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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 8 months ago

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 5

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 6164 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

The next day, Dick wandered about the palace in search of anything to pass the time. He initially thought he could sleep out the rest of his day in the infirmary - gods knew he was going to need all the energy he could get for his journey home - but found himself instead pondering a certain warrior princess a little too much for his liking.

So here he was, wandering aimlessly looking for something, anything, to occupy his mind. But even so, Y/N's hard stare couldn't be shook from his mind.

Dick groaned, stopping to lean up against a pillar in frustration, figuring his wandering was not helping him. What's her deal? he thought, rubbing his temples in an attempt to be rid of his bothering thoughts. He was to leave at sundown, and probably never return to Themyscira again.

I know who I am, and I know my place is here, with people who actually care about me.

She'd said it with such fierceness, such ire. As if he could never understand her pain.

This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be on a boat headed back to Gotham City... and out of my life. For good.

Does she really want that? He pondered the question over as he walked to the window opposite him. It was more like an opening framed by marble pillars and fenced by an edge. He leaned against edge and looked over it.

He had to admit, it was a beautiful place. Isolated but untouched by Man's destructive hand. Dick couldn't believe such a place existed. All he'd known all his life was destruction and pain and loss. The Death he knew didn't discriminate, though sometimes Dick was sure Death favoured the sinners, taking any saint it could get its cruel hands on.

Like Jason. Like Tula. Like Wally.

Dick's attention was caught by the open field just a little way from the palace grounds, heading towards some higher mountains. It was the same field he was brought to when he first got to Themyscira. The same field that Y/N knocked him royally unconscious with one blow.

The clanging of steel echoed up to the palace, and Dick's eagle-eyed gaze latched onto a familiar h/c haired girl as she fought against five other warriors. She looked just like them - wearing the same uniform, wielding the same swords - and yet, she wasn't one of them. She was above them, meant for more - just like Kaldur, M'gann, and Connor had told her.

This is my home, and by sundown tomorrow, you will be... out of my life. For good.

Not if I can help it, he thought, racing through the palace halls, down several flights of stairs, and into the streets of Themyscira. If that is what Y/N truly believed - if that is what she wanted - then she would have to prove it to him.

~~~

Y/N jumped back as Calliope slashed her sword at Y/N's neck, then quickly leaped forwards again and slamming her shield into the warrior. Calliope stumbled back, but regained her footing easily.

'You have gotten better, my Princess,' she said, an evil glint in her deep brown eyes. 'But you still have much to learn.'

Y/N barely had time to duck as Calliope sprang forward, sword slashing across Y/N's body swift as the wind. Y/N rolled away as Calliope slashed at her again, slamming her sword into the grass beneath.

Y/N quickly sprung to her feet, then lunged at Calliope's side, tackling her and sending the two of them into a messy wrestling match, both their swords forgotten.

Despite initiating the struggle, Calliope managed to get on top of Y/N, straddling her waist and pinning her arms above her head. 'See, Princess?' Calliope gloated, a smug smile on her lips. 'Still so much to learn.'

'Yeah?' Y/N asked. 'Well, I guess the same goes for you.'

Calliope tilted her head in confusion, but Y/N answered by flipping Calliope over her head in one swift motion. Calliope landed on her back with a loud exhale of air, but Y/N was already straddling Calliope, pinning both Calliope's arms above her head in one hand while Y/N pulled out a hidden dagger from underneath her skirt and held it to Calliope's neck.

Y/N flashed Calliope a wicked smile. 'Lesson number one: never ever count me out.'

Calliope struggled for a moment before relinquishing the fight. 'Fine, Princess. I yield,' she said, offering a defeated smile.

Y/N jumped to her feet and offered her hand out to Calliope, to which the warrior took. 'I yield, today, Princess,' Calliope said. 'But I promise next time will not end the same.'

Y/N laugh jovially. 'I look forward to the challenge, Calliope.'

A round of applause resounded through the field, drawing Y/N's attention back to the crowd that had gathered around her and Calliope. She'd started off fighting five warriors, but they'd slowly dwindled down to just Calliope, the rest now clapping with other onlookers who had paused their training to witness the spectacle.

'That was most impressive, Princess,' one of the original five said as Y/N and Calliope rejoined them and the crowd slowly dispersed. 'You are turning into a fine warrior.'

'Thank you,' Y/N said with a gracious nod. 'But Calliope is right. I still have much to learn if I am to be your champion, or my mother's successor.'

'You are too hard on yourself, Princess,' Calliope said, resting a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulders. 'The last six months, you have grown in leaps and bounds, becoming stronger than all of us - though I hate to admit it. You are more than worthy to be our champion, and to carry on your mother's legacy.'

Y/N's heart fluttered with hope at the sound of those words. Did they really think so? That she was worthy?

But just as swiftly the hope came, it fluttered just as quickly away as Y/N shook her head. 'Worthy is not the same as ready,' Y/N argued, though she offered a grateful smile. 'But I am sure with more time, that will be the case someday.'

Calliope smiled encouragingly back at her. 'Well, until then, I guess we'll just have to try and beat you.' Calliope's hand that gripped Y/N's shoulder slid down to her wrist and lifted her hand high above. 'Who will it be, then? Who dares to challenge our champion, Princess Y/N of Themyscira?'

It was a joke of a declaration to which the remaining warriors laughed or dismissed the challenge entirely. But one voice emerged strong from the crowd.

'I will.'

The five warriors surrounding Y/N split so they could see Dick Grayson standing alone, staring intently at Y/N. He wore just his civvies still, but the intensity in his bright blue eyes told Y/N that he was being dead serious.

Calliope scoffed with amusement beside her. 'Run along, foreigner,' she called out in English so he could understand. 'Or do you want to be embarrassed?'

The other women laughed, but Dick called out, 'No. I came here to fight Y/N. I've fought her plenty of times before. I even managed to beat her every now and again. Haven't I, Y/N?'

Y/N didn't like how casual he was being about this, and what he was implying. Calliope and the other warriors looked to one another with confusion and shock. Not that Y/N ever boasted invulnerability, but she was one of that strongest among her peers. To hear that a man - a mortal man, at that - had bested her was news to them.

'I thought I told you to stay in the infirmary,' Y/N said, silencing the murmurs around her.

Dick just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the field. 'You did, but I got bored, and I figured there are many more interesting and lovely things to see outside.'

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Still the same ignorant boy.'

'Still the same stubborn girl,' Dick countered, setting Y/N's cheeks ablaze with his quick wit.

'What do you want, Nightwing?' Y/N said. She was growing tired and irritated with every second she looked at him.

Y/N didn't miss the slight scrunch of his eyebrows at the mention of his vigilante name - how, just for a moment, his carefree facade cracked - but he answered as if unbothered. 'I just want to talk, Y/N. But if the only way to do that is to fight you, then so be it.'

Dick took a few quick steps up to Y/N so that he slightly towered over her. He'd been tall when she last saw him, but he had grown once more and not just in height. His broad shoulders and chest made him seem gargantuan compared to two years ago.

But Dick isn't the only one who's grown up.

'So, what do you say, Y/N?' he asked, his breath dancing gently across Y/N's face. 'For old times' sake?'

Y/N looked up at him, trying to ignore the intense pounding of her heart against her ribcage. His eyes were irritatingly piercing as they had always been. One look into them and he'd always been able to get her to do exactly what he wanted.

He was goading her, she knew that. Backing her into a corner she couldn't get out of even if she tried. She could deny him, but make a fool of herself in front of her people. Or she could fight him, and risk losing her dignity and pride to him if he won.

Not an option.

'Fine,' she said, stepping away to catch her breath and settle her mind. As she did, she swore she saw him lean after her. 'If you won't go back to the infirmary willingly, I'll put you back in there myself. Just like I did the first time around.'

Y/N didn't wait for a witty remark from Dick, already turning and walking into the open field to reclaim her sword she'd discarded in her fight with Calliope. She picked up Calliope's sword too, and threw it to Dick, who clumsily caught it.

'Uh... I was thinking more of hand-to-hand combat,' Dick said, looking at the sword worriedly.

'Ah uh,' Y/N chastised. 'You challenge me to a duel, we fight under my terms.' Y/N held out her sword, the sharp point of it poised towards Dick. 'Now, raise your sword, Nightwing. And come meet your fate.'

Dick looked like he wanted to say something stupid, perhaps a joke, but Y/N glared a silent threat at him and he wisely closed his mouth. He walked to where Y/N stood, and raised his sword to meet hers. Y/N never took her eyes off him, determined fire coursing through her every fibre. You will not win, Dick Grayson. You will not win.

Calliope came to stand between the two. She was to act as their referee, it seemed. She raised her hands, looked between the two. 'Ready... And fight!'

Calliope leaped out of ranged, and before Dick could react, Y/N knocked his sword out of her way and charged at him. Lucky for him and his acrobatic past, he easily dodged her charge. But she expected that.

She swung her sword down in an overhead arc but was met with Dick's sword, the clashing of steel echoing throughout the field. She swung again, he blocked. Swing, block. Swing, block.

Y/N growled in frustration. He knew her too well. Even after two years, he still anticipated the same moves.

They clashed swords again, this time holding and pressing against one another to see who would fall first. 'Fight me properly, damnit,' Y/N groaned out.

'Not until you stop calling me Nightwing,' he answered, and to Y/N's satisfaction he sounded hard of breath.

'Is that what all this is about?' Y/N asked, slightly bewildered. 'Why you wanted to fight? You're lucky that is the only thing I call you.'

Y/N stepped aside of the fight, letting Dick's momentum force him forward. Y/N stepped behind him and kicked him hard in the back, sending him flying forwards a few metres. Dick hit the ground hard, and for a moment Y/N worried if he had broken something. She'd forgotten her strength wasn't like mortals. But that worry disappeared when Dick picked himself up with barely a wince.

Dick ran at her and she braced for the slash, but instead leaped over her and swept her legs out from under her feet. Just as he went to pin her down though, she punched him in the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards and giving her enough time to stand up.

'Damn,' Dick said, rubbing his jaw with an amused smile, 'I almost forgot that you can pack a punch.'

'Stop wasting my time!' Y/N was beyond irritated now, rushing at Dick and making slice after slice at him. Again, his agility and nimbleness kept just a hair's breadth from the tip of her sword, which only irritated her more.

'Then tell me why!' Dick yelled back, ducking under another swipe of Y/N's sword. 'Why do you refuse to call me by my name, Y/N?'

Y/N was surprised by his sudden aggression. In all the time she'd known him, he'd never really lost his cool unless it was at Bruce because he wouldn't let Dick come on a mission, or go to the movies as a child.

Her surprise cost her, as Dick knocked her sword from her hand, twisted her around so her back pressed against his chest, and pinned her against him with an arm around her waist and his sword against her neck. 'Come on, Y/N,' he said softly so no one else could hear. 'You're my best friend. What happened?'

Y/N couldn't believe it. He truly didn't know? His question was sincere, which made it all the more worse. How could he not know that he was the cause of all of this?

Y/N saw red then, that determined fire in her burning hotter and fiercer. With all her strength, she heaved Dick over the top of her, effectively throwing him a good two metres away and cracking the earth with the impact.

She ran for her sword, and by the time he was on his feet, she was on swinging at him fervently, relentlessly, mercilessly.

'You left, that's what!' she cried, slicing at him without a single thought of the next move. All she knew is that if she let up now, she would lose. 'You left, and you didn't even care!'

'Y/N, listen, I-'

'Shut up!' she said, kicking him in the stomach and sending him to the floor. He raised his sword just in time as she brought hers down upon him. 'You don't have the right to come here and tell me what to do. Not when you didn't contact us even once, knowing we needed you!'

Dick rolled out from beneath Y/N, sending her stumbling forward as he got on his feet. But Y/N just swung with a cry, the clashing of their swords almost deafening as she swung at Dick again and again and again.

Dick grunted as he fended off every attack, not even bothering to try and return the favour, but merely hold his line. His defensive strategy just made Y/N even more mad. Was she not a worthy opponent? Had she ever been worthy to him?

'I said I'm sorry,' he said between laboured breaths. 'I realise now that leaving wasn't the best way to cope with Wally's death, but-'

'But nothing!' Y/N swung her sword so hard against Dick's that she knocked it out of his hands. He looked after his weapon in shock but Y/N was already punching him so hard in the stomach that he flew high in the air for a moment before crash-landing, cracking the earth he laid on.

As Dick groaned with pain, Y/N walked on over and pressed a foot hard against his chest, preventing him from getting back up. She pointed her sword at his throat, forcing him to look up at her with those piercing blue eyes that looked at her like she was unrecognisable.

Good.

'But. Nothing,' she said softly this time, coldly. There was so much more she wanted to tell him, to shout and yell and scream in his stupidly beautiful face to make him understand. But no clear enough words came to mind, so she stepped off Dick and retracted her sword.

She turned to see a larger crowd of warriors had congregated to watch the fight. And although she had won, Y/N didn't feel overly victorious. Some of the warriors were smiling and cheering, but Y/N spotted Calliope in the front, eyeing her Princess with curiosity and worry.

Her deep brown eyes asked a silent question: are you okay?

Y/N nodded upwards in a dismissive manner, as if to say: we will discuss this later.

Calliope nodded in understanding, and that was the end of the conversation.

'We're done here,' Y/N said for all to hear as she made to head back to the crowd.

'Wait, Y/N,' Dick grunted out as he pushed himself to his feet, holding his ribs that were no doubt bruised if not cracked.

Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, stone cold expression on her face. 'That's Wonderess to you, Nightwing. I suggest you head back to the infirmary like I told you to before and rest up. You've got a long voyage ahead of you tonight.'

'But-'

'Goodbye, Nightwing.'

Y/N didn't wait for his reaction as she turned to rejoin her fellow warriors. Internally, she just wanted to be alone, but the women looked up to her, respected her. They would want to congratulate their princess on her victory.

So that is who she became once more, the smiling and proud warrior princess she had forced herself to become in order to block out her former weaknesses.

In order to block out him, who she spotted in the corner of her eye being aided by two women in blue nurse robes. And as much as she tried to block him out, a pinprick of guilt punctured her heart as she watched him be taken down the stairs and back to the palace.

'Congratulations, Princess,' Calliope said softly, drawing Y/N's attention back to the present. 'That was... a brutal fight.'

Y/N stood up straighter, shook herself slightly to get back into character. 'Nothing I couldn't handle. He is but a mere mortal after all.'

'I wasn't talking about the physicality of the battle, Princess,' Calliope said with a knowing tone.

Y/N's facade cracked slightly as Calliope gave her a knowing look. Calliope was more perceptive than Y/N gave her credit for.

She quickly regained her composure and flashed Calliope an easy smile as she patted her on the shoulder. 'Well, just as well we are not only warriors in strength, but of the mind, too. Like the great Athena herself.'

Before Calliope could stop her, Y/N strode past her and down the stairs. She wasn't heading for the palace or the markets or anywhere really. She just needed to be alone.

Y/N didn't stop walking until her feet hit the waves of the ocean lapping at the white sand of Themyscira's shore. She'd be back down here at nightfall. It will be the last time I see him, she realised, and despite her anger and her hurt, tears sprung to her eyes at the thought.

You're my best friend. Always have been...

Always will be.

And right there, alone on the beach, Y/N allowed herself to cry her heart out. In anger, in hurt, and all for a love that refused to let her go. It was so cruel of him, of the universe, to seek her out just when she thought she'd found a new home.

But as Y/N cried and her tears joined the ocean lapping at her feet, she found she had never felt more alone.

~~~

Dick's hands weren't shackled, but as the entourage of guards escorted him from all sides down the long staircase from the palace to the docks, he'd never felt more imprisoned.

Only a small party of people had come to send him off. The sunset was approaching dusk, so Dick figured most of the women would be preparing or sharing a meal together already. Queen Hippolyta stood by the small boat at the end of the dock with another squad of guards.

To Dick's surprise, Y/N stood beside her grandmother, but she didn't look too happy. In fact, she wasn't showing any emotion, just was staring ahead of her as if in a trance.

Or she's just trying to ignore me. All afternoon and throughout dinner all Dick could envision were Y/N's pain-filled eyes as they'd sparred. She was normally so calculative, calm, composed when she fought, always trying to de-escalate a situation even with the villains back home.

But she'd fought like a cornered animal, where her only way out had been to fight. Lashing out wildly, dangerously, carelessly. And at the end, when she'd stood above him with that cold expression, he realised it was all because of him.

He'd done this to her, pushed her away, ignored her, discarded her as if she hadn't been grieving too. He'd been so naive to think she'd always be there for him, that she'd be waiting for him after all that time, not when he hadn't spared hers or any of the teams' feelings a single thought after he left.

But he'd seen her smiling with Calliope and the other women, the way she used to with him and Kaldur and M'gann and Connor and Wally. They used to be a family, but he'd single-handedly destroyed that.

But Y/N had found a new one. All on her own. So what right did he have to tell her she had to leave when she'd finally found happiness again?

Dick couldn't even answer that himself, but the guilt that weighed him down was answer enough.

The guards surrounding him walked him to the end of the pier and then dispersed as they approached their queen, fanning out to stand behind him. Dick spared a glance to Y/N but she just looked straight ahead, not even acknowledging his presence.

'Well, it is time to bid you farewell, Nightwing,' Queen Hippolyta said, motioning to the sailboat to her right. 'This vessel has all you need for your journey home. There are maps and a compass for you to use, and we have packed some fruit and bread for sustenance.'

Dick nodded his head in gratitude. 'Thank you, Your Majesty,' he said sincerely. 'You have been a most generous and understanding host.'

'I am sorry we couldn't help you with your task,' the Queen said, then looked to Y/N knowingly. When she didn't respond, the Queen nudged her granddaughter slightly, bringing Y/N back to the moment.

'I am sorry, too,' Dick said, turning his gaze to lock with Y/N's. 'Truly.'

He wanted to say more but Y/N had made it very clear that whatever they had been two years ago, they certainly weren't that anymore. And he didn't blame her, but he needed her to know that he wished things were different.

For a brief moment, Dick thought he saw Y/N's face soften at his apology, like maybe she wished for the very same thing. But the moment - if it had happened at all - went as quickly as it came, and Y/N's face was blank once more.

Dick let out a breath of defeat, then flashed a polite smile to the Queen and the guards around him. 'Well, it's been a pleasure.'

He gave a final nod of thanks, to which the Queen reciprocated, and then he made his way to the boat. But before he jumped on, he turned around to speak directly to Y/N.

'I'll tell them all you said hi,' Dick said, a half-amused smile on his lips.

Y/N's jaw tensed then, and Dick imagined it was taking all her will not to do anything. It annoyed him slightly that she couldn't even say one word to him, not even about their friends who also missed her. But he just turned back to the boat.

But just as he went to jump aboard, the whole pier rocked, sending everyone stumbling a little.

'What was that?' the Queen asked.

Her answer came in the form of another rock of the deck, this time hitting much harder. Some women fell to the ground while others clung to each other to steady themselves.

Dick looked out at the ocean to see the once calm waters now rising and falling and swirling rapidly. It was a full moon night, but even the moon couldn't control the waves like that.

'What in the name of Tartarus is out there?'

Dick turned to find Y/N standing beside him, looking out at the mass of water swirling and surging violently. Dick retuned to the waters, and his stomach dropped at where the violent waves were headed.

'I don't know,' he said, 'but it's coming right for us!'

'Everybody, get to higher ground!' Y/N called out, then ran straight to her grandmother. Dick followed Y/N as some of the guards helped their Queen and the others scrambled up the stairs.

As they reached the base of the stairs, the boat cracked as a wave crashed over it, splintering it in seconds.

'Keep going!' Y/N cried out, pushing her grandmother higher up the stairs as the water splintered the pier and rose up the stairs.

Suddenly, out of the water surged a tentacle, striking the stairs just below Dick's feet. The marble crumbled like sand and tumbled down into the still rising water.

Another tentacle struck out, this time grabbing a hold of one of the guards and throwing her into the side of the mountain.

'Dimitra!' Calliope called out beside Dick, frozen on the steps as she looked after her fallen friend.

Dick looked up to see another tentacle emerge from the rising water and grabbed Calliope and hauled her up more stairs. 'Keep moving!'

The tentacles kept coming out of the water, slamming into the stairs, crushing or throwing any warrior they could get their slimy suckers on. All Dick was focussed on was dragging Calliope up the stairs as fast as he could until they were safe.

They reached a small landing in the stairs and finally the water stopped rising just a few steps below them, and the creature fully emerged. Seemingly hundreds of tentacles flayed around, all coming from the bulbous, slimy head of a creature Dick thought only existed in books.

'Kraken,' Queen Hippolyta said in disbelief.

'They exist?!' Dick asked, not truly believing what he was seeing.

'Of course they exist,' the Queen scolded. 'Hades created the Kraken to help defeat the Titans long ago. They are powerful but usually docile and dormant creatures.'

'Well, I'm afraid to say Your Majesty, but this one seems very much awake and destructive,' Dick said

'Duck!' Y/N cried out as a tentacle came swiping at their heads. Dick ducked with everyone else as the tentacle cut through the stairs, cutting the group off from the city above.

Another tentacle struck out towards Y/N but she sliced it with her sword, and a piercing screech echoed through the cove. No doubt the whole island heard it, and hopefully backup was on their way.

'I don't understand,' the Queen said, exasperated. 'Why is it attacking us? I didn't even know krakens lived nearby!'

'It doesn't matter why it's attacking,' Dick started. 'We've got to put it down. Any ideas?'

'Fire,' Y/N said. 'That's one of its weaknesses. We need fire.' She frantically looked around her, probably for anything flammable. But all that surrounded them was marble and the kraken.

Dick immediately started pulling off his jacket. 'Here, use this,' he said, handing it over to Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, looking at his jacket like it had the plague. Dick rolled his eyes and said, 'Come on, what else you got?'

Y/N gave him a hesitant look, but took the jacket anyways. She dropped to the ground and picked up two pieces of marble rock broken from the stairs and started clinking them together to get a spark.

Dick got distracted from her work at the sound of women's pain-filled cries. Tentacles were striking everywhere now, even the ones the women were able to sever were still attacking. The mountainside beside them crumbled more, and more warriors were being crushed or flung off the mountain.

Their party was dwindling, and fast.

Dick picked up a discarded spear and started lunging at the tentacles. 'Hurry up, Y/N!'

'I'm trying!' she called out, striking the rocks harder now. Suddenly, a spark lunged from the rocks onto the jacket, and it quickly caught fire.

'Yes!' Y/N cried, then turned to Dick with a hand held out. 'Give me the spear!'

Without hesitation, Dick threw her the spear, to which she stabbed the sharp end of the weapon into the flaming jacket, twisting it so it wrapped around the spearhead tightly. A proud smile flickered onto her lips for a moment as she looked back at Dick, and he couldn't help but smile too.

Until a tentacle wrapped around Y/N's middle and lifted her off the ground.

'No!' Dick cried as he chased after her, but she was already hundreds of metres in the air, dangling over the kraken's open mouth. Hundreds and hundreds of teeth ringed around the actual mouth, making bigger digestions easier for the creature, but Dick was almost certain it wouldn't need any of them to swallow Y/N whole.

But Y/N was unfazed as she hung over certain doom. She steadied herself, then raised the spear behind her. For Dick, time slowed down, as he was certain the kraken would drop her into its mouth at any second.

But she threw the flaming spear before it could, aiming it true straight down the kraken's throat. Instantly, the kraken's mouth caught on fire, eliciting a horrifying scream from within the flames.

All it's tentacles retracted and wriggled in pain, and the one holding Y/N flung her high in the air.

'Y/N!' Dick ran for the edge of landing as she fell hard and fast. He leaped just as she levelled with the landing, and Dick's eyes briefly met with hers, and he saw the terror she felt then.

She disappeared beyond the edge as he reached over, closing his hand in the hopes of catching her in time.

His hand closed. There was something there. Dick's heart thrummed so loud in his ears he couldn't even hear his own breathing. He laid there for a moment, holding on to something, until his heartbeat quietened.

And then he heard it. Another person breathing. And then he felt it. Skin beneath his fingertips.

He dared to look over the edge, and relief washed over him as he saw Y/N dangling from his hand, looking up at him in disbelief.

'I've got you,' he said with a shaky smile, then started pulling her up with all his might.

The remaining guards helped him too, pulling him backwards until Y/N could pull herself up onto the landing. Dick immediately went to help her to her feet. 'You okay?' he asked.

But Y/N just pushed his hands away and stood up shakily. 'I'm fine,' she said bluntly, giving him a quick side-eye that wasn't quite mad but definitely not grateful.

Annoyance riled up in him again, but now was not the time to be petty and childish. Both he and Y/N looked over the edge of landing to see the kraken limply sinking back down into the water. But the water didn't sink with it. In fact, it rose even more until it levelled with the edge of the landing, small waves gently lapping at Y/N's and Dick's feet.

Suddenly, the water started bubbling, and ghoulish green light emanated from deep under.

'Stand back everyone,' Y/N said, and they all did, weapons primed at the ready for the next monster to rise up.

But instead of a giant kraken, a human-sized figure rose up from the water. Although, as soon as they fully emerged, Dick knew the being wasn't human.

It looked like a naked woman, but she was covered in emerald green scales like those of a snake, and had such hypnotic green eyes that Dick struggled to look away from. Her hair flowed like liquid midnight down her back, contrasting the golden crown she wore. The scales that covered her arms and breasts fed down into her green serpent bottom that swivelled so as to keep her afloat.

The woman smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, eyeing everyone on the landing with a calculative stare. 'Well that wasn't a warm welcome, was it?'

Y/N grabbed a discarded sword from the ground and pointed it at her. 'Who are you? Are you the one who sent the kraken to kill us?'

'Kill you?' The woman sounded amused as her smile widened somehow. 'If I wanted to kill you Princess, I would've sent one of my stronger children to finish you off. No, the killing will come later, I'm afraid.'

'Children?' Dick asked, but it was the Queen who answered.

'It cannot be,' Queen Hippolyta said breathlessly, horror contorting her face as she gazed at the woman in the water. 'In all my years...'

'Who is she, grandmother?' Y/N asked.

The Queen swallowed thickly before answering. 'That is Echidna, Mother of Monsters.'

'Monsters is such a cruel name for children,' Echidna countered. 'But then again, I guess they can be... destructive.'

'We are not afraid of you, Echidna,' the Queen asked, stepping forward. 'We are daughters of Artemis, with the spirit of Athena, and the blessing of Hera. Begone before we make you regret it.'

While the Queen was an intimidating woman, her threat fell flat on Echidna, who simply laughed.

'My, I must admit you are humorous, Your Majesty,' Echidna said mockingly. 'But even with all your blessings, you still wouldn't be able to defeat me.'

'So you are here to kill us,' Y/N said, pointing the sword accusingly at Echidna. 'Why?'

'Patience, Princess,' Echidna said cooly, slithering across the water towards where the landing met the water. 'My kraken was just a warning.'

'Warning? For what?' Dick asked, and he immediately regretted it because Echidna turned her gaze on him and gave him a sinister smile that sent shivers down his spine.

'That war is coming,' Echidna said, slithering towards where he stood near the edge. 'My children haven't feasted on the flesh of humans in a long, long time. Although, you're handsome to look at. Perhaps I will spare you from the slaughter.'

Before she could lean in closer to Dick, Y/N stuck her sword between them and pushed Echidna away and stepped in front of Dick. 'Enough games,' she said. 'Why are you doing this. The Amazons have lived peacefully for centuries. What did they ever do to you to warrant war?'

For the first time that night, Echidna's smile disappeared, and the cold, cruel expression that replaced it aged her by a hundred years or so. 'For centuries, my children have been hunted and killed for sport and glory by those you admire. And while, yes, the Amazons have never harmed me personally, they are the product of all the gods' love and what is good with the world.

'My children are products of gods, too, yet they are hunted and killed, while the Amazons - who are just as powerful and destructive as my babies - are praised and adored. And so for that - for Zeus and Hera and all the gods killing my children - I will kill theirs.'

Echidna's tail rose up to brush Y/N's from her face, that cruel smile returning. 'You have three days to prepare, and then I will rain terror down upon Themyscira like you've never seen before. Terror, that will make you wish you were dead afterwards.'

To Y/N's credit, she didn't flinch as Echidna leaned in closer again until practically their foreheads were touching. 'Three days, Princess. And then you're done.'

'Three days, and your head will be on my spear,' Y/N spat back, gaze never faltering as she held Echidna's.

Echidna's chuckle unsettled Dick as she slithered away and sunk back into the water. As she did, the water slowly sunk back down to the normal height, revealing the broken boat and pier but no signs of the dead kraken or Echidna.

Everyone was silent, unsure what to say after the terrifying encounter. Until Dick couldn't handle the silence any longer.

'All right,' he started, turning to Y/N and the Queen. 'What do we do now.'

'The only thing we can do,' the Queen said solemnly as she stared down at the ocean. 'Prepare for war.'

'And pray,' Y/N said, following her grandmother's gaze. 'We're going to need to.'

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

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yuriisclumsy · 10 months ago

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╰ Description: Snaps from my Google Doc "Thoughts and Ideas." It's a diary with some thoughts that come from my mind when they are being intrusive–AKA thoughts I have at 1 AM. Separate from other works, unless It's for a series. Putting this just to clarify misunderstandings.

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

—April 8, 2024—

Thought… What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland. Like, there is a venue at NRC with everyone invited. Even parents were allowed entry. So the parties PACKED. And then a murmur amongst the students gave rise to a NEW racked mage, saying it was a girl in her teens. Then, an announcement was made, that there was a new Top Rank list.

EVERYONE was shocked. I mean, Imagine that the last change for this list was over 10 years ago, the youngest and last on the list being 32 years old. And all of a sudden, there is a new member on the list? Firstly, it is very difficult even REACHING the top 100, let alone the top 10. Just who is this girl?

As they announced the new list, they went from bottom to top, starting from 10. Number 10, (is now the previous 9th place). This stunt people. It wouldn't be that surprising if number ten was the one being replaced. But for it to go one down…means that the girl was in a higher position. Number 9, (previous 8th place). Number 8, (previous 7th place). Number 7, (previous 6th place). Number 6, (previous 5th place). The more people listened, the more wide eyed they got. There was simply no way a young girl got on the top 5 in one go. That’s just impossible. Yet the announcer didn’t stop. Number 5, (previous 4th place). Number 4, (previous 3rd place). Number 3, (previous 2nd place). Number 2…. People were at the edges leaning forward. The first place belongs to The Prince of Thorn Valley, and had been so for the last centuries. Surely this girl couldn't have beat that…right?

The announcer continued, waiting for no one. [Name], [Name] Fairytale. That was the name outered by the announcer. Number 1, Malleus Draconia. To have a young girl be almost in par with THE Malleus Draconia, prince and heir to the throne of Thorn Valley. That was impressive…and terrifying.

Who is she?

What is she?

A human like that couldn't possibly exist. I mean, she is standing right infront of them, but still. They needed to know where this girl came from, and how she managed to climb to the top of the ranks. Some want to know out of curiosity, others, out of anger and envy. But the worst of them all, was those who think they could use this girl in their schemes. Use her to their gain. Maybe even to get powers never available to them before.

I wonder…. Do they think you're that stupid? That you are just an innocent little girl? Smart enough to fight, but dumb enough to manipulate.

They’re all fools. You’ll just have to prove it to them. A demonstration will suffice, yes?

(Finished 4/11/2024, at 5:37pm)

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 9 months ago

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A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 5

You can read previous chapters here.

A/N: Not @ me pulling an all nighter to finish a protocol for uni and submitting it at 6 in the morning just 10 minutes before the deadline. Then proceeding to edit this chapter. This series in ruining my future, because all I did in the last two weeks is write 20 chapters! instead of the four protocols that I should've written on time. Anyways, enough about me. Y/n is fighting everyone in this chapter and saying hurtful things along the way.

Summary: Tension rises as Y/n only makes things harder for everyone around her. After moving into the Town House, she is attacked by the King’s soldiers.

Warnings: angst, slight violence, blood.

Word Count: 4.1 K.

Coming to check on Elain, much to Y/n’s surprise, she was not in her room. She paced towards the room where Nesta usually sat, only to hear her telling someone to get out. When she arrived she found Nesta and Feyre by the door and Elain and Lucien sitting in the room.

“I told you to keep him away from her” Y/n glared at Feyre, her voice tight with frustration.

“I came for a book” Lucien stated, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You don’t fool me, you one-eyed bastard. Get out!” she kept her voice steady, though a storm was building within her.

“She needs fresh air. Get her out of this house” he advised, and although he was right, Y/n barked “do not tell us what my sister needs. You don’t even know her”. In a moment of intense anger, a faint spark danced across her fingertips, the sensation lost amidst the turmoil of her emotions. She clenched her fists tightly, extinguishing the spark, the potential within her remaining hidden.

Feyre had come this morning to apologize for the previous night, but upon being seen in the same room as Elain and Lucien, it only made things worse.

“Y/n, I-”.

“Save it” she gave her sister a glare before storming out.

—

With no one around, Y/n felt cooped up and could not leave even if she wanted to. She decided to explore the rest of the house. Reaching the library, she felt something tighten around her chest. She was greeted by Clotho who wrote on a paper offering to assist her. She didn't even know why she was here, but then an idea came to her. She wrote back “do you have books about the anatomy and strong and weak points of the Fae?”.

“You want to learn about your body?”.

“Something like that”.

Clotho signaled one of the priestesses who led Y/n to the aisle about Fae anatomy a couple of floors below. She started reading out of curiosity but got sucked in. The tightening of her chest returned and she finally put the book down. She looked around, but no priestesses were in sight. She walked around the library when she saw a dark pit below. Something was drawing her closer, and she decided to investigate. She heard a faint voice ask “who walks here?”.

“Hello. Is there anyone here?”. No answer. She resumed her descent.

“Who dares disrupt my sleep?” the voice was louder.

“I-I did not know there was anyone here. I’m Y/n”.

“Ah, the one who’d been lost. I see you’ve been found”.

“What does that even mean? Who are you?”.

“You mean to say, what am I?”.

“You’re not Fae? Wh- where are you? How is it possible that your voice is everywhere?” Y/n was now going down carefully, as the lights began to fade.

“Fae?” the voice laughed “I’m much older, girl-”.

“Y/n, what in the Mother’s name are you doing here?” Cassian grabbed her wrist and led her upstairs.

“What the hell, prick? Let go of me!” but Cassian did not release her until they were in the upper part of the library, where it was safe.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” this was the first time she’s seen Cassian angry. His wings flared slightly, a sign of his agitation.

“What has gotten into you?”

“What has gotten into you?” he repeated “how can you just go down there? Do you know what lies beneath the library?”.

“No, I do not. No one has told me anything. In fact, this is the first time I’ve been to the library”.

“You stupid fool”.

“Mind your tongue, General”.

“Why did you even go down there?”.

“Because- I- I don’t know. Something was calling to me. I had this strange feeling and it led me there” she explained.

“If it ever calls to you again, do not answer. Do not go down there, do you understand me?”.

“I do not take orders from you, General. I’m not one of your soldiers that you can command”.

“Mother above, Y/n. Will you just listen for once?” Cassian sighed. He’d never dealth with such a stubborn and infuriating woman before.

“What is down there?”.

“A creature you do not want to face, trust me. Please, just stay away. I’m not commanding, I’m asking”.

“Alright, whatever. How did you even know I was here?”.

“I stayed behind to guard the city and you and Elain-”

“I don’t need guarding”.

“I know. When I came to the house, you weren’t there, so I had to check. When I got to the library, Clotho told me you were here. I did not think you’d do such a stupid thing, but when I came to find you you weren’t there. Only the book you were reading. Why are you studying our anatomy?”.

“I need to know everything about my enemies in order to defeat them”.

“Do you plan on killing me?” he chuckled.

“If you keep annoying me”.

“You’re lucky that I found you. You could have died”.

“Am I supposed to thank you? You don’t know that. Maybe whatever is down there just wanted to chat” she shrugged.

“Since when do you see the best in people?”.

“I don’t, but it is not a person, is it?”.

“Let’s just get out of here” he rolled his eyes.

“Where is everyone?”.

“Hewn city. If you agreed to help, you could’ve gone with them”.

“And see more of your kind? From what I heard, they’re even worse than you”.

“Much worse”.

“Then why would I ever want to go there?”.

“Fair point. But what about your powers, don’t you want to learn about them?”.

“You don’t know if I have any”.

“You are Cauldron-made. I-we believe that each of you has powers”.

“Power or no power, I’m not doing anything to help you”.

“Why not? You’d help save everyone”.

“You ask a lot of questions, General”.

“And you answer none”.

“I don’t owe you or anyone an answer”.

“Sorry, I asked… I have to go now, Rhys just informed me of their return. And please don’t go down again”.

“I won’t. Tell my sister and your brother to come here tomorrow, I have something to discuss with them”.

—

To Y/n’s surprise, not only Feyre and Rhys were in the living room the next morning, but also Cassian, Azriel and Nesta.

“Good morning” she greeted Nesta, and Nesta only. “How are your lessons going?” she took a seat next to her sister.

“I’m learning to shield myself. Yesterday was tiring” Nesta informed her.

“I want to go home” Y/n informed Feyre, who was taken aback, much like everyone else in the room.

“What? This is your home now” Feyre said.

“No, this is your home. I want to leave. I want to go back”.

“But you’re not human anymore” Feyre reminded “they won’t accept you there. It’s not safe”.

“I can glamour myself. And I can decide what risks I’m going to take myself”.

“You can’t glamour yourself forever”.

“Why do you care? I have made my decision. I want to leave” she persisted.

“Because you are my sister, and I want what is best for you”.

“And you think this is what’s best for me? To be locked up in here with nothing to do, surrounded by people I don’t like. I’m sorry that your human life was miserable, that you had to hunt for our family’s survival and just because you found a purpose here, just because you fit in, doesn’t mean we all have to. I had a life back then, a good one”.

“No one is locking you up. I told you, you can leave any time you wanted” Rhys reminded.

“How am I supposed to leave if no one is here to take me out? Or am I magically supposed to send a letter that would go wherever you are?”.

“You can call with your mind and I would send whoever is nearest to get you” Rhys explained.

“Nice trick, so you can enter my mind and read my thoughts? I’m not stupid”.

“I would never do such a thing, I give you my word”.

“You and your words that you can’t keep” she huffed.

“Y/n-” Feyre tried to diffuse the situation.

“I.want.to.leave”.

“It’s not safe. Not for you and not for your father. You have to think ab-”.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you” her reply came with a huffed chuckle “where was all that talk when you came to us for help? Or did our safety not matter to you when your new family wanted help? Because from where I stand, everything that happened to us was because of a decision you made” Y/n’s voice grew quiet, almost hesitant, pain and disappointment evident in her tone. Y/n didn’t want to say these words aloud, knowing her sister felt guilty, nonetheless. But bottling up her feelings all this time backfired on her.

“Don’t blame Feyre for what happened to you. If you want someone to blame, blame the King of Hybern, blame me” Rhys defended.

“Oh, I do, and his turn will come. But she played a part in what happened, I begged her to take her business elsewhere... I played a part in what happened” her voice faltered “we all did. And you? You want to know why I hate you? You made a promise that you couldn’t keep. You and your brothers promised to protect my sisters and when they needed that protection, you were all helpless. I should’ve never trusted you or let you anywhere near them and I have no one but myself to blame. I knew of the danger your kind would bring us, but still I allowed it to happen and now my sisters are suffering and Elain lost her fiance. All because of one decision” tears were now filling up in her eyes, but no one dared to speak. They all partly blamed themselves for what happened to the sisters and now with her confession, they know she blamed them too. A reminder that they have failed her and her sisters.

“It’s not your fault. No one blames you” Nesta finally spoke, trying to comfort her older sister. This was the first time she saw her break. She was always composed, didn’t let anything or anyone get to her. A faint smile appeared on Y/n’s face before she wiped away the tear that slipped and composed herself. She wanted to say something but had no energy left in her to argue, so she only nodded.

“You are right, it would put my father in danger. I won’t make that mistake twice” Y/n admitted before silently walking out of the room.

—

“What’s going on?” Y/n stepped out of her room as she heard noise and movement coming from outside.

“We’re moving to Rhysand’s townhouse” Nesta informed her sister.

“Great! And when was this decision made?” Y/n sighed.

“Yesterday… after you left”.

“I see. Is it because-”.

“Elain needs fresh air and staying here won’t help anyone”.

“Right… Was anyone going to tell me or were they just going to drag me there?”.

“I was sent to inform you, since-”.

“Since I basically told them to piss off”.

“Something like that. Let’s go” Nesta led her sister upstairs where the Illyrians and their other sisters were waiting, in addition to the one-eyed ginger. Azriel was the only one who dared to offer to take Y/n. He was met with sympathetic looks from his brothers and Feyre.

To his surprise, Y/n did not object and took the hand he extended to her. This time she’d be calm and composed. She did not say anything during their flight and neither did he. Knowing how she felt about him- them, he could not face her, as guilt crept up on him. They were the first to arrive and when they reached the front door, he released his grip from her waist and opened the door. “Where’s my room?” was all she asked. He informed her and she nodded in thanks before leaving for her room.

—

The next day, a healer called Madja was sent to examine Elain. To see if something was wrong with her, but she found nothing. She informed the sisters that there was nothing wrong with her physically and that she cannot enter her mind, since apparently being Cauldron-made gave them immunity against anyone who tried peeking around in their minds. This made Y/n feel pressure lifted off her, seeing as now neither her sister or Rhys can ever read her mind without permission. Madja suggested that Lucien try, seeing as he was her mate, maybe he could sense something they couldn’t. Although Y/n hated the idea, she agreed for her sister’s sake.

“What the hell did you do to her?” Y/n yelled at Lucien as Elain stood from her seat startled by whatever he did.

“Nothing” he claimed and apologized to Elain. After a while, Nesta walked out of her lesson with Amren and took Elain to the garden, away from Lucien. He informed Feyre that he felt her, but as Y/n thought he could not sense what was wrong. Feyre assured him they could try another day before walking after her sisters to retrieve Nesta for Amren. Lucien was left standing alone with Y/n.

“Don’t even think about getting together with my sister” Y/n warned.

“She’s my mate” he reminded.

“I’m letting you near my sister, you one-eyed bastard. You have done enough damage. You might be able to fool the others, but you don’t fool me. I know the only reason you’re here is because Elain is your “mate”. If she wasn’t, you wouldn’t have cared, you would’ve stayed with that dumb fuck of a male, his existance is a waste of oxygen. And don’t think I’ll ever forget how when my Feyre was suffering, when your ‘friend’ locked her up, you did nothing. When you tried taking her back by force, after seeing how she suffered. When you stood by while that monster made a deal with the King to use his land to slaughter humans. When my sisters became what they are because of you and your friend’s stupidity. You couldn’t even be a good friend, and let him spiral out of control, let him become the villain that everyone hates. So, over my dead body would I let you have her, but I don't put it past you to kill me to get to her, knowing who you keep company. But at least if you kill me, Elain will see you for who you truly are” Y/n said coldly, only hatred in her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry about wh-”.

“You’re only sorry, because she happens to be your mate. Don’t waste your time with me, I will never forgive you” she walked slowly upstairs, knowing her words will leave a deep scar.

—

Y/n was on her bed reading, when two High Fae males appeared in her room. From the way they looked, Y/n knew they were the King's soldiers. She promptly jumped out of bed and shouted “Elain, get out of the house now! RUN”.

“Don’t worry, we’re not here for your sister. At least not that one” one of them smirked.

“Stay back!” she warned.

“Or what?” one of them blew out blue Faebane dust at her, rendering her magic, whatever it was useless “you can either come with us willingly and make it easy for everyone or you can try and fight back, but it won’t be fun, at least not for you” one of them laughed as he took his blade out.

“I think you know which one I’m sticking with” she gave them a smile, not letting them see her fear. As one tried to move towards her, she threw the lamp on her bedside table at him and jumped on the bed, hoping to reach the door. The other one was fast enough to yank her back by her braid, throwing her on the floor. “Is that all you’ve got?”.

“I’d say it’s not fair to fight an unarmed woman, but again when is it ever fair?” She managed to kick him in the balls before getting back up on her feet and opening the door. When she reached the stairs, one of them pushed her down, resulting in a few bruises and a sprained ankle, possibly a mild concussion as well, but surprisingly nothing more. She limped to the kitchen, in search of a sharp object she could use. The first thing she saw was a small knife, but it would have to suffice. “What do you think that knife is going to do?” a mocked laugh came from one of them as he slowly walked into the kitchen.

“That depends on your fighting style. It could be the eye, your throat or even land right between your eyes or legs. Who knows?” she shrugged “I’m not going down without a fight. The only way you’re taking me with you is if I’m dead”.

“The king needs you alive, but he said nothing about harming you” one of them lunged forwards but before he could reach her, Azriel ripped his throat with his bare hands, blood splattering all over Y/n’s face and nightgown. Before the other one could react, Azriel threw his blade, Truth-Teller at him, which landed in the middle of his face.

“I had it covered”.

“I’m sure you did. Are you alright?” Azriel scanned Y/n bodies for any injuries.

“I’m fine, but Elain-” she remembered as the adrenaline wore off.

“She’s fine. No one tried to attack her” his hands were on her shoulders, still scanning her.

“I’m fine, Shadowsinger. I just sprained my ankle” she reassured him.

“That is what’s worrying me. You fell down the stairs and only got a sprained ankle”.

“How do you know that I fell? And are you saying you’re disappointed I didn’t break my neck or get worse injuries?”.

“I- that’s not what I meant. Just forget it and I’m sorry about the mess and the blood” he gestured to the blood on her face.

“That’s the least of my worries” she chuckled.

Azriel had just finished getting rid of the bodies, while Y/n sat on the couch with an ice pouch applied to her ankle when Feyre, Nesta, Rhys and Cassian walked through the front door.

“You look like hell” Y/n said to her sisters.

“I could say the same to you” Nesta gestured to the blood still all over her and the messed up braid.

“You should see the other males” Y/n stood up and gave her sister a warm hug “I’m glad you’re alright” she took a step back and shifted her gaze to Feyre “both of you”.

The others arrived and gathered in the living room to plan for any future attacks. They informed Y/N why the King was after them and what had happened to the queen who jumped in the Cauldron after them, but still she couldn’t understand how that would happen, seeing as she went in after Nesta and nothing happened to her.

“Maybe it’s because you went in immediately after Nesta and the Cauldron did not realize she took something from it” Cassian suggested.

“But as I recall, you stayed much longer than Nesta and Elain” Rhys reminded.

“The ravens said that both of you stole something from the Cauldron. What did you take, Y/n?” Feyre asked.

“I don’t know. All I know is when I went under, I was full of rage and hatred and I wanted to destroy the Cauldron. Other than that, I don’t remember”.

Then, they went back to discussing the meeting with the High Lord and who had agreed to come and possible outcomes of the meetings.

“The queen might come” Elain said. They all wondered who she was talking about and she clarified it’s the one with feathers of flames. Everyone was confused except for Azriel, who came to the conclusion that Elain was a seer. They started asking Elain questions about this queen and then debated about going to find out more about her and maybe bring back an army when Lucien volunteered to go.

“I need a bath” Y/n sighed before standing up again and heading towards the stairs. Azriel rushed to help her, but she held out her arm, gesturing she could walk alone.

—

“I need to send this letter out” Y/n entered the living room, where the inner circle except for Feyre and Mor were sitting.

“Alright, Az will take you. I have some things to discuss with Amren” Rhys said. Azriel stood from his place and nodded in agreement.

“Where’s Feyre?” she questioned.

“Out with Mor. She’s showing her something”.

Y/n strode towards the door and Azriel followed behind.

“Don’t be late” Cassian quipped and Y/n lifted her hand up, showing him the middle finger before leaving.

“I’m sorry you got stuck with me” Azriel said.

“I suppose it’s alright. It was either you or the General and I’d take you any day over him”.

Azriel snorted “what’s the deal between you two?”.

“He’s a giant prick who loves annoying people”.

Azriel winnowed them out to the dispatch center and waited outside when Y/n hesitantly walked in. She had finally decided to send that letter to her father. She informed him of the war that is to come, of how she and her sister were transformed against their wills and that she now lives with Feyre. But she also lied, telling him she’s happy where she is and that he shouldn’t worry about her. That she’ll come visit him once the war is over.

“Is everything alright?” Azriel asked when she finally came out, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Yes, it’s fine. Let’s just go”. With that he wrapped them in the shadows and winnowed out.

“Where are we?” Y/n noticed her surroundings were not something she was familiar with.

“We’re on a mountain”.

“No shit, that I figured”.

“I come here sometimes, when I’m feeling low” he confessed.

“Who says I’m feeling low?”.

“I’m not blind” he gave her a knowing look, his eyes narrowing slightly as if to say I can see right through your lie “you’ve been like this ever since this morning, especially after delivering that letter”.

“And what am I supposed to do here?” she crossed her arms.

“Take a break. Away from everyone. You can see Velaris from here. It brings me peace whenever I come here. I thought it could do that to you too”.

“I appreciate the thought, but peace is not something I will experience any time soon”.

“Then just take a break for a moment to breathe, unless you prefer going back and enduring Cassian” he joked.

“Fine…so what am I supposed to do exactly? Look down at the city and enjoy the view?”.

“If you want. Whatever makes you feel better” he sat on a rock, his arms crossed.

Y/n stepped towards the edge and looked over for a few minutes before speaking “it’s hard to do anything when you’re sitting behind me watching like a hawk”.

“Would you prefer it if I left? I can give you however much time you need and then come back to get you” he offered.

“No. Just- if you’re going to show me a city, show it to me at night or dawn. Everything looks more enchanting at these times”.

“Duly noted”.

“We can leave now, I feel a bit better”.

—

Y/n was knitting in the living room, a new hobby she’s picked up, when Amren walked in, informing everyone that Hybern had attacked the Summer Court. The inner circle were discussing strategies and exchanging information about what to do next, when Rhys decided they were going to aid the Summer Court.

Azriel and Cassian were preparing for war, checking their blades and tapping the siphons atop their hand, spreading their scaled armor across their body. Their expressions cold and devoid of emotions. Although Y/n had seen him- them in their full armor before, she never witnessed them preparing for a fight or a war. The sight of them made her heart skip a beat. Was that worry she felt? She did not know. She stood from her place to say something, but they were gone before she could. Nesta questioned if Mor and Feyre were going to fight and Feyre informed her that they would if needed.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever @stained-glass-eyes0708 @aehllitas-blog @nebarious

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 10 months ago

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The Fig & The Lime (The Surprise, Part 5)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, vague references to sex, church times and references to religious trauma Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: As your risk of a miscarriage goes down, you and Emily decide it's time to start telling people about the baby. You decide to start with the hardest person: Emily's mom. And her reaction prompts you both to make your first major parenting decision together.

Week 11: The Fig

You couldn't remember sleeping more in your entire life. You felt like you’d reverted to infancy: eat, sleep, repeat. No matter how long you slept, it was never enough. By 10:00 AM, you needed a nap. Then again at 2:00. Maybe 4:00 as well. And at night? You were lucky to make it ‘til 8:00.

So Emily wasn’t surprised when she got back from her week-long case and found you fast asleep, curled up on your side of the bed, your glasses crooked on your nose and your thumb stuck in a book. She smiled lovingly at you, pausing just to stare at you for a minute, just to watch your chest move up and down, to listen to your little huffs of breath.

Emily set her go-bag down, removed the dirty clothes, and threw them in the closet hamper basketball-style. One missed and landed nearby on the floor. She shrugged, stupidly relieved that you’d been asleep for it. You would’ve made fun of her for missing.

She crept over to you, trying not to make a sound, and leaned down to brush your hair out of your face. She gently removed your glasses and set them on your nightstand, then slid the book out of your hands, careful to hold your place. Emily leaned down to place a soft kiss on your head, standing back to stare at you again.

She shook her head and smiled. How many years had you been together? Was it five now? Six? And she still got butterflies every time she saw you sleeping in her bed. There was just something so vulnerable about you when you were asleep, something precious and rare and beautiful. For Emily, sleeping around someone meant incredible trust, it meant believing that you were safe when you could do nothing to protect yourself. Emily didn’t feel that kind of safe around anyone except you. So it made her heart melt every time she found you sleeping, every time you let yourself drift off, every time she came home and you didn’t wake up because your body and mind felt so safe with her. Emily loved making you feel safe. And, to her, moments like this were the physical manifestation of a mission accomplished.

Emily took a quick shower, washing away the grime–physical and mental–of a week spent hunting a gang of serial killers. She put on a soft t-shirt and sweatpants and crawled into bed, calm flooding her body knowing that it was Saturday afternoon. She’d have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to do nothing but be with you.

As she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you to her, you breathed in sharply and blinked. For a moment, Emily felt guilty for waking you, but the guilt disappeared when you turned your head around, bleary-eyed and beaming.

“You’re home,” you breathed, voice raspy. You turned around so you could face her, then wrapping your body around hers and holding her as tightly as a snake, your head nestled in the crook of her neck. "You smell good," you mumbled.

Emily smiled. Half-awake, half-asleep you was her favorite because you were less self-conscious than usual. All-awake Y/N would feel a little embarrassed about wanting to be so, so close to her. All-asleep Y/N would have been, well, asleep. But halfway Y/N… Emily loved the way you pressed your body into hers, like you were making yourself a nest, a home, right there in her arms.

She kissed the top of your head, running her hands through your hair.

“I missed you,” Emily whispered. “Go back to sleep, love.”

“Wait, I have to show you something,” you groaned, stretching a bit and turning to lie on your back.

You took her hand and guided it down your body.

Emily raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen this, but I’m happy to take another look if you want.”

You whacked her playfully, still not quite awake.

“No, you perv,” you grumbled. You pressed her hand down just above your pelvic bone. “Do you feel that?”

“It’s kind of hard, like a… like a bouncy ball or something.”

You nodded, smiling, your eyes drifting shut again. “It’s the womb.”

“It is!?” Emily sat up and crouched down above your belly, eager to see–though there wasn’t really much to see yet. She pressed on the spot gently with her fingers, staring at it wonderingly.

The baby’s in there, she thought, giddily. My baby’s right there! She placed a kiss there, for you and for the baby.

“Does it feel weird?” she asked, glancing up at you when you didn’t answer. Your mouth hung open and you snored softly. She smiled; you’d fallen back asleep.

She kissed the spot where the baby was one more time, then kissed your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. She manhandled you a bit so that you were snug in her arms, the way she knew you liked to be, even if you didn’t like admitting it. Emily wrapped one arm around you, and with the other, placed her hand over your womb, feeling the little rubber ball like it was magic and might disappear at any moment. But she knew the real magic was you, your body knitting together a child right there, right below her hand.

Week 12: The Lime

You glared at yourself in front of the mirror, tugging on your maxi skirt.

“You look beautiful, honey,” Emily said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Zip me up?”

You sighed and zipped up Emily’s dress, a red-and-white floral number, momentarily distracted from your own outfit by how truly stunning Emily looked.

“I wanted to wear a suit,” you grumbled. “You know I like suits better.”

“Well, Little Lime disagreed,” Emily replied, trying to hide a smile.

You weren’t showing yet, not really, but your custom suits didn’t fit anymore, and you were furious. It was Easter Sunday. You were going to Mass with Emily’s mom.

Neither of you were religious, but it was important to Elizabeth and, while Emily and her mom weren’t very close, Emily figured that once or twice a year, she didn’t mind seeing her mom–and she actually kind of liked going to Mass.

“You know I like to look extra gay when we go to church,” you complained as Emily pulled on a pair of heels. “What if they think we’re just friends?”

Emily chuckled, taking your hand and kissing the side of your head. “Baby, I’m pretty sure no one’s gonna think we’re just friends.”

You locked the apartment door behind you, still not entirely convinced.

“I mean, I can make out with you during the homily if it’ll make you feel better,” Emily teased.

“No.” You shook your head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“You’re still okay with telling my mom about the baby?”

“Yeah,” you decided. “It’s time. Plus, when would we see her again?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know… New Year’s?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think we should show up at Christmas Eve Mass with a surprise three-month-old.”

And with that, you headed to the one place you’d always assumed you’d never return to: church.

Elizabeth hugged Emily stiffly as you slid into the pew, then hugged you a little less stiffly. It wasn’t that she was homophobic exactly, it’s that she would have preferred Emily settle down with a man instead of a woman. But she liked you. You had a hard time with her, mostly because you knew that Emily, despite growing up with enough money to support about eight of your family, hadn’t had a happy childhood with her mom. But you did your best to be kind and gracious, for Emily’s sake. Emily didn’t want to be close to her mom, but she did want her in her life, and that was enough for you to try your best.

Emily had a complicated relationship with church. You’d grown up Baptist, not Catholic, so the solemnity and tradition of Catholicism was foreign to you. Despite being an atheist, Emily still found comfort in attending the occasional Mass. It was the repetition, she told you. The familiarity of it. You didn’t understand, not really. When you’d left religion, you had never wanted to step foot in a church again. But Emily was not you. There were parts of it that were home to her–as much of a home as she’d ever known moving around so much. And even though you didn’t understand, you honored and respected it.

You wondered, as the sounds of Latin and the smell of incense mingled around you, if Emily would want the baby to be baptized. You hadn’t discussed it. Religion wasn’t something you discussed often. You guessed you’d be okay with it, but you were adamantly opposed to raising a child to believe in God. Your own childhood had been filled with fiery stories of hell, tales of martyrdom that venerated toxic self-sacrifice, and the crushing, shameful, pervasive belief that something was inherently wrong with you–something that God had to fix.

You would never, never let your child believe that something was fundamentally wrong with her. Never. You wanted her to grow up believing that she was fundamentally right just the way she was. You made a mental note to discuss all this with Emily later. You assumed you’d be on the same page, since neither of you believed in God, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

After the service, Elizabeth took you out to eat at a very nice Italian restaurant. She ordered a bottle of wine for the table, and as the waiter leaned down to pour your glass, you tapped his arm.

“Just water for me, thank you,” you told him.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, looking back and forth between you and Emily.

“Something to share?” she asked.

Emily exhaled deeply and smiled at you. She was nervous, you could tell. She took your hand and looked at her mom.

“Yes, Mom. We are… having a baby. Y/N’s pregnant!”

“Well,” her mom responded, taking a sip of wine. Emily’s face fell. You could have slapped Elizabeth. “That’s… that’s excellent, dear. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Emily mumbled, and you squeezed her leg under the table. Most of the time she was so good at predicting her mom’s reactions. She was used to being let down and sidelined, used to her mom being disappointed in her. But sometimes, like anyone would, she let hope get the best of her, and got hurt all over again. Of course, Elizabeth had been lukewarm about your pregnancy. She’d been lukewarm about your marriage, lukewarm about your relationship. Hell, she was lukewarm about Emily in general.

You were glad that the baby–and Emily–had one side of the family that was truly over the moon about all of it. Your parents, you knew, would be giddy at the prospect of another grandchild. And your siblings would be thrilled to have a new niece or nephew. And Emily had told you before, often, that your family felt more family to her than hers ever had.

Later, when you came home, you cuddled up to Emily on the couch, leaning back into her chest. She had a faraway look in her eyes, absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.

She sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.”

“You expected your mom to be happy you’re having a baby. That’s a reasonable expectation.”

“Not with her.”

You turned your head back to look at her, placing a hand on her cheek. “Emily. You deserve a family who celebrates with you. It’s not fair that she doesn’t do that. It’s okay to be upset.”

She seemed lost in thought for a while. You took one of her hands and played with her fingers.

“I don’t think we should go to Mass anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I don’t want him growing up in that.”

You felt your heart unclench a bit. All those earlier anxieties, unfounded.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing something though," you told her. "You always said Mass felt like home.”

She pressed her face into your neck, kissing your shoulder. “It did for a long time. But I have other things that feel like home now. Like you. And Little Lime. And the BAU.”

Your heart surged. It was an honor to be the place where Emily felt at home. “No Mass then,” you said.

“No Mass.”

And just like that, your first big parenting decision together had been made.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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itstheghostofmypast · 1 year ago

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01.53

Kim Hongjoong x (f)Reader

Summary: She was his feisty kitten, his Princess, his girl who followed the three G's- gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss- but most importantly she was his princess with a severe migraine issue.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count : 1k

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Rating: SFW

A/N: @edenesth this one's for you (I really need to finish my due work)

Banner by: @cafekitsune

She sat up swiftly, almost falling off in the process, blinking at the sight of the unfamiliar yet familiar wall in front of her. Taking a bit longer to buffer as she looked around, squinting at the darkness until her eyes landed on the black tuft of an idiot she called hers. The light of the computer created a silhouette of his figure- why were all the lights off?

"Joong?" her voice hoarse and scratchy making her wince, though it was enough to catch his attention. Swirling around to her he smiled at her, 'Baby, did I wake you up?' he whispered, trying not to be too loud, making sure his princess wasn't hurting because of him.

Shaking her head she slowly moved, her feet meeting the carpeted ground as her back pressed against the cool leather, eying her boyfriend lazily, "Why am I here- why are the lights off?"

"Because you were having migraines...did you forget, my feisty kitten?" raising an eyebrow he smirked, " I turned them off so you could sleep." sitting there he eyed her form, dressed in one of his shirts, the blanket pooling around her waist, her hair a mess, though he regretted it wasn't his doing that had turned her hair wild like that.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Manspreading. You're gross Hongjoong"

"I love you too, baby."

"You're disgusting," she whined, kicking the blanket off as she got up, deciding to go home. The sudden mood swing had confused him, he thought they were only joking, though his body went on auto mode when she stood up, knowing fully well she was not well enough to do so, jumping off his seat to grab her when she tripped.

She didn't know if it was because of the migraines or the fatigue, but as soon as she took the first step towards the door her world blurred, tilting in slow motion, shit. Before she could hit the ground she collided with a warmer, softer surface, a more familiar one. Sighing she inhaled his scent, his cologne and the mists of the aftershave he'd use. Resting her pulsating head against his chest she whined, as if asking him to do something about it.

Shaking his head in disbelief he let out a chuckle, "Princess, don't go scaring me like that." Slowly leading her back to the couch he helped her up, placing a pillow behind her head, after fluffy it up, "Sit up straight, I'll get you some aspirin." tucking her in, even though she was sitting he pecked her cheek, trying to not glance at her pouting lips, inviting him for something more intimate, but her health was what was more important right now.

"Are you...done with your work?' she asked, watching him walk around the small studio, opening a few drawers, her eyes flickering to the bright computer screen, squinting at it, the brightness annoying her.

Turning around with the bottle of pill he looked at her, watching her clear her throat and put up a brave face, as if nothing was wrong. Shaking his head he went over to press the power button of his monitor, turning it off, "You realise pretending it doesn't hurt will only make it worse?" handing her the bottle he grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewing it for her, wanting to help her drink it, though his 'independent ', 'strong', 'immortal' lover took it from him, swallowing the pills and chugging down most of the water.

"Thirsty kitty." smiling at her he sat at the edge of the table in front of her, looking at her, "And to answer your question, I finished my work as soon as you came in, but when you dozed off I let you sleep because I knew waking you up would just worsen your condition."

"Oh." was all she said before putting the bottle aside and tossing off the blanket, "Time to go home them, shorty." throwing in the nickname she glanced at him, earning a glare from him, "I don't think someone who can't take care of themselves should have the right to be mean"

With that he got up, leaning closer, tilting his head, and stopping mere centimetres away from her. Her breath hitched at the proximity, waiting for him, fingers gripping the fluffy blanket in anticipation. His breath fanning across her face, he glanced at her through his long pretty lashes, watching her move her face, trying to make sure there was some form of physical exchange, "Too bad, I don't kiss mean girls." His face was smug and so smackable as he pulled back, smirking down at her as he stood their arms crossed over his chest, watching her shocked features morph into disgust, "So, sorry, princess. I need to pack up so we can go home," making his way to his spread out things, humming to himself like nothing had happened.

He was almost done clearing his desk when something smacked against his head, his hand instinctively pressing against the back of his head as he whipped around to glare at her.

"YAH! DID YOU JUST THROW THE BOTTLE AT ME?"

She sat there all doe-eyed and innocent, pulling the blanket higher to cover her torso as well, resting it on her shoulders, smirking at him- sure her head was still killing her, but who was he to tease her and deny her of the affection she oh so greatly deserved. Even if he had been showing nothing but small gestures filled to the brim with his enormous amount of love for her, perhaps she was needy tonight, perhaps she wanted more than just the usual Hongjoong' non-physical ways of affection, which reminded her of why she had stumbled into the studio at the first place. As soon as she was done with work her headaches had worsened, which is why she had come here, demanding to cuddle to which he had asked her to wait for just an hour- must have dozed off during the waiting session. What a manipulative bastard- he's lucky she loves him, otherwise she would've...well she would've whined and complained louder and harder.

"EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!"

"Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss."

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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arlana-likes-to-write · 11 months ago

Note

Hi there. I'm sorry if I'm doing this the wrong way. I've never requested anything before. (i want to put a trigger warning for self harm)

I was wondering if you could do a Kate Bishop and female reader angst/comfort where they've been dating for a bit. Kate comes home early from duty with cliny to surprise her and finds her self harming. If you can't or its too dark I understand. I struggle with self injury and a story with Kate comforting her girlfriend who struggles with mental health sounds nice.

Scars to Your Beautiful

Summary: You thought you had time to get it under control, a dark secret that not even your girlfriend knew about. But now she knows.

Please read the warnings as some topics in the this story can be triggering for some. As always you are enough and I am here if you need someone to talk to!

Warning: mention of past and current self harm, act of self harm, verbal abuse from parents, anxiety, Kate being a good girlfriend, reader has bad mental health

Word Count: 3.2k

“Sweetheart,” you looked up at your girlfriend’s voice. Her eyes flicked to yours and the small razor blade in your hand. What was she doing at home? She was earlier.

5 Days Ago

You dropped your bag to the ground with a groan. It seemed heavier daily, but you were one step closer to graduating. Then you would be free—free from strict professors, free from anxiously waiting for a paper or test to be graded to pop up on the portal, free from the endless pressure your parents placed on your shoulders to carry on your family’s legacy.

You slumped down on the couch, and your girlfriend’s dog rested his head on your lap. The action made you smile. “Hi, Lucky baby,” you whispered, scratching his head. His tongue hung out of the side of his mouth. “When do you think your mom is going to be home?” The one-eyed Golden Retriever jumped on the couch and laid on you, forcing you to lay back. “Lucky,” you laughed. “I have to do homework.” Instead of getting up, he placed his head on your chest and closed his. “Unbelievable,” you mumbled, but his breathing soon brought you to an unwanted nap.

Soft fingers running through your hair slowly woke you up. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and saw Kate with a smile on her face. “Hi, sleepy,” she teased. “How was your nap?”

“Good but unwanted,” you sat up and put your arms around her neck. “Your dog held me hostage and forced me to take a nap,” you felt her body shake from laughter, and her arms locked you into place. “Katie,” you whined. “I have to get up and do homework and cook dinner.”

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’. “Homework can wait, and I ordered food. So now you can cuddle with your girlfriend.” You huffed, but Kate pouted her lips and gave you the best puppy dog eyes.

“Cuddling does something nice,” you gave in and rested your head on the crook of her neck. Kate reached for the remote and played the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy. You loved these moments. With her training, your classwork, and other extracurricular, it was hard to have these moments of peace. Still, anxiety began to creep into your bones as the seconds ticked to minutes, and the list of assignments was not getting any smaller. Kate touched your neck and dug her fingers into the knots. You melted against her. It was unfair how easily she could turn you into a puddle. You stayed there until the food was delivered and had to part away from the warmth of your girlfriend to eat your Chinese food. She allowed you to change the show to SVU while you ate.

“I leave for a mission tomorrow morning,” you said, dropping the chopsticks you were using. They said it should be about a week.” A week without her would be the longest you both would be apart.

“Whose going with you?” You asked.

“It’s a small team—me, Kamala, America, and Peter.” The urge to ask more died on your lips. Kate never told you what the missions were in the name of keeping you safe. It was hard to wonder, especially when nightmares woke her, and you had to clean her wounds. Instead of rattling off a hundred and one questions, you placed your food on the small table and wrapped your arms around her.

“Promise me you’ll come back to me in one piece.” It was a hard promise to keep, but you needed to hear her say.

“Of course, sweetheart,” she kissed your temple. “You are my home, my one and only. I’ll always come back to you.”

The universe must have liked fucking with you. As soon as Kate left for her mission, one bad thing happened after another. You received a horrible grade on a group project you were stressing over because your other members-only did the bare minimum for their part. Pleading your case to your professor fell on deaf ears because you passed. A passing grade wasn’t good enough. You needed to be perfect.

Then, your internship kept piling more and more work on you because they claimed you were the most responsible and could handle the workload. The cherry on top of the shitty sundae was a phone call from your mother.

“It seems that Dr. Narvaez hasn’t received your application,” you rolled your eyes at your mother’s tone. “Is there a reason for that?” Lucky greeted you at the door, making walking into Kate’s apartment difficult. But you greeted the one-eyed dog with a forced smile and a pat on the head. You toed off your sneakers and dropped down at the small table.

“Because I didn’t send it in,” your confession was met with silence. Sometimes, you preferred your parents constantly yelling or belittling you over the silence.

“And why is that?” You played with an arrowhead that Kate left.

“I don’t know if I want to work for Dr. Narvaez,” you said honestly. He was a friend of your father’s and owned a private practice catering to high-end clients. It would be good money but different from the work you wanted to do. You wanted to help people, not rich saps who wanted Botox.

“Are you serious? Your father gave up a lot to secure you that spot.” You bit your lip, stopping the sigh. It was what they wanted, not you.

“I want a break,” you told her and crossed your arms on top of the table. “Kate and I are thinking about taking a vacation.” The Bishops had a cabin up north, and she wanted to take you right there after graduation. She scuffed at the mention of your girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That girl doesn’t know what’s best for you. Not like your father and I,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. It was the same argument every time. “If you do not work with Dr. Narvaez, you will not have a successful future. You will amount to nothing. You will not only be a failure to yourself but your father, brother, and me.” This type of rant was what you were used to with her. Not praise or support or a gentle reminder that she loved you. All she would do was remind you of how much of a failure you were. If she said it so many times, it had to be true. Right?

Your mother’s degrading words echoed in your head. Worthless. Stupid. You were a disgrace. An embarrassment to the family, and you were going to amount to nothing. You were a mistake. A nobody compared to your brother. They consumed you. Everything seemed to spiral out of control. You needed some aspect of it back. It was a behavior you weren’t proud of that started in middle school. For the six months you were with Kate, you had no need to resort to destructive habits. Kate grounded you. She kept all the negative thoughts away. You found the razor blade in your jewelry box. A hidden compartment at the bottom was perfect because Kate had gone through it all the time.

So you sat on your shared bed with your pant legs rolled up. Your fingertips danced over the faint scars that decorated your skin. Sometimes, Kate traced the lines but never asked where they came from. It was second nature as you moved the sharp razor across your skin. The red of your blood bubbled to the surface. The pressure you’ve felt for the past day and a half disappeared. Finally, you felt like you had control.

The behavior continued over the next two days. Every time you brought the blade out, you promised yourself it would be the last time. It never was, but you had time to get your habit back under control. You had three days, then Kate would be home, and you wouldn’t need it anymore. You had to get everything under control, so you thought.

Present day

“What-what are you doing back?” You asked. You tried to keep your voice steady, but panic raced through your body.

“We got done early,” her voice was surprisingly calm. “I wanted to surprise you.” Her hair was damp, and she was dressed in a purple tracksuit. She must have taken a shower at the tower and rushed over here. Slowly, she closed the distance between you and here. There was enough space so you wouldn’t feel trapped. “Sweetheart, can you hand me that?” She pointed to the razor in your hand. On instinct, you gripped the blade, and you felt it cut your hand. “Please, baby, give it to me.” Her voice was firm, but you heard the plead.

“Katie,” you whimpered and dropped the blade into her outstretched hand. The world seemed to collapse around you. Your legs began to shake, and Kate caught you before you hit the ground. No tears fell from your eyes. A blanket of numbness covered your body.

“I’m going to lift you so we can get you all clean, okay?” You nodded, unable to open your mouth. Your stomach dropped as Kate quickly picked you up and walked to the bathroom. Goosebumps formed on your skin when she set you down and turned to get the first aid kit. Her body shook as she exhaled, looking at the new cuts on your thighs. “This may hurt, but I’ll be gentle, okay?” Again, you gave her another nod. You expected the sting of the antiseptic, but you felt nothing. How long have you been numb to it?

“None are very deep so that you won’t need stitches,” Kate explained. You knew that. Even in your mind-numbing haze, you knew to be careful. There was one night during high school when you cut too deep and stole your father’s suture kit. You learned that night your hands were steady enough to become a surgeon. “I’m going to clean your hand now,” without a response, she didn’t reach to take it. “Baby,” you forced yourself to look into her blue eyes. “Can I see your hand?” You nodded and gave it to her. There was a small cut, nothing compared to the ones on your legs. She cleaned it, placed a badge, and kissed your hand. “I’m going to ask you something, and I won’t be made no matter the answer as long as you are honest with me. Are there others?”

You wanted to lie. All you had to do was say no, and when she went to bed, you could clean the cuts that scattered your arms, but the lie tasted like poison. It made your stomach twist and throat constrict. Before Kate, lying about this was easy. It flowed off your tongue so quickly that even you believed it. With a quick nod, you tugged off your long-sleeved shirt. It was one of Kate’s old college shirts. Your girlfriend scanned your upper half. Again, her body shook as she exhaled. “Okay, thank you for being honest with me, baby. I’m going to clean these too.” You nodded as she kissed your forehead.

Quickly, you put your hand on the back of her neck and kept her close. You knew they needed adequately cleaned, but you needed her close. Everything felt so cold. “Tell me what you need,” she said.

“Need you,” you mumbled. “Katie,” you whined. “Please.” Your throat burned as you tried to keep your tears at bay. Kate hushed you and brought you into a tight hug.

“I’m right here, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.”

Once Kate deemed every cut was cleaned, she helped you change into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy hoodie. She carried you to the living room, sat on the couch, and covered you with a blanket. You whined when she pulled away. “I’m going to order food and get you some water. I’ll be right back.” You wanted to protest. She just returned from a mission, and you should be caring for her, but there was no energy in your body. When she entered the kitchen, Lucky jumped on the couch beside you. You ran our fingers through his fur.

The action was mind-numbing, the repetitive motion of his fur through your fingers. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but Kate returned with a pizza box, and Lucky jumped to the ground. He wasn’t far, just by your feet. “Are you hungry?” She asked. You were, but your stomach twisted and turned. Dark thoughts filled your mind of how undeserving you were. “Just a few bites. I got your favorite.” She opened the box, and it was your favorite. You took a small piece, and with every bite, Kate kissed your forehead and whispered positive words in your ear. You had another slice, and once Kate ate, she put her arm around your shoulders and brought you closer. A conversation was on the horizon, but you were in no mood to talk about what led you here. It would only lead you to spiral more.

“I know we have to talk,” your voice was soft. “Can it wait? I want to cuddle with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” you felt her sigh. “I love you, baby girl. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, Katie.”

You woke up in your shared bed with Kate. The archer was fast asleep, and at some point, she separated from you in the night. You smiled at how peaceful she looked so different from when she came home. You got out of bed as quietly as possible and went to the kitchen - making breakfast was the least you could do. There was little in the fridge. In your slow mental breakdown, you failed to fill the fridge. Come to think of it, that pizza you ate was your first meal since Kate left for her mission. God, your mother was right. You were worthless.

Deep within the freezer, you found a bag of frozen fruit and decided to make an acai bowl. So you divided the fruit, making sure Kate had more strawberries than blackberries, and placed it in the blender with some Greek yogurt. Thankfully, Kate was a heavy sleeper, and as the mixture was being blended, you started a fresh pot of coffee. Once it was blended, you poured the mixture into bowls.

It was on instinct. You picked up the two still-good bananas and the knife from the drawer. It was an action you’ve done 100 times, but this morning you hesitated.

Your eyes were trained on the knife every time you cut the fruit. It was dangerous to be this close to something sharp after last night. Dark and dangerous thoughts started to fill your head. You wondered how the knife you held would differ from the small razor blade you used. It could be deadly. “Sweetheart,” you snapped out of your thoughts. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly and set the knife down as your hands shook. “Sit, please. I made breakfast.” She sat at the table, and you placed the cut-up banana on top with some leftover granola you found. You brought it over to her with a coffee, and you quickly turned around to get your breakfast and return to her. You ate in silence. Occasionally, Kate would grab your hand and squeeze it. You wondered if she needed the reminder that you were here.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said and sipped your coffee. “I thought I’d get it under control before you came back.” Kate moved her thumb on the back of your hand.

“How long has this been going on?” You sighed, brought your knee up to your chest, and rested your chin on top.

“Since middle school, but I stopped when we got together. You made me feel grounded despite all the pressure and stress,” you explained. “When you went on the mission, one bad thing happened after the other.”

“Tell me what happened,” you told her about your lousy grade from your professor, the extra work your internship pilled on you, and the comments your family made. When you brought up your family, Kate tried to keep her face neutral, but her blue eyes turned stormy. She’s met your parents a handful of times and you knew how much she hated how they treated you. Once you were done with your story, it sounded foolish. It was typical pre-adult responsibilities; people were going through much worse. But Kate had a soft smile that almost caused the dame you were holding to break.

“You are so loved, baby girl. You are smart, beautiful, and kind. My world is so much brighter with you in it,” you felt your bottom lip tremble. Still, it was hard for you to believe. “Come with me,” she pulled you to your feet and towards the bathroom downstairs. She flicked on the lights and put you in front of the mirror. Her arms wrapped around your waist. “Look in the mirror,” you struggled to say, but you looked at yourself in the mirror. “My beautiful girl,” she mumbled, kissing the part of your skin uncovered by the hoodie. Her hands were warm as they moved under your hoodie and rested on your stomach. The warmth made you melt against your girlfriend’s solid frame. “I will say some sentences, and I want you to repeat them for me. Can you do that for me, baby?” You were a little hesitant but nodded. However, Kate gave you a stern look that said use your words.

“Yes, Kit Kat,” you smiled, using the nickname she hated. She tickled your sides, and your laughter danced off the bathroom walls.

“Okay, okay,” she said once your laughter turned to quiet giggles. Kate let out a shaky breath and turned her attention to the reflection. “I am strong,” you pouted when she expected you to say it back. It wasn’t true. You weren’t strong. At this moment, you felt so weak. “Come on, sweetheart, say it back to me.” You sighed.

“I am strong,” you mumbled. There was no belief in your words but Kate kissed your cheek.

“Good. I’m so proud of you. Alright, next one. I am smart,” she continued with more phrases. Each one was different from the next, but they had the same idea: I am confident, brave, and loved. Every time you repeated a phrase back, your voice was stronger, and a small part of you started to believe it. “Last one, beautiful,” she whipped away your tears with her thumb. I am enough.”

“Katie,” you whimpered. It was almost painful to say or believe. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” she squeezed you tight. “Say it.” She encouraged you and rested her chin on your shoulder. You closed your eyes. “I am enough.”

“I am,” Worthless. A disgrace. Dumb. “I am enough.” It was so soft. “I am enough.” The second time was stronger. “I am,” Loved. Beautiful. Strong. Brave. “Enough. I am enough,” you cried. Kate was quick to turn you around and pulled you into her arms. You clung onto her back as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“You are baby. You are enough, and I will remind you every single day.” It was hard to believe. After years and years of verbal abuse from your family, those thoughts weren’t going to disappear overnight. But you were stronger than them. You were better than them. You were enough.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop imagine #hawkeye x reader #kate bishop #hawkeye kate bishop

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bvtbxtch · 1 year ago

Text

Stephen | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

“You’re my object of affection, my drug of choice, my sick obsession.”

Summary: 5 years since graduation, 5 years since you ran your way through Hawkins High, leaving boys in your wake…. Except one. Steve Harrington, apparent untouchable due to his infatuation with Nancy Wheeler. What happens when you see a worn out, former heartthrob with his fizzled high school flame stuck to him? Unhappy, feeling unloved and in a bind, you thought Steve could be the conquest of the night… or so you thought.

Pairings: King!Steve (Kinda) x Toxic!Fem!Reader

Content warnings: smut, angst, fluff. Non canon au. Steve and Nancy are together from Steve’s senior year to the time of the story. Cheating (emotional and sexual), p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), Reader defs isn’t a girls girl but I couldn’t help it, alcohol consumption, one night stands, stealing, public sex. This is definitely 18+ MDNI!!!!!

WC:

A/N: Hi babies I have returned with something a little bit different from my little hiatus and am super excited to try something new! This fic is inspired by the song Stephen by Ke$sha! I hope you like it!! I love you all!

The pounding in your head mirrored that in your heart as you remembered the burn of alcohol down your throat from last night. Your makeup had been smudged off onto your pillow, some still remaining on your swollen, hungover face. The day after drinking anxiety had reared its head, but a wave of nerves hit you like a ton of bricks when a vision of you writing your phone number on Steve Harrington’s arm - more or less in front of his girlfriend - faded into view.

You cupped your hands over your face and your shoulders shook. You couldn’t help but giggle at the picture of her porcelain face twisted into a bout of jealous rage. You could fully admit to yourself that you lived on the side of delusion, but there was a piece of you that wholeheartedly believed that your former king of Hawkins High would call you.

And yet, you sat and stared at the phone perched silently on your nightstand while you nursed your hangover all day. The bright afternoon light evolved into an evening glow and still you hadn’t heard the shrill ring. You put on records and VCRs. You flicked through magazines and tried to pick up the new Danielle Steele book you had pocketed from the bookstore on main street. But the soundtrack of your thoughts was the hope that the telephone would ring and that you would hear a smooth baritone voice calling you. You fought to keep your eyes open while the blue light of your TV laughed back at you. You finally surrendered to the sleep your body had been pleading for, the blur of the night previous finally making itself clear in your dreams…

The music at the dive bar had been blaring. You were on your upteenth drink courtesy of Eddie Munson. The first time you had come to the Hideout it was your senior year, freshly 18 and ready for an adventure. You had snuck in with a fake ID and eyed up the curly haired 21 year old behind the bar. His eyes had been glued on you since you had walked in. Well, you worked your charm and lo and behold, Eddie had you bent over the chipped porcelain sink in the staff bathroom. After the orgasm you gave him, he knew he would owe you for a while - and free drinks you received ever since. You flashed him a wink as you downed the third tequila shot of the night. Your plump glossed lips twisted into a smile after looking at the winces of Heather and Chrissy. The three of you had moved a half an hour outside of Hawkins to the bigg(er) city of Indianapolis, but you felt the need to parade your luxurious city life to the hasbeen jocks of Hawkins High that frequent the only legit bar in town. You couldn't count on both hands the number of guys you had toyed with that now loitered around the musty pool tables and bar tops. By the time you graduated and got a job, you thought of yourself as a big fish in a small pond. You were ready to break big city hearts and leave the lame Hawkins lifers behind. That couldn’t be you. But there was always one that got away - one that you hated to admit was one guy that scared you, solely because you would let him domesticate you if he asked.

The girls beside you let out a small woo as another shot was sent your way, this time courtesy of Jason Carver who had fastened himself a seat on the other side of the bar with yet another Hawkins Hasbeen, Andy Robinson. You raised the small glass to your lips with a devilish smile across the bar. Jason still had his abs like he did when you graduated. Owning the small weightlifting gym on the outskirts of town had its perks, you guess. You looked at Chrissy and rolled your eyes with a snicker as the burning liquid slid down your throat. At least if you didn’t get lucky with someone else tonight, he would be there and more than willing to give you a half assed orgasm in the back seat of his beat up jeep cherokee - better than ending the night alone in your books (and probably his). You scrunched your eyes closed and a flash of stars lit up the darkness behind your eyes. You opened them to blurry vision, the feelings in your fingers were being replaced with warm fuzz. You knew that if you were to get off your barstool your knees would raise hell. You let out a euphoric giggle. This is just what you needed.

You heard a small “well, well, well,” slur out of Heather’s bowed lips as two new figures emerged through the metallic doors of the bar. “Surprised to see Harrington out here. Isn’t his past his bedtime? You know I remember…” Heather’s voice faded away as you honed in your focus to the pair at the door.

Nancy Wheeler - her obnoxious perm and housewife dresses… You couldn’t help but hate her. She was everything you weren’t: safe, boring, square. Her manicured hand rested in a much larger hand, and that hand was attached to toned arms in a light cotton crewneck. You couldn’t help but feel the saliva pool in your mouth. Nancy looked up to her beautiful brunette with her stupid doe eyes and he flashed her a small cautious smile. They stuck out like sore thumbs. She didn’t belong here, but Steve Harrington was too good looking to be in this shitty bar. It’s like your friends could read your mind. Chrissy pinched you in the side and Heather let out a childish giggle.

“Don’t even think about it, Y/L/N. Nancy’s had him on lock since, like, junior year.” You were well aware.

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ll be smart…” You challenged. Your friends were very aware of your determination. If you wanted something, you got it. And Steve Harrington was on the menu. You watched the handsome couple stalk to one of the tall bar tables across the room from your seats. Steve’s eyes locked with yours and you licked your lips. No matter how hard he tried, like a magnet, your gaze kept him locked on you. The man felt a tug on his arm as Nancy shuffled him to the table. As their conversation lulled on, you couldn’t help but attract Steve’s eyes again. You waved your arm to Eddie for another shot.

“I think it’s time to have some water, doll” the mophead behind cooed. For the first time tonight you ruffled through your purse to find a folded 20 dollar bill. You placed it in the hem of your bustier and flashed your sultry eyes at Eddie.

“You want a tip or not, Munson? I think I have already shown you how much I appreciate your customer service.” The man’s cheeks grew flushed as he grabbed the bill out of your chest with nimble fingers - hoping that his hands didn’t slip. Another tiny glass full of liquid in front of you. Before you put it to your mouth, you raised your eyes to Steve, his mouth slightly agape, having seen the performance you had just put on at the bar. You raised the shot glass to him in salute, he blushed and turned his eyes back to his girlfriend. God, his fucking girlfriend.

He watched your neck tilt back as the burning liquid slid down your throat. He had to stifle a small chuckle at your scrunched face at the reaction to your shot. Steve always thought you were effortlessly beautiful. But you were dangerous. A junior when he was a senior, he knew about the boys you had left in your wake. He made sure to stay away, betrothed to the girl sitting across from him at the bar. He sighed a choked breath of relief when Nancy coldly told him she was going to the bathroom then to get them some drinks. He let his shoulders shrug and rearranged his pants, which were a bit tighter than when he walked in. He wasn’t left in his silence for long. His shoulders shifted back up to his ears and his cheeks grew hot when he saw you saunter from the bar in his direction. His heart was in his throat and beating harder than ever. What the fuck was happening to him?

Your moment to strike happened when you saw Nancy’s pleated dress slither out of her barstool and towards the bathroom. You mirrored her and pushed your wobbling legs one in front of the other. You carried two glasses of brown liquor with you. Your face was calm and cool, but your hands were shaking as you crossed the dingy hardwood over to a beautiful head of hair.

“So, what is King Steve doing in a place like this?” You didn’t dare take Nancy Wheeler’s spot. You wouldn’t want to be compared to the likes. You leaned your torso over the table, edging closer to the man than you would be on a stool. You preferred it that way, and you had a sense that Steve does as well.

“I could ask the same thing to you, Y/N.” He mumbled, but you can tell his confidence was growing. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Who told you I’m a nice girl?” You purred. “You looked thirsty over here, and I thought, since you’re in my domain, I could show you some hospitality.” You slid the drink over to him with a black painted fingernail and picked yours up and stirred it suggestively.

“Bottoms up then.” Steve grabbed the glass and clinked it to yours. Your heart stopped as you watched the beautiful man’s neck strain upwards to take his drink in one gulp. It took all of the drunken strength you could muster to not sink your teeth into his strong neck. His Adams apple bobbed in strain and the liquor made his cheeks bloom a darker red than they already were. You sipped half of your drink, desperate to relieve some of the tension running through your body, but you felt like you would completely crumble if you downed it all in one go.

“So.. you and Nancy… That’s pretty… serious?” You couldn’t help the venom that seethed out of your lips. Steve cleared his throat and stared into the bottom of his empty glass. He shrugged his shoulders. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Trouble in paradise, King Steve?” you jest.

“Nah, It’s just… it's been a few years I guess.” Steve’s voice was cold. You sighed audibly. The alcohol and the pure lust was getting to you, and you could barely contain yourself.

“Too bad… the word on the street is I could treat you much better.” You could barely bring yourself to look into his eyes, but when you did, you were met with an intense stare. You couldn’t read all of the emotions behind his eyes, but it made your core quiver.

“Word on the street is you know how to treat a lot of people.” Steve scoffed. His defenses were up. Why in the world were you coming to him now? He had always stolen looks at you. He knew how magnetic you were. He wished he knew you in high school. Maybe then he wouldn’t be stuck working at his dad’s law firm. With a girlfriend who he felt stuck with; no sense of adventure, no true love in sight. But then you sauntered up to him and made his heart believe in life again.

“Well you aren’t wrong. But I only have eyes for one right now.” You winked.

“Wish we could have had this conversation three years ago…” Steve whispered, hoping that you didn’t hear him. You were delectable, and laid out in front of him; and he knows that if he were to have a few more drinks, he would have forgotten all about the girl that he had come here with - his… girlfriend. Fuck, his girlfriend. You flashed him a pout and a disappointed smile. You had him eating right out of your hand.

“Well… Let me give you this.” You pulled out a sharpie from your purse and pulled his wrist towards you, pulling up his sweater sleeve. You began to scribble your phone number onto his olive skin. You had to breathe slowly to keep yourself from shaking. “Call me tomorrow if you want to pretend it was three years ago.” A look of need flashed on your face. You had been absorbed by Steve Harrington. It had felt like all of the bar had disappeared and it was just the two of you. Steve could feel that too, he had you right where he wanted you, totally absorbed and infatuated. You couldn’t help but think of Nancy and it made you shiver. You couldn’t have her invade this. Fuck his stupid girlfriend. You were determined to make Steve Harrington yours.

The two of you stayed transfixed on each other for a moment more. Steve fixed his gaze between your face and the new ink that you had given him. He wanted to nurture it like it was a real tattoo. You couldn’t help but take mental pictures of Steve’s face, so you could imagine whatever meathead you ended up taking home that night was him. You wondered what he would look like underneath you, gasping and panting for breath. What his skin would taste like: sweaty and sweet and musky. You wished that you could take his fingers and put them in your mouth right now. You were thirsty, parched for his lips on yours. You wanted to show him what you looked like underneath him, you wanted him to hear you moan his name. You wanted to fuck his brains out, the way you knew Nancy “White Bread” Wheeler doesn’t. You were connected, and it scared you because for the first time in forever, you wanted to fuck, but you also wanted him to hold you, to tell you that you’re beautiful. You wanted him to hold your hand and buy you flowers and take you out. You wanted to cook for him and play with his hair and rub his back.

You were torn from your world when you heard a small ‘ahem’ from behind you. Steve quickly adjusted his posture and pulled his sweater sleeve over his new love mark. You stood up straight and turned to see the frizzy haired brunette tapping her pleather pumps at you… tacky, you thought.

“Can I help you with something?” She peeped. “Or is there another reason why you’re over here talking to my boyfriend?” Nancy’s angry eyes flicked between the two of you and her brow was furrowed. Your gaze had hardened and you couldn’t help but chuckle; she looked like a toddler and an old woman at the same time. Steve’s cheeks remained a rosy pink. He had found whatever was on the floor oddly interesting. You took a step towards the girl.

“Nothing at all, darling. Just thought I would say hello to an old friend and grab him a drink.” You breezed past her, knocking her lightly on the shoulder.

“See you around, Harrington.” You sang behind you. You couldn’t see her anymore, but you assumed that if looks could kill, you would be on the floor. You strutted back to Chrissy and Heather and slumped back to your stool. You exchanged mischievous glances with the girls, and then turned proudly to Eddie, who was flashing you a disappointed look. A victory for you, a loss for Nancy Wheeler - or at least you hoped.

Steve continued to stare at the ground while Nancy eyed him suspiciously.

“What the hell did she want, Steve?” she pried. Steve huffed before looking up at her. Her eyes didn’t glimmer at him like yours did.

“She just came over to say hi…. I hadn’t seen her since Senior year.”

“Did you even talk to her senior year? You know the reputation she has…I don’t like her, and I don’t like her talking to you, Steve,” within the past year, he had thought of Nancy more like his mother than his girlfriend. He had been growing more and more confused lately. The love seemed to be lacking and he had caught himself wondering what his life would be like if he left it all behind, left her behind and started over. You made the idea of abandonment way more appealing. He felt himself growing unreasonably angry with the blue eyed girl sitting across the bar from her. He needed to defend you. You were the only thing on his mind.

“Who the hell cares, Nancy? What do you think that she was going to do? Fucking make out with me in front of everyone? She asked how we were doing. She asked about you and me. Chill out and have fun or let’s just get out of here.” He scowled. Nancy was taken aback and slid a chilled PBR across the table to Steve with a scoff. She drank her vodka cran in silence. Steve couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to your figure laughing and smiling with your friends. He wanted to laugh with you. He downed his drink, took Nancy's hand silently and pulled her towards the door. She had a permanent frown on her face as Steve pushed her through the door. Before his body disappeared from the door, he took one more glimpse at you. Your eyes locked one last time and you sent him a wave as he disappeared into the Hawkins night. If he couldn’t have you, he’d fuck Nancy until he forgot about you.

It was 3 am and your body literally couldn’t peel itself off of the plastic bar stool. Chrissy and Heather had gone home with Jason and Andy - your appetite spoiled when you watched the only person you wanted to be with leave the bar without you. You heard the stomps of old reeboks and the jingle of keys come up behind you. The lights had suddenly gone out.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get you home okay?” Eddie pulled you off the stool and wrapped your arm around his shoulder.

“Can you stay over, Teddie?”

“Not this time, honey. You need sleep and you need water. You aren’t thinking straight.”

You pouted quietly, but you decided to finally take no for an answer. The thought of sinking into your bed and hoping - praying - that Steve would call you.

Steve had pulled Nancy into his bedroom of his parents’ empty house. He feverishly pulled at Nancy’s belt as she fumbled with the zipper at the side of her dress. Steve’s mouth didn’t leave her skin, and his eyes remained shut, save to navigate himself around his house. A flurry of clothes, soft sighs and sweaty skin. Steve had only had two drinks, but he felt drunk thinking of your encounter at the bar. He pressed his eyes closed as he mouthed at Nancy’s chest, wishing it was yours. He slid down her torso pondering what sounds you would make if he was kissing towards your sweet center. He pulled Nancy’s panties to the side and swiped his tongue along her heat, thinking about how delicious you would taste. He then flipped Nancy over on all fours and slid into her with a grunt. He couldn’t stand to look at her, wishing her body was yours, wishing her sounds were yours, wanting to hold you in his arms after. Steve finished quickly, his perversions towards you spurring him on.

The couple collapsed into Steve’s king bed. Nancy traced small circles on his chest while they caught their breath. Steve felt satiated, his hunger for you ebbed, for now.

“Steve! What’s on your arm?” Nancy yelped. Steve’s heart dropped into his chest. He frantically turned himself away from his girlfriend. Nancy’s small hands grabbed Steve’s shoulder to turn him back to her. Her nails drug down to the tattoo you had given her boyfriend and her face began to heat up.

“What the fuck is this, Steve?”

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junedenim · 5 months ago

Text

2007

beneath the boardwalk, part 5 (series masterlist)

my mistakes were made for you

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, robert, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I had my hair cut just above my shoulders but it was not a bob, I am adamant about this. I got a light fringe that I never wore full-frontal on my forehead. I was inclined to pull the two sections apart like a curtain or, regrettably, have them as side bangs.

After New Year's, I returned to London and left many things behind in Wakefield, most notably my journals. I was starting fresh and wanted to claim independence. Stacey gifted me a stack of Moleskine notebooks for Christmas that I wrote in and I began babysitting two girls (5 & 7) who lived in the building with their single mother, Lee, who was 6 years older than me. Georgia and I refused to turn on the heat because we weren't overflowing with cash, especially after my father and I agreed I would start paying rent after the three-month grace period he gave me.

The other reason was we felt more like struggling artists, piled under blankets, wearing two pairs of socks, and heating meals in the microwave because they had grown too cold too quickly. Georgia would write poetry in her room then meet me in the living room and recite it. I was without an editor since Alex and I's parting. So, I began to share my writing with Georgia. After we traded pieces, we would crack the window open and smoke cigarettes out of it.

I was aware I was using Georgia to refill the Alex-shaped hole in my life. What Georgia and I were doing was what I dreamt for Alex and me. I had overwhelming happiness for Alex but I felt disappointed (and certainly jealous) that we didn't experience the struggling artist phase together. But Georgia was what I needed: a friend.

Madeline Critchley, who helped me submit to Granta, got me a position with the University of Greenwich's literary magazine, Anthology. It felt dumb to start at the magazine a few months before I was finished with school but she told me it didn't matter how much time I put into it but what I got out of it. It was cheesy but it ended up being true. I wrote endlessly, trapped inside that building. I was overcome by some being and she never let me stop.

I was invited to a secret gig at The Leadmill in February. Arctic Monkeys's tour director emailed the invitation. I thought about going but used the excuse of babysitting and RSVPed no. Georgia, her new girlfriend, Kyle, Dianna, Robert, and I went and saw Amy Winehouse instead. Obviously, I don't regret the decision.

Not speaking of Alex seemed an unspoken rule but I couldn't help but think of him when Amy came on stage. Not because I related her songs to Alex and our relationship but because the bastard got to meet her and didn't fucking introduce me to her!

Robert's place was a close distance from Astoria so we all, except Dianna, went back and crashed at his place instead of taking a 40-minute ride home on the underground late at night. Georgia and Kyle would sleep on the pull-out and Robert would share his bed with me.

Before we went to sleep, Robert and I smoked a joint in his room. It didn't do much for me, only making me tired-eyed. Robert was in a constant state of haziness. He wore leather pants and a turtleneck. His hair was overgrown and every movement he made bounced his curls.

"Heard about you and Alex." It was the first time we had seen each other this semester. I had only told Georgia, she informed everyone else for me.

"Yep."

"Sorry 'bout that."

I shrugged. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about.

"Sucks we can't get free concert tickets now."

I huffed a laugh. "I didn't think you were much of a fan anyway."

"Well, you know, it's a good place to pick up girls." He eyed me. It was obvious.

"I didn't pay attention to that kind of thing."

"Oh, come on, like you weren't watching every girl there who could steal your man."

I shrugged again. I was never threatened by that idea or maybe I was just uncaring towards it.

"Your ambivalence is a man's greatest dream."

"He never did anything for me to not trust him."

"What about me?"

"Oh," I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. "I'd never trust you."

We shared a laugh and the joint had reached its butt. He put it down. "So, shall we just get to fucking?"

I pushed off the wall and walked over to what had been deemed my side of the bed. "God, Robert."

"Come on. It's been a long time coming. We're here. We're single. It's our last year. We're never gonna be here again."

"You just want to get yours wet."

"So, you're wet? And hell yeah."

"Shut up."

"Let me kiss you."

"I'm going to bed."

"Fine. Me too."

We laid side-by-side for a minute before I kissed him and then we fucked. I don't remember much. I wasn't that drunk or high. It just wasn't very memorable.

Robert and I had a transactional relationship. Before we began hooking up this was the case and now that we were spending our nights together, we shared awful things with one another, none of which were words. Drugs seemed to be the biggest thing. A joint after sex was expected and by March, Robert and I were snorting coke with one another. It was quite enjoyable. For the time.

We ended up in Regent's Park one night. We sprawled across the vast grass. He called people—they weren't friends—on his Motorola Razr and switched between rambling with them and rambling at me. I brought my notebook and thought about writing but he was too loud.

I searched through my bag for something I never found and remembered when I came with Alex. I hated the infection of him but something about that night and picturing him on a bench next to me made me smile.

I thought of guards changing. My first trip down to London when I was 10 and how Stacey and I stood, faces squeezing through the gates of Buckingham Palace to watch the New Guard replace the Old Guard. I couldn't understand how anyone would want to stand outside on sentry duty for hours. The relief when the New Guard showed up must have been such an enormous relief as their bladders ached and their shoulders begged for mercy. I wondered about the relief Alex felt as the New Guard replaced him. Or did he wish to continue to stand still by the palace's side? But the Old Guard becomes the New Guard eventually. They all just go spinning around.

I wrote about the places we attribute to people. The corners of the world that just belong to them. (Alex, unbeknownst to me, had already done the same [505]). I left Alex's fingerprint out of the piece but it had him all smeared over it. I wrote about the Guard and Stacey's little head nearly trapped in between the metal bars. It was my favourite piece I wrote for Anthology.

I sent it to Alex. He responded:

Buckingham Palace still has guards???? Are people still trying to actively kill the Queen?

I responded:

Diana's ghost.

Alex never sent me any of his work. I dreamt of a book one day appearing on my car roof. But my car stayed in Wakefield and Alex stayed nowhere. It was a rotten daydream.

In April, days before Favourite Worst Nightmare was released, the band played the Astoria for two nights. I hadn't heard any material yet, besides the recently released single "Brianstorm" and its b-sides, I had heard none of the album. It was unsettling not to know the songs. To not have the entire setlist memorized, front to back.

My goal was always to be friends with Alex and going to the concert felt like solidifying this notion. Georgia found my need to befriend Alex so quickly after we had ended bizarre and unnecessary. But it had been months and I was ready to rip the Band-Aid. Georgia came with me. Robert insisted too.

It did end up being bizarre. I was unacquainted with going to an Arctic Monkeys concert and not talking to Alex beforehand. When they came on stage, their appearances were much like when I saw them last. Alex hadn't changed one bit, but his demeanor had. He was stiffer, not in a good or bad way, just an indistinguishable way.

New additions met my ears well with the bass of "Balaclava" ringing through me for days to come. I shifted around "Do Me A Favour" as details became obvious that the subject matter was concerning us and our teary eyes. It made me fidget but I loved it so I couldn't quite complain about the feeling of irk I got. My opinion changed when it was followed by "Mardy Bum" where I knew all of this was a conscious choice. It was an attack on my heart whose walls were still susceptible to incursion.

I found myself relating to songs that weren't written for me like I was the average listener. "Leave Before the Lights Come On" had a different meaning standing next to Robert. I felt ashamed for that and that made me enraged by Alex because without moving a muscle I felt like he was dictating my life through my hippocampus only.

After the show, we waited outside for the band. Georgia also found this insane. Robert said it was tragic but in a poetic way. I said they could go but both refused.

Jamie came out first with Katie who wrapped her arms around me which could be deemed as a threat to my life if it wasn't so loving. She did the same to Georgia and I laughed at the way Georgia flailed her arms around.

The rest of the band followed with Alex's eyes wide and looking between the floor and me, unable to process the sight in a simple glance. "Alright! We're heading back to Robert's place!" Matt shouted. His eyes on Alex became clear he was teasing him.

Regardless, I chuckled and hugged Matt. "No. I was hoping to join wherever you were going if you don't mind the intrusion."

"Never," Nick said, giving me a hug. Nick and I didn't know much about each other other than what Alex told each of us. I liked him because he had always greeted me with a wide smile, welcoming to all. He often seemed like he was just happy to be along for the ride wherever that ride took him. I like that quality very much.

As we walked out further into the street, the paparazzi snapped away, more at the band than the 3 dimwits following them, nevertheless, Robert began a potent rant against the invasion of paparazzi and how it was Big Brother and flexing that he had read 1984 as if it wasn't required reading for everyone in high school. He continued this the whole ride until we arrived at the pub.

It was premier service for a place that felt so unchic but I knew nothing about how the status of celebrity worked. Alex and I didn't go out enough for me to witness it. I had no qualms about using the complimentary service for my drinks.

In the booth, Robert sat with his arm around me. Our displays were often limited to his flat but when he stood to go use the restroom and kissed my cheek I knew what he was doing. I had to laugh, it was impossibly amusing.

I left for a cigarette. Alex followed a minute later. My back was against the wall as he approached. "Hi."

"Hi." I unconsciously handed him one. It was second nature.

He blew a puff out and asked, "You got a review for me?" That was also second nature.

I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at the floor. "Excellent as usual."

"Dry as ever, come on, Janie, you've got to give me more here."

I gave what I could. "I liked the new songs."

It seemed less jokey now as his laughter fell but he smiled at me sincerely. "Thanks."

"I'm sure the album will be great." I never doubted that. Even if he wrote the most scathing things about me, I would love it because he’d word it in such a way that I simply could not hate it.

Our conversation was like hitting a tennis ball back and forth but each time one of us hit it the other wouldn't hit it back. I thought about going inside. Then, he asked me, "You and Robert together?"

His bluntness had taken me aback and I focused on my cigarette to process the question. "Does Robert strike you as the boyfriend type?"

It made Alex laugh, which was the only relief in the world I would need. "I suppose not. Kissing you on the cheek and all—I'm sorry, not my business."

He was flustered, which made me laugh. He was small and cute when he was flustered, messing with his hair and shaking his head. "You know, he gets a kick out of making you jealous."

"Really?" Alex chuckled at the idea. I think Alex, for many years, viewed himself as the underdog, even if he was more famous, richer, cuter, and kinder than nearly anyone else I knew.

"I think you make him feel insufficient. I'm not sure why but he's always felt a need to overcompensate when you're around."

"So, he doesn't do stuff like that usually?"

I never liked lying to Alex. "No. But in full transparency, we are doing the hook-up thing or whatever."

He verged on saying something but closed his mouth and scuffed out his cigarette. I joined him in dropping mine. "Lucky him."

I pushed him light-heartedly. "Shut up."

We returned inside and Robert's arm returned around me. Later, when we were saying our goodbyes for the evening, he was loud in his exclamation that we were leaving together and returning to his flat. I had to hide my laughter. Robert's usual too-cool-for-school conduct faded at the sight of Alex. It made it funnier when Alex pulled me aside while everyone was saying their goodbyes.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow?"

I shook my head.

"Come."

"I can't. I've got to babysit."

Matt interjected, "They let you around children?"

Before I could say anything, Alex told him, "Will you shut it, Matthew?"

When Matt moved away, Alex grabbed my hands. "Just come tomorrow. Another night of free drinks if you want."

I giggled at his earnestness. "I would if I could."

"Cancel. Come on."

"Al."

"Look, how many nights am I in town for? Come on, Janie."

His eyes wide, his mouth saying his name for me, and his hands clutching mine. I didn't say no.

My arms are crossed and my head is shaking the first time I hear "505" because I don't know what to make of it and I don't know what to make of this. Alex was dressed in a sky-blue Lacoste (this will be more relevant in a few years) and he pressed down on the keys as he pressed down on me.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I wasn't sure if I should cry or smile. The song left me uneasy and I felt I didn't know what was true anymore. That wavelength between us had been severed and I imagined Alex felt sad about our break-up but I never thought he was rethinking his actions and pining for that hotel room again. I had been the one to lament over our break-up and send it to him. He had stayed reserved in all his opinions and hid away his emotions. It wasn't a new thing by any means. But I did feel a sense of betrayal when I heard the information with 2,000 other people instead of under blankets and sheets, whispered in the dead of winter.

But I didn't want to talk about it so after the show I didn't bring it up. His mannerisms shifted from his awkward movement to more deliberately positioned as he hugged me after the show like he had done so many times before, sweaty.

"Drinks?" I asked him.

He moved back and forth between his left and right foot. "I was thinking I could see this new flat I keep hearing about."

Everything was intentional and obvious. "It's not very fabulous."

He waved me off. "I'm sure you've gushed the place up."

"Gushed the place up?" I questioned his verbiage.

Alex rolled his eyes and squeezed my upper arm. "Come on. Let me see the grounds."

Off we went on the underground to my flat, just the two of us. He kept jumping in his seat on the way over, citing excitement. "It feels out of place that I haven't seen your place," he said.

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

On our way up the stairs to my flat, Alex tried to challenge me to a race but my feet hurt and I couldn't believe he still had enough energy after performing concert after concert. My back was slumped and Alex was standing up perked as I unlocked the door.

"Georgia home?" He asked as we made our way through the door.

"With Kyle."

He nodded, tight-lipped. I could see the scene unfolding before him in his mind as we stood in the living room/kitchen hybrid. He looked around the room like he had actual interest in it before his eyes landed on me with a smile.

"Do you do this in every city?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Al. You're easy to read."

He stuffed his hands in his coat pocket as he tried to fight that grin bursting across his face. "I wanted to see your place."

I rolled my eyes and walked toward my bedroom. "Yeah, sure." He followed behind like an obedient puppy.

He was attentive in looking around the room, nearly all those trinkets he had memorized from my old room had been replaced with new ones. The poster flier from one of Georgia's poetry readings, the Amy Winehouse ticket stub, and the dumb joke from Alex's Christmas cracker were pinned on my mini bulletin board. The paper crown and mini deck of cards sat displayed on my desk. A slight upturn came to Alex's cheeks at the sight.

His gaze moved back to me. "A lot smaller than your room back home."

"Yeah. Rent's expensive and I'm paying rent now."

"Out from under your dad's thumb." Seeing him as pleased with this as I had been was a happy sight. Those long chats in hidden coves where we'd be independent together. But as always Alex was happy for me even without having him as codependence.

Alex faked looking around my room more as I sat on the edge of my bed. He'd bend down to look at things like he was at a museum. His hands stayed in his pockets the whole time and he examined the corners and details of everything as if he'd be quizzed on it.

"Are you looking to see what you're going to steal from me?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "No, sorry. Just curious." He picked up the mini deck of cards, tossing it in his hands. "Round of Gin?"

"Alex." I wanted to be clear. "You came over here to play cards with me?"

His eyes were stuck on the deck's package, fiddling with the cardboard lid. "I just..." He shrugged multiple times and bounced on his feet. "I guess, I missed you, you know."

"Yeah." It was an easy sentiment to agree to because I feared I'd miss him for the rest of my life.

"We were in Tokyo a few weeks ago and I wanted to go see that Buddha you wrote about that, that, that—"

"Kamakura Daibutsu."

"Yeah." He looked down solemnly. "Wasn't there long enough to do it. I don't know. It just had me thinking about you and I know the relationship thing has sailed."

I didn't believe that. I didn't want to believe that. I had held on to those hidden beliefs that after all the madness we'd return to each other's side and all would be well. An abyss grew in me that Alex didn't believe that too.

"But," he continued. "But just all that shite that I'd done to make it worse and I vowed I'd never do that and I'm sorry for being a total dickhead."

"I did things too that I knew would hurt you."

"You did nothing."

"I slept with someone in Aruba."

He froze, his stare on me as he processed the information. "Uh, that's fine."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. I don't want to start acting like my parents."

"I don't want tonight to be this depressing," he laughed wetly.

"What did you want tonight to be?"

"I, I, to be—to hang out, to be with you."

"We could have done that at a pub. Why'd you want to come to my flat?" We looked at each other, both knowing the answer but waiting to see if the other would verbalize it.

He put the deck back on my desk and sat beside me. He stared forward at the wall for a moment before falling on his back. He rubbed his face as if to scrub it off, not wanting me to see the sight of it. My eyes never stopped following him. I was afraid to blink.

"My plan was to be all cute, tha knows."

"Aren't you always?"

The comment seemed to drop his guard a bit as he placed his hands on his chest. He took a deep breath and looked at me. His smile slowly grew as if it was being watered by the sight of me. "If you want to kiss me, you can."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him but my smile was unavoidable.

"Come on." He tugged on my wrist. "You wouldn't let me endure one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

I slapped away his hand's grip. "Quit mocking me."

He sat up. "I'm not mocking, Janie. I'm making the bad good." His face was right next to mine and it felt like the best move was to kiss him because kissing Alex could never be wrong even if he was leaving tomorrow and I would be left here.

So, therefore, having sex with Alex could never be an issue even though I slept with Robert the night before and I would sleep with him tomorrow. I wanted relief. The only solution was Alex in me. It was memorable.

His excitement worried me. "You're graduating in a few months. You could join us for festival season. It'll be in all those incredible places you want to go with beautiful weather. It'll be perfect. Where do you want to go? We'll go."

Lying in his arms had always been a comfort but now I felt this inevitability of hurting him with the false hope I had given. We lied on our sides, looking at each other, his hand draped over my waist.

"I don't know what kind of job I'll have after school. I might have to stay in London."

"We should hire you. You'll be our on-the-road journalist." His smile was infectious and I wished to have similar sentiments that once the obligation of school was done then we'd be fixed. But I wasn't going to kid myself.

I fell onto my back and clutched the bedsheet to my chest. "I think I'd be a bit biased. I don't want to be a journalist anyway."

"What do you want to be then, Janie?"

I shrugged. "I'll know when it's here."

Alex propped himself up on his elbow and quickly hovered over me. "You can't lie to me, Janie. You're a writer."

"Everybody's a writer," I argued.

He bit back a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't give me that shite for 4 years ago. You're a writer. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

"Well," I bite my lip, "there's this magazine, Granta, that I've submitted pieces to. I don't know if I want to do the whole freelance writer thing but I like writing what I want to write."

"Do it," he urged. "I'm not just saying that because you'll be able to come on the road with us."

I side-eyed him. "Sure."

"Have faith in me. I'm always looking out for the best for you. I'm always in your corner, Jane Cavendish."

It hit me. I knew it was the truth and he had always rallied for me so deeply even when we were far away from each other. "Ditto."

Alex rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Plus, you'll be able to see us headline Glastonbury."

I laughed but he didn't correct himself. I looked over and that smug bastard smirked at me and slowly nodded his head. "Fuck off. You're joking." He wasn't. Obviously.

Alex left for Liverpool at 6:30 AM. He shook me out of sleep saying he'd see me in a few weeks and kissed me.

Hours later, when I woke up, I would've figured I'd dreamt it if he hadn't written a note and placed it on my nightstand.

Come to Leadmill on the 21st & 22nd. I want a formal review. —A.T.

A couple of days later, Favourite Worst Nightmare dropped, including my—to this day—only songwriting credit on "Fluorescent Adolescent." I sent a text to Alex calling him a plagiarist. He told me to look out for the royalties check.

My relationship with Robert had remained unchanged but he gave the impression he knew what I had done with Alex. We never talked about it and when I left for Wakefield on the 20th he told me to tell the band he liked the album. I kissed his cheek. He was an annoying piece of shit but he was my friend. Few people understood it but we related to one another in a way I've never related with anyone. We were twin flames and it's why I couldn't handle him for more than a night at a time. We lit each other's fires but a fire is still a fire even if it keeps you warm on a cold night and burns you the next.

In Wakefield, my parents informed me they were moving. It had little to no effects on me other than sentimentality and having to clean out my childhood room. Stacey, however, would be uprooted and for that, I hurt.

My parents' guilt-tripped generosity allowed Stacey to attend The Leadmill show—her first Arctic Monkeys concert. She was slightly aware of the ambiguity of Alex and I's relationship and over the winter had prodded me for more. No one can claim to be a bigger fan of Alex Turner than Stacey, not even myself.

I wore my Arctic Monkeys tour T-shirt purchased at the London shows and Stacey wore the one I had purchased for her (I bought them at the merch table because it felt too awkward to ask Alex or the band for one. I used to just steal them. I decided to not hold the poor merch girl at gunpoint for a shirt). I drove my car there so Alex couldn't persuade me into drinks after. Stacey's coming eliminated any funny business. I wanted to get through school before starting anything up with Alex again. If I was even going to do that. I wasn't sure yet.

The setlist had a few new inclusions and Stacey jumped around freely. It was a beautiful sight of youth to see. It's the first time I really felt old at the thought that used to be me. Then, I felt stupid. I was a fresh 21, I had no clue how old old would really feel.

After the show, we congratulated the band on a good show and said good night. Alex told me to come to his parents' house before the show tomorrow. I accepted. I missed David and Penny. They would also be a good prevention buffer.

Up in his room, we sat on his bed and talked like the old days. There was much that had happened to talk about. Alex took the news of the house selling harder than me. I guess my sentimentality had rubbed off on him but I never viewed that house in the rose-coloured view that Alex did. But moments in my room I've locked away in my heart for just him and me. Things for only my ears to hear, my eyes to see, and my flesh to feel and vice versa for him.

After the show, we sat in my car.

"I feel like we're back to being 18," I told him.

"Why?"

I laughed to shield the seriousness with which I was speaking. "These trysts of ours."

"I already told Miles so." He had come out and performed "505" with them that night.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "Of course you did."

He shrugged helplessly.

"I'm still—well, I continued my thing with Robert. I'm not gonna lie to you."

"I kind of figured."

"I don't know how I feel about starting this again. Always being so far."

Alex sighed and leaned forward on his elbow on the center console. "After you've graduated that might not even be an issue."

"I'm not gonna follow you around like a puppy dog for years, Alex."

"I don't expect you to. But it could be fun this summer. After that, there'll be a break and we'll go wherever you pick. Swear it." He stuck his pinky out.

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked at his sweet face, always seeing so much with those big eyes. I loved him to pieces. Through all the struggles, there was that sweet face. So, I wrapped my pinky around his.

Alex was in Orlando when I graduated. He sent me a long email that is too long and personal to be printed in full here but here's an excerpt.

I think you should be a food reviewer that way we get into all the best restaurants that I'm not elegant enough to get into. Or you could just bat your eyelashes. Either would work I'm sure.

Be whatever you want. You'll be the best at it. Unless you want to do my job then stick to your day job otherwise I'll be out of one. Call me after, whenever you can. I wish I was there so imagine I am. It'll make me feel better.

He sounded like a dad. Some version of Atticus Finch morphed into a buffoon. I thought for hours about how to respond to the email. My eyes began to hurt so I just sent him photos from the day that Georgia had taken.

Georgia hid her discrepancies with me over abandoning the flat to "run off with Alex" as she said every time I brought up my summer plans. I sublet my room with full intentions of returning in September.

Robert was messier. We mutually seemed to agree that our sexual relationship would come to an end in May when we graduated. Robert held plans of going to New York and being a vagabond and I felt settled in London. Our activity had grown sparse after my trip to Yorkshire but didn't cease.

Two nights before graduation, I told him of my plans for the summer. He nodded along but laughed when I finished. "Whatever, Jane, be a fucking groupie all your life."

"I'm not."

He laughed maliciously at me. "I think you're scared of what comes after uni so you're clinging to this rich, successful ex-boyfriend. Play second fiddle to him. That's fine."

He was jealous. But I worried he was right.

I met up with the band in Dublin, which seemed fitting. It was easy to fall into the old habits of 2005 when I joined the band during the summer. However, Alex and I's relationship hadn't returned to what it had been. I slept in his bunk due to lack of space but that wasn't difficult. We struggled more with communication.

Their two shows in Dublin were messy and fanatical in the crowd. I stood backstage and listened to people singing along to a song I wrote. It didn't feel as out-of-body as I imagined and I wondered if Alex felt the same way when he heard the crowd singing along with him.

In between their first and second show in Dublin, Alex and I escaped to Wicklow, much to the annoyance of his management who worried the whole day that he had ditched the show. We returned in time, although we did cut it close.

We hiked the Glen Beach Cliff where the ocean kissed the mountains and I knew Alex wanted to complain the whole time but he didn't. His shoes were old, the seams nearly ripped open as we hiked the 3 miles. Below us, on the beach, were seals. It felt like a different world compared to the one we had experienced last night.

As we walked downhill, Alex wrapped his arm around me and despite nearly tripping several times and knocking me down with him, I refused to let him remove the arm.

"Are we dating again?" He asked.

It had been a largely neglected topic, mostly because I hadn't made my mind up about it. It was easy to be with Alex but being with Alex when we weren't actually with each other was frustrating. My biggest worry had always been ruining our friendship over the failure of our romantic relationship. Still, I wasn't sure of anything. "I guess."

He lightly chuckled. "That was enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry. I guess my question remains about what will happen after summer." The wind swirled around us and I tried my best to keep my hair out of my face.

"That's more a question for you than for me. You know what I want but I'm going to be happy for you whatever way you go. You know that right?" Alex has always been insistent on making sure I know he's steadfast in his support of whatever direction I decide to head and he has held true to that (mostly).

"Then, I'll need time to think about that. See what opportunities come my way this summer."

He nodded and tugged me closer. "This is over in December and then I'm all yours. Besides, I've already called you me girlfriend so you can't go back on it now."

In my sarcastic nature, I tossed my head on his shoulder, sounding, "Ugh! Don't be presumptuous, Al."

I got my favourite pair of sunglasses stolen at Glastonbury and I will hunt down the thief until the day that I die. Not that sunglasses were required for much of that day. The sky was dim, the ground was muddy, and it rained the whole weekend. We got there a day early to settle and like any night before a big show, it was spent drinking and horsing around late into the night.

Alex and I didn't get to bed until way past midnight and even then we had left Jamie, Matt, and other mates still fucking around. As we got ready for bed Alex had grown quiet, slow in his movements, and shrinking down into the small bed.

We laid down together and silence was awkward and he felt stiff. "You nervous?"

"Yeah," he laughed out in an effort to mask his nerves.

I curled my arm around and hugged him. I did my best to comfort him the way he always did for me. I held him tight and tried to possess a shoulder to cry on the best I could. "You know, I'll still love you even if you make a fool of yourself."

"Thanks." I leaned back to look at him as he struggled with a smile. His hand reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. He held my cheek and it felt like his muscles had finally relaxed. "I'll try my best not to. I know you don't want to be stuck with a fool."

"Aren't you already?"

He rolled his eyes and was relieved with a laugh. "Maybe only for you."

"That's so cheesy. You should be put in jail."

"As long as you were there."

I slapped a thunk onto his arm. "Stop it, you. I'll imprison you. Shush!"

He resisted my push away from him, wormed his arm under me, and landed the other over me. He wiggled us close and he felt like a preheated oven as my bones were left out to defrost. "Are you happy? Excited?"

Alex often needed me to reassure him during this period of our lives, especially after we got back together. That summer our relationship was ambiguous and it was easy for Alex to fear that at the first sign of unhappiness, I would ditch him. He wasn't exactly wrong. I wouldn't have left if Glasto sucked but if I became unhappy with Alex, it was an easy out for me. I've always appreciated easy outs.

"Yeah. I wish I had a camera. Then, I could sell them all to The Sun and make a killing."

"Is all this okay with you?" More questions. Another valid one. An undiscussed topic had often been I, an at-the-time unknown, being pulled into the public eye for my attachment to Alex. It's not like he was some tabloid superstar but it didn't leave me as a virtual unknown, especially with the band only getting bigger.

I nodded, my ear rustling against the pillow. "No stalkers. Except maybe you." He hadn't left my side since we arrived. I couldn't complain one bit. For once, I wasn't the clingy one.

He mused, "What can I say? I love you."

"Stop." Too cheesy, too cheesy.

Alex laughed into his pillow. He softened up and inched closer to me on our tiny bed. "Why didn't you bring your camera?" My photograph production had declined since college but I still held onto the habit.

I frowned. "It broke right before graduation."

"The ol’ Canon finally bit the dust,” he joked. It had been the only camera I ever owned. I used my mother’s old cameras when I took that photography class with Matt. I never bothered investing more in it than what I could borrow. “We can pick up another one."

I sighed. "Too much money. I'm an independent woman now."

"Oh, damn, you need me to be your daddy now."

I pushed him off the bed.

We mudded up our wellies the following day to see Amy Winehouse before the rain poured in full force again. I think it relaxed everyone to feel like we went to Glasto just to enjoy it and not actually headline it. We nodded our heads along with the songs and stood with our hands stuffed into our pockets.

Opposing Alex's nerves, I was wracked with excitement. I went off into my own world during Glastonbury and wanted to enjoy the hippie nature and the history. I loved the whole weekend. The nights after watching The Killers and The Who and I'm pissed with Arctic Monkeys to this day for having me miss Björk to watch their stupid headline set.

Dressed in their overcoats and Matt with his Adidas track pants, their set went off without a hitch and I had fun dancing with Katie and briefly with Dizzee Rascal before he joined them onstage for "Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend." The road had and would be lonely but it was eased a little bit by having another girl by my side. When Miles came out and joined the band for "505" I thought of Eva. I hadn't talked or heard about her since The Little Flames disbanded. I shamed myself for it. I had become a person who held onto objects that reminded you of a person as an excuse to no longer see them. The thought crossed my mind that Georgia was my only friend and I hadn't talked to her since I joined the band on the road. Then, Katie hugged me to her side and I felt a little less lonely.

I had grown desensitized to the meaning behind Alex's songwriting. I never stopped and thought about how he was singing songs that were rooted in our break-up because it no longer seemed important because we were together and how the past could affect the future. But there was this moment during "Do Me A Favour" where he had seemed rather emotional, furiously strumming his guitar and rushed singing close to his microphone. I felt ashamed for not having the same reaction as him. I felt like I was missing a gene by not crying at "Mardy Bum" or not swooning at "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" but I suppose night after night, I just became numb to the meanings of those songs. I wish I hadn't. I wish I enjoyed it more but everything felt fleeting so I made no effort to cherish moments at that age.

When they got off stage the thought had floated away and we were ready for a night of exhausted celebration. The weather was rough and the band had their casual round of press before we enjoyed drinks and party favours in the camper. Alex and I made out against the door of a porta-potty at one point. It was very disgusting.

I fulfilled more travel fantasies with this tour. The limitations no longer sat in Great Britain and Ireland as we moved up to Scandinavia, first stopping in Oslo. I was set loose and skipped their concert, instead visiting the Akershus Fortress and seeing "The Scream" at the Munch Museum finally returned to its home after being stolen in 2004 (although, I'm partial to Munch's "Madonna" but that's neither here nor there). In Stockholm, I continued this by going to the Vasa Museum and in the evening hiking up to Skinnarviksberget and watching the sunset, but, sadly, no Northern Lights.

We continued the festival run going through Germany and then Rock Werchter where at this point I should have broken the world record for seeing Lily Allen live as I once again watched her on the Pyramid Marquee before seeing my boys on the Main Stage.

A festival or so later, a day off was given before their Paris show, and, in a way, I finally got my Parisian dream. The hotel was nice and the toilet worked like how a normal toilet works but Alex and I shared a room. Privacy for the first time since his room in Sheffield. We did the obvious, a few times.

It's weird to put it how sex works with Alex and me. It's like a weird recalibrating device. I suspect it's because our relationship started through it that whenever we need to get back on the same page fucking seems to help. It was late and we shared a cigarette after because you can do that then in Paris. I would talk, he would smoke it, then he would talk, I would smoke it.

"You and Katie have become best mates," he said. Katie had returned back to England a few days prior and I once again was the lone girl.

"I like her a lot. She's a calm presence amongst the chaos."

"Yeah, she's done Jamie a world of good. Calmed him a bit." That was undeniably true. Jamie had always been a kind and caring guy but he had an uncontrollable craze at times and a mouth that poured at things that maybe shouldn't have been said. Katie seemed to kick him and keep him in check.

I have always been fascinated with how people change people. Somewhere at our center these people worm their way in and change your hardwiring or maybe they just expose what has always been there. "Have I calmed you?"

Alex chuckled. "Quite the opposite I think."

"Hey!" I became jokingly affronted. "I can be a calm presence. You lot are the ones who are messing around so much."

He continued to laugh at me. Eyes bright and smile light. He reached over and began to pet my hair. "I don't think calm would be the right word." I thought about hitting his chest but that would prove his point. "I just think you've made me more confident."

It was a peculiar thought to me. I didn't feel confident most of the time and I was nowhere near the confidence of going on stage and headlining festivals as a band's frontman. "How?" I asked.

He reached back to stub out the cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table but he kept his hand steady on the side of my head, rubbing smooth circles. He returned closer and with a soft smile. "In a lot of ways. Your encouragement." I couldn't argue with that. Alex had done the same for me tenfold. "I feel like if you believe in me, even if I fuck up out there, you'll still be here." I wanted to always be there. I hated how life got in the way and people stayed and others went and I just wanted to stay in little corners of the world with Alex forever. But in those early years, it was an impossibility. We tried our best.

"Plus, you're smoking hot." I rolled my eyes but I was, of course, charmed by the comment (I mean, I wrote it here for a reason. I want everyone to know he finds me smoking hot). "Do you know the power I have by having you as a girlfriend? For god's sake, Robert almost kicked my ass over you."

I pushed away from him. "Ew. Don't talk about Robert when I'm naked."

"Why? You've been naked with him."

Forces froze and I waited to see if he had more to say or if I had anything to say but we both felt chilled by the awkwardness. I slowly sat up more against the headboard and rested back against it. "Were you hurt by that?"

"What?"

"Me having sex with Robert because you don't really have a right to be pissed." I was defensive because I was in the right but I also framed his words as an attack.

Alex was slow in his response, I guess he was trying to find the best way to say what he was thinking without me biting his head off for it. "No. I mean, you're right. There's no reason to be pissed."

I wanted to know his real feelings. I knew he wouldn't shame me for doing it but I wondered if he felt the act of Robert and I's relationship was an attack against him. I played with my fingernails and we didn't make eye contact. We were two planks beside one another. "But were you?"

I peeked over. His shoulders shrugged and he looked down at his hands. We were mirror images of each other. "I don't know. I mean, I don't like the idea of you being with anyone else. Truthfully, Robert annoys me so I guess that confused me or upset me more. But I love you, you know." He looked over. Insistent on this part. "And that's not going away. I figured that out a long time ago. As much as I love the idea that I get to be with you for...you know, I know that I can't get everything I want. But I want you to get all that. I want it more for you than for me. You got that?"

It took me a while to regain control. I was stuck between smiling so wide my face ripped into two and crying until my eyes fell out. I took a shaky breath. "Yeah. But I want all that for you too so you're right back to getting everything you've wanted again because I want that."

"You're always forcing me to take care of myself, Janie."

I hugged him. I needed to touch him. To hold him. I whispered into his neck, "It's 'cause I love you, you know."

When the tour went on break I went with Alex to Black Box Studios in Maine-et-Loire, France where he and Miles recorded the first Last Shadow Puppets album. The whole album was recorded in a matter of 2 weeks but nothing about it was rushed. The landscape was lush and the downtime felt like something out of an Eric Rohmer film.

On the last few dates of the tour, we ended up in Sydney. It was the only time during the tour that I got the urge to call my mother. I didn't because my Nokia couldn't call that far but I sent her and my father a postcard and I bought Stacey Uggs, authentic Uggs. We had a day off where we went to Bondi Beach where Matt and I braved the cold water. Afterwards, we visited the zoo where I got to hold a koala. I felt like holding a baby, except with the softest fur imaginable. Afterward, I pouted about not being allowed to own one so Alex bought me a koala stuffed animal.

A week after, the band went to play Summer Sonic in Osaka and Tokyo. I went back home for a week. It wasn't intentional, the dates just lined up that way but it felt best to skip such a rough place. Alex has a habit of embodying the mood of places based on memories. This behavior can likely only exist for a guy who has been to so many places.

I joined The Last Shadow Puppets a few days into recording. When I arrived, Miles and Alex had just returned from riding their bikes together. They looked like twins, shaggy-haired and brown-eyed boys. Alex threw his bike down and tossed his arm over to me like we were two buds, just getting off our shift at work. It filled me with endless excitement. Then, Miles came over and cupped my face, pinching my cheeks. I slapped him away and we went inside and had dinner.

At that dinner table, I could picture a whole future. Ones where Alex and I had Miles over our house, our little stray puppy. Nights where we all went out drinking and he crashed on our couch. Miles and I would both be hungover and Alex would give us painkillers and make us scrambled eggs.

Side-by-side, Alex and I brushed our teeth. It was a greater act of love than a marriage proposal.

I had begun to videotape these Shadow Puppets. On the morning of my second day there, Alex and I were lounging around in bed when he told me he had a little present. He came out with a camera, a Pentax 17.

"For me?" I pointed to myself, holding the delicate thing, cradling it like my baby.

He snorted a laugh. "Who else?" He petted my hair back and he was the sweetest man who ever lived.

In those two weeks, I didn't have many subjects. Most of the footage and pictures were of Miles and Alex. James Ford, who produced and drummed with the Puppets, made some appearances. I slipped by in a couple too. I began to develop this plan to make a documentary on the band. It fell through, mainly because when they went to do the orchestral parts of the album in December, I couldn't go, and I was also lazy. They used some of it for a 4play documentary but it wasn't the vision I had. Alex says I would have won an NME award (I have desperately wanted to win one solely for the middle finger trophy. Alex has plenty, only one on display for joking sake, but I would beg to win one. It might have been my only chance). It probably would have sucked. I've never worked with actual film to make a movie. I never worked with anything to make a movie because I've never made a movie. I will never make one either. Because I am lazy. But, I guess, I'll get through the rest of this book and stop interrupting the flow of the story by telling you I'm getting ready to write more of this book which you will read now. Or now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.

Now, I have filmed much more on that camera other than Miles and Alex skipping through great fields and picking daisies, although I still shoot that too. If I could submit home videos for the NME Awards, I would have won one by now.

Most afternoons we rode bikes around the tiny town. I would occasionally drop into the studio out of pure boredom but I spent the majority of my downtime writing or exploring. One afternoon, the trio of us biked by Château d'Armaillé. It was a lofty manor contrast to the farms and livestock breeders we usually biked by. I stopped and stared as I usually do.

"Can you believe people lived in that thing?" I questioned, completely mesmerised.

Alex laughed, already pleased with his joke. "Yeah, isn't that the size of your family home?"

On our last night there we had a little dinner party with everyone we had come across at Black Box Studios in the two weeks we had been there. Since this was pretty much the middle of nowhere, there were very few people. But it felt celebratory to end this little project with gloriously catered French food and playing dress-up. It was mainly an excuse for me to wear a vintage dress I had found at a used clothing store in Nantes when I was waiting for a car out to Black Box.

It was a white drop-waist dress with a little bow on the side of my hip and a skirt with a light lace overlay. It was paired with a cloche hat that I regretfully didn't buy, but I still have the dress. Alex wore a button-down and slacks but Miles and I talked him into wearing a stupid top hat that had been lying around Black Box for the 2 weeks we were there. Alex ended up taking it home with him, although he does not still have it. Miles wore shorts, a grey T-shirt, and a bowtie.

The food and conversations were far more important with the most delicious potatoes I've ever tasted that were mixed with a sauce that I might forever be wondering what it was but my tongue can still feel the taste. The wine was white and Alex dropped his glass on the floor halfway through the dinner, which he doesn't want me to mention, which means I totally will be mentioning it (obviously).

His arm rested on the back of my chair and our plates had long been cleared and the dessert, Gâteau Nantais (a delicious almond pound cake, soaked in rum, and topped with glaze—I really, really liked these meals), had been picked away at. I was still eating the crumbs of my second slice and Alex drank from his new wine glass. I could see futures, but for the first time, I felt like this was the future. Friends, old and mostly new, surrounded us and we drank and ate and talked and laughed and the warmth of Alex radiated on me. I was in love with everything.

"Will Jane be heading back on the road for North America?" James asked Alex.

He turned to me with his teeth showing, smiling enough for sparks to come off it. Pride radiated off of him; it still makes me want to cry. "As of this morning, Miss Cavendish has a job with Simon & Schuester."

When I told Alex, I was cautiously concerned that his worries would overshadow the news, but I never doubted he'd be happy for me. I got the call when he was brushing his teeth. I told him when he returned to our room and he grabbed my hands and made me jump on the bed with him. (Shall I avoid the Monkeys Jumping on the Bed joke?).

The table cheered loudly and drunkenly. "Oh, shit, I know those two boys!" Miles, sooooooo drunk, exclaimed. I bashfully tucked my chin down, avoiding the attention.

Alex's hand skimmed over my left shoulder. He bent down to kiss my downturned cheek and it was like my crush just kissed the spot—my cheeks flushed red and my heart pounded on the gates of my ribs.

I waved for the noise to quiet down. "It's just an editorial assistant position."

Alex squeezed my shoulder, looking over at me, and rolling his eyes. "Cut it with that rubbish, Janie. It should have been the first thing we cheers to when we sat down."

He reached for his wine glass and I shoved his arm away. "Stop it. You're flustering me." His breath smelled of Chardonnay and his behavior spelled out drunk—his bubbly drunk phase, which is the most flattering phase. He leaned over kissing my cheeks repeatedly making the table erupt in noise again. I took a grip on his face and tried to push him away.

"I've made you all red," he boasted. Alex's face was all red too but it was likely more to do with the alcohol than me. "It's time to cheers, Janie." He motioned toward my almost empty wine glass. I shook my head. "Time to cheers, Janie," he insisted.

"You sure you aren't going to drop your glass again?" I teased.

"Oh, shut it, you," he said, but he laughed and tugged me close to him. I almost thought he was going to give my head a noogie.

He drank all the wine out of his glass before raising it. "To Jane Cavendish, Simon & Schuester Editorial Assistant."

I started on a Wednesday and I did little editing in my editorial position. But Helen, one of the editors, gave me old drafts they hadn't published and the book and told me to pick all the differences out and she would be quizzing me on it the next day. I went out drinking with Lee and Georgia and came in hungover the next day. Helen said I was the first editorial assistant she had that didn't fall for the quiz prank. That endeared her to me and she became my mentor.

Alex was off doing interviews about virginity for the Virgin Fest and I had never been more thankful I didn't lose my virginity to him. I used to wish that and tell Stacey when assuring her not to lose it so young. But it's probably best since I'd associate the time I lost my virginity with an interviewer from AXS Uncut asking Alex to name virgins.

I had moved back in with Georgia and her new girlfriend, Kyle, who was always a sweetheart, even if she didn't do the dishes. They weren't the annoying kind of couple to live with. They weren't loud and I never felt like the third wheel around them. It was easy for my mind to drift to Alex. I would relive the way Black Box felt. While the majority of it felt like a vacation, at its core, we were coming home each night together. The home is what we lacked on the road and the togetherness is what we lacked at home. I just thought of him being in my bed, sleeping. I always liked the way he looked sleeping.

Alex called more than he did on the last tour. I guess he had learned a lesson. Being in North America was a bit easier than when he'd been in the Eastern Hemisphere since he was only 6 hours behind. He'd call me when I got off work before he'd perform his concert and we would talk of the monotony of my day. A couple of hours later, usually while I was sleeping, he'd text me about how the concert went. It was usually only one word: "Good." "Great." "Best." "Sucked." "Wanker." "Drunk."

We had fallen into a pattern and although it seemed dull, it was successful. My heart still ached and sometimes the sight of Georgia and Kyle made me want to stick my head in the oven, but he was there when I needed him, even though he couldn't be here.

Working felt comfortable and, for once, I eased into that comfort. I got after-work drinks with editors and fellow editorial assistants. I'd joke around with superiors at work and I'd go home to Georgia and Kyle, who had made dinner for me. Georgia was working various gigs, but still heavily focusing on poetry. Kyle worked as a set developer, which meant our living room looked like a craft store had exploded. I didn't mind. I spent most of my off-time in my room and would only venture to the living room when we watched TV together.

However, when the North American leg finished at the beginning of October, Alex dropped by, and with a clicking of his tongue and the shaking of his head, he said, "Oh, Janie. You've got glitter everywhere." He said this in front of Kyle, so I hit the back of his head and dragged him to my bedroom.

Alex's stay at our flat during October was never agreed upon, he just showed up and I'd never turn him away. A week in, however, Georgia asked me when it was just the two of us in our kitchen, early in the morning before I headed off to work, "So, is he like living with us now?"

I shrugged. "No. I mean, he'll be back on the road before the end of the month."

"How do you feel about that?" What a good therapist she would be.

"Better than last time. I'm occupied now. I don't have to worry about lying around all the time thinking of him."

"You're a big girl now, Cavendish. But if he stays past a month, he will have to pay rent."

I laughed out loud. "I doubt he'll be living here with us."

"All I’m saying is rich rockstar can pitch in on groceries."

I told Alex of this conversation and he took me to the store to point out all of Georgia's favourite food goodies and bought them for her. Georgia felt bad after that until she had Jelly Babies. Then, she insisted Alex buy groceries every week.

On Alex's last night at the flat, he bought takeaway for everyone and watched I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! with us. Several jokes were made about Alex doing the show, but I don't think Alex could eat a bug or be stuck with Katie Hopkins for a month. After dinner, Georgia and Kyle left for a "late-night poetry reading" or more likely avoid-the-lovebirds game.

Alex and I showered, changed into pajamas, and brushed our teeth together. In two parentheses, curled to bookend one another, Alex brushed his hand down my side. I told him, "I hope you get a good tan in South America."

"I'm too pale for you, Janie?"

"Maybe your butt," I giggled. It was some form of drunk-in-love. I felt rush through me every time he looked at me. It was like taking a hit.

"Wish you could come with us," he said. He was sober in his tone but his eyes were glazed over.

"Me too, but I'm happy here. I love my job and it sucks to not be with you but—"

He smiled—beamed bright and overwhelming. "But you're happy." He curled into me. My manners had transferred to him as he curled his arms around me and dug his face into my neck. "I'll be back for a week in November."

"And you'd come back here?" I questioned. There was a touch of uncertainty in everything we did that year, mostly because we had never even said we were back together and the other part was the reason for our break-up.

Alex lifted his head, his smile still showing. "Yeah." He sounded so happy and sunny. It was a cocoon of bliss. The young love I had always wanted. His fingers traced over my shoulder, making little finger drawings. His eyes looked down on his creation, avoiding my eyes. "And then we've got two shows here in December and then that last show in Manchester, which I thought maybe you could take off work and come up for. It's on a Monday so understandable if you can't."

I smiled at him but I'm unsure if he saw it due to his shy gaze dodging my face. "I'll try my best. I'll definitely be at the London ones."

His face was aglow but attentive to his finger tracing. "And then I was thinking, maybe—I don't know—maybe I'd come back to London."

I lightly chuckled. "You're not banned from the city. You're always welcome here. Georgia and Kyle like you a lot."

"I like them too but I was thinking we could stay somewhere else."

"What? Like a hotel?"

He finally looked me in the eye. "No, maybe we move in together. Like, get our own place. Maybe. It was just a thought."

It pleased me to no end. The thought wrapped its way around me the first time we slept together and over three years later to encounter the reality of it, I couldn't believe it. "A flat for just the two of us?"

"Yeah. I know you like it here but maybe we could find somewhere that I'm not finding specks of glitter all over my clothes."

I giggled all over him. "Yeah, yeah. I'd like that too. I'd like anywhere as long as you're there."

Alex shook his head with a big smile like he couldn't believe it. He hugged me, kissing my cheek, and then...then we did other stuff, you know.

People have asked me if Alex plays songs for me. They've imagined a world in which Alex sings me a lullaby every night. And I guess the answer is "yes" but I'd say more of a "sort of" situation. Alex would often strum his guitar to me but not in a dedicative format. It was something he would have done if I was there or if I wasn't. So, I would say he never did it for me.

Except once.

He was back in London and he had arrived late the night before. I was in my jammies and my slippers when he arrived and he made fun of me for my pajama pants that had Christmas elves printed on them.

I was waiting on my bed for him to return from the bathroom. He came back, chilly from the lack of heating; Georgia and I weren't turning it on again this winter. He paced around my room before he asked, "Can I play you something?"

I furrowed my brows. "Like a song?"

He nodded and picked up his guitar. "I'm gonna do it on Radio 2 tomorrow. Like a little teaser for what's to come."

"So, this is a song for the next album?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." We never talked about the next thing, which was a problem and not a good choice for our reunited relationship.

Alex adjusted his guitar on his lap and sat in front of me, playing "Fire and the Thud" to me. He had never been that overtly romantic in a song before. Songs on the previous two albums never felt like love songs, but rather songs of longing or infatuation. But it felt like he had written this song for me as he played it for me.

It would be one of the sweetest things anybody has ever done for me if he didn't go on to do even more songs for me. Not to brag or anything.

After he put his guitar down, I curled my arms around his neck and yanked him down with me to lay back on the bed. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I love everything you write."

"Yeah, but you really loved this one right?"

"Sure."

A few weeks later, when Alex and I returned from the final show of the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour, we moved into a new flat. Together. I had picked the flat out. Alex said whatever I liked he'll like and I wasn't going to argue being the sole picker.

We moved in at a record speed, mainly because I had very little stuff and Alex had nothing, everything still back home in his childhood bedroom. My parents had officially moved down to Bath and I had received scathing phone calls from Stacey. I still feel sorry for that poor teenage girl.

Alex and I got a studio, which I liked because it felt artsy and a total adult thing to share a studio with your boyfriend. Later, it would be the start of many fights between Alex and me because I never had any privacy.

We had our bed in one corner, the kitchen in the other, and a small bathroom down the hall. Plus, it was in Clerkenwell, which was closer to work. We had his record player on the floor and a shared dresser. It was a greater act of love than sex or writing songs. It was his things mixed with mine.

We weren't there for very long. We each went back to our family's homes for Christmas, which suddenly was no longer the same area. Our time apart was short and when we returned we cleaned up the rest of our shared apartment and decided to have a New Year's Eve party.

It was wild debauchery from start to finish. Though we provided liquor, it seemed like every guest came with their own stash. I hadn't realized how many friends Alex had in London. His number of guests heavily outweighed mine but it didn't have much of an issue. Everything was communal and it was truly a night where everyone seemed free. Maybe it was the New Year's part or maybe it was being in the start of our early 20s. When I look back on this time, I forget how young I was. 17 and slutting up the streets at Barnsley and how in 4 years, I had obtained an establishing job and lived in London with my boyfriend. It was a dream book experience and like most things it was a small portion of our lives. But I felt straight out of a movie with this ending to the year I had received.

Katie and I hid in a corner to talk close together to avoid all the noise. We shared a drink and both drowned in heavy alcohol consumption but we loved each other very much and I knew we'd be friends forever (I was very drunk when I thought this and slurred this to her but time has held this statement to be true. Drunk words are sober futures). "I'm going to marry him," I told her. We were watching Jamie attempt to throw Alex over his shoulder, fireman-style. Alex was a sweet ragdoll, laughing about and swaying.

Jamie was the loyal rescuer. "I'm going to marry him too," she slurred back to me. "We'd be like band sisters-in-law."

"Aw," I cooed. "I don't have a sister-in-law." (I mean, I do, my brother's wife, but I was referring more to Alex being an only child and I was wildly drunk. Forgive me, Cecilia).

"Then I can be yours!"

Before midnight, only a minute or so before, Alex and I huddled up in the kitchen with our closest friends of the bunch. Matt and Jamie were arguing about who had drunk more and we all watched on laughing. I was burrowed under Alex's arm. He was the cave I chose to hibernate in this winter.

"Don't forget the beer you had before coming here," Alex egged Matt on.

"Yes! And the beer I had 'fore coming here!" Matt sloppily shouted to Jamie.

I pulled on Alex's hand he had thrown over me. "Don't they know I'm the drunkest?"

Alex chuckled. "Yes, with that breath you probably are." He was quite sober compared to the rest of us. Mostly because he knew how drunk I would be getting and somebody had to make sure our new place didn't get destroyed.

I pulled back, offended. "It is not that bad."

"Yes, it is," he laughed.

"So bad you won't kiss me at midnight?" I hung off of him. You'd think we were in some basement in Wakefield.

He moved his hand down to the arch of my back to steady me. "I could never not kiss you."

My eyes snapped over to him, and I raised my eyebrows with a smirk. "Really? I don't recall that being the truth."

He laughed again. "Fair enough." But then he leaned in and kissed me until way after midnight, making out in the kitchen. It was disgusting and I loved the whole thing.

Nick knocked into us as he moved through the kitchen. "I'd tell you to get a room but we're all in it." He laughed, pleased with his joke, and moved to grab another beer.

Later in the evening, Nick threw up on our bed. Nick was the drunkest.

Somewhere around one in the morning, I sat on Alex's lap and his arms were around me, holding me close to him as I talked to Georgia on one side of the couch and Alex talked to Miles on the other side of the couch. We held separate conversations about separate lives but he held me to him and he held me tight.

a/n: sigh, this is all i can think about writing as of late. i am a series girl after all.

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner #alex turner smut #junedenim #beneath the boardwalk

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gretavanlace · 2 years ago

Text

Poppins (part 5)

Josh/Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, slight angst, etc

Sleep doesn’t plan on dropping in to visit you tonight, that much is clear. Still, it doesn’t stop you from staring up at the ceiling, longing for it.

If you could just quiet the storm inside your head, if only for a moment or two, you might be able to drift away.

All hope is lost completely when your phone begins to vibrate on the night stand beside you. It crosses your mind to ignore it, but no one calls at this hour for no good reason.

With an exasperated sigh, you roll to your side and grab it up.

“Perfect.” You mutter upon seeing Jake’s name displayed on the screen. Yet another facet stepping up to complicate this shit show of a night even further.

“This better be good.” 3 am phone calls don’t lend themselves to a proper greeting in your book.

“Well, hello to you, too, pretty girl.” He laughs, clearly bright eyed and full of piss and vinegar.

“I’m sleeping, Jacob.” You huff, flopping onto your back once again.

He calls your bluff. Of course he does. “No you’re not. You sound wide awake, and I need someone to keep me company.”

“No pretty young thing to follow you home from your gig tonight?” You ask, though you certainly don’t actually want to know.

He makes a sound in the negative, and then adds, “But if I get really hard up, I can just pop my head out the door and flag down one of the hookers that are loitering around this shit hole of a motel.”

“That bad?”

“I’ll put it this way,” he breathes a wisp of a laugh, “If I were to look under the bed and find a dead body, I wouldn’t be shocked. Not even a little bit.”

“Yikes.” You genuinely feel for him. Hotels and their germs freak you out as it is, you can’t fathom being expected to sleep in an establishment as fine as the one he’s describing.

“Make sure you check for bed bugs before you go to sleep.” It breaks your heart to think of him slumbering fitfully while tiny monsters feast away.

“You think I’m going anywhere near that bed?” He sounds offended, but you know better. “I’m sleeping in the fucking bathtub. I wish you were here, though.”

“So, you’d have me suffer through a night in hotel hell just so you’d have someone to keep you company? Narcissist.”

That halting laugh of his, the one you’re completely smitten with, makes an appearance, but his reply comes gently. “No. There’s just something about the thought of seeing something so beautiful surrounded by all this ugliness…I don’t know.”

That, you hadn’t expected.

He glosses over his honesty and begins telling you about the bar he’s playing. About how it used to be a speakeasy. How there are still scattered bullet holes in the walls from a raid. Al Capone once visited, he tells you animatedly, and broke a bartender's nose for speaking without respect…

On and on he prattles, and you let him, paying close attention to his every word. This isn’t your first time being ‘Jaked’ in the middle of the night.

And if you’re being honest, maybe your attentiveness has more to do with the fact that you miss him already. It’s good to hear his voice, that calming, soft rasp. His idiosyncratic tendencies - ‘you know’ as a place filler as he gathers his thoughts, interesting, suppose, it’s all so jake, and it makes you feel safe in the strangest way.

You ask questions in all the right places, not enough to interrupt, but just enough to encourage the stream of thoughts he has decided to share with you.

That is, until he catches on. “Are we whispering because it’s late, or because you’re at my brother’s?”

You pluck at the blanket thrown over you, chagrined. A child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “He was out of sorts with you gone, so I stayed. You know how he gets.”

“I get that way, too.” He points out softly. “Who babies me?”

You shrug, though he can’t see you “A girl in every port?”

“Would you stop with that?” He suddenly sounds sad, and it’s so unlike him you’re shocked into momentary silence.

It stretches on for a while, with you now staring at the wall as the tree outside lends the shadows of its leaves to dance and flutter in the night. And Jake, cooped up in some depressing, filthy room god knows where, breathing in stagnant air and mold spores.

He slices through it first, “Hey, poppins?”

“Hmm?” How easily can make your heart ache and pound without effort. They both can.

“Do you miss me?”

The hopefulness in his query makes you smile. He sounds almost…vulnerable?

“I do, Jake. I always miss you when you go away.”

A discreet hum of satisfaction is his only reply before the quiet returns. Then…

“Why are you at my brother’s, babe? Is this a ‘when the cats away the mice will play’ situation?”

Why is he always so calm and collected? Tipping his hand just enough to stoke the flames of your curiosity. And why is it so sexy?

“Are you the cat?” You ask softly, avoiding his actual question.

He sees your bet and raises the stakes “Are you two the mice?”

Still unwilling to hand over your secrets, you ask a question of your own. “What is this? You both really do get off on the competition of it all, don’t you? Is there a scorecard hidden away somewhere? Because I —“

“Hey,” he soothes, voice comforting like a warm, much loved quilt. “There’s no scorecard. We actually have a scoreboard. It lights up and everything. Cost a shit load.”

He successfully tugs a giggle out of you, plucking the thorn out of your side effortlessly. Seconds later, however, you’re right back where you started.

“Why, then? Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in sibling rivalry crossfire. Like I’m constantly ducking and dodging Kiszka bullets.”

“No such thing.” He’s trying his best to lighten things up. “We Kiszkas are noble and peaceful people.”

He desperately would like to be let off the hook… instead, you keep him dangling on the line. “I’m serious.”

At last, he gives in. “Alright, alright. The thing is, you can’t really blame us. Sometimes it’s unavoidable and that’s just science.”

“Science.” You repeat, unimpressed.

“Yes. Science. Identical twins, such as myself and my lesser half, share nearly indistinguishable brain wave patterns, and —“

“Jesus, do you two carry around some big book of twin factoids everywhere you go?”

Brushing your flippancy aside without comment, he continues on. “So, shared brain waves and 99.9% identical DNA means we view the world around us in much the same way. That’s why you hear those crazy stories about separated twins finding each other later only to discover they’ve been living parallel lives. Essentially, we’re the same person.”

“Is this where I come in?” You ask, trying hard to conceal the fascination hiding behind your nonchalance.

“Possibly.” In your mind's eye, you picture his fingers running over his lips in a gentle pinching motion. An endearing habit of his when he’s feeling contemplative. “But, sometimes I think it has very little to do with all of that. Sometimes I think it’s just you.”

“Me?’

“You’re the lighthouse, poppins…” his voice is soft and thoughtful. “And he and I are the ships. Question is, who will run ashore first?”

“Something happened between Josh and I tonight.” You confess. “And I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you. I just felt like you should know.”

“Doesn’t that make you think?” He questions, backing you into an invisible corner.

“Doesn’t what make me think?”

“The fact that you felt the need to tell me. It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

You’re not sure what to say to that, so you choose the easiest path and say nothing at all.

“Jealousy isn’t a character flaw I struggle with. Never has been.” You listen to the creaking groan of the likely cheap and worn chair he is repositioning himself in. “Territorial? I’ll own that, but almost never with Josh. So you have your fun, love. Get him out of your system. You and I both know which ship your light shines a little brighter for.”

He ends the call with little room for argument on your part. You consider calling him back to tell him he’s wrong (is he wrong?). Instead, you slip out of bed and pad down the hall towards Josh’s room, light and hushed on your feet.

Josh is dreaming of you. Lost in turquoise waters that lull him deeper and deeper, down down down. You’re everywhere. Your voice, echoing and purring with the delicate current. He is tangled in your silken hair. It glows in otherworldly shades of bioluminescent purple and he longs to touch it, but each lock dissolves into blinding glitter the moment he reaches for it. Closer to the floor of your sea he drifts, as your soft moans grow louder, accompanied by the alien mournful song of whales calling to one another, his unconscious world shifts…

Now you lie beneath him, twisted in wrinkled sheets, clinging to him as he rocks into you deeply. Your nails sting as they bite into and drag across his back and he hopes it burns forever. He likes it better here. Bathing in your ocean was bliss, but here he can touch your face. Here he can search your eyes for their secrets and taste your skin. He can hear the desire thrumming in your hummingbird heart. Here you are his.

He always thinks you’re beautiful, but like this, you are celestial. A supernova captured in his arms.

You call his name, but your eyes are cast over his shoulder. He knows without question who has come to dismantle his perfect world.

“Tell him to go.”

You shake your head languidly with a Mona Lisa smile, “I’d like him to stay.”

Squeezing around him just right, you run your fingertip down the bridge of his nose…

…and he startles awake with a curse.

His door isn’t closed, but merely pushed to…still, you lift a loose fist to knock lightly. A faint moan in the dark stops you.

It’s a tranquil sound, one you might expect to enjoy while caught up in slow and easy early morning sex. And while it isn’t overtly obscene, it steals the air from your lungs all the same.

He’s sleeping, your eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to know that, but he breathes another sigh into the air, and then…your name.

Can a sound be poetic? Can inflection be art? Because that is the only way to describe the way your name sounds on his tongue.

He’s dreaming…and whatever world he has faded into holds some version of you inside of it as well. What is going on inside that brilliant, beautiful mind of yours, Joshua?

This is wrong. You should go back to bed and pretend this never happened…but the angel on your shoulder has taken the night off, leaving the shameless devil in charge, plotting nefariously.

A harsh hiss of “Fuck!” bites out of him, startling you. He sounds frustrated and furious. He is awake, and very unhappy about it.

Standing still as a statue, you wonder ridiculously if he can hear the wild beat of your heart.

Knock now, you think. Pretend you’ve just arrived at his door. For the second time, you raise your hand to knock, and for the second time, you stop in your tracks when you see it.

His hand slips beneath the sheets as a shutter of pleasure ripples out of his chest. It’s no more than a strangled gasp, but your body explodes into heated pins and needles.

The drag of his fist against the linens keeps time with the airy moans he is panting into the night. It’s fucking intoxicating and you so badly want to go to him.

Instead, you back slowly away from the crack into the door, retreating further back in the hall. You’ll slink back to bed and it’ll be like this never even happened —

A floorboard creaks. An inanimate object groaning to tattle tale and shine a spotlight on your presence.

He stops instantly as you clamp your eyes shut tightly for a split second…if I can’t see you, you can’t see me mentality.

And while you pray with your whole soul to disappear like smoke in the air, he rises, tucks himself back into his sweats, and confidently closes the space between the two of you.

Before you can process, his fingers lace around your wrist and pull you into the room. Your body is pressed against the door, his breath warm on your neck as he reaches behind you to twist the lock.

A single finger traces along your cheek before tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Were you watching me?”

“I…” You stammer, guilty as sin. “I was just getting ready to knock and…”

His hand slides between your legs to tease his fingers over soaked cotton. “Oh,” he tilts his head, smug and pleased with his discovery. “Someone was enjoying the show. My sweet little thing has ruined her pretty panties.”

He finds your clit and presses against it, remaining still, taunting you with the delicious pressure of his touch. “Do you like to watch?”

You nod, the shame of being caught slowly seeping from your veins.

“Yeah?” He slips into your panties from the side and teases two fingers inside you, curling upward until your thighs are shaking. “You wanna watch me cum?”

A whine of desire trembles out of you, telling him all he needs to know.

His fucks his fingers into you just a hint faster. Building you up nice and easy, creating a heavenly push and pull that you never want to end. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’m far too in love with this soft little cunt of yours right now. Pink as cotton candy and just as sweet.”

Your hands are fisted into the shoulders of his worn out t shirt, steadying yourself as your hips rock to meet him.

“Jake called.” The words leave you as barely a whisper.

“Did he?” There is a conversational edge to his cadence. As though you might be discussing the weather while you clench and drip into the palm of his hand. “Missing you already?”

“I don’t know, he— oh, fuck…right there.”

“Right there?” You catch a glimpse of the cocky smirk playing over his lips in the dark. “I'll touch you right there, sweet girl. I’ll take care of you. Just relax and let me.”

Your back arches away from the door to bring your body nearer to his. You want him pressed against you, skin to skin. You want to melt into him and live there forever, surrounded by his warm light.

“You look so fucking pretty in this light.” The moon is filtering in through the window, cool and blue. You think of winter, and he mirrors your thoughts. “Like a snow angel.”

Your hand delves beneath his waistband of his tattered sweats. A chill races up his spine when you wrap your soft hand around him. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take what you want…good girl.”

You coil and quiver around his fingers, giving yourself away.

“You like that?” He nips his perfect teeth into your bottom lip. “You want to be my good girl? A perfect princess to make my cock hard and my heart ache?’

Tightening your grip, you stroke him faster, earning a groan, long and low, deep within his chest as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge with just his hand.

“Josh, please,” the air feels charged, the way it does just before a vicious summer storm unleashes. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he rocks into your hand a little faster to catch up with you. ‘Not until I have what’s mine. Let go for me. Show me how beautiful you look when you cum.”

With another practiced twist of his hand, he drags you under, free hand covering your mouth to quiet your cries, though he wishes he could let you scream until you were hoarse and spent.

He chases after you, burying his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his own cries as he spills over your hand, tiny rivers of warmth that tickle your skin until your eyes flutter closed to savor the feeling.

It’s peaceful for a stretch, but when the words come, you don’t swallow them down like maybe you should. You speak them into existence like maybe you shouldn’t.

“He says you’re in love with me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek, light as the softest feather. “I am.”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @paleshadow-ofadragon @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordierama @calumspretty

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daydreamgoddess14 · 3 months ago

Text

The Escape Artist - Chapter 8

Thank youuuuuu for all the love on the last chapter!

What a rollercoaster that was! And now, we're racing towards the ending - but it's not quite over yet, of course. There's still plenty to resolve!

Masterlist

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7

Tag list: @moonmaiden1996 @theskytraveler @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

He hadn’t been asleep.

Of course, at that point he couldn’t exactly let Ella know that.

He’d stirred at the sound of Clover’s excited little voice in the room but they’d all been so distracted with Lamb taking her to the vending machine that they hadn’t noticed him squinting at the fluorescent lights.

He’d closed his eyes against the glare of them but Ella clearly hadn’t realised and once she’d started talking, he couldn’t admit that he was awake.

She’d have bolted from the room and never returned.

So he’d stayed quiet and stayed still until Clover and Lamb returned with armfuls of sweets and chocolate.

Clover had been over the moon to see him awake, Ella had to stop her from scrambling up onto the bed. She bounced happily on the balls of her feet as close to him as she could get, and then had left him with strict instructions not to eat the chocolate she’d just brought.

Ella had stood away from him after her confession, as if she’d scared herself.

Since then he’d been awake for each - sometimes twice daily - visit. And now he wasn’t sure how to admit that he’d heard everything she’d said.

He was looking forward to this visit more so than the others.

He was exhausted but it had been worth it. The reward would be worth it.

She’d told him on her way out the previous night that she wouldn’t be there until the following evening. Lamb needed her at the office so she’d enlisted Shirley to collect Clover from school so she could squeeze in an hour to visit him.

Clover was less than impressed at being left behind.

Being confined to bed for nearly a week was giving him cabin fever, but his test results had been sketchy so the nurses had barely let him move. The doctor had finally given him the ok to get up and out of bed, so he’d spent all day walking unsteadily to and from the bathroom so he could surprise Ella.

His door had been left ajar by the nurses so he heard her before he saw her. Chatting away to the staff at the desk as if she hadn’t had the week from hell.

“Are you decent?” She asked as she approached the door. Seeing him standing for the first time in nearly a week, she dropped the bag of snacks and books and rushed to his side. “Shit, you’re up. Are you ok? Are you supposed to be standing up?” She demanded sternly. She slipped an arm around his waist and tried to guide him carefully back to the bed.

“I’m fine, just went to the loo.”

“But you’re not supposed to be out of bed?!”

“Doctor said it’s fine.” She looked sceptical. “Promise I’m not lying.”

“Which is exactly what a liar would say,” she muttered, unsurely removing herself from his side.

He moved slowly back to the bed.

“You scared me, are you sure you’re ok to be up?”

“Definitely sure, I am fully topped up with blood and all of my tests are coming back ok, at last.”

She dropped into the visitor chair with a heavy sigh. He eyed her closely, she looked much better than the first day she’d visited with Clover.

Gaunt with dark circles under her eyes, she’d looked as bad as he’d felt.

“Are you sleeping?” He asked worriedly.

“Hmm, so so. I get a couple of hours.”

“Nightmares?” She nodded. “What about?”

“All sorts. What if you hadn’t gotten to Clover in time, what if I hadn’t gotten to you -”

“You did. It all worked out.”

“You’re still in a hospital bed, River.” She rolled her eyes.

“Only for another couple of days.”

“That’s not the point, you could have died. Fucking reckless idiot.” He could see she was still too angry with herself to accept his reasoning so he changed the subject.

“No Clover?”

“She’s got gymnastics club at school. Shirl’s bringing her here in a bit.”

Happy he’d still see her later, he took the opportunity to talk about her. She’d made sure Ella brought her every time so far, so they hadn’t had a chance to talk alone about how the events had affected her.

“How'd she take the news?”

Ella shrugged. She kicked off her trainers and leaned back in the visitor chair, putting her feet up on the bed.

“She says she's OK, she was more worried about you to be honest. JK is still with her at school, they both didn’t seem to want to give that up too quickly. Which suits, because we still have Flyte’s boys outside the house.”

“Has she said whether he hurt her?”

“Apparently not. He only took her there to figure out what to do next, he didn’t have much of a plan. She told me he kept going on about how he gave me - gave us - everything we ever wanted. Money, jewellery, whatever… she said -” Ella paused, her eyes fixed on the sheets of the bed. “She said that she told him ‘mummy doesn’t care about that, she just wants you not to hurt her’.” She sniffed and shook her head. “She shouldn’t know stuff like that, River.” she said weakly, her eyes filled with tears.

“She’s right though.”

“I’m going to get her set up with a therapist. The school recommended someone and they can fit her in next week.”

“That’ll be good for her. And you?”

“Me? Therapy? I don’t do talking about stuff,” she smiled. “Took me six months to talk to you.” She nudged his leg with her toe.

“True. Who painted those?” Ella’s toes were painted sloppily in pink glitter polish.

“Who do you think? I can get her to do yours as well if you’re interested? She’d love that.”

“Nah, not if she’s gonna do a shit job like that,” he teased. Ella feigned outrage.

“Don’t be rude about my kid, judgy.” She reached for the grapes on the table and launched one at him which he surprisingly caught in his mouth. They both stared open mouthed in shock.

“Did you see that?!” He grinned. “I would never be rude about Clo. Pretty sure she’s the only kid I like.” “She’s the only kid you’ve ever met,” Ella pointed out, throwing another grape which missed.

“She’s got us all wrapped around her little finger.” He admitted. “What’d Lamb need you for anyway?”

“You will never, ever guess.” She looked worried. “Taverner wanted to see me.”

“She knows?”

“We don’t think so, not yet anyway.” She took her feet from the bed and leaned forward to put her elbows up instead so she could recount the visit in full.

Diana Taverner looked wildly out of place in Slough House. Perched on a rickety chair in the kitchen while Ho stared at her with a dropped jaw.

“Close your mouth. You look like a fish.” He immediately did as he was told, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed his tongue back into his mouth. She tapped perfectly manicured nails against her bag. “Where is he?” She asked, pinning her gaze onto Ella.

“Who?”

“Your husband, of course?” Across the kitchen, Catherine dropped the teaspoon loudly into the cleanest mug she could find.

“I… I don’t know?”

“Are you sure about that? Because we’ve lost track of him and -”

“Lost track of him? Look, I don’t know where he is. He managed to get bail and they released him over the weekend. My solicitor didn’t even know.”

“He hasn’t come to find you? Or the girl?”

“You’d know, surely? With Flyte’s dogs parked outside the safe house that you authorised reporting back to you?”

“With shared duties,” she looked suspiciously at Louisa and Lamb, “I don’t have all of the information.”

“I’ve offered it, Tav.” She baulked at the nickname Lamb used. “You said you didn’t have the resource or the inclination to fully staff Cole’s little family drama.”

“If I find out something has happened -”

“You’ll what? Go on, I’m sure she’d love to know the truth?” He gestured at Ella who looked bemused.

“What truth? What the fuck is going on?”

“I really don’t have time for this,” Taverner stood abruptly.

“Don’t even think about leaving -” Ella crossed to block the door.

“Cole, please do remember who you’re speaking to.” The older woman demanded.

Ella stood her ground.

“I might have known you’d be involved, why else would you be here? I’ve had a lot on my plate recently - as you can imagine - so I hadn’t really thought about how Lamb got you on board with helping me. But there’ve been a few things here and there which just don’t add up.” Ella paced in front of Taverner while Lamb watched from the doorway. “A safe house? Very kind, even in the most extreme circumstances. Dogs posted outside the house all night? Blimey… I was honoured. Whatever did I do to deserve such special treatment?”

“You tell me,” Taverner rolled her eyes.

“I led you to him.” Ella sighed. “Didn’t I? And you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t slip away again. Except now, you’ve lost him.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Ten years.”

“Christ, I’m surprised he didn’t marry you the day you turned eighteen.”

“So was I. He waited til he’d knocked me up instead.”

“I suppose he thought you getting a job at the Park would be a boon for him?”

“That was his thinking, yes. I’m guessing you were thinking the same thing?”

“Background checks come in handy, occasionally. When we found out your link to him, we prioritised your training to get you into the Park sooner. Where we could keep an eye on him.”

“Why not move on him earlier?”

“Some of his work was actually useful to us. Then he began giving us rather more trouble, so it was time to let you think his downfall was imminent.”

“I take it you also wanted him back out of prison pretty quickly?”

“Oh, of course. I only wanted to reign him in a little. A shame he couldn’t control his temper. Then I thought we’d help him out this time by ensuring he was bailed nice and quickly.” She shook her head, the disappointment written all over her face. “But he’s cleared off. No activity on his bank accounts or car… And yet you claim to know nothing?”

“Why send me here?”

“To keep you around until I needed you again. Which I do now, to find him.”

“So keep fucking looking, because I don’t know where he is.” Ella spat bitterly.

“Where’s Cartwright?” She asked curiously. Ella was amazed she didn’t already know. She realised in that moment just how close Lamb kept his cards to his chest. Nothing got out unless he wanted it to.

“Flu. Coughing up a lung in his flat, don’t want him infecting us.” Taverner frowned slightly, debating whether to push Lamb further, catch him in a lie.

“You should get the vaccine,” she said dryly. “It’s included in the benefits package.”

“Benefit my arse. Shouldn’t you be leaving now?” And with cavalier dismissal, Lamb successfully kicked Diana Taverner out of Slough House.

“She knows.” River declared once Ella had finished.

“Nah, she’d have said something?”

“Would she? Or would she wait until it was useful?” Ella slumped back in the chair.

“Shit. What am I gonna do?”

“Wait it out. See what happens.” He advised as thunderous footsteps pounded in the corridor outside.

“You’re sitting up!” Clover squealed happily.

“I’ve been out of bed,” he told her proudly. Her eyes widened.

“No? Really? Can you get out soon?”

“Soon, I hope.” Before Ella could stop her, Clover had climbed onto the other end of the bed, pushed River’s legs out of the way and sat down cross legged in front of him.

“Will you play scrabble with me?” She asked, pulling the small travel game out of her backpack before pushing the bag over to Ella. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as she listened to their game, listened as Clover and Shirley accused River of cheating followed by his strenuous denials.

He watched her sleep, conscious that Shirley was also there.

“Got my eye on you,” she told him quietly.

“I know, I know.” He tore his eyes from Ella and turned to apologise to Shirley who grinned.

“Just pulling your pisser. You’re alright, I suppose.”

“Thanks Shirl.”

“Fuck her up though and I’ll fuck you up.” She warned, chancing a glance at Clover who was engrossed in making a word from her pile of letters. “Because it’s not just Ella.”

“No, it’s not.” He looked at the little girl, accepting the weight of Shirley’s words.

“I’ve had a few too many temporary stepdads, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” He thought of his mother’s inconsistent role in his life, knowing Shirley was right. “Anyway,” she reached out and kicked Ella’s foot. “Time for us to go, sleeping beauty. Fuck only knows how you’re managing to sleep in that chair but you can’t sleep in your own sodding bed.”

“Yep, ok.” She muttered, her voice thick with sleep. She stretched her arms up, yawning widely. “C’mon Clo, say bye to River.” She toed her trainers back on without undoing the laces and moved around the room to gather up the stuff Clover had strewn all over the place.

“Who’s on the rota tomorrow?” He asked.

“Catherine’s coming tomorrow. She’s bringing you some more clothes,” Shirley wrinkled her nose, “and Louisa as well.”

“And then hopefully I’ll be allowed out.”

“We’re coming too!” Clover grinned.

“Are we?” Ella asked.

“Yeah, you’re the one who said it’s not the same when you don’t see -”

“Ok, time to go,” Ella blushed, swiftly interrupting Clover. “See you tomorrow.” She gave him a small wave and he watched them all hustle from the room, Shirley turning back to him to mime gagging in disgust. He gave her the finger and looked down at the scrabble board Clover had left behind.

He was sick of being treated like an invalid. It had been nearly two months since the night at the storage unit.

Eddie’s body still hadn’t been given up by the Thames, though with Taverner’s calls to Lamb becoming a regular occurrence, it seemed she’d long given up on him turning up alive.

She hadn’t outright stated that she believed him to be dead, but her demand for answers was growing.

He finished the file he’d been working on and dumped it in the top of the nearest box before standing to get the roll of tape from Ella’s desk.

She snatched it from his reach.

“Ella,”

“River,” she whinged.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You bloody do. Step away from the box,” she ordered. “Please.” She brushed past him and folded the top of the box over and taped it up.

“I’m capable of taping up a box and moving it?”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“You kinda did, with the whole doing it for me, thing?” He looked away as the tightly held box pulled the neckline of her top down.

“Stop whinging. If you want to do something, make a brew.” She told him, taking the box through to the bulging archive room.

“I’ve been given the all clear, picture of health,” he complained, hunting for more teabags.

“So you tell me.”

“And it’s healing really well,” he told her, petulantly lifting up the edge of his t-shirt to show her the pink, puckered scar.

“So I see,” she peered at it sympathetically. “Right, that’s me done. Time for parents evening.” She pulled a face as she packed her things.

“What about the tea?”

“Give it to Shirl, I only got you to make it to keep you busy for a minute.”

“Oh great, thanks. Like I’m a bloody irritating child?”

“More like a puppy. You and Eugene - interchangeable at this point.” She grinned. “Ugh, this is going to be painful,” she moaned, thinking back to parents' evening.

“It’s hardly going to be bad news, is it?”

“No, but I hate all the judgey grown ups. I might as well waltz in there with a neon sign over my head. Everyone come look at the terrible mother, the worst woman who ever lived…” She called across the hallway to Shirley and Louisa who were huddled around Shirley’s computer. “See you guys tomorrow?”

“Bye El,” Louisa waved. Shirley didn’t look away from the screen.

River watched as Ella headed towards the stairs.

He hesitated before gathering his courage.

“Hey, wait,” he called out, taking a few strides towards her.

“What’s up?”

“I just…” He paused, nerves kicking in. “Don’t listen to them, ok? Clo is an amazing kid because of you. You’re a fucking brilliant mum. You and Clo are perfect. In one ear, and out the other - don’t listen to a word they say.” Ella looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I… I’m not -”

“Just say thank you, River.”

“Thank you, River. Really, thank you.” She smiled shyly, still taken aback by his words.

“Have you got a minute longer?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna be late. I really have to go. Talk tomorrow?”

River’s heart sank a little as he saw her anticipation to leave, to not be the parent who shows up late.

“Yeah, sure. Talk tomorrow.” She grinned and hurried down the stairs. He turned back to the office to see Shirley and Louisa staring at him. “What?” he asked coolly, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

“Oh my god, were you finally going to say something?” Louisa asked.

“No, I wasn’t going to say anything.” He said, nonchalantly.

“You were going to ask her out, weren’t you?!” Shirley said gleefully.

River’s face flushed, he knew there was no point in denying it.

“I… yeah, I was thinking about it. But it’s no big deal, seriously.”

“As if she’s going to turn you down, especially after going on about what a great mum she is.” Louisa nudged Shirley.

River looked up, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

“What makes you so sure about that?”

“Girls talk.” Louisa shrugged.

River’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, you’ve been talking about me?” He didn’t miss Shirley’s eyeroll.

“Alright, Romeo, relax. You did get shot saving her daughter, maybe it’ll just be a gratitude shag.” Shirley grinned, clearly enjoying teasing him.

River frowned at the nickname.

“Nothing is going on, I’m not sure it ever will.” He told them firmly, returning to his desk.

They followed him.

“Please,” Louisa scoffed, “What are you waiting for?”

“She’s been through so much, how do I know it’s the right time?”

“Maybe there is no perfect time, dickhead. She’s a grown woman, she knows her own mind.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Louisa added.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

“One step at a time.”

“And don’t wait forever.”

“And don’t tell Ho.”

“Or Lamb.”

“Especially Lamb, he’d kill you with his bare hands.”

He clock watched till the end of the day, preoccupied with everything Shirley and Louisa had said.

Lost in thought, he found himself standing on Ella’s doorstep, a bag of takeout in hand.

He felt momentarily bewildered by how he’d even gotten there.

As if he’d left work on autopilot and wound up at his usual destination.

He knocked and heard Clover shouting in response that it was for her.

He chuckled, hearing her excited voice and wondered how him turning up had already been anticipated.

She flung open the door with a beaming smile.

“Oh. It’s you!”

“Not who you expected?”

“I’m waiting for Lucy,” she grinned, “I’ve got a sleepover!”

“Ahh, nice! You won’t want this then, I brought you guys some food?”

“Well I’m making pizza with Lucy,” she peeked at the bag, “unless it’s something good?”

“No, no. You’re having pizza,” he teased, holding the bag out of reach. She stuck her tongue out.

“Muuuum! River’s here.” As Clover called out for Ella, River felt a flutter of nerves.

“Don’t be daft, River’s not coming over tonight -, oh. What’re you doing here?”

River smiled at Ella’s surprise. Her words of protest caught in her throat.

“Surprise,” he said with a half-smile, holding up the bag of takeout. “I brought food.”

“That's… thank you. That’s great. Clo’s just on her way out, though?”

He nodded, glancing at Clover who still hovered nearby.

“Yeah, I heard. Sleepover, right?”

“Her first one,” Ella grimaced.

“You don’t sound thrilled?” He smiled sympathetically.

“Mum’s being a baby.” Clover filled in.

“That’s understandable, it’ll be weird without you.” He looked at Ella, his gaze lingering on her a bit longer than necessary.

“S’pose so.” The girl shrugged. “She’s got Gene though, hasn’t she?” She took the puppy’s face in her hands and squished it. “Genie’s gonna look after mum,” she told the dog.

River felt someone approach from behind, he realised he was blocking the doorway and turned to see who it was.

Lucy had arrived, Clover left Eugene excitedly yapping and the two girls shrieks of excitement jumbled together with the dog’s as they hugged.

River stepped aside, away from the doorway, to let Clover usher Lucy inside.

“Get your stuff then, Clo.” Ella told her daughter.

“Already got it!” Clover said eagerly, grabbing her backpack from the sofa in one hand, and Lucy’s hand with the other.

“Wow, you’re keen,” Ella smiled apologetically at Lucy’s dad. “Something tells me you’re in for a long night.” She leaned down to hug Clover. “Call me if you need me,” she told her, trying to put on a brave face.

“I will,” Clover rolled her eyes. “But don’t worry, mum, I’ll be fine!” She promised, peeling herself away.

Ella smiled, trying not to show her nerves.

“I know you will. Have fun, ok? You deserve it.” Clover turned back quickly and gave Ella a fiercely tight hug.

“Bye mum,” she whispered with a final squeeze. Bounding out of the door with Lucy, she only turned back again to wave.

As River pushed the door closed, shutting out the sounds of the girls’ laughter, Ella sagged visibly.

“Parents’ evening went ok then?” He asked.

“We bumped into Lucy’s parents and the girls were relentless in asking to stay over.” She explained.

“She’ll be ok, you know?” He said softly, observing her sad smile.

“Yeah… I know,” Ella’s voice cracked slightly. “It’s just… she’s growing up so fast. One day, she’s not going to need me anymore.”

“She'll always need you,” he assured her.

"You really think so?" Ella looked at him with a hint of hope in her eyes, as if she desperately needed to believe his words.

"I do," he said sincerely. "But you're allowed to have a life as well. You hungry?”

"I suppose you're right," she conceded, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "And yes, please, I'm starving.”

As they ate and gossiped, River noticed a change in Ella. Her shoulders gradually untensed, and her laughter became more genuine. Her worry over Clover seemed to fade into the background - possibly for the first time ever.

"So, tell me about parents' evening?" He asked.

"Ahh I'm so proud! They said she's doing so well - despite everything. They do want to know how long JK will be sitting in class, though. Apparently he helps one of the reading groups, the kids love him.”

“Can you imagine if they knew who he really was?”

“I'm pretty sure they'd employ him to take out a few of the more annoying parents. Betsy's dad is a fucking knob, JK, teach him a lesson.” She laughed. “Anyway, I'm going to get this stuff cleaned up, do you want a beer?" She asked River.

He glanced at the empty food containers scattered around them and nodded. "Sure, I'll take a beer. Thanks." He started to help clean up the mess on the coffee table. "What are your plans for your night of freedom, then?" He asked.

"Hmm, not much." Ella carried the empty containers to the kitchen, returning a moment later with two cold beers in hand. "Maybe watch some mindless TV, eat ice cream, and try not to think too much.”

"Want some company?" he asked boldly. From his bed, Eugene managed to look offended.

Ella paused, looking surprised by his offer. A mix of emotions played across her face - surprise, uncertainty, and dare he hope, a hint of anticipation?

"You… you want to stay a bit?" she asked tentatively, her voice wavering slightly.

"Can't leave you here all by yourself, can I?”

Ella's lips curved into a small smile.

"No, I guess not," she replied, a touch of playfulness in her voice. "I suppose having company wouldn't be so bad. Gene’s not exactly chatty.”

"So bad?" he mimicked with a chuckle. "It wasn't too long ago where you'd barely give me the time of day. Forty words in one day, that's the most I heard you say," he teased

"Oh, shush," she retorted, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "I did not give you the silent treatment that often!”

"You did. Hiding away from everyone."

"I was scared, I didn't want you all involved in my mess. I couldn't put you in danger."

"Haven't you heard? We laugh in the face of danger. Well, Shirley does, the rest of us fuck off to the pub." He joked.

Ella rolled her eyes, trying to maintain her feigned indignation, but a small laugh escaped her lips.

"Oh, well, I guess I should have known better than to underestimate your courage when there's gin involved," she teased.

"Ahh I was only brave for Clo, really," he smiled. "And you.”

Ella's eyes softened at his words.

"I know," she said softly. "And I'm grateful. For both me and Clover.”

He leaned toward her, noting how her tongue nervously darted out and across her lower lip.

River's eyes followed the path of her tongue as it moved, his heart rate quickening at the sight. He leaned closer to her, drawn in by some invisible force that seemed to pull them together.

River's touch was gentle but firm as he cupped her face.

His fingers threaded through her hair, sending a shiver down her spine.

He pushed a few wayward strands out of her face, his eyes roaming over her face, drinking in every detail.

River's lips brushed against hers tentatively at first, as if testing the waters. But as her eyes fluttered shut, a wave of desire washed over him, and he moved closer, deepening the kiss.

River sensed her initial hesitation, but he encouraged her closer to him, his lips moving against hers with growing fervour. He could feel her starting to respond, her body melting against his.

His hands moved from her face to her waist, and pulled her to straddle his lap, her knees pushing into the sofa cushions either side of him.

As she settled onto his lap, River's hands moved up from her waist, tracing the line of her spine, savouring the feeling of her body pressed against his.

She shivered against him as his fingertips traced down her back.

"River," she sighed against his mouth.

The sound of his name on her lips sent goosebumps down his spine, his mind briefly clouded by the longing in her voice. His hands trailing lower down her back, their bodies almost completely flush.

Involuntarily, Ella's hips rolled against him, chasing more pressure, more of his touch.

"Ella," he murmured, his voice ragged with growing need. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he murmured against her collarbone.

His words were a stark contrast to the growing tension between them. His lips moved down her throat, tasting her skin, while his hands continued to explore the curves of her body.

"I want this," he whispered, his voice half-muffled against her skin. "But I don't want to pressure you into anything.”

"I'm not sure I'm any good at this," she sighed, a note of worry in her voice.

River paused, pulling back from her, he could see the doubt in her eyes.

His fingers moved to caress her cheek tenderly. Her eyes were darker than he'd seen them before, blown with lust. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, she looked beautiful.

It angered him that Eddie hadn't seen Ella the way he did. That he'd filled her mind with so much doubt and fear.

“It's embarrassing, River, I should know my own body, my own mind, but I feel like a stranger to myself.”

"You're overthinking it. El, that part of your life is over," he said, his fingers trailing up her thigh, tracing lazy patterns on her legs. “You don't have to carry the weight of anyone's expectations anymore.”

River's words hung in the air, each syllable striking a chord in her heart. He seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear.

His touch was gentle but firm, as if he was trying to reassure her not just with his words but with his presence.

"No expectations," he repeated, his fingers still tracing slow, soothing patterns on her leg. "Just you and me. If that’s what you want?”

She reached for him first, putting her fears to one side. He wanted her to feel worshipped, he wanted her to know how much he wanted her, but more than anything else, he wanted her to trust him.

The look in her eyes, the touch of her fingers on his skin – it all told him that she wanted this just as much as he did.

He responded to her eagerness, pulling her closer again, his hands roaming over her body with a mix of tenderness and fervour. Lust washed over him, drowning out all rational thought.

His hand trailed up Ella’s ribs to cup her breast over her thin top, she leaned into his hand and jerked against him.

River groaned at her reaction, his hand gripping her breast more firmly. Her movements, the way she rocked against him, were driving him crazy.

His other hand moved to her hip, his fingers digging into her skin as he guided her movements, increasing the friction between them. He wanted her closer, needed to feel her skin against his.

"Please, River," she whined as he dragged the pad of his thumb over her pebbled nipple.

The sound of her plea made him tremble, awakening a primal sense of need within him. His touch grew bolder, his fingers teasing her through the thin material of her top.

"Please, what?" he asked, his voice a low growl. His eyes were darkened with desire as he looked up at her, enjoying watching her squirm from his touch.

"I need you, I need you to show me -" her hips bucked against his as she ground down on his hard cock.

River's grip on her hip tightened as she pushed against him, his lips curving into a smirk at her needy tone.

"I'll show you everything," he murmured, his voice deep. He pushed the edge of her top up, exposing more of her skin. His hands roamed over her flesh, exploring every contour.

River wasted no time, his lips eagerly seeking out the newly exposed skin on her chest and neck, trailing a path of kisses down her collarbone, his hands splayed on the expanse of her back, pulling her close against him, the feeling of her bare skin against him sending a thrill through his entire body.

He took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue laved her through the lace of her bra, the fabric providing a maddening friction against her sensitive skin. She arched her back, pressing against him, her breaths coming in needy gasps as desire rippled through her body.

His hands moved to her hips, holding her in place as his mouth continued its assault on her breasts, his teeth grazing the lace and the skin beneath.

His hands kneaded into her ass, holding her tightly to him as she threw her head back, her own hands raking through his hair. He lifted her without warning and twisted them both. As River laid her down on the sofa, she whimpered at the absence of his body against hers. She reached out, pulling him down, needing the contact.

"Fuck, Ella, I need to show you how much I want you.”

His words sent a flush of heat through her, her hands tracing the planes of his back as she looked up at him. "God," she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “I need you, River.”

Her words, so earnest and vulnerable, sent a primal rush of desire through him. He leaned closer, his body pressing against hers, his hands trailing over her skin, as he whispered, "You have me. I'm right here."

His mouth found her neck, his lips seeking the sensitive skin beneath her ear as he murmured against her flesh, "I'm going to show you just how wanted you are.”

She pushed his top up and over his head and he settled between her thighs, his body covering hers. Her hands trailed up his back and around to his stomach. Her fingertips lightly brushed over his sensitive scar.

“We need to be careful,” she murmured, her eyebrows pinching together with worry.

With her body beneath his, he paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, her eyes dark with desire, her skin faintly flushed. His fingers traced the curves of her hips, drawing lazy patterns on her skin.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he told her, his hand dipped beneath the waistband of her leggings, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her hip before trailing lower, the thin material doing little to diminish the heat from her core.

He could feel her shiver beneath his touch, his lips sought out the sensitive skin of her neck, sucking gently at her pulse point.

As her hips lifted to meet his hand, River felt his touch growing more urgent. He nipped at her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin, as his fingers continued their slow descent down.

As his fingers reached the edge of her underwear, River paused, his gaze moving to meet hers, seeking permission to go further.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a raspy whisper.

She nodded, and then, as if needing him to hear the words added, "Yes. River, god please -”

Her nod and the sound of her broken plea sent a shot of heat through him, his restraint faltering.

His fingertips tracing the sensitive skin at the edge of her underwear. River's heart clenched as she whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut in response to his touch. His hand stopped, his fingers still resting against the edge of her underwear, as he softly requested,

"Look at me."

His voice, though gentle, held an underlying urgency, as he wanted – needed – to see her reaction, to watch her fall apart for him.

River's breath caught in his chest, his own heart stuttering at the sight of her as his fingers found her soaking wet - for him. The low moan that escaped her lips, it was like nothing he'd ever heard before.

He continued to push two long fingers into her, his gaze never leaving her face, wanting to memorise every little reaction, every expression of pleasure. He pumped his fingers into her, stretching her open for him. His thumb found the hooded pearl of her clit and circled it, making her gasp.

“River -” she begged.

The sound of his name, so raw and needy on her lips, urged him on, his fingers curled to brush against her g-spot with every stroke.

He leaned down, his body pressing against hers, his lips skimming her ear. "I'll show you," he murmured against her skin, his voice a rough, gravelly promise. "I'll show you how it's supposed to be.”

River's mouth covered hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure as his tongue tangled with hers.

He worked her through her orgasm, his touch both tender and demanding, as he continued to kiss her, his lips and tongue moving down her neck and collarbone, tasting her skin as she writhed beneath him.

"Oh god," she breathed shakily, coming down from the high.

River smiled against her skin, feeling the tremors racking her body, peppering soft kisses along her jawline and collarbone as he whispered, "I’m going to need to see you fall apart like that again.”

He looked down at her, watching as she slowly regained her composure, taking in the flush of her skin and the sparkle in her eyes.

"More?" she requested with a sly grin, pulling him back down on top of her. she rolled her hips, feeling his hard cock constrained through his jeans. The feeling of her body underneath his, her grin teasing him almost mercilessly, fueled the aching need that coursed through him.

"More," he echoed, with a ragged laugh.

#river cartwright #slow horses #jack lowden #slowhorsesfanfiction #river cartwright fanfic #rivercartwright/ofc #the escape artist #river cartwright / original female character #river cartwright x oc #river cartwright smut

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elavoria · 3 months ago

Text

OC in Fifteen

Tagged by @dirty-bosmer and @sylvienerevarine to share 15 lines or less more of dialogue that showcases my OC’s personality. This was fun, thank you! <3 I tag @nostalgic-breton-girl, @sheirukitriesfandom, and @1helios1~

I couldn’t choose between Isanna and Amaryllia, so I’ve put them both under the cut… with a bonus set for Regill, too, because I couldn’t resist—he may not be an OC, but the lines I’ve given him are much more suited to this sort of thing.

I may have gotten a little carried away, aha…

Isanna

1. “I would love to stay here with you,” she said, “but I must prepare for the day, otherwise Irabeth and Anevia are going to start wondering if you murdered me in my sleep.”

2. “I am an inquisitor,” she declared, “not a cleric or a paladin. If the goddess sees fit to take away my divine magic, you’ll be among the first to know.”

3. “You are aware, my dear count, that killing people on behalf of the goddess of mercy is part of my job description?” She paused to let that sink in, then explained, “A swift death at the end of a sharp blade is the only mercy some deserve. That is especially true here in the Worldwound.”

4. “Regill,” Isanna interrupted as she made her way to the table. She leaned heavily against the back of her chair, wincing from the effort, before staring a little too hard, a little too wide-eyed at Anevia. “Bring him here.”

5. “Bleeding again,” she murmured, frowning at the scarlet drops. “That won’t do.”

6. She shook her head and shifted her hand back to his face before answering, “I look at you, and I see the iron will born of your discipline, the depths of your wisdom and the sharpness of your wit in your eyes, the stern and stately set of your features, the lines and shadows that mark your years and experience…” She stared deeply into his eyes, then finished just above a whisper, “And I don’t want to lose you.”

7. “In the event I am… incapacitated in such a way, I want you to lead the crusade in my stead. I understand the army might be averse to following the person who killed their former commander, which is why I wrote my last wishes very explicitly, to clarify the situation and dispel their doubts, and legitimize your position as my successor. That document is what you will find in the cache, should you need it.”

8. “I would love to show you my Magnimar,” she said warmly. “And there’s so much to see there. It isn’t called the City of Monuments for nothing, after all. I—” She broke off with a blush as her thoughts of traveling for pleasure alone with the paralictor tumbled over themselves and dropped her gaze to her lap. “I’d be happy to go anywhere with you,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes again with a small, somewhat apologetic smile. “I’m even glad to be here with you. I’m, ah… I’m just glad you’re here.”

9. “I’ve tasted enough,” she said indignantly, then took another sip and felt it go to straight to her head. “I’ve tasted wine from all over Avistan in my travels.”

10. “You honor me,” she said with a gracious dip of her head. “As for your assessment…” He raised an eyebrow, and her smile turned mischievous. “Your test administration skills leave something to be desired. However, the test did accomplish your objective, and furthermore, it was a very amusing diversion, so I believe that can be overlooked.”

11. “Sarenrae’s patience isn’t infinite,” she said with careful deliberation, “and neither is mine.”

12. “Is this what you wanted from me, Dawnflower?” she whispered, gripping the carved symbol of her goddess a little too tightly. “Did you know my soul was corrupted when you sent me to Kenabres?” The silence was deafening, but she continued anyway. “Should I have heeded Iomedae’s words and purged the corruption from my soul?” She sighed and shook her head at the thought. “I can serve you and Golarion better with this power. I have made it my own, forged it into something good and righteous. And even if I hadn’t, you yourself once worked alongside the powers of evil in service to good.”

13. “This power I have,” she explained, letting go of one of his hands to rest it where her wound appeared. “If taken further, it… who knows what it might be able to do? It should be able to rival even the gods.” The passion in her eyes turned to a desperate fervor, and he stared back at her uncertainly. “I’ll find a way to keep you alive. I promise you.” She moved her hand to his face and twined her fingers through his hair, holding him as if he might slip through her fingers at any moment. “Regill… I love you more than anything in this world. I would do anything for you—and I will.”

14. “I promise,” she muttered aloud, fingers clutching weakly at the ground for something to hold on to. Finding nothing, her hands closed into fists and she trembled helplessly. “I promise…”

15. “Everything is going to change,” she said, “no matter what we do.” They sat with the thought in silence, and she added, “I want to change it for the better.”

15… 2. “You know I didn’t ascend to become a god,” she said quietly.

Amaryllia

1. “I will do no such thing,” she said, perhaps a little too fiercely. “I’m going to get you out of here, Chantry be damned. How long have you been here, anyway?”

2. “I am trusting you not to lose control again. I ask that you extend the same trust to me.” She paused again as the intensity of his gaze caused her to become aware of her heartbeat. “Can we do that?” she asked, almost in a whisper. “Can we trust each other?”

3. “He is not,” the warden hissed under her breath, “a traitorous bastard.”

4. “I am going to save everyone who can possibly be saved,” she said, her voice soft but resolute.

5. “There are some here who would call me too gracious,” she said quietly. “But… I don’t think there is anything wrong with mercy… or compassion, and understanding.”

6. “Oh, I very much doubt that,” she said smoothly. “I think you will forgive me far more readily if I do die.”

7. “I appreciate your concern, Wynne,” Amaryllia returned, her tone unusually short, “but I would prefer not to have a breakdown in front of the people I am supposed to be leading. And if I have to stay in this wretched city a moment longer, I am liable to explode.”

8. “I never considered you the real enemy,” she went on, meeting his eyes with a small, tired smile. “You are but a man, and can be reasoned with.” She stifled a sudden sob and stopped walking. “Not that I could even reason with my own friend.” Fighting back tears, she gripped her staff with both hands and let it support her. “I’m usually so good at that,” she said in a small whimper. “How did it go so wrong?”

9. “Do you think if I asked Greagoir very nicely,” she began with a slow playfulness, “he would let me cast a big lightning bolt in the chapel again?” To Loghain she added, “We fought a revenant in the chapel at Kinloch. I thought it had killed Sten, so I, ah… annihilated it.”

10. “You are not a burden,” she assured him, this time properly authoritative. “Besides, I… enjoy your company.”

11. “It is no matter, now, what might have happened,” she said. “We are here together, alive and well, as we should be.”

12. “Well, they are very… admirable, are they not?” she returned self-consciously, blushing despite her best efforts. “Gleaming plate and the occasional lush fabric…”

13. “Sometimes,” she said quietly, eyes still trained on the darkspawn, “I wish I could resurrect Uldred just to kill him again. But that wouldn’t make Cullen stop hurting, and it wouldn’t bring any of them back.”

14. “If I could share the source of it, I would,” she assured him, pleased but self-conscious. “As it is, I do what I can.” She thought for a moment, then added, “That is all any of us can do. If there were a little more graciousness in the world, a little more kindness…”

15. “Make no mistake, ser knight,” she said, and although she still spoke lightly enough, her words took on a grave undertone. “My charm was honed as a means of survival as much as anything.”

16. “Where would any of us be, without love?” She paused in reflection, then continued, “Is it not the only thing we have left, here at the end of the world? And is it not the most important thing of all? What are we fighting for, if not for love?” She looked back to Zevran and finished, “I would never pass up the opportunity to revel in the love I have found, the love I have made—literally or otherwise—when to-morrow is not promised.”

17. “I don’t blame you for that, or for anything, Greagoir. You trusted me; you showed me kindness when you need not have, and now I am doing the same for you.” She smiled, then added, “Besides, I don’t want you to die. There has been more than enough death lately, don’t you think?”

18. “I love your age,” she said gently as she wiped his tears away. “I love that you have so much life experience with which to guide me. I love how the years have shaped you into such a handsome and capable man.” He gave her an unsteady smile that she returned with an encouraging one, and she continued, “You cannot change the past, beloved. All we can do is learn from it and do better.”

19. “I suppose you’ll have to ravish me,” she said, turning her head to face him with a mischievous smile.

20. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I look forward to speaking with him—a man of good intentions and horrible decisions. He reminds me of… well, nevermind.”

21. “He’s too visceral a reminder of the fate you might have had,” she said. He nodded and hung his head, and she let go of him and moved up a step in order to take his face in her hands. “It hurts, and it’s frightening, but… darling,” she said gently, pausing until he reluctantly met her eyes, “if that were you, do you think I’d love you any less? If you fell that far, do you think you’d be unworthy of love and forgiveness, of a guiding hand to lead you back into the light?”

22. “It’s one thing to read about a person’s actions.” The locked clicked into place, and she dispelled her light and turned to face him. “It’s another to hear about their intentions, their regrets, why they did what they did and how they feel about it.”

23. “A year of you doing nothing but treating him like he’s beyond help, and now he believes it,” she said in grave accusation. “You’ve let your biases blind you to his potential, to his pain. If you approached him with respect—or simply any amount of decency—”

24. “Deserve?” she interrupted. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t keep her derision out of her tone or her mana under control. “He doesn’t deserve! Listen to yourself! Don’t tell me what he deserves!” She discharged her mana as lightning directed toward the floor, and the crack that rent the air was immediately followed by another as dust and stone chips flew into the air. Cullen flinched, and startled into silence, they both stared at the damaged stone, then at each other. “Sorry about your floor,” she said in a carefully calm voice, “but that’s your problem. He’s a person with a beating heart—of course he deserves decency.”

25. “We are all victims of the Chantry, here,” she said softly, looking seriously into his eyes. “Mage and templar… we are not so unalike, ultimately. No one deserves to suffer so. I only wish to help heal where I am able, and… well. Former templars hold a special place in my heart, as I am sure you know well. I wasn’t able to be there for Cullen in his darkest times, but the rest of you… I will do my best.”

Regill

1. “You are… a most curious individual,” he remarked with equal parts awe and consternation.

2. “Yes,” he agreed, “and in so doing, you put yourself at needless risk. The crusade cannot be left without its commander. Your survival is vital. The survival of individual soldiers—” he gave her a piercing, meaningful look that cut her to her core—“is not.”

3. “Admiration of the flesh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “A frivolous pursuit.”

4. “It’s… fine,” he said hesitantly. “The gold is—” his eyes flicked back down to the pendant and darted about her torso before returning to hers “—nice.”

5. “No?” he asked in such a smug tone that she couldn’t tell if she was smiling more indignantly or out of enjoyment. “Then consider this a trial. One of many.”

6. “Yes,” he said vaguely. “Good morning.” He sat up with a grimace and added, “It will be a better morning once we’re away from this accursed place.”

7. “I’m holding them to perfectly reasonable standards,” he insisted, “and we will all be better off for it. Society—and even more so, our crusade against the Abyss—cannot survive mercy.” She recoiled as if he had slapped her, and he added bitterly, “What did you expect? I’m a Hellknight. An officer. You didn’t really think I was any different, did you?”

8. “This will make us a more effective unit,” he remarked in a dispassionate tone that was completely at odds with how flustered she had become.

9. “Not going to take the word of an angel from your precious Heaven, Prelate?”

10. He frowned slightly, then said, “I had no intention of killing someone who means so much to you, even if I cannot understand what it is you see in him. His current state does not warrant death. Not yet. I will further admit that I do, however, have several contingency plans in place should that change.”

11. “You’re very perceptive,” he remarked with a touch of affectionate annoyance. “One of the many things I love about you.”

12. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say that too often, after all,” he said with an uncertain little smile. “If it’s going to make you cry…”

13. “I don’t consider myself to have fallen,” he said. “In fact, I consider this an improvement by all standards.”

14. “I think I can excuse their lack of discipline under the circumstances,” he said with a smirk that soon turned into a smile. “Besides, I’ve learned how important cheer and good hope can be for morale—so long as it is built upon a sturdy foundation of discipline.”

15. The Hellknight fixed him with a look that could kill, and while his words were directed at Isanna, he remained staring at Billiver as he said through gritted teeth, “You may lie with this creature of chaos if you so desire. I, however, will have no part in it.”

#pathfinder #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #regill derenge #dragon age #dragon age origins #my writing #my oc #isanna #amaryllia #text post #i did try to shorten ama's list... a little bit #i didn't include any of the most momentous regill quotes because those are too close to my heart #my dialogue tends to shine more in the context of exchanges... alas

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