#learning a second language as an adult sure is a bitch

[bicycleboyblog]

Gabriel asks about Isaac's newfound "bilingualism".

[yuu--dachi]

a joy to be hidden, a disaster to not be found

hewwo! it's my first fic in a while and also the first fic on this blog. wahoo!! and it's.... an x reader fic which i've also never done before!! and also for genshin!! wahoo!!

ships: alhaitham x reader / you (gender neutral)

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, lowkey pining from alhaitham, reader experiences a panic attack, written in reader's pov but switches to alhaitham for a bit at the end, alhaitham says Sorry cus i like to make him do that 😎

words: 4k (help girl how did i let it get this long...)

synopsis: in which a haravatat scholar realises that everything is not as simple as it is, our body betrays us at every second of every hour, and the three times alhaitham finds you, no matter what.

this reader is for all the babygirls (gender neutral) out there who feel things so deeply and we are all crybabies. i see you, i hear you, and i love you!! we're all bad bitches who are easily moved and touched by the world around us and that's lovely!! keep shining your light on this world, friends!

i'm taking requests for drabbles and quick fics or poetry! whatever inspo strikes me 😴

---

the first time he finds you, alhaitham says:

“the solution is quite simple.” 

and you find your fist in wanting of purchase in his face. 

“this wouldn't be a problem had you realised your limits before your entire body broke down. surely, i don't have to cite research papers for you to understand that it is important to take note of one's mental health accordingly, as an adult with agency in your own life? then you don't have to find comfort in the mouth of a beer mug.”

he was surprisingly chatty today, and at any other time you would have loved to relish in making him speak for so much for so long. getting him to talk so much was like trying to scrape the bottom of the jar for the last smidgens of berry jam, and you savoured it just as well. 

but not today.

“alhaitham, you're not in my shoes, so stop trying to make me walk down the same path you do.”

he tipped his head, confused. “what's wrong with my path? i have no relationship problems—”

“because you don't maintain any.”

“—no financial burdens—”

“because you don't spend it on anything.”

“—and no personal problems.”

“because you don't bother with anything you don't care for,” you sighed out. 

“if i didn't maintain any relationships, then why am i here? and if i didn't spend any money, then why is the bill under my name? and if i didn't bother with anything i don't care for, then why am i with you, right now, instead of reading at home?”

he flicks your nose; you sniffle in response and bury your face into the hard table, slightly damp from your tears.

“i don't know,” you whispered, the words leaving you without a thought. “why are you here, alhaitham?”

“if i follow your reasoning, it's because i'm bored, have money, and don't care to be anywhere else. does that answer satisfy you?”

a silence between both of you, even though the tavern was filled with the sound of chatter and the tinkling of dishes and cutlery. “...no.”

“then why upset yourself?”

you remove your face from the table and look at him, despite your eyes red and puffy from crying, nosy runny, and a wood grain pattern imprinted on your cheek and forehead. “i just wanted to hear you say it.”

he hums, thoughtful.

(despite his demeanour, he was rarely thoughtless about anything. even if he didn't make decisions you would've done.)

“because i care about you,” he let the words out slowly, like testing how they roll off the tongue. like learning a new language. “is that alright?”

you plant your face back into the table, all too-aware of your red eyes that must've sparkled, your lips that wanted to become a songbird in return for such simple words. “mm-hmm. thank you.”

“you're very welcome.”

***

the second time alhaitham finds you, you are under a table. 

“go away for a bit,” the words come out of your mouth clumsily, like tripping over your own feet in haste. “this one's t-taken.”

your humour probably didn't land as well as you hoped. the stuttering of the heart in your chest beating like a butterfly's wings in flight, like it had ambitions of flying out of your chest instead of remaining behind your ribcage where it belonged. to your credit, it was hard to think of a joke in the middle of everything that was happening in your body. you would've rated yourself fairly well, all things considered.

alhaitham didn't seem to agree, although he didn't frown at you. he tends to voice out his disagreements vocally rather than through things like body language—you know, like a machine would when you press the wrong button? 

if he knew what i'm thinking right now, he would probably say that it's one of the virtues of studying under haravatat—classic alhaitham!

instead of saying anything immediately though, he sat cross-legged in front of you, his eyes wandering, seemingly…. observing? what was he looking at? you're sure you could've tell if your mind was clearer, but you couldn't at the moment.

“does it not hurt?” he asked, then, from your face dipped over your hunched knees, you heard two raps of a knock on the desk. “this is the desk made with athel wood, isn't it? it's very durable, but it's difficult for the city craftsmen to make full use of them right now because of how hard it is. the edges don't look sanded enough.”

“i-it's fine,” you choke out, and then breathed in and out for a proper response. “i don't mind it so much.”

he raised a brow in return. oh, you think, so now he's going to use body language, is he? 

too bad you couldn't savour it this time too. 

“as long as it's pressing against me, i'm… okay.”

you hear him hum in understanding, like he does when he reads a well written proposal. 

“is that why you chose this desk in particular? the others were too high and wide and you couldn't make contact with the wood?”

before you realised it, it was easier for you to speak now, even though your heart was still pounding, and your skin felt raw. you didn't usually try to talk when you were experiencing… whatever this is. 

“yeah. i just need… to feel safe.”

before you realised it, your face was no longer tucked between your knees, but instead resting on them as you avoided looking him in the eyes. 

“i see,” he said, and he paused before saying: “would you mind if i tried something?”

you hesitated, and your eyes finally meet. “i don't know, what are you going to do?”

“i'm going to hold you in my arms,” he said, and switched from sitting cross legged to having his knees tucked under him, arms open and his hands stretching for yours. “if you don't mind.”

in any other situation, you wouldn't have minded. you'd say: maybe it'll start snowing in the desert today! should we start preparing for the oncoming winter?

but now….

you were a mess—just like you were in the tavern that night, too. red ringed on your puffed-up eyes, sweat drenching your clothes and making your back feel as humid as the rainforests at night, and you could barely eke out a word before seemingly using up every bit of air in your lungs, like a newborn babe that only knew how to cry.

you didn't know how to tell all of this to alhaitham. sorry, can i go change into better clothes first? can i save this hug for another time when i'm completely sane and sober to take full advantage of it? can you wait till i ice my eyes so i can look at you properly?

instead, what came out of your mouth was: “i'm disgusting right now.”

he hummed, and you weren't sure if it was his i'm-considering-how-to-reply-to-this-idiotic-situation hum or i-see-where-you're-coming-from hum.

“i can see why you'd think that, but that's irrelevant.”

ah. so it was both.

“why do you want to hold me?”

“i want to see if i can do a better job than a desk,” he says, and you feel a smile ghost your face, only because you see him wearing one too. a small smile, simple like him. 

“i probably smell really bad. i'm sweating so much right now.”

“that's fine. i'll stop breathing through my nose.”

“my eyes are really red too. it's not that i don't want to look at you, it's that i'm too embarrassed to.”

“i can just close my eyes.”

“my heart is pounding really painfully right now, and it's hard to talk.”

“i'll ask questions that are easy to answer then.”

finally, you relented. “...is it really okay?”

“yes.”

after you confirmed that he couldn't smell you and couldn't see you, you slowly inch from under the desk and into his lap, where he then wrapped his arms around you. not tightly or passionately, but a sort of reassuring grip—like he wouldn't let you fall.

“how does it feel?”

“you're probably better than my desk,” you laughed out, and the sound felt strange to your ears, just moments after you were alone and crying and hyperventilating under a desk in a room by yourself.

“glad to be of service.”

you laughed again. “i don't think even the other sages from the akademiya can ever get you to say those words.”

“because they can't. if any of them leapt into my arms asking for a hug, i'd redirect them to doctor zakariya.”

you laughed again, and you were glad you made him promise to close his eyes. the sight of alhaitham smiling slightly at you, and the sight of your smile looking at him would've convinced anyone that you were starstruck by him. you didn't feel up to being publicly humiliated at the moment. 

the two of you spent the next few minutes—which felt like hours—in each other's embrace (well, yours in his, mostly), and soon your breathing steadied. from the high tides and low crests of your chest rising and falling asynchronously, it returned to the rhythm of the afternoon tides of port ormos.

although it was a difficult question to ask, you asked anyways. “are you not going to ask me what happened?”

“one of the six sins of any scholar under the akademiya is to interfere in human evolution,” he began, and you felt a smile coming before he even finished. “i assume it was your body's way of protecting you against a threat. although—” 

he opened his eyes, and you would've tried to stop your smiling by any means before he could see you, but he was wearing a smile of his own, and you couldn't help but dig your fingers deeper into his arms. 

“—the nature of the threat and it's scale remains unknown to me still. you have a way with handling problems, after all.”

you gave him a big smack on his chest, fists closed for maximum impact. “ouch!”

how did that hurt you instead of him?

“a good rule of self defense is hard parts against soft targets, and soft parts on hard targets. you shouldn't have closed your hand. a slap would work better.”

“how was i going to know your chest was literally rock hard?!”

“i thought you might have some inkling. i've noticed your stare a few times before.”

you wanted to throw yourself into the abyss.

you couldn't, so instead, you took his hand and bit his fingers as the next best thing. 

a small ouch sounded from him, though you couldn't tell if it was genuine or for the sake of making you feel better. you laid your head back against his chest, arms now wrapped around him in return.

“thanks, alhaitham.”

“you're very welcome,” he muttered in response, and you almost didn’t hear him.

“you’re not going to tell me that the solution is simple, or that i was the one that caused this thing in myself?”

he hummed.

“no,” he started, and you wanted to collapse in relief. “i am a scholar of haravatat, not amurta. i don’t understand the subject matter enough to say in any confidence or plausibility that the way your—or anyone’s—body works is simple. if it was that simple, then we wouldn’t have an entire field dedicated to it. and i do wish it were that simple, sometimes. then perhaps so many scholars wouldn’t have written audacious sounding proposals that i’d have to read thoroughly just to reject.”

you snickered. “what does haravatat’s wisdom has to say about me?”

for a moment, you see his eyes soften, straying away from yours.

“that your body failing you is not a moral or intellectual inadequacy on your part. that we do not have full control of ourselves, even if we would like to. that, perhaps…”

“perhaps?”

his gaze returns to you. “...perhaps, we are all more fallible than we see ourselves.”

“only you see yourself as infallible. i know very well how my body betrays me every second of every day. it’s one of the things that comes with being in touch with my own emotions, don’t you know?”

the teasing was meant to be lighthearted, as you knew he didn’t mean anything he said before in a dogged way. his words was not thorny on purpose like a bramble bush, just rough to the touch like a tongue’s cat. there were days where his words striked too much like an arrow through you, and days where the coarseness only brushed your ankles like standing in sand. you loved and cared for him despite that.

suddenly, he pulled you tighter against him, and you squeaked. “alhaitham? Is everything okay?”

no answer. you shifted in your position to make yourself more comfortable, and with whatever left strength you could muster, you rub your hands over his back in calm, soothing circles. “there, there.” 

your voice reverberated through your body, and you continued to hold him reassuringly, hoping that enough exposure to having him be so close to you would cure your racing heart and your voice, almost crumbling at his touch.

it was good how self conscious of yourself you were. then, you wouldn’t be able to tell that his heart was racing, too. 

***

the third time he finds you, it was not so much being found as it was being chased.

it was just one of those days that went wrong in every way it could’ve gone wrong. you stubbed your toe after getting out of the shower, your research project was going nowhere despite your multiple reminders to your groupmates, and even the way the sticky-sweet baklava clung to your teeth annoyed you.

worst of all, you had a fight with alhaitham.

now that you think of it, it could hardly be called a fight. you’ve seen full-grown adults in akademiya gowns act pettier in a structured debate, and you were sure that if you had asked alhaitham—truly asked, with no contempt or malice—he would’ve presented to you a perfectly reasonable explanation why he didn’t act like an asshole and moreso sounded like one.

right. the only person that was taking things too seriously was you. it had always been you.

it wasn’t that you wanted to be less emotional. you had spent too much time in your formative younger years denying the fact that you simply felt things more deeply, more quickly, than others. it was difficult to accept that you simply had thinner skin than most people—that, on a bad day, the veil of privacy that stood between your emotions and the outside world was nothing but sheer silk that fluttered all too easily with an evening breeze. 

the ‘fight’ was nothing spectacular, either. It wasn’t as if you two were having an intellectual discussion as two scholars, rigorously going through peer review on a research paper. it wasn’t as if neither of you would come out of it having respected each other a little less.

but, like the person that you are, so tethered to the heart that it kept your feet frozen sometimes, it had hurt you deeply.

it truly was nothing spectacular. you simply wanted to vent about your terrible groupmates, and you thought that it would be nothing more than a venting session over drinks, getting sober, and then buckling down to do the job once you were ready again in the morning.

but it escalated. he, also seemingly irritable that night, kept bringing up questions, solutions, to your dismay. at any other time, you would’ve let it slide and shelved it as simply alhaitham being alhaitham—a man who wanted life to be simple and easy, fixing problems before they sprung. however, what you needed that night was not a fixer or a tinkerer with all his haravatat wisdom. you needed alhaitham the drinking buddy, the one that would foot the bill, the one that held you in his arms and wanted to be of more comfort than the desk you hid under.

“i just wish you would just—listen!”

“i am listening. it’s just that it’s difficult to keep my words to myself, seeing as this problem can be easily fixed, if you weren’t so fixated on unnecessary things.”

“unnecessary? i don’t like them, but it doesn’t mean that i want to snitch on them!”

“what’s stopping you? they clearly don’t respect you. who else can they blame but themselves as the logical consequence of their actions if you do tell on them? they are adults in their own capacity, and the akademiya is not a place for people to loiter around, seeking for forgiveness for one’s own incompetence. their lesson is theirs to learn.”

“i have my own way of fixing things, alhaitham. you may not care about other people’s feelings, but i do! and i’d rather work it out clearly with them rather than resort to underhanded tactics just to have my life go a little smoother.”

“then tell me, why hasn’t your way of fixing problems worked? only an idiot would employ the same methods over and over again, hoping it’ll work the next time.”

he didn’t call you an idiot directly, but he didn’t have to. the insult found its way to you just the same. 

even if you did, you couldn’t fully deny it either. in the perspective of alhaitham, perhaps everyone else other than him was a dimwit full of hot air. the thought that the same applied to you, who you thought had a pretty close relationship with him, stung the most. 

he had tried to talk to you and reach out multiple times (although, by your estimates, his attempts were somewhat weak and clumsy), and you kept him out of your house with a badly made sign that said ‘TRESPASSERS BEWARE’ above an aranara carving that looked—in your opinion—pretty scary.

on these days, it was difficult. you couldn’t touch yourself, feeling so raw that you feared that wherever your hand brushed, you would come away bleeding. 

there were at least some good news though: your groupmates finally decided to cooperate with you for the project, and you were extremely thankful for it. it turns out that they all had personal issues that made it difficult to speak out on, and now that they realised that you wouldn’t judge them for whatever excuse they may have, they confided in you, and everything went as smoothly as you could hope for.

the four of you celebrated at the tavern, drinks in hand at 3 p.m. in the afternoon. the boss, seeing this particular group of inebriated students, simply shook his head and smiled defeatedly. by the time the sky changed colours, only you were left sitting alone at your table after having escorted the other three to their homes to get some well-earned rest. you would have left soon after, if not only for the fact that you had ‘bumped’ into alhaitham and he ordered a drink to have at your table.

“i was right,” was the first thing you said to him, and you enjoyed the look on his face when the words left your mouth. “i was right. everything turned out like i hoped it would.”

he tilted his head. “surely you can’t expect for luck and fortunate circumstances to befall you every time?”

“i don’t. i don’t, but… i’ll keep doing what i’m doing. i like it when everyone is happy. things won’t always go the way i want them to, but i’ll keep doing it, because it’s important to me that i try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, that i don’t walk the easy road if it means i’ve passed by something meaningful just to suffer a little less in my own life.”

“you sound like kaveh.”

you chuckled. “that sounds like a compliment to me. thank you.”

when his drink arrived, alhaitham nudged it your way across the table. you raised a brow. “what’s this for?”

“to say i’m sorry.”

“words aren’t enough for you?”

“words are only enough for people who trust others to tell the truth,” he paused, then added: “and i don’t.”

you hummed, then leaned back in your chair. “pretend, then, that we are two people who trust each other to tell the truth, and that we would believe in each other no matter what. what would you say?”

his green-red eyes flickered, and you didn’t know from what. if it was with other people, you could hazard a guess, sure—but alhaitham was different from the people you’ve met, and you did not want to presume what his heart feels.

(even if he claims that it’s only there to keep him alive.)

“when i couldn’t see you, i still thought of you, and i didn’t know what to do. i want to apologise for insulting you with my words, even if i didn’t mean to. i failed to calculate the exact way they had sounded until it reached my own ears and i saw how hurt you were.”

you said nothing, but nodded slightly as a go-on.

“i like it when things are simple, but that didn’t mean i wanted you to be simple. i just wanted things to be simple for you, and i unreasonably tried to force my perspective onto yours and ended up hurting you in the process. and for that…” he seemed to have trouble wrangling the words out of his throat, and you would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so pained. you reached out for his hand on the table, resting yours atop his. “...and for that, i am deeply sorry.”

you hummed. another moment to savour. 

there  was still one more thing you needed to clear up, though.

“...do you think i’m an idiot?”

unlike mere moments ago, the words shot out of his mouth before he even tried to rein them in. “no. not at all. i’ve never once thought you were.”

you smiled at him, somewhat self-deprecatingly. “but you don’t like how emotional i am.”

“it’s not a matter of liking or disliking. your emotions serve a purpose in your decision-making. it’s simply that… i do not like the experience of having to see you go through things that hurt you, even if you’re willing to do so.”

ah, so that’s what it is.

“alhaitham, do you care about me?”

his eyes, previously unfocused, darted back to meet your unflinching gaze. “have my actions indicated otherwise?”

you couldn’t help it. you snorted. “alhaitham, the line between caring for a person’s wellbeing out of courtesy rather than concern is a very thin line. at least, for the rest of us who you might call ‘drama queens’ and ‘fake socialites’.”

maybe he didn’t realise it, but his brows scrunched under your scrutiny, and you couldn’t help but feel joy at the fact that you made alhaitham, someone so aloof and disenchanted, truly perplexed.

“do you not know the answer already?”

“i do,” you say, and you were sure that your smile was infuriating him now. “i just wanted to hear you say it.”

a silence between both of you, even though the tavern was filled with the sound of chatter and the tinkling of dishes and cutlery. 

“i do care for you. deeply. does this answer satisfy you?”

“yep!” you smiled, and alhaitham wasn’t one to offer prayers of gratitude to the sevens above, but he was glad that you were so self-conscious of yourself to be blind to the way he leaned forward in his seat, his one hand tightly clutched under the table, and the way he wished he could bottle your smile and indulge in it on a rainy day, if he could.

ah well, alhaitham thought, tomorrow is another day without them realising. 

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

No Man but You #7

(Final chapter)

Pairing: Joel Miller x !F!Reader

Summary: Joel and Y/n are on the hunt for Elliot and Ellie. Doing whatever it takes to find the teens and bring them back safely, all the while Max was left back inside of a cabin where an unexpected visitor pays a visit. And once they reach the hospital, only bloodshed was left behind.

Warnings: adult language, blood, physical violence, torture, kidnapping, mentions of cannibalism, signs of possible pedophilia, angst, tension, death, fires, mentions of rape, massacres, smut, gentle passionate sex, dirty talk, oral (M&F receiving).

Part I, Part II Part, III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI,

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

--

Y/n opened the door and enters the outside, Joel was right behind her as she loaded her gun. "Where'd they run off to?" Joel murmured to her. "We'll follow the tracks, it's a clear path to wherever the hell they ran of to." Y/n explained.

"Oh shit! They're over there!!" A hunter shouted when he spotted Y/n and Joel. "Shit." Joel growled. Y/n grabbed Joel's wrist and pulled him away, they both ran as fast as they could to get away.

"Move it! Don't let him get ya!" Another said when he leapt at Joel, who punched him straight in the face and shot him. Another hunter grabbed Joel from behind until Y/n ran and jumped onto the hunter's back and rolled him off of Joel. She rolled and threw the hunter off of her before stabbing him in the skull. "Come on!" Y/n grunted while she ran with Joel.

More hunters begin to crowd them, but they ended up being slaughtered by the duo. Soon, Joel and her were sneaking around near a cabin, Joel made Y/n wait behind him when he stepped out—until he's grabbed by another Hunter as he entered a street.

"Gotcha, asshole. Finish him off!" The Hunter shouted. "Hold him still!" The second one said, "Oh shit!!" Y/n attacked them. She grabbed her knife and knocked one off of Joel—allowing him to kick the second guy in the crotch, and headbutt him.

Y/n quickly stabbed her knife into the man's left side of his chest, then his right, then his shoulder before punching his throat and slightly lowering down to fly her hand behind his left knee and slice the knife forward—tripping the hunter backwards on his back in pain. Using her training she had learned from the Jaguars. "Son of a bitch!" He grunted in agony.

"You come with me. Come on." Joel growled as he grabbed the hunter and started to drag him as Y/n dragged the second one. "Let me go. I'll. . .fuck you up!" He weakly threatened

~Fifteen Years ago~

Y/n was sleeping on a small twin bed, it wasn't soft, yet it also wasn't that hard. She gasped when she woke up suddenly, half shaking as she looked around to remember her surroundings. She sat up and rubbed her ring finger, only to feel that her ring was gone. A sorrowful reminder that she threw it away. Shutting her eyes as she remembered his face, at least waking up to him near her, even after their arguments, he'd always end up lying next to her.

But he wasn't here, not anymore. "You alright, girl?" Nica whispered as she turned on a small lamp. "Oh, Nica." Y/n muttered as she wiped her tears looking away from Nica. "You crying-?", "N-No. Just thinking." She sighed.

"Ah. . . About what?" Nica grunted as she sat up. "Nothing important, you should get back to sleep." Y/n saw her sit on the edge of her bed and slide on her socks. "We get up at this hour anyway, might as well talk." Nica smiled.

Nica and Y/n both ate their breakfast before heading to the gym to stretch. "Make sure you got your protein." Nica said to her. "Uh huh. I already got some of Nick's protein bars, he makes them himself?" Y/n wondered. "Yep, he was a CrossFit trainer, he knows more about health and protein foods than I do. But I've been learning." Nica sighed as she stretched her legs, "Here, lemme help you." Nica walked over and stretched Y/n's legs out.

"What's on today's schedule?" Y/n sighed, feeling her muscles being stretched out satisfyingly. "Gonna be lifting some weights, legs and arms, and also do some defense and offense drills. Gonna go through the basic training." Nica said. "The boxing and other stuff?", "Y'know it."

Y/n hummed and groaned when she felt her back pop. "Damn, you really needed that sleep, huh?" Nica chuckled. "It felt good. Best sleep I've ever gotten in five years, Nica." Y/n chuckled as Nica started to laugh. "So, you're not going to tell me what woke you up?" Nica asked. Y/n lost her chuckling and went quiet as she remembered the nightmare.

"I didn't mean to be a prude or anything, but if it's something traumatic, it's good if you take some of the therapy sessions with me." Nica said. "Therapy classes?" Y/n scoffed, "I was always told therapy was for the locos." Nica laughed again and sat up with Y/n. "It helps, it's group therapy, we all just talk. No advice or much, just talk about our troubles." Nica added while getting up to grab some dumbbells.

"Oh, well, I don't think it's really for me." said Y/n. "It's okay, you can still just talk with me. I'm a vault." She grinned. "It was just about my. . . ex." Y/n murmured lowly. "Ooh! Some tea, I see?" Nica chuckled, "Tell me."

"Just, we got engaged. . . And. . . Then this hit us."

"Oh shit, is he? Did he-?", "I don't know. . . I left him and that's how I ended up traveling with Frank a week ago." Y/n added. "This was recent?" Nica asked. "Not really, like more like a few months ago.", "Shit." Nica gasped at her answer, "Why?" She muttered.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, "We just said some bad things to each other. . . He touched a nerve and. . . I couldn't stand it so, I left alone. Leaving my brother and his brother behind." Y/n confessed while lifting the dumbbells. "What did he say." She questioned.

". . . Just. . . Something about loving me and everything we did being a waste of his time-", "That motherfucker!" Nica hissed, "No way, he didn't say that-!", "He said that." Y/n confirmed it and Nica was flabbergasted. "Well, fuck. . . He's an idiot." Nica hummed. "I just. . . I think he was still grieving and he didn't like when I brought it up."

"Wait, grieving? He lose someone?" Nica inquired. ". . . His daughter. . ."

"Oh. . . Damn, I. . . That's a valid one." Nica sighed as she started to do situps. "I lost my son." Y/n said, cringing from the words she never thought she'd ever say in her life. "That's what my nightmare was about. . . I shot him to put him out of his misery. . . He was bit." Nica looked at her with regret and guilt. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. . . I didn't know.

"It's fine. Least now I can focus on myself and survival." Y/n said, "Let's start training." Nica nodded her head and stood up from the ground, all the while, Fernando was standing behind the corner—listening to the entire conversation.

~~~

They finally bring them to a basement where Joel started to beat them for information all while Y/n watched and waited for her turn to torment the men.

"What do you want? What the fuck?" The hunter tied in the chair grunted out as he tried to escape. "You wait here." Joel muttered, Y/n pulled out a seat for him and set it from of the hunter. "Now. . . the girl and the boy. . . Are they alive?" Joel questioned the hunter, Y/n held her own knife and stood beside them.

"What girl? What boy? I don't know no kids." He lied—Y/n brought her blade down into his knee. "Fuck!" He screamed. "Focus right here. Right here." Joel said as he slapped the man's face. "Or I'll let her pop your damn knee off. The girl and the boy." Joel repeated once more.

"S-She's alive. The b-boy too. She's David's newest pet, Darla feels the same for the b-boy." He grunted. "Where?" Joel said. He didn't answer, Y/n twisted the knife as he squirmed and cried out, "In the town. In the town!" Y/n ripped out her knife before shoving the hilt of the bloody knife in the hunter's mouth as Joel holds up a map. "Now you're gonna mark it on the map. And it better be the same exact spot your buddy points to. Mark it." Joel ordered him.

Hunter leaned forward and marked the location, Joel looked to Y/n as she tipped her head. Knowing which building to find. "It's right there. You can verify it. Go ask him. Go on. He'll tell ya. I ain't lyin'. I ain't lyin." He muttered out as Joel walked around him and began to strangle him until he snapped his neck.

"Fuck you, man. He told you what you wanted. I ain't telling any of you shit!" The second hunter said as Y/n approached him with a pipe. "That's just fine. . . We believe him." She said while raising the pipe. "No, wait-!!"

~~~

Ellie and Elliot were asleep in their cell, James walked in before grabbing Ellie. "Wake-y, wake-y. Come on." He said. "Let go!" Ellie gasped. "Ellie!" Elliot yelled as he stood up. "Get-!", "Stop!" Ellie yelled as James dragged her out of the cell, she grabbed the bars and Elliot shoved James into the wall. Until David grabbed him and threw him back into Darla's arms.

Ellie bit David's hand when he grabbed her, he grunted before ramming his knee in her stomach. Elliot struggled against the larger woman as they lifted Ellie onto the slaughtering table. "I warned you." David growled as he raised his cleaver. "She's infected!! I'm infected! We're both infected!!" Elliot yelled. David paused and looked at Elliot as Darla looked down at him. "Really?" David scoffed.

Ellie knew Elliot's plan and played along, "And so are you. Right there. Roll up my sleeve, roll up his pants. Look at it!" Ellie said. "I'll play along." David sighed as he slammed the cleaver by her head. Darla forced Elliot to the wall with his arms behind his back before checking his legs. They both saw the infected bite marks and remained quiet.

"What'd you say? Everything happens for a reason, right?" Elliot reminded him. "What the hell is that?" James said as he looked at the bite marks, one on Ellie's right arm and one on Elliot's left leg. "They would've turned by now. It can't be real!" Darla defended as she possessively held onto Elliot. "Looks pretty fucking real to me!" James shouted. Ellie quickly takes the cleaver and hacks it into James' neck, rolling off the table towards the doorway. Ellie sliced the cleaver into Darla's knee and Elliot elbowed her nose before David fired a few rounds but misses.

They both ran out the room as Darla yelled in agony. Ellie grabbed a switchblade from a nearby cabinet before following after Elliot who had jumped out into the blizzard.

~~~

"Okay. Shit. Oh man." Ellie muttered as Elliot pulled her hand along, "What the fuck is wrong with these people?" Elliot almost tripped when Ellie ran into his back. "Fucking animals is what they are." Elliot whispered as he snuck into a storage room Ellie right behind him. "Where you going, kids? This is my town!" David shouted.

"I need a gun." Ellie whispered. "It's okay, we can do this." Elliot said. They move to the front of the store and keep an eye out for the hunters. "We heard gunshots!" Someone said. "Infected!" They heard Darla say. "What?"

"The boy and the girl. They're infected and they got out!" Darla snarled. "This is bad, Darla." A woman said. "Alright, I need you to round up everyone who isn't armed and get 'em to clear outta here. We're gonna find those kids and we're gonna kill them." David explained. "No! I want the boy. I want to deal with him myself." Darla ordered.

"Oh fuck. I'll take the kids to the shelter." The hunter said before David, Darla and the woman split up; more hunters come around nearby hunting for the kids. "Oh fuck." Elliot gasped when he almost tripped.

"Tired of this shit. He's crossed the line this time." A hunter groaned as Ellie and Elliot snuck around them. "I've been saying this for months.", "We've indulged them enough. These brats killed our men and now they're infected."

"Let's clean this mess up. . . then we can have a town meeting. Put David's leadership up to a vote. That other guy was a better choice." Ellie and Elliot both snuck into a restaurant before they see Darla and David waiting at the far exit. "You're easy to track." She smirked before they ran towards the kids. Ellie grabbed her knife before Elliot went in and tackled David to the ground—trying to wrestle the gun away from him. Darla attacked Ellie and shoved her into the ground, Elliot kicked at David and got away. Grabbing his gun and running to knock Darla off of Ellie before dragging her away and running to hide.

He knocked over a candle which started a fire on a table, spreading to the walls then to the ceiling.

"That's alright. There's nowhere to go! You want out? You're gonna have to come get these keys. I know you're not infected. No one who's infected fights this hard to stay alive. So what is it, Ellie?" David questioned as Darla shut and locks the doors.

"Oh, hey, Ellie? I'm sorry about your horse. I truly am. I hope you take comfort in knowing we won't waste any part of him." Darla said while she searched for the teens, "I never liked you from the beginning, but the boy, who is he? Your brother? I really like him, I like the young ones. More energetic." Darla cooed as she looked under a table.

"Ah, you fuck." Elliot grumbled beneath his breath.

"You know, I. . . I wish you hadn't killed James. He's a good kid—just doing his job. In fact, all those people you killed. It's just gonna make our group stronger. Fewer mouths to feed. Stronger survivors." David said while Elliot snuck under a table and Ellie hid behind one of the walls. "Ellie! Elliot, come on. I know you're dying to say something to me." Darla called out.

"Creepy piece of shit." Ellie growled.

"No? Nothin'? Sure about that?" Darla muttered before she ambushed Elliot out of the blue, dragging him out as he yelled and kicked her hands. Darla hissed at the hits; Ellie ran out to a distracted David, managing to stab him in the neck. His point-blank shots miss by some stroke of fate. Elliot kicked Darla's gut and crawled away, running to punch David in the face and run towards Ellie when he started to shoot that them. "That was good, kid. It's gonna be alright." David sighed as he put his gun away, grabbing a machete instead.

"Don't shoot the boy, David!" Darla snapped. David ignored her and continued talking to the kids. "You know, you keep surprising me. It's a shame you wouldn't come around. Give up now and I promise to be quick. Promise."

"Yeah, go fuck yourselves!" Ellie cursed. "Okay then. Don't say I didn't give you a chance. You know, I love how you think that you're better than this. Better than us. But you're not." David said. "Ah, you crazy fuck." Elliot c

"It didn't have to be this way, you know. You brought this on yourself. You did."

Ellie charged at him again, before Darla knocked her into the wall—knocking her unconscious as Elliot continued to attack the two adults.

~~~

Joel and Y/n both approach the Silver Lake's outskirts. They killed the guards and quickly sneak inside to find the teens backpacks. "Why is their stuff here?" Joel muttered. "They were driving them away." Y/n said as she opened a door into a meat locker room filled with corpses. She covered her mouth and stumbled backwards. "Joel, we gotta find them!" She said with worry. "Oh, Christ. We gotta find them. We gotta find them." Joel said when he saw the meat locker.

"We gotta go." Y/n said as she exited the room and stepped onto main street, seeing the burning building. "Holy shit. . ." Joel muttered. "Come on!" Y/n said as she started to run towards the building.

Ellie woke up when Elliot was slammed against the wall by David, Darla shoved him aside and grabbed Elliot herself. "You're such a brat. We take you in. Feed you. Shelter you. In return, you bite us, kill our men, and act completely selfish with that little bitch!" She cursed at him.

David found Ellie as she reached for a knife, til David kicked her hard in the stomach. "I knew you two had heart. Y'know, it's okay to give up. Ain't no shame in it. I guess not. Just not your style, is it?"

"Y'know, David, I wanna have fun with him. I wanna make it last." Darla sickly grinned as her eyes wondered up and down Elliot's body, her hand holding his throat as her other caressed his right side. Elliot was reaching over to a brick on a nearby table. "I really wanted to have you all to myself, David would've ignored you if you hadn't gone and screwed it up."

David kicked Ellie down again, before crawling on top of her back and pinning her down. "You can try beggin'." He said as turned her over; Darla shoved and slammed Elliot on the table and started to strangle him.

"Fuck you!" Elliot hissed. "You think you know us? Huh? Well, let me tell you somethin'. You have no idea what we're capable of." Ellie managed to reach and grab the machete before hacking it into David's arm. Darla looked behind her and gasped as Ellie started to crawls on top of him to slash him more. Before Darla could look back, the brick smashed against the side of her skull.

Knocking her down and making her dazed before Elliot kicked her face and straddled her—bringing the edge of the brick down onto her face, again, and again, again, and again. Breaking and shattering her nose, forehead, teeth, and more. "Ellie! Elliot! Stop. Stop!" Joel yelled, Y/n pulled Elliot off of Darla and dragged him away as he kicked a screamed. Joel did the same to Ellie as she struggled to get out of his arms.

"No! Don't fucking touch me!", "We'll fucking kill you!" They screamed in a panic. Y/n turned Elliot around and held his face. "Hey! Hey! Stop it! It's me! Look at me!" Y/n yelled to him. "Shhh. Shhh." Joel hushed both the kids as they still tried to move away. "No-!", "It's okay. It's me, it's us. Look, look. It's us." Joel said to Ellie. The teens stopped struggling as they finally realized who was there with them.

"He—She- They tried to-" Ellie stuttered as Joel pulled her in to embrace her shaking body. Elliot whimpered before holding onto Y/n tightly, hiding his face in her chest as he started to cry. Y/n held his head and whispered: "Baby boy. . . You're okay. . . It's okay, we're here. . ."

"Oh, baby girl. . . It's okay, it's okay." Joel muttered to Ellie, he looked to Elliot who slightly peeked over Y/n's arms and cried as he saw Joel. "Joel." He whimpered as he quickly stumbled towards him to hug him as well. Ellie looked to Y/n as she stepped closer and knelt beside her, Ellie launched herself onto her body and hugged her. "Y/n. . ." She sobbed. "It's okay now." Joel said to them.

The adults held their faces and made them look at each other, telling them how they needed to leave and get Max, adding that they'll be okay. Y/n helped Ellie up and Joel helped Elliot up, both holding the teens near to their sides as they leave the restaurant, letting the bodies burn in the fire.

~~~

Joel opened the door and ran towards the stairs, "Max! C'mon on down! We're back, we gotta leave!" Joel said, Y/n led the teens to sit on the old couch and cleaned their faces as she glanced at the stairs. "Max!" She yelled. A small whine came from a nearby closet and opened—the small light brown headed girl ran straight into Y/n's legs and began to cry as she hugged her.

"Joel! She's here!" Y/n said as she picked up Max and held her, "Baby? Max, what happened? Why weren't you upstairs? Hey, hey, don't cry." She whispered while cleaning her tears. Joel walked to the girls and brushed back Max's hair to look at her, "What's this? Max, where'd you get this from?" Joel asked her when he saw a red bruise forming on Max's frail cheek.

She choked on her sobs and reached for Joel's shoulders to hug him, squeezing her legs around his sides and holding him close while burying her head into Joel's neck, still crying and shaking. Y/n looked at the stairs and carpet, seeing drops of blood and empty bullet shells. "She used the gun, Joel. . ." Y/n muttered as she looked at Joel. "We needa leave." He sighed. "We can find a different house than this, rest up, and leave in the morning."

"Alright." He replied, "I'll keep watch."

~~~

Spring had finally arrived, Y/n and Joel were both healed from their wounds—only their scars remained on their sides; Elliot and Ellie were both zoning out as Max held onto Joel and Y/n's hands—jumping and leaping with a smile on her small face; Y/n was heading towards Salt Lake City via an old turnpike. The distracted teens were staring a deer painting on a wall. "Kids! Did you hear us?" Joel said as Max and Y/n looked at them. "No. . . What?" Ellie asked.

"Look. Hospital. This is where we go." Y/n said as Max giggled. "Let's go, kiddos." Joel said before pulling Max up onto his side, she laughed when he prodded at her side.

Y/n walked and searched the abandoned cars for any supplies as Joel spoke to the kids. "Heh. Feel that breeze, huh? I tell you, on a day like this, I'd just sit on my porch, pick away at my six string."

"Hm, I remember that. . . You used to play for me." Y/n reminded him, "You'd always make me sing and teach me how to play sometimes. . ."

Joel chuckled at the fond memory of Y/n complaining that her fingers hurt from the strings, "Yeah, once we're done with this whole thing, I'm gonna teach y'all how to play guitar. Yeah, I reckon you'd really like that. Whaddya say, huh? Ellie, Elliot, I'm talkin' to you." He said. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." Ellie said.

"That sounds great." Elliot added while following the adults. Max picked up a few knick knacks lingering on the ground and started to fiddle with them as she skipped onwards with joy. "You never told me why you're deliverin' them." Joel said to Y/n as they walked. She held the strap of her backpack while moving forward, "Marlene said that their mother was there waiting for them. . . I guess I felt. . . Obligated? I dunno, just. . . It felt like I have to take them back to their mom. . . I don't know if it's the guilt or something but. . . Marlene also said she'd repay me for what she did. . . I just hope it's worth it." Y/n said.

"What did Marlene do?" Joel asked, she turned and looked at him with a woeful grin. ". . . I'll tell you later." She muttered before looking at a sign, "Look at that. Another city, another abandoned QZ. There's the hospital. Come on, kids."

Soon enough, they all hop the over QZ gate and entered a bus terminal, "This is one of the short ways, but we have to be careful." Y/n warned them. "Maybe we cut through here, huh?" Joel suggested before Y/n tipped her head towards the teens behind them who were silent. Joel turned and was curious himself. "Everything all right with you two?" He asked.

"Yeah, we're fine." Ellie said. "Y'all just kinda seem extra quiet today." Joel added. "Oh, sorry." Elliot apologized. "No, it's not. . . it's fine." He sighed.

Y/n looked up to the balcony and groaned when she saw the ladder up there. "How many times is Marcus going to leave that up there?" She mumbled. "Here, lemme help. Here we go." Joel said as he prepared himself into a boost position. Y/n shook her head and glanced at a old chest buried under some planks. "Hold on, Joel." She said before running towards it. She removed the planks and opened the chest, seeing a red climbing axe. "Yes. . ." She muttered as she picked it up, glancing at the kids who were still quiet while Max giggled with Joel.

"Ellie. Elliot." She said. "What?" They both answered. "I'm gonna get the ladder, get over here."

"Right. . ." Ellie mumbled. Y/n ran and jumped on the wall, hooking the axe into the surface and pulling herself up and climbing onto the ledge. She grabbed the ladder and set it down for the rest, she stood and turned her head. "Holy—kids, you gotta hurry up and see this!" She gasped.

"Okay?" Elliot muttered as he and Ellie both climbed up before their eyes grew wide, Joel set Max on the ladder and climbed up after her, "Oh my god. Whoa!" The teens said as they run off. "What is it? Ellie? Elliot!" Joel yelled. "Oh. . . you gotta see this, Joel!" Ellie said. Y/n grabbed Joel's hand and pulled him up the rest of the way, Max squeaked as she followed her older brother.

"What is it? I don't see anything. . . What the hell is-?", Are you kidding me? C'mon, hurry up!" Elliot smiled as he ran off. He and Y/n follow and finally see what's got them so wide-eyed: a wild giraffe roaming around.

"What in the Sam Hill?" Joel mumbled as Y/n chuckled at his reaction. "Whoa. You see this?" Elliot said with a flabbergasted smile. They find another giraffe eating right by a hole in the building as they entered another room. Joel looked at Y/n who was grinning at the sight of wildlife before he started to slowly step towards the animal. "Shhh. . . don't scare it." Ellie whispered.

"I won't. . .I won't. . ." He said as he goes to pet it. "What are you doing?!" Elliot hissed. "It's alright. C'mere, c'mere. Hurry up, c'mon. Go on." He said, Max was the first to follow Joel as he took her small hand and had her reach up to graze the side of the giraffe's large face. Ellie and Elliot close behind soon after Y/n approached them. "Hey there." Elliot muttered.

"So fucking cool. Aw, where's it off to?" Ellie asked. "Here, c'mon. . . Let's go. Come on." Elliot smiled as he grabbed Ellie's wrist and ran after the giraffe. "Slow down, kids!" Y/n groaned.

"Hurry up. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Ellie said. Y/n and Joel ran with Max as they reached the rooftop where the teens remained. From the roof, they saw the old zoo and a whole herd of giraffes.

"Oh man. . . wow. Look at those things. . ." Ellie said to Elliot as he watched. "So. . . this everything you two were hoping for?" Joel asked them. "It's got its ups and downs, but. . . you can't deny the view though." Ellie said. "You always liked giraffes, didn't you, Elliot?" Y/n inquired. "Yeah. . . Closest thing that looks related to a brachiosaurus. . ." Elliot grinned.

"A what?" Ellie asked. "A brachiosaurus. . . Those dinosaurs with the long necks?" Elliot said. Ellie shrugged her shoulders as he sighed, "Nevermind." They continued to just watch the giraffes before they head onwards. Joel stopped at a door and let his eyes wander and find Y/n's as she watched him with uncertainty.

He looked at the kids as she crossed her arms. "We don't have to do this. . . You all know that, right?" He said. "What's the other option?" Ellie asked. "We go back to Tommy's. All of us. Just. . . be done with this whole damn thing." Joel suggested, Y/n lifted her head and looked at him while Max held onto her hand, her eyes glimmered with hope.

"But. . . After all we've been though. Everything that we've done. It can't be for nothing." Elliot said. "Look, we know you mean well. . . but there's no halfway with this. Once we're done, we'll go wherever you old two want. Okay?" Ellie grinned at the adults. Y/n chuckled and shook her head. "I'm not leaving without one of you stuck at my side." Y/n said.

"Well, I ain't leavin' without any of ya as well, so let's go wrap this up." Joel added with a grin. Y/n led them out and they exit the terminal and into the old QZ processing area. Max smiled while running around.

"Well, this place takes me back." Joel said while Y/n walked into an old tent. "How so?" Elliot asked. "It was right after everything went down. Me and Y/n ended up in a triage just like this. . . Man, everywhere you looked, you just. . . saw families torn apart. The whole damn world seemed to have turned upside—down in a blink." Joel explained. "I remember seeing a girl sobbing her little eyes out when her father was dragged out of the QZ, poor guy was infected." Y/n added while walking out of the tent.

"Is that after you lost your kids?" Ellie wondered. "Yes, it was. . ." Joel said as Y/n looked at him. "I. . . can't imagine losing someone you love like that. Losing everything that you know. I'm sorry, Joel and Y/n." "That's okay, Ellie." Joel said. "I know they're somewhere better now." Elliot added. "Thank you, Elliot." Y/n murmured.

"Oh, hey, guys. We got somethin' for you. Here. Maria showed me this to me and I, uh. . . I stole it. I hope you don't mind." Ellie said as she reached into Elliot's bag and pulled out three separate photos. She gives one of the pictures of him and Sarah at her soccer game to Joel. Elliot grabbed one and handed it to Y/n, the picture of Noah and her at his basketball game.

Max held the last one and handed it to the both of them: a picture of Sarah, Noah, Joel and Y/n together when he proposed to her. Y/n felt the ache in her heart when she saw the memories in front of her, but she felt the remembrance of herself and Joel in a heartwarming way—softening the ache of her heart with fond and beautiful memories.

Joel sighed as he looked at the family photo of him and Y/n with their kids. "Well, no matter how hard you try, I guess you can't escape your past. Thank you, you three." He said. Y/n smiled and nodded her head at them before Max reached up to her shirt and made her pick her up. But Ellie and Elliot both wore smirks as they glanced at each other, "Great, now what?" Y/n sighed.

"We already know who decided to get engaged with that old man." Ellie snickered as Elliot covered his mouth to avoid laughing. Joel rolled his eyes as he turned away, "Oh, c'mon Joel!" Ellie laughed. "Oh great." Y/n grumbled as she followed Joel.

They cleared the QZ and entered an abandoned traffic tunnel. "This time it's gonna be different. I just know it." Ellie muttered. "What do you mean?" Elliot asked. "They're gonna be there—the Fireflies, I mean. I'm sure of it." Ellie said.

Ellie and Joel gasped when they see a sea of infected in the tunnel, all of them ducked out of sight. "Oh, shit." Joel muttered. "Holy shit!" Ellie muttered. "Shh, quiet, I know a way out of here. We can avoid the infected, but the bad news is: there's a huge current."

"Oh my god. There's so many of them." Ellie continued. "Whatever we can do to avoid those things!" Elliot whispered. "Let's just follow Y/n." Joel said to the kids. She went her own way and found another private entrance into a hidden tunnel; they hopped over a trailer and towards a flooded portion. "Watch your step. That water is pretty deep." Y/n warned them all as she started to cross the strong rushing water.

"Hey, that's what we can do once we're done!" Ellie said. What's that?" questioned Joel. "You can teach us how to swim." She smiled. "You got it." Joel said. "Yeah, you all need it." Y/n teased.

Joel followed Y/n and they both swam ahead in the water, "Where on the other side!" Y/n said. "Cool. Drop that ladder down for us!" Elliot said. "Alright, hold on." Joel added as Y/n positioned the ladder. "Just stick to the edge. It's shallow here." Y/n said.

"Oh, it's freezing!" Ellie shuddered. Y/n continued to find stable footing around the flooded area, slowly making her way across, soon enough they see Saint Mary's Hospital nearby. "Hey, look. There it is!" Elliot pointed out. "Just stay put." Joel said as Y/n swam around to find a pallet for the kids, "Joel, come help."

They continued to move towards another flooded tunnel that has a even faster-moving current. "Shit." Elliot muttered. "Oh no." Ellie whispered, Joel picked Max up before Y/n jumped across a gap. Joel and Max behind her. "Okay. Come on—jump." Joel said as he and Y/n waited with open hands. "You're gonna catch us?" Ellie asked with uncertainty.

"We got you." Y/n said. Ellie was the first to jump, making it on her own. "See? You didn't even need us." Joel said before Elliot looked at them. "Oh fuck.", "Come on, Elliot! You can do it." Ellie smiled. He backed up before running and jumping, grabbing onto Joel and Y/n's hand just in case. "Scaredy cat-", "Shut up, Ellie." Elliot growled, "Let's get the hell off this thing."

The bus they're walking suddenly started to shake from the rushing current. "Oh shit!" The teens yelled. "Oh shit! Kids—Kids, move! Oh shit, I got it!" Joel shouted. Y/n shoved Max towards the teens to catch just as the surface started to break under the adults weight. "Y/n!? Joel?! Here, c'mon!" They screamed

The shifting bus knocks Joel into Y/n and she fell inside of it, he turned and tried to grab her hand but it was too late. "Joel!" Y/n gasped. "Son of a bitch! Aw, shit!" Joel growled when he jumped in to get her. "Joel, wait!!" The teens shouted before the water grew stronger.

The current pinned Y/n firm against the windows as Joel held onto the poles and pulled himself closer as he reached for her hand. Ellie and Elliot jumped back onto the bus, attempting to kick open the doors of the bus. "We made it! We fucking made it! Okay! Open, you piece of shit!!" Ellie cursed. Elliot jumped and kicked the doors open, hitting the half-drowning adults in the heads and face. "C'mon, let's get you—Oh shit, oh shit!" They both said over each other.

"Kids, give her your hands before-!" But Joel couldn't finish his sentence when the bus finally gave in—turning and sending all four underwater. The current thrashed against their bodies as Max watched from above with panic, chasing after them in the dangerous current.

Climbing and jumping over the gaps and almost falling. The teens were dragged underneath the water, Y/n swam towards them and Joel followed. They spotted the two unconscious in the water, they swam with more power and speed towards them. Ellie was grabbed by Joel and Elliot was pulled up by Y/n. They dragged their unconscious bodies to the surface and set them on their backs. Y/n coughed as she listened to their breathing, "Joel! Joel, they're not breathing! Fuck! Chest compressions!" She said as she started to perform CPR on Elliot, Joel copied her moves and started on Ellie.

"C'mon." He growled—Y/n flipped Elliot to his side which caused him to weakly cough up water before lying him back down. "C'mon, Elliot. . . Come on". She hissed as she kept going. "C'mon. . . c'mon. . . C'mon. . .c'mon. . ." Joel whispered. "Joel, Joel! Where's Max!?" Y/n gasped as she continued the chest compressions. "Oh shit-", "Hands in the air!" Two guards shouted as they approached the four.

"C'mon. They're not breathing!" Joel argued as he and Y/n kept going. "Hands in the fucking air!"

"Come on, kids!" Y/n begged. Joel continued CPR until the man knocked him out with the butt of his rifle. Y/n yelled Joel's name and grabbed her climbing axe before hacking it into the guard's knee—until the second guard knocked her out.

~thirteen years ago~

A year had passed Y/n, she adapted to the Jaguars rules and schedules. Had her first patrol, learned more than ever, and enjoyed Nica and Fernando's company. She was in her quarters with Nica as she braided Y/n's hair into two French braids.

"So. . . I see you working up, Fernando~" Nica purred as looked at Y/n in the mirror. "Shut up. Fernando isn't like that-", "Uh huh, I see how he looks at you. Hell, he treats you ten times more respectful than me! And I've been here longer than you."

Y/n rolled her eyes as Nica giggled, "Maybe it's time for you to move on from your ex-fiancee, and hop onto lovely Fernando." She purred. Y/n nudged her side as she relaxed in her seat, "I'm good. . . I don't feel like dating anymore. . ."

"Huh, didn't take you for a one night stand, girl-", "No! I'm not like that either." She sighed, "Fernando is a nice guy, but. . . I'm just done. . . No one night stands, no hookups, no friends with benefits. . . I just want it to be done. I just want a normal friend."

Nica nodded her head as she finished braiding her hair. "You look nice with braided hair." Nica stood back and smiled at her as she zipped up her jacket. "What kind of jacket is that?" Y/n asked. "A military one, has this cover sewn inside, pretty handy when I'm trying to hide my face from Hunters. Has pockets inside, extra heat just in case you're stuck in the snow, or it keeps you cool during the summer." She grinned.

"Shit. . . I need that thing." Y/n said. "Over my dead body, this is the second one left.", "Who has the other one?", "Jeremy." she smiled. Y/n stood and walked to her bed, slipping off her shirt and grabbing a different one. "We have today's patrol, and when we're done, maybe I'll think about finding you one of these." Nica added while tying on her boots.

". . . Fine." Y/n chuckled. "Great, let's go." Nica smiled while dragging Y/n to the doors. "Tonight, I really want to drink some coffee. . ." Y/n groaned. "You gotta hold on then, maybe Fernando's daughter has some." Nica said.

"Fernando has a daughter?" Y/n asked. "Yeah, he keeps her away, also hides his coffee with her as well." Nica answered, "She's probably fifteen or fourteen, depends. But he still treats her like a little girl.", "Why does he hide her?" Y/n inquired.

Nica shrugged her shoulders as they walked, "Maybe outta love and parental protection." She grinned

~~~

Y/n groaned as she groggily opened her eyes, seeing the light and bright ceiling as she slowly woke herself up. "Welcome. . ." She heard someone say. Y/n growled as she sat up to look at her, "Sorry about those guards knocking you down. . . Didn't know who you were." A woman said. Y/n's eyes looked over to the woman, wearing a white tank top with a sweater tied around her hips. She had light brown hair, down to her mid-back, the similar hazel eyes that reminded her of Max's irises. She also had Elliot's nose. . .

"You traveled. . . All this way. . . Just to bring my kids back to me." She whispered as she sat down in a chair. Y/n sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes, "Yeah. . . Guess I did, but I wasn't alone. They helped, the man and the other girl."

"Right, Ellie. . . She has my sister's spirit in her." The woman said. "Your sister?" Y/n muttered. The woman looked at her with a melancholy grin, "Anna Williams is my sister, we were twins. . . I got pregnant a year before her, I had Elliot. Then she had Ellie soon after, named her after my son for fun before she passed. . . Then a few years later, I had Max. . . We were both blessed with children, immune to this virus. . ." She grinned.

"Max and Elliot. . . Are Ellie's-?", "Cousins, yes. They were separated because Marlene thought it'd be safer if they were all huddled together, plus I was moved to a different QZ." She said, "I never introduced myself, I'm Amy Williams." Y/n nodded her head and sighed. "Max, where is she-?", "She's fine. They found her, she's here now.", "Ellie and Elliot-?", "They brought them back. Now, about the deal with Marlene-", "No. . . I don't. . . Forget it." She muttered.

Y/n sighed and looked at the door, "Lead me to them then-", "You don't need to worry anymore, we're taking care of-", "I'm worried, just. . . please." Y/n said. Amy chewed her inner cheek as she exhaled with regret. "They're being prepped for surgery."

Y/n stared at her with confusion. "The fuck do you mean surgery?" She growled. ". . . The doctors told me that the cordyceps, the growth inside her, Max, and Elliot, has somehow mutated even more. It's why they're immune. Once they take it, they'll be able to reverse-engineer a cure. A damn cure to end all of this." Amy explained.

Y/n scoffed and crossed her arms, "The infected grows over the brain." She added. "I know. . ." Amy muttered. Y/n's brow arched as she clenched her fists. "Find somebody else-", "There is nobody else-", "You're their fucking mother! Her aunt! You're going to let them kill your own children, your own flesh and blood just for a damn cure?! You're not a mother, a mother wouldn't let her children be sacrificed for other selfish bastards in the world. The Fireflies will just use the cure against everyone else I bet!" Y/n yelled at her. "Does it look like I want to do this? This isn't about me, or you, or anyone, this is for the world and humanities survival!" Amy argued back. "Fuck humanities survival!" Y/n snapped.

Y/n stood and walked to her, "You're going to fucking show me-!" Amy pulled out her gun and aimed it at her. "This hurts me. It really does. I said my goodbyes, and now I have to go through with it. For the future." Amy said as she slowly lowered her gun, "Someone's going to escort you out. And don't even try anything." Amy warned her before a guard ran to the door.

"What?" Amy growled. "It's the small one, she got away. She's running around in the hospital! We can't find her." He snapped. Amy huffed as she ran out, "Take her out of here. If she tries anything. . . Shoot her." She ran off.

~~~

Joel suddenly gasped as he wakes up in a hospital bed. Seeing Marlene sitting at his bedside. "Welcome to the Fireflies. Sorry about the. . . They didn't know who you two were." Marlene said to him.

"And the kids? Y/n?" Joel asked. "They're alright. They brought them back and found Max. You came all this way. . . How'd you do it?" Marlene replied. "It was her. . . Y/n. . . She and the kids fought like hell to get here. Maybe it was meant to be." Joel muttered as he sat up correctly.

"I lost most of my crew crossing the country. I pretty much lost everything. And then you and her show up and somehow we find you just in time to save those kids. Maybe it was meant to be." Marlene grinned.

"Take me to them." Joel said. "You don't have to worry about them anymore. We'll take care of-", "I worry. Just let me see them, please." Joel cut in.

Marlene stayed silent until she answered: "You can't. They're being prepped for surgery."

"The hell you mean, surgery?" Joel huffed. "The doctors tell me that the cordyceps, the growth inside her, has somehow mutated. It's why she's immune. Once they remove it, they'll be able to reverse-engineer a vaccine. A vaccine." She said as she stood up.

"But it grows all over the brain." Joel reminded her. ". . .It does." Marlene whispered. "Find someone else." Joel snarled. "There is no one else.", "Listen, you are gonna show me where-!" When Joel stood and walked to Marlene, her guard knocked him down to his knees.

"Stop. I get it. But whatever it is you think you're going through right now, it is nothing compared to what I have been through. I knew them since they were born. I promised her mother and her sister that I would look after them." Marlene said. "Then why are you letting this happen?" Joel questioned her. "Because this isn't about me. Or even them. There is no other choice here." Marlene snapped.

Joel sighed as he sat on the ground with his arm resting on his perched knee. "Yeah. . .you keep telling yourself that bullshit." He growled.

Marlene glared at him, "March him outta here. He tries anything, shoot him. Don't waste this gift, Joel." She then leaves the room, right into Amy. "Max is hiding somewhere, we have to find her.", "Fuck." Marlene sighed as she and Amy ran off.

"Get up. . . I said get up." The guard said to Joel, pointing his gun at him. Joel slowly stood and started to walk towards the door, until he stopped. "Go on. Move. I said move. . . . Gimme an excuse." The guard said.

"Which way?" The guard pointed to the side, continuing to walk on as he passed his and Y/n's backpacks. "What the fuck you doin'? Keep walking. I said keep walking-!" Joel hit the gun away from his head and overpowered the guard before pinning him to the wall. "Where is the operating room? I ain't got time for this." He shot the guard in the stomach and questioned him again, "Where?" He shoots him again, "Where?"

"Top floor. The far end." Y/n cut in before shooting the guard in the head for Joel. He dropped the body as she grabbed and tossed him his bag. "We have to go. Right now." She said. "Gunshots! Search the floor!" A Firefly yelled.

"Oh shit." Joel muttered before grabbing Y/n's hand and leading her to hide in a different place as the guards came searching. Y/n didn't hold back from attacking the Fireflies, slitting their throats open with her knife before shooting another down. She followed behind Joel and made sure to watch out for her as she used her axe to hook it into their throats.

The two jumped and climbed over desks, sliding into the doors and blockading it with more hospital beds. "That should give us some time." Joel muttered. Y/n and Joel turned around when they heard tiny sobs coming from a closed cabinet. She approached it and opened it, seeing a huddled Maxine sobbing as she covered her head.

"Joel! Max is here!" Y/n gasped, Max sniffled before jumping into her arms and crying, Joel approached and hugged Max. "Baby girl." He mumbled, she let out a small and frail high pitched squeal as she cried. "It's okay, baby, it's okay. We have to get your brother and Ellie, okay?" She asked her.

Max nodded and clutched onto Y/n as Joel and her both looked around for the surgery room. "Over there!" Y/n said as she started towards the hospital room. Joel was the first to open the door, Y/n set Max down behind her: seeing Elliot and Ellie is knocked out on the surgery tables.

"Sweet Jesus." Joel whispered.

"Doctor?" A nurse gasped. "What're you doing here?" The doctor asked, he ran to the small table and grabbed a scalpel before holding against the adults, "I won't let you take them. This is our future. Think of all the lives we'll save. . ." He said, Y/n and Joel both stared at the doctor.

Stalking closer as Y/n pulled out her gun and shot the doctor straight through the stomach—he yelled when he collapsed, Joel punched him and continued until he fell unconscious. "No! You fucking animals!" A nurse screamed. "Kari, shut the hell up!" The second warned as he stayed away. "Please. I don't wanna die." She begged.

Joel helped Y/n disconnects the tubes from the teens, she lifted Ellie and he picked up Elliot. "Come on, baby boy. I gotcha. . . Oh shit. Get back!" Joel said as Max ran to them, Y/n nudged the back door open and they all made their escape. Running down the halls and through the obstacles away from the guards. Max ran to the elevator and pointed back at the Fireflies running after the pair. But they eventually make it to the elevator safely. "C'mon, c'mon." Joel muttered as Max clicked the button repeatedly.

"Hey! Stop!" A guard shouted as the lift started to move. "Oh fuck." Y/n whispered as the doors shut and it started to descend. Joel rested his head on the wall as Max hid by the corner of the elevator. Y/n's gun fell from her hands as she held onto Ellie, Max picked it up and handed it to her. "I can't hold it right now, baby. . . Hold it for me, okay?" She whispered. Max gulped and nodded her head with glossing tears.

The elevator stopped and the doors open, he and Y/n both get out in the lower parking garage. Max reached up and pressed the elevator stop button. "Okay. Come on, come on." Y/n said before she and Joel froze when Marlene and Amy both aimed their guns at them.

"You can't save her or him, or Max. Even if you get them out of here, then what? How long before Max and Ellie are torn to pieces by a pack of clickers? That is if they haven't been raped and murdered first. Unlike one of you." Marlene said as she looked at Y/n.

"Keep your mouth shut." Y/n growled. "That ain't for you to decide." Joel hissed at Marlene. "It's what they'd want. And you know it. Look. . ." She said as she started to lower her gun. Amy looked at her with shock as she held up her gun still. "Put it down, Amy—", "No.", "Amy-", "I said no-", "Put the fucking gun down now!" Marlene yelled at her.

Amy complied and lowered her gun as Marlene spoke, "You can still do the right thing here. They won't feel anything." Marlene whispered.

"It's their purpose. . . They're alive just for this. To die and save us. Isn't that what we want?" Amy added, "They need to die for us. . . To save us all."

~~~

Joel was driving out of the town, Max was awake as she watched the windows, Ellie and Elliot both slowly waking up beside her. "What the hell am I wearing?" Ellie groaned. "I hate dresses." Elliot murmured.

"Just take it easy you two. . . The drugs are still wearing off." Y/n said to them as she adjusted herself in her seat.

"What happened?" Elliot sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

Joel looked to Y/n and they glanced at Max who was watching them through the review mirror. "We found the Fireflies. . . Turns out there's a whole lot more like you three. People that are immune." Joel said. Y/n looked at the window as she started to speak, "You're mother wasn't there either. . . Turns out she was one of the immune people, that's how it passed to you. . . They tried making a cure outta her but. . . It failed just like all the others."

"There's dozens actually. Ain't done a damn bit of good either. They've actually st—They've stopped looking for a cure. I'm taking us all home. We're sorry. . ." Joel said.

~~~

Back in the parking garage. Marlene lowers her gun, but Joel shoots her in the stomach. Amy yelled as she raised her gun and aimed at Joel before she was shot in the chest, she gasped and held her wound as she slowly crumbled to the floor. The adults both looked down between them to see Max holding the pistol in her trembling hands, the smoke still flowing from the barrel of the gun.

She let the gun slip from her hands and on the ground, Y/n re-adjusted Elliot in her arms and reached to grab Max's hand, leading her and Joel towards a truck. They both sat Ellie and Elliot against each other comfortably, Max was lifted in and set beside them. "Stay here. . ." Joel said to her. Y/n tapped his arm and looked at Marlene and Amy both gasping.

He shut the door and followed Y/n to the weak bodies on the floor. "Wait! Let us go. . . Please." Marlene begged. Amy reached up towards Y/n with weak eyes as she glared down at her. Y/n watched Joel and he watched her as they both held their guns in their hands and glared at the two.

"You'd just come after them."

Bam!

~~~

They continued to drive on as the adults remained quiet, Y/n looked back at the sleeping three before back at Joel. "They look comfortable." She whispered. "Yeah. . . They do." Joel muttered, he sighed and pulled the car over into a garage. "You want me to drive?" She asked. "No. . . Can we talk?" He mumbled, Y/n nodded her head and he got out of the car shutting the garage door. She followed behind him and quietly shut her car door.

"Joel, what's wrong-? Fuck. . . You're not bit, are you-?"

"No, I'm not. . . It's. . . I wanted to talk to you. Only you, about. . . us." He said as he entered the old house, it was empty and cleared already. "About us?" Y/n muttered as she followed him. He entered the upstairs level and opened a door to scavenge for any useful items as she followed him.

"I miss you, Y/n." Joel said.

". . . I'm right here, cowboy." She chuckled awkwardly. "No. . . I miss you." He repeated as he walked closer to her holding the sides of her face as he looked into her eyes. ". . . I love you, Y/n." Y/n looked at him with a slight anxious sense, she shook her head and backed away while holding her face with her hands as she sighed.

"Don't do this. . ." She muttered. "Do what? Tell you that I love you-?", "Joel-", "When I finally got to hold you again, I never wanted to let you go. When I kissed you, and when you kissed me, I wanted more, Y/n. This entire time, all those months, I've wanted you even more than I ever have." She kept shaking her head as she held her hair, "Don't. Don't. Joel, don't say anything you'll regret."

"I don't regret saying that I love you.", "Joel." She groaned as she turned away, "We can't. This can't happen."

"Why not?", "Because we can't go through that again. I can't go through it again.", "Through what?" He inquired as he held the loop of his jeans. "Getting over us. . . Every time I tried to sleep, I couldn't stop thinking of you. Or Sarah. Or N-. . . I can't do that again. For fifteen years, Joel, I've been trying to forget about everything from before. . . Then I saw you, and when we. . . My mind always flies back to you and Tess. . ." She clenched the sleeves of her jacket as she shut her eyes, "And I know, I know that if this starts again, it'll just lead to more pain. Me and you can't handle more of that. . . We can't. We have them now. . . Whatever we had. . . It's gone." She said.

~Y/n pov~

I didn't want to hurt Joel, nor did I want to reject him. I wanted him, I wanted him so badly, but I knew what it could lead to. Distrust, arguments, fights, and worse. I can't stand walking away from him again. "I don't know what else to say." I sighed, he didn't speak, but I heard his steps. I turned to face him, but stopped when his big arms gently wrapped around my waist.

"Joel, we-", "I know. . . But, let's just remember how it was, just for tonight. . . Then we'll stop and go our separate ways, like we both said at the beginning of this." His southern drawl was husky, just like I remembered it, deeper and rough just how I liked it. A shocked sigh left me when he kissed my neck, fuck, just feeling his beard softly brush against my skin made me squeeze my thighs together.

"Ngh—Joel." I whispered, feeling his arms grow tight around my waist as his kisses traveled up my neck and behind my ear as his hands grazed my stomach and slid up my body towards my jacket zipper, slowly pulling it down and removing my jacket off my arms. "Tell me what you want, like you always did." He said as he pulled me back into his broad and musclar chest, gasping as he nipped my earlobe and let his breath glaze over my skin. "Joel~" I mumbled, he turned me around and held my face in his calloused hands. I let out a shuddering breath as I saw his eyes glance at my lips then back at my eyes, without thinking, I just tipped my head as a response. And he knew my responses better than anyone, he pressed his lips on mine and kissed me.

He slowly walked me to the wall as he continued to kiss me with tongue and hold my body close to his. He swallowed my weak moans as he pushed his larger thigh between my own, I grabbed his arms and squeezed his biceps before sliding them up to his shoulders and to his neck. My hips rolled against his thigh for friction, he groaned when I brushed against his erection that was strained against his jeans. "How do you want me, doll? C'mon, tell me." He growled into my ear as he grinded up against my body.

I bit my lip while whimpering into his shoulder. "W-We should—Ah-!" He covered my mouth when I moaned too loudly, he took my hand and led me to the bed and laid me down. "Tell me, sweetheart." He grumbled into my neck. "Like this." I mewled before taking his lips and messily unbuttoning his shirt, I was growing frustrated by the buttons but his hands stopped mine. "Not yet." He said—placing another kiss on my cheek before lowering onto his knees, his fingers worked the zipper of my jeans—he slid them down my thighs and down my ankles, removing my shoes along with my pants.

His eyes locked on me before kissing my abdomen, my back arched forward as his hands pushed my shirt up even more. I grabbed it and slid it off my head, letting my hand comb through his pepper and salt colored hair. "Joel." I whined. I felt his breath blow over my Jaguar scar before he gently kissed it, "If I didn't say what I said that day. . . This wouldn't be here." He whispered as he continued to kiss my navel before hooking his fingers into my briefs before sliding them down my thighs.

"J-Joel, what're you doing down th-ERE!" I moaned—my thighs quaked as I clenched them around his head, my fingers combing through his hair as my hips grinded into his face. I've missed this. Oh shit! I fucking needed this.

"Joel~ It's been so long—Oh shit! G-Gonna cum~" I gasped. His groan sent vibrations up my body, his tongue prodding at my wet slit as he watched me with those starving eyes. "Right there!" I cried, my orgasm was shattering my reality, my back lifted off the mattress as he continued to suck my clit, he nipped at my labia; I could feel his smug grin against my thighs as he kissed his way up my abdomen and to my breasts.

His rough hands groped them as his lips sucked and kissed each one, I held his head there while my hips lifted up to roll against his erection. I pulled his hair and pushed him over on his back, "Let's see if I remember how to do this." I said as I undid his belt and unzipped his pants, I slid between his legs and spread them apart more for space. I pulled them down just enough to let his cock spring out from his own briefs, I practically gulped at the sight.

I forgot how huge Joel was over the years, that vein on the side of his cock was more prominent, strong and thicker. I gently held his cock and started to slowly pump his length in my hand, I heard Joel hold back his groan when I kissed the head of his length. "Fuck, you're huge, Joel." I whispered—licking a stripe from base to the tip—taking more of him into my mouth. Using my salvia to moisten his cock.

I took more of him deeper down my throat, my memory getting back to me as I thought of the other times I'd randomly surprise Joel with a blowjob. When he came back from his job, in the shower, in the bed in the mornings, or late at night, in his truck, or in a bathroom at an old bar years ago.

I was always the risk taker in our old relationship. I grazed my teeth against his rock hard cock and swirled my tongue around the tip, tasting the precum. I missed that taste, he gently removed me from him and held my neck to kiss me. I cupped the side of his face, his beard brushed through my fingers in such a satisfying way. His hands held my waist and lifted me onto his lap; he moved and lifted his hips halfway to push down his jeans.

"I love you." He whispered against my lips, I whined his name in a whisper when I felt his cock rubbing against my soaked folds. Joel lifted me in his arms and gently turned us around, laying me back on the bed. My head rested on the pillows as he spread my legs, laying over me before kissing and sucking on my shoulders. "Joel." I whimpered.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them for a second before lowering his hand down between us, I felt his finger gently push into my cunt. It felt tight and foreign to me now. I hissed when he slowly pushed his second finger inside of me, "Fuck!" He kissed my cheek and distracted me from the burning feeling.

"It's okay, I got you, doll." He whispered to me. "Joel, Joel." I muttered as he kissed my breasts. "Just look at me." He said, I opened my eyes and watched his. I slowly lifted my hand and held his face, pulling him down to kiss me—feeling his cock beginning to push against me. A grunt came from my clenched teeth as he started to add pressure. "It's okay. . . I'll go slow. . . Just how you like it at first. . . Slow." He reassured me.

My legs caressed the sides of his waist and thighs, wrapping around his body as pulling him closer, he stopped me from adding more force as he looked into my eyes. "Slow and steady." He whispered. "Fuck slow and steady, Joel. . . I've been waiting for twenty years to have some sort of release, waiting for you. . . Because I never trusted any other man besides you." I confessed as I shut my eyes, feeling him rest his head on mine.

". . . No one but me?" Joel muttered. "No Man but you." I whispered.

With that, he breached my inner walls, a wanton moan flowed from my mouth as he hugged my body. His warmth was pressed against mine, our legs tangled together. "Yes, come on, Joel, fuck me." I mumbled into his lips, his tongue twisted and turned with mine as he coiled back his hips and thrusted.

A grunt coming from him as he held the headboard, "Damn, sweetheart~ Fuckin' forgot how tight you were—Oh shit." He groaned. Gasping and holding his shoulders as he started to get into a familiar rhythm, pumping his cock in then out of me.

The pain faded and the pleasure began to seep through, his length reaching into deeper parts of me as I winced. "Joel." I mewled, dragging my nails down his back and to his ass, digging into his flesh and pushing him deeper into me. My breasts bounced with each heavy thrust he pumped into me, getting steadier and quicker with the repetition.

His balls were slapping against my flesh, his hair below the belt were stimulating my clit just perfectly. I was wet, I could hear the pornographic sounds echoing from us. "Joel—Shit! Oh, ah, fuck!" I whimpered—covering my mouth as I shut my eyes. "No, no, no, keep yer eyes open. Look at me." He commanded.

"Ngh! I-I can't-! Gonna-!", "I know, baby! I know~ cum, c'mon, cum on my cock like you always did." He growled into my ear before biting my neck. I screamed into my pillow as my body was shocked by my breathtaking orgasm, I felt something flow out of me and wet both me and Joel in our nether regions. My breath was panting as I held his strong forearms, looking at his veins that made him look ten times sexier.

I tried to speak but he kept grinding his hips into me, I realized that he hasn't finished yet. "F-Fuck-! Sensitive-! Ngh! J-Joel-!", "I'm almost there, sweetheart. Just a few more seconds." He groaned out, cupping the back of my head and pushing my thigh upwards to spread me wider.

Choked moans and mewls were drowned in my throat as I felt another orgasm arriving again, "M'gonna pull out-", "D-Don't! C-Can't get pregnant either way—inside, cum inside of me, Joel!" I begged him as I bit down on his shoulder. He snarled into my neck before letting out a strangled moan as he pushed his cock deep, slowly rolling his hips before finally stilling inside of me.

Pumping ropes and ropes of his cum into me, coating my walls with his desire as he weakly grunted. My legs still wrapped around him as he caught his breath, I released my teeth from his skin and sighed. "Sorry. . ." I mumbled. He shook his head and chuckled, "It's alright. . . I missed when you did that. Markin' me as yours." He whispered while kissing my throat.

I giggled and hugged his shoulders—bringing his chest to rest against my breasts. "You do know I mean it, right?" Joel muttered as he laid on his side and pulled me closer into his chest to hug me. ". . . Mean what?" I sighed.

"That I love you." He replied. I looked at his face and let my thumb gently trace over the same small scar over the bridge of his nose. "I know you do, Joel. . ." I said. He held my hand brought it to his lips—planting a kiss on my knuckles. "Say it back." He said. ". . . I don't know, Joel."

"I know you feel the same, Y/n. . . I know you've been tryin' to forget me. . . But it's different now. We're together, after everythin' we've been through. . ." He said. I felt my mouth go dry as I held his hand in mine. It was difficult to say, after so long of avoiding this exact problem. . .

I sighed and looked at him. "Joel. . . I. . . I don't think I'll stay. . ." He looked at me and leaned on his arm to look down at me. "Pardon?" He asked. ". . . In Jackson. . . I. . . I'm not. . . I don't think I'll be able to adjust to it, or feel comfortable in it." He held my arm and kissed me, not letting me go as he hugged me again.

"Don't say that." He told me. "I can barely stand beds anymore, hell, even regular walks.", "How do you think I feel? Y/n, you and me will work through this. Together. . . Stay. Stay with me, with Ellie and Elliot, and Max. They all need you and me." He said.

I buried my face into his chest and sighed. "Joel Miller. . ." I said, ". . . I'm in love with you." I heard the small gasp of relief when he tightly hugged me. "Good. . ." He mumbled.

~3rd pov~

Outside of Jackson, the truck finally breaks down. Both of the young teens remained looking at her bite marks as Joel checked the engine with Y/n standing beside him. "Well, looks like we're walking." Joel sighed as he shut the truck. "It's a straight shot through here." Y/n said as Max held onto her hand.

"Alright." Elliot sighed as he and Ellie followed Joel and Y/n. "Actually kinda pretty, ain't it?" Joel asked them. "Yeah.", "I guess so." The two said. "Reminds me of hiking." Y/n smiled.

"Alright. Now watch your heads going through." Joel warned the three as he and Y/n both lifted the barbed wire fence. The five make it through with ease as Y/n exhaled with exhaustion, "Joel, I'm feeling my age catching up to me." She sighed.

"Oh. . . Feelin' my age now too. Don't think I ever told you three, but Sarah, Noah, Y/n and I used to take hikes like this. I think, ah. . . I think the five of you would've been good friends. Think you really would've liked them. I know they woulda liked you." Joel said. "Noah would've shoved Sarah into one of the lakes." Y/n chuckled. Joel and Max smiled at her energy.

"I bet we would've." Ellie said.

Y/n led them around a small cliff to walk around on, soon they all saw the town of Jackson. Y/n clenched her strap as she took a shaky inhale, thinking about being trapped within those walls. "Alright, come on." Joel said.

"Hey, wait. Back in Boston—back when I was bitten—I wasn't alone. My best friend was there. And she got bit too. We didn't know what to do. So. . .she says "Let's just wait it out. Y'know, we can be all poetic and just lose our minds together."" Ellie said. Elliot crossed his arms and sighed.

"I had a friend in Boston. . . We were both idiots and snuck out, then we were bit. . . He didn't want to turn so. . . He shot himself, and I couldn't make myself do it. . . " He looked to Ellie and they both said: "I'm still waiting for my turn."

"Kids-"

"Her name was Riley.", "And his name was Carl and he was the first to die. . . And then it was Tess. Then Henry, and Sam, then our mom." Elliot said as he and Ellie looked at Y/n and Joel.

"None of that is on either of you." Joel replied. "No, you don't understand." Ellie sighed. "I struggled for a long time with survivin'. And you—No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for. Now, I know that's not what you want to hear right now, but it's-"

"Swear to me, to us. Swear to all of us that everything you guys said about the Fireflies is true." Ellie said.

Joel and Y/n watched the kids, Max didn't look at her brother or Ellie, but she held onto the adults hanging hands and stayed smiling at them. "We swear." They promised.

"Okay. . ." They muttered.

~~~

They continued to approach the gates from afar, on the watch tower looking through the binoculars was Matt and Tommy next to him. "Well, congrats." Tommy chuckled to Matt as he laughed, "Yeah—Shit. . . It's them! They're back Tommy!" Matt smiled as he handed Tommy his binoculars.

"Holy shit. . . Still together. . ." Tommy grinned, "Open the gates!" Matt started to climb down the ladder and to help open the gate for the group. Max was running to the gates and towards Jackson. The teens ran after her and Tommy had his eyes remaining on Joel and Y/n, seeing their hands intertwine together.

Joel was grinning as Y/n smiled, both of them carried a small blush on their faces.

"Those damn Hometown Sweethearts." Tommy chuckled.

~The End~

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW!!!

_____________________________________

Hello everyone, thank you for reading my miniseries of The Last of Us. I hope you enjoyed the story so far. I'm thinking of making a second part of this series if y'all want it. It's your choice.

It'll all be answered soon if you agree to a second part.

And trust me, the second series will definitely have more smut involved heheheh. A deeper story with Ellie and my two other ocs. Y/n will have an old enemy who is rather close with Abby's father and Darla. What will happen when Ellie and Elliot find out about the truth? Who was the stranger who attacked Max in the cabin? The WLFs and the Jaguars will have a history of bad blood, and Fernando has a darker history than what he led on. And Joel of course is our beautiful texan hunk, we need more smut with him!!

(Spoiler: Joel. Will. Not. Die.)

The choice is yours. . . Make your choice.

[let-me-take-your-soul]

How would the Soul Eater Cast reaction to witch baby cursing like a sailor? It's Kid's fault.

Lmaoooo, I love this

Soul Eater Cast reacts to Witch Baby cursing:

Maka: Maka would be shocked the first time she hears them curse. At first she thinks it’s just a mispronunciation- Raven is still very young, so they still mess up on words a lot. After a small incident where Raven falls and scrapes their knee at the park though, that’s when Maka realizes that the cursing isn’t a mistake.

“God fucking dammit that hurt like a bitch!” 

Maka could feel her soul leave her body as she quickly collects Raven, avoiding the horrified gazes of everyone else at the park. Once they were gone, Maka would tend to Raven’s wound and try to talk to them about it.

“Raven, you know you used some pretty adult words back there. Where did you learn to speak like that?” 

“Big brother Kid talks like that all the time!”

“Oh is that right? Well big brother Kiddo isn’t supposed to be speaking like that in front of you! You’re still a little young to be speaking like that, so let’s not use those words, okay?”

Maka will give Kid a very stern talking to the next time she sees him.

Soul: Soul finds it hysterical. The second Barbatos let’s out a tiny “Fuck!” Soul is in hysterics.

“Where’d you learn that word?” he’d ask. 

“Big brother, Kid!” 

“Oh that’s real funny. Okay, just remember, you can’t use that word around everyone, alright? Just me and Kid. Probably Black*Star and Patty too, but don’t go around saying it to everyone, okay?”

He’s super chill about it, but every time he hears them swear, he has to hold back laughter.

Black*Star: Black*Star doesn’t actually notice when Bahamut is swearing. He forgets that children using curse words is typically frowned upon, but once Soul points it out, Black*Star finds it super funny that not only has he not noticed that Bahamut has been cursing up a storm around him constantly, but he finds it especially funny that Kid is the reason this baby is swearing. He’d point it out to Kid and give him a high five for it honestly. 

Tsubaki: Similar to Maka, she’s also surprised to hear this little baby say something as intense as “‘Baki, I gotta shit!”

After she collects herself from the surprise and gets Castra taken care of, she’ll be very mom-like and say something along the lines of,

“Castra, can I talk to you about something you said?”

She’ll have a conversation about what is and isn’t appropriate to say, and once Castra tells her that they learned the word from Kid, Tsubaki would be disappointed in her friend for not watching his mouth around kids. She’d send out a slightly passive aggressive group message saying: 

“Hey guys! Castra just casually said the word “shit”! Please make sure when you are working with the witch babies that you watch what you say! Their little ears pick up everything :)”

Death the Kid: Kid doesn’t realize his mistake until Salem starts rattling off every word in the book. 

“Salem, who taught you to speak that way?” he’d ask.

“You always say those words! I wanted to talk like you too!”

When Kid hears that, he mentally punches himself. Normally he wouldn’t care, but they were at a function for the academy and hearing a small child listing expletives isn’t an amazing look for them.

“You’re right, I do say those words a lot, don’t I? However, those words aren’t the nicest to use, so for now don’t use them, okay? I’ll have a conversation with you later about when it’s okay to use those kinds of words.

Kid won’t force Salem to stop swearing, he just teaches them to not cuss around strangers during important events. Outside of that, Kid finds their use of explicit language hysterical.

Liz: Liz is going to be the most casual about her reaction. She’s known Kid for a long time, so when Phoenix starts swearing, she immediately recognizes the phrasing as the way Kid speaks.

“Hey, Phoenix. I know big bro Kid talks like that, but you can’t, okay? Those are big kid words and you aren’t quite there yet.”

She’d talk to Kid later and tell him he’s gotta stop swearing around the youngins.

Patty: Patty is in hysterics when she hears Willow swear. Unfortunately for everyone around them, Patty will be teaching Willow even more curse words because she finds it incredibly funny. Her friends would have to step in and start teaching Willow that swearing isn’t always appropriate, because there’s no way in hell Patty is gonna do that! She’s having way too much fun with this.

Crona: Crona thinks that Ragnarok must have told Cricket about swear words, but after he admits to “only teaching them the word ‘ass’” Crona calls up Maka to ask her how to deal with a kid who’s now swearing relentlessly. 

Maka has to step in and teach Cricket about curse words, and that’s when they find out Kid has been swearing non-stop around them. Crona isn’t sure how to go about this situation, so they go with Maka to talk to Kid and ask him to stop swearing so much around kids!

[rainy-weather-supremacy]

*I punch a hole into the wall, directly next to your head* OIIIIIII MEU AMIGOOO

What languages do your characters speak? Also, do they speak a second language?

Would the Kilmoore brothers still defeat them? Because I thought it was hilarious that ppl with eldritch powers are defeated by normal street gang. I think it’d be funny

What kind of horror is their story, exactly? Or none at all? Or horror and something else?

What would happen at a family gathering?

Why does Mary have a power? Who or what took interest in her?

You have to go somewhere. You have to trust one of your characters to take care of the cute little kitten you can’t take with you. Why?

Who is the most anxious?

How long until they’d go insane from hearing Tainted Love on repeat? (This is not a combat question. It absolutely isn’t you know-)

Who is most likely to acquire a highly cursed object without realizing it?

*I try to pull my hand out of the hole, but do not succeed in doing so, resulting in awkward silence*

*Shuffles my feet a bit before breaking the silence with a cough*

Um. A-Anyways.

Ough. You have found my secret weakness. They all speak english, I guess. Avery was also probably made to learn latin as a child and Granny speaks a language that no one even knows existed anymore. Mary and Daniel speak a bit of italian for a reason I... haven't invented yet. Leon speaks german and uses it to swear when adults are around. Tara and Mikaela probably also speak another language but I couldn't tell you which one. Camilla doesn't speak another language, I think, but she has the worst british accent in the world for no reason (except that I think it's funny).

Hold on, I'm gonna make a graph for this.

Special circumstances: Daniel could win inside and on dirt, Leon they could only touch if they were about to die (or if they used someone about to die as a cub?), Camilla they could defeat with gasoline. Actually Jamie should be there too, depending on how dark it is.

3. Honestly, it's probably some kind of romance/drama/comedy and the horror part is just there for fun.

4. If you're lucky, everyone bitches at each other for a bit and leaves again in the evening. On the other hand, there might be fights or full-on murder attempts which Jackson always has to be quick to diffuse before it gets completely out of control. No one has died, tough. ...not yet.

5. Well, where they're "originally" from, it's a power called the Vast. I mentioned it recently, it's the fear of storms, giant open spaces, heights, being insignificant, thalantassaphobia, stuff like that. I'm not sure how she got it's attention, probably because she has that mindset of "nothing really matters (anyone can see) so you might as well do what you like" that it's all about. I'd imagine it has to do with walking in a storm.

6. Jamie. He could shapeshift into a big cat and take care of them and he actually would. Plus he can share them with Daniel, who could absolutely use some kittens but could not take care of them. I might suddenly have one more when I get back, tough, so I would have to find out which is her.

7. Arthur

8. I can't believe you are making me listen to music. From the experiment I have conducted, 15-30.

9. Avery. She grew up in the kind of house where everything is really fancy and uninviting so another object that's cold and looks old wouldn't strike it as very odd.

*I try to pull you out of the hole but it doesn't work so I paint you white*

At least you fit in with the wall now...?

[fortuositywritings]

I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 9

Summary: You get your ass handed to you. You have fun times with Wanda only for a rude awakening.

Warnings: a lot of cursing, alcohol

If anyone asks her, Laura loves her cousin. She loves you. She really, really does. But sometimes you were a bit of a pain or rather a handful and everyone knows pregnant women should not be carrying too much. So, she can’t help but be glad that there are other people here to help lighten the load. 

Is it wrong that lightening the load includes allowing her husband’s ex-assassin of a best friend to basically manhandle you, said cousin she claims to love so much, at 6am in the morning? It may be a little worrisome, yes. But what is really wrong here is how she is sitting front and center, watching it all happen in front of her a little too amusedly.

Could you really blame her though? She’s pregnant. She knows she wouldn’t be able to stand watching you get thrown around, especially on her swollen feet.

It seems everyone woke up early to watch Nat “teach you self-defense”. You’ve been outside for an hour now and no one has moved from their seats. Oh, no that’s a lie. Clint did go inside once, only for him to come right back offering everyone some lemonade. Even the critters are there sitting criss cross next to Pietro on the grass sipping on their lemonades. 

“So when does the self-defense part start?” you ask, out of breath. You weren’t doing anything, but falling on your ass repeatedly sure makes one sweat.

“When you start defending yourself,” Nat quips. You respond with a baffled, “What?!”

“Arms up, Y/N!” you hear your cousin shout as you prepare yourself to get thrown again.

“Look, if you are still mad about the Yelena Incident, I’m sure there could have been another less violent way to get your frustrations out.” Nat rolls her eyes and in what feels like a second, there are legs wrapped around your head in not a sexy way and you are flipped onto the ground. 

“OH!!!” Everyone yells, as you feel the wind knock out of you. You hear the kids shouting, “Do it again!”

“No, don’t do it again,” you wheeze out. You feel someone rush to your side. 

“Are you okay?” Wanda helps you sit up. An angel, that woman. She turns to glare at Nat. “Did you really have to do that?”

“Relax, she’s fine.” Nat answers, not bothered in any way. Either she’s blind or she’s delusional thinking you took her go-to take-down-the-bad-guy move like a simple scratch on the knee. Wanda gets visibly upset by Nat’s careless demeanor, little wisps of red magic trickling from her hand. She moves to confront Natasha and you think it might be you that is delusional when you stop Wanda, red wisps tickling your hand, and say, “It’s okay. I’m good.”

“See!” Nat throws her hands up.

“You should have put your arms up,” your cousin says off to the side. You narrow your eyes at her after Wanda helps you up. “Yes, Laura. Thank you so much. That would have really saved me from her spinny-upsidedown-flippity-whateverthefuck that was.”

Sam and Clint snicker beside your cousin at your description of Nat’s signature move. She gives you the watch-your-language look that you completely ignore. “Why don’t you come and show me how that was meant to help?”

“Can’t. Pregnant. Sorry,” your cousin motions to her belly. You shake your head, “Excuses, excuses.”

“I do know some self-defense though and I think it is really important to learn so I’m rooting for you on the side lines,” Laura adds. Not believing a word she said, you ask, “And who taught you self-defense? ‘Cause I know for a fact it wasn’t Nat. You wouldn’t be cruel enough to put me through the same torture.”

“I taught her. She’s a pretty decent shot too,” Clint admits proudly. 

“No way. You can shoot?” Sam looks at Laura as skeptical as you do. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Hun, bring out your gear,” your cousin says, getting everyone excited. Pietro and Sam help her stand and move over to get a clear shot of where Clint put up a target. Everyone stands aside and watches in anticipation when Clint hands his wife a bow and an arrow. She nocks the arrow back, aims, shoots, and nearly hits the bullseye, leaving everyone’s mouth agape. 

“Okay, impressive,” Sam says.

“No way. You made that look way too easy. Let me try,” you say, wanting to give it a go, and a go you give alright, the arrow ricocheting off a tree (not even the tree that had the target on it) and heading towards Peter’s face. Luckily his reflexes or what he’s described as some kind of tingle kicks in and he catches the arrow on time. 

You let out a sigh of relief seeing that you have not accidentally killed someone. You didn’t want to be a murderer let alone be known as the asshole that killed Spiderman by accident. You flood Peter’s ears with apologies and though he says it’s all good, you still feel really bad and ask Wanda if she could help you bake him some cookies or something later. 

Everyone heads inside after that near death experience. Everyone but you and Nat who says, “Playtime’s over. Let’s do this for real now.”

“Wait, that wasn’t it?!”

Another two hours go by. Wanda wonders why you haven’t barged in the room yet to “bother” her. You should have been done undergoing Nat’s painful lesson by now. Finding it odd that you have yet to make an appearance, Wanda sets out to find you. She sees Natasha sitting at the kitchen table. When she asks her about your whereabouts and gets a “Who knows” as a response, she knows something is up. Nat always knows, so Wanda presses, “What did she say and where did you leave her?”

Natasha eventually tells her where you are. Wanda finds you outside, hosing yourself off. You are covered in mud, which Wanda can only assume was Nat’s doing. “Why did you have to antagonize her?”

You look up to see Wanda staring at you unimpressed, arms crossed and all. You defend, “You have to admit, had you the opportunity, you would have done the same.”

“You mean tell her you’ve now had two Romanov’s thighs around your head and then ask where her mom was because you wanted to ‘complete the set’,” Wanda says, uncrossing her arms to do air quotes. 

“Come on, let me have this, Wanda. You should have seen it! It was glorious. The set up, the delivery, the punch,” you throw your arms in the air dramatically, hose in hand splashing water everywhere. Your body aches and you yelp, “Ow.”

Wanda only shakes her head at you. You pout and turn the hose off. “I’ve never met her mom, but she probably would’ve at least chuckled appreciating a good line. I know Yelena for sure would’ve tried not to giggle before kicking my ass as well.”

Wanda doesn’t mean to let out the grunt of annoyance at the mention of this Yelena, but it happens. Luckily, you either don’t hear it or ignore it as you pass by her, stopping to take off your shoes by the door. Before heading inside, you turn to her and coyly ask, “Do you think you could help me wash some of the mud away upstairs? I don’t think I can reach some parts on my own.”

It doesn’t take a psychic to know Wanda helping you scrub your back is not what you actually have in mind. She tries her best not to stutter as she says, “Of course, what are friends for?”

You head up to the shower first. Wanda waits downstairs two minutes before following up, thinking it was enough time for it not to seem suspicious. Clint, who is in the laundry room, though back turned the whole time, still notices and pipes up right as Wanda takes the first step up. 

“Just keep in mind the acoustics of the bathroom,” he warns Wanda. Though he doesn’t see her, based on the clumsy rushed steps after, he knows she was blushing the whole way upstairs.

Having Wanda in the shower, double entendre intended, proves to be a good thing because it turns out you do in fact need help scrubbing some of the mud that somehow made it down your back. Wanda gets on your case again about agitating Nat but it’s hard to really focus on what she’s saying when her hands are all over you, even if she is just scrubbing you down.

An hour later, Laura and Nat sit at the kitchen table and try not to laugh at you struggling with the measuring cups. Sam holds no reservations in laughing in your face. “How does a grown ass woman not know how to measure some flour?”

Wanda makes a face and he corrects himself, “I hear how that sounded. Let me rephrase. How does a grown ass adult who has had to pass middle school to get into college not know how to measure some flour?”

“Unnecessary jibe at my education aside, Sam, I appreciate you rephrasing that. Back to the matter at hand, I’d like to see you try, bitch,” you challenge him, handing over all the measuring kitchen equipment. 

“Gladly.” He takes your place, leaving you to go stand beside Wanda. “Let me show you how it’s done.” 

You all watch him as he looks over the recipe. You think he is just bluffing about his skills, making a grand show of it all. That is until he turns back to Wanda to ask, “Two batches, right?” Then at her nod, he goes into British Bake Off mode or whatever you would call x game mode for baking. 

Seeing him confidently measuring ingredient after ingredient, you lean over to Wanda and ask under your breath, “Is he doing it right?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Damn it,” you huff out. Sam overhears and chuckles, his ego inflating by the minute. You pout at Sam having taken over what was meant to be a fun activity for you and Wanda to do, but he seems like he is really enjoying showing off so you can’t be too mad. Wanda finds your pout too cute and can’t help but press a quick kiss to your lips, surprising you both. You are both blushing and she tries to play it off cool. “You did say whenever I wanted.”

“I did say that, yes,” you recall. She smiles and then gives you another chaste kiss, more confidently this time, before heading over to Sam. “Alright, leave Y/N to do something, show off.”

Meanwhile, you are trying to calm your racing heart at her kissing you so openly, which is when you realize you have an audience. You’re afraid to see if Laura and Nat saw. You turn around slowly. They clearly did, your cousin’s raised eyebrow indicating so. It makes you blush harder, so you turn back around and go to see what you can do.

Wanda and Sam give you the job of rolling the cookie dough into little balls after moving you away from setting the oven heat because you tried to turn up the heat by double in order to “bake the cookies faster”. They explain why you couldn’t do that.

“Yeah, I knew that,” you say, as you lower the temperature back down. “I was just testing you guys.”

No one believes you but they don’t say anything. Nat and your cousin watch with interest as Wanda and Sam pull your hand full of raw dough away from your mouth when you try to taste it. You lie and say you were testing them again. 

Peter and Pietro trail into the kitchen at the smell of the cookies baking. Sam takes them out once they are ready. Pietro tries to grab a cookie first, but you are faster, smacking his hand away. “Peter gets the first cookie. They were meant to be for him.”

Peter, who has been lingering shyly behind Pietro, perks up. He asks you, “Why?”

“For nearly killing you. Sorry about that. Sam technically did nearly everything, which might have been for the best given my lack of skills in the kitchen. But it’s the thought, right?” you ramble.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you. I won’t say no to cookies. They all look good. Let’s just all dig in,” Peter says, seeing Pietro’s grumbly face. Pietro cheers up at that and mutters, “Finally.”

Laura sees you and the guys reaching for a cookie and warns, “Careful, they’re hot,” but the cookies are already in your mouths. 

“Fuck!” “Shit!” “H-h-hot!” All three of you yell but none of you spit the cookies out. Instead, you all choose to look ridiculous cooling the cookies with your mouths open. Sam looks at you three like the dumbasses you are. Your cousin and Nat look unfazed and Wanda is practically doubled over laughing so hard that you can’t even hear it because she’s having trouble breathing. 

“Get out of my kitchen. Come back when you have proof y’all graduated elementary school.” Sam kicks you out of the kitchen, Pietro grabbing some cookies before being shooed away. You head outside and decide to play some basketball. Cooper and Lila come and join you and a few minutes later so does Wanda. 

You pause, holding the ball in your hands as Wanda walks up to you. 

“What? Did you finish your two pages of reading for the day that quickly or did you just miss me?” you tease her. She gives you a sarcastic smile before snatching the ball away. “Two chapters actually.” She then goes to line up her shot. She shoots and scores, turning back to you with a smug smile at which you shake your head.

“Hey, you can’t walk with the ball. That doesn’t count!” Pietro whines. You fight for her point, telling him to just let her have it, which he does not let go without pointing out, “Oh, so when I do it, it’s not a point, but when Lila and Wanda do it, it counts? How is that fair?”

“Because she’s six and she’s cute, Pietro. That’s why it counts,” you reply.

“Okay, but what about my sister?”

“I just explained. Lila is six and Wanda is cute. Come on, man. Keep up.” Wanda overhears and blushes hard. Pietro laughs at his sister, embarrassing her further. You take the ball away from his hands while he is distracted and then pass it to Lila. 

You do way better this game than the last time you played. You still lost but progress. 

The next morning feels like a rinse and repeat. Nat wakes you up, you go for the morning hike, you complain the whole time. Breakfast is a different story. Laura’s lower back has been aching and she’s been having contractions, one of which comes while you’re eating, scaring most of you. You get straight to your feet asking where the baby bag is and Pietro rushes to find the keys saying, “I’ll start the car!” 

Peter pipes, “I think someone else should drive.” 

“Everyone calm down. I don’t need to go anywhere. The baby’s not coming yet,” your cousin reassures everyone, specifically her husband and Nat who are at her side. Everyone lets out a breath of relief. You ask where the baby bag is anyway to know when the time does come. She says there isn’t one and then Nat is on Clint and your heads about not being prepared.

“I got here after you did,” you defend yourself. She then looks over to Clint who says, “I’ve been saving the world.”

“Always an excuse with you two,” Nat chides. 

And so the afternoon finds Clint, Sam, and Nat going to buy the essentials, while the rest of you help clean up around the house. Wanda is left to supervise Lila and Cooper clean their rooms, Peter is in charge of vacuuming upstairs, Pietro is given dish washing duty, and you are given the broom and mop. 

Your cousin relaxes on the couch in the meantime. You yell up the stairs that you will be mopping now, warning everyone to watch their step. You repeat the same to your cousin who sarcastically says, “I think the whole town heard you, Y/N.”

“Well, excuse me for caring for everyone’s well being,” you retort, continuing your chores. You’re nearly finished. You just need Pietro to be done in the kitchen so you can mop there. You sit and wait in Clint and Laura’s little home office. 

You swivel around in the chair, looking around curiously until something calls your attention, that something being the laminator. You try to think of something fun to laminate but think of nothing interesting. Then you remember something and rush upstairs to get it.

You pass Peter who asks if he can go downstairs now having finished vacuuming. You say yes but tell him not to go into the kitchen yet. You grab what you are looking for in your bag and head back downstairs to laminate it. Before you do, you write a message on the back. 

Dear Scarlet Wizard, please stop hurting the books. Thank you. Y/N :)

Then you laminate the strip. You look over your finished product proudly before tucking it into your back pocket. You’re about to head out of the office when Pietro’s voice crescendos, heeding you of his presence before he appears. “Just ask her, Wanda. She’s seen you in them. I don’t know why you are embarrassed.”

That piques your interest. Pietro finally appears, with Wanda lingering behind him, looking like she’d much rather be anywhere else. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Pietro looks back at Wanda expectantly, but when she doesn’t say anything, he explains for her. “She needs help washing her underpants.”

“Pietro!” Wanda shouts, her face giving a new meaning to her superhero name with how red it turns. She moves forward, spluttering, “I asked Laura if I could wash some of my clothes. She said yes, but I don’t know how to work this machine and I didn’t want to make her get up to show me, and Pietro told me to ask you, so…” 

She trails off shyly, wanting to bury herself in the nearest ditch right after she murders her brother for putting her in this position. Wanda hadn’t prepared to stay so long and hadn’t brought extra clothes. Now she regrets not being like Peter who overprepares. She wonders how her brother hasn’t run out of clean underwear but she thinks it’s better not to ask, predicting she won’t like whatever the answer is; Pietro is not someone who is over prepared either.

“That’s it?” you ask, not seeing what the big deal was, but you can see that Wanda is still looking rather awkward about it, so you don’t question it too much. Rather you comment, “I was actually wondering if you all just overpack for breaks. I mean I know Nat has extra clothes here in the house but I was wondering about the rest of you.”

“Peter is the only one who does the most,” Pietro says.

“Hey, I heard that!” Peter yells coming in to join the three of you. You turn to Pietro and ask, “Then what do you do?”

“He used the same underwear after he showered,” Peter explains. You and Wanda make a face of disgust and Pietro makes one of irritation. Peter runs off upstairs when Pietro starts chasing him, “Don’t tell her that!”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you tell Wanda, who agrees with you. Then you motion for her to follow you into the little laundry room. You show her how to work the machine. She throws her clothes in and follows your instructions. Once the machine gets going, you decide to tease her now that you are alone. “It’s just underwear, Wanda. Pietro was right. No need to be shy about it when I’ve seen it both on and off you.”

She starts blushing again. She hides behind her hands and groans, “Ugh, I should have asked Laura.”

You continue on anyway, “In fact, I remember one instance where you were enjoying when I tugged them o-” You were cut off short by Wanda’s hands covering your mouth. “Stop talking.”

Your laughter is muffled but it’s there nonetheless, finding Wanda’s coyness endearing. She defends herself, recalling a story about you, “You are one to talk, Miss Purple Boxer-Briefs.”

You grab hold of her wrists, removing her hands from your mouth in order to speak. “Hey, that’s different.” You walk forwards, making Wanda take steps back until her back is against the wall. “I was not planning for anyone to see me in those. I was just taking one for the team, thinking the house was getting robbed.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Wanda giggles.This time it’s you saying, “Oh, be quiet, Maximoff.”

“Make me, L/N.”

You sputter in surprise, eyes widening at her words. Hers stare right into yours, challenging you to make a move. And she has the audacity to have a smirk on her face as if she wasn’t madly blushing about dirty underwear a few minutes ago. Where the hell did that girl go?

“Are you just going to stand there and look at me a-”

You surge forward and kiss her hard. Wanda can’t help but smile at getting her way, making it a little hard to kiss her. So you take the moment to break it and ask, “Hey, who told you my last name?”

“The same asshole that gave you this.” One of her hands between you moves up to caress your bruised cheek. “Does it still hurt?”

She prods at it, making you flinch back. “Ow, only when you poke at it.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes, pulling her hand away from your cheek. Her bashful face makes you chuckle. You pull yourself together to ask her a question. “Okay, serious question,” you start, and it’s too cute how Wanda pays close attention to what you say next. You’d think she’d know better by now. “Does it make me look badass?”

“Y/N,” she more or less groans your name in annoyance as she gently shoves you. You’re a little off balance but you quickly grasp her elbows to pull back into her space. “I’m serious. ‘Cause if I look stupid, I’m pretty sure I could will my cells to work overtime to heal it faster or something.”

She laughs at you, muttering, “You are an idiot,” and pecking your lips between each word. You hear giggling, only this laughter isn’t coming from the beautiful woman in front of you. No, this giggling you know too well comes from a certain little critter who you now see has potential to go into her father’s line of work with how quiet she can creep up on someone. 

Wanda actually shoves you off this time, going to stand behind you to put a physical barrier between her and the intruding child. You clear your throat, smiling at Lila. “Hey, Lila. Did you need something?”

“Why were you kissing Wanda? Is she your girlfriend? Are you going to have a baby now?” She shoots one question after question rapidly as if she didn’t ask them all at once she would forget them. The first two are valid questions but the last throws you off so far you don’t know where you are. It throws Wanda too, so much so she’s basically choking behind you.

“Woah, okay. Umm, I was kissing Wanda because I think she is very pretty and nice and that’s just a way you can show someone that you think that about them, with their permission of course,” you rush in to add about consent. Your niece and nephews will grow up learning to be a decent human being. You continue on to her other questions. “But no, Wanda is not my girlfriend and we are not having a baby?”

Your last answer comes out more as a question, mostly due to your confusion as to where she got that idea. Wanda comes out from her hiding space to stand by you. From your peripheral vision, she looks amused at seeing you struggle to answer the six year old’s questions. Looking at your niece, she seems to be as confused as you, but you learn it’s due to something else. “Why isn’t she your girlfriend? Did you ask her?” 

You hesitate to answer, really not knowing where to start. Wanda is less amused and more interested now, crossing her arms over her chest, creating a barrier between her heart and your next words that she thinks will inevitably hurt to hear. Lila doesn’t give you the chance, however, continuing to her next question that makes you scoff. “Does she think you’re ugly?”

“I’d hope not.” You turn to look at Wanda, who holds a hand over her mouth trying to cover her giggles.

“Oh, maybe she doesn’t think you’re funny, like Aunt Nat says. Maybe she doesn’t get your jokes.” Lila tries to help, but little to her knowledge, it just makes you want to dig your own grave, especially when you can see Wanda is nearly losing it trying to hold in her laughter.

“Yep, you know you might be right. That must be it,” you agree to appease her. She grins at you, proud of herself for finding an answer to her question, which reminds you, “Why did you think we were having a baby?”

“Because that’s how babies are made,” she says, without a doubt in her mind, which reasonably has you questioning, “Who told you that, critter? Because they definitely lied.”

“Mommy said so,” she says almost defiantly as if what her mom says must be the truth and who were you to make her start questioning her mother now at six years old. You are also not ready to have that conversation, the conversation between you and your cousin where she yells at you for taking over the birds and bees speech that she probably had meticulously planned for a specific time in her children’s lives.

“Aaaand, your mom’s right. Yep. Wanda is basically pregnant now,” you say without thinking. Lila’s eyes go full moon round in excitement as squeals in glee. She practically runs out of the laundry room probably to tell god knows who about the news. Wanda gasps in disbelief beside you, smacking your arm. “Why did you say that?”

“Well, what did you want me to do? Be honest with the child?” you say as if honesty would be the worst thing to bring into that conversation.

“Yes, exactly that,” Wanda says plainly.

“Okay, well unless you want to deal with Nat on your ass about us unnecessarily stressing my pregnant cousin out with talks about baby making with her six year old, for the next however long Lila remembers, you are pregnant with my child.”

Wanda hangs her head in defeat after you put that image of an angry Nat in her head. There are worse things than being fake pregnant with your crush’s baby. She sighs, “You’re paying child support for this kid.”

You smile at her quip, retaliating with, “Not without a paternity test!” She shoves you as you both exit the laundry room and you chant, “Maury! Maury!”

“We are not naming the baby Maury,” she says and runs into you when you stop abruptly to turn around and question her, “Wanda, do you not know who Maury is?” 

When she shakes her head no in confusion, you grab her hand in excitement, “Oh, my god, let me teach you a little bit about American culture,” and drag her with you to watch some episodes of the show.

You only get to watch one with her, leaving her with your cousin to watch more as you go back into the kitchen to finish moping as your cousin so kindly (not so kindly) reminded you to do. Those baby hormones really were kicking in. 

You return to see Pietro and Wanda eating up the show. “I knew it! I knew he would be the father,” Pietro yells excitedly from where he is on the floor looking back at his sister. “Did I not guess right?” She nods and he turns back to the television to watch the guy run off the stage as the cameraman chases after him.

Laura can’t stop yawning so you suggest she go take a nap. You help her up to her room and tell her to rest up, that you had everything under control. She teases as you shut the door, “Just don’t go around impregnating more women while I’m asleep.” 

When you go back downstairs, Sam, Nat, and Clint are making their way through the front door with everything they bought. Sam and Clint set the box with the crib assembly in the middle of the living room. Nat carries some bags and says there are more bags in the car. You head outside throwing an “amateur” towards Nat who rolls her eyes knowing you are referring to your silly one trip from the car to the house rule. 

The rest of the evening goes to arranging the hospital bag and getting all the baby things in order. Nat and Wanda assemble the crib, Nat insisting she do it after Pietro rushes to assemble it with a “tada!” only for it to fall apart when Nat throws a pillow onto it. Wanda is just excited to do it and Nat trusts her to follow instructions unlike her brother. 

Everyone just watches, but Lila who tries to help handing the women whatever they need. As most excited six year olds do, she talks everyone’s ears off about the things she is going to do when her baby brother comes. “Oh! And he can have playdates with Y/N and Wanda’s baby. We can have tea parties every summer. Maybe not tea, cause tea isn’t very tasty and it’s too hot for that. Maybe we can have ice tea instead. What do you think, Wanda?”

Everyone in the room looks confused; most of the confused gazes are looking to you for an explanation and before anyone could say anything, you mouth “Don’t ask” while shaking your head. Wanda indulges Lila, though she blushes through it trying to look unfazed, “Yes, ice tea is nice. Or maybe lemonade. Can you pass me that small piece over there?”

It comes out perfectly, much to Pietro’s chagrin. Now the problem no one thought about- how to get it upstairs into the room. Sam and Clint carry it up the stairs trying to follow Nat’s instructions, attempting to turn it at the right angle to get it up the second flight of stairs. They clearly do not understand what Nat’s aim is here, Nat’s frustration growing by the second. Wanda gets a sense of deja vu but she can’t recall where she has seen this, until you laugh and as if reading her mind fill in the blank yelling, “Pivot!”

Satisfied with figuring out where the scene is from and not wanting to see Nat explode, Wanda uses her magic to take hold of the crib and brings Nat’s vision to life as she rotates the crib at the correct angle. The red mist lifts it the rest of the way upstairs.

“Thank you, Wanda. It seems you’re the only competent person here,” Nat huffs. She turns to the two men on the stairs, “Well, don’t just stand there, expecting Maximoff to do everything. The crib goes in the room with Laura.”

She storms up the steps shepherding Clint and Sam the rest of the way. You hear the laundry machine beeping, so you go give that your attention with Wanda on your tail. After her clothes begin to spin in the dryer, you stop her from getting any further than the kitchen remembering to give her your beautiful creation.

“Wait, Wanda, before I forget. I have something for you.” You pull the photo strip turned bookmark out of your pocket and hand it to her. She takes her time looking over the pictures on the strip from the time at the arcade, especially the third in which you are kissing her cheek. You gesture for her to look at the back and she rolls her eyes upon reading your message. Wanda appreciates the gesture anyways.

“You made me this?” Wanda asks, surprised. 

You nod, “Made or more so laminated it for you. Or rather for future me who will be happy to know she saved another book from you dog earring the ends of its pages.” 

You chuckle when she pushes you in jest. “Hey! That is a lot of judgement coming from someone who does not read.”

“I don’t have to be an avid book reader to know book etiquette,” you declared. 

“Book etiquette?” She raises an eyebrow up in question.

“Yes, there are rules to how you treat books, same as there are rules to everything,” you answered. “Like returning a borrowed book in the same condition.”

“And one of the rules happens to be not to bend the corner of the pages?” she asks, disbelieving.

“Hey, I’m just trying to do you a favor here. Wouldn’t want you to get bullied in book club or whatever. But if you are just going to disregard the rule and not use the bookmark,” you reply, reaching for the bookmark, “I can just take it back.”

“No,” she objects immediately, pressing the photostrip against her chest. She pouts, “You already gave it to me. You can’t take it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you assured her, laughing at her childish antics. Wanda looks at it once more, smiling, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek. With rosy cheeks adorning her face, she thanks you. “I love it, really.”

Red really is the color for her, you think. That is until you find green giving red a run for its money the next evening.

Sam drove you, Wanda, and Pietro to one of the two bars in town in Nat’s car. It took about half an hour of begging from Sam’s part for Nat to give up her keys, but not without threatening his life if he were to even scratch her car. You couldn’t blame her, it’s a pretty nice car. 

You and the three Avengers walk into the bar. It sounds like the start to a joke and it almost feels like it could be with the way the night starts. It’s a Friday night so there is a crowd but it’s not too bad. You’re still standing around the front entrance and you wonder why no one has made the move to go further into the establishment. Turning to the other three, you notice their eyes sweeping the place. You quickly realize what they are doing. 

“Would you all relax? We are here to have fun. No need to act like you’re on a mission,” you remind them. Sam scoffs, “Uh, speak for yourself. This man is on the hunt for some sugar.” The rest of you three roll your eyes at him as he keeps scouting the area. His eyes befall on the pretty bartender. “And spotted. First round is on me.”

Sam walks up to the bar with swagger to his step. The three of you look for a place to sit. Pietro notices a booth open up and using a little enhanced speed, swoops into the booth, calling you and Wanda over. You talk amongst yourselves while Sam chats up the bartender. He comes over with the drinks smiling to himself. Wanda teases him, “Look at you all smiley. Did you get her phone number?”

“I’m still working on it, but I know it’s working,” he says confidently. “So hurry up and finish your drinks so I can go up and talk some more.”

He rushes you and chugs his drink in one go. You hate to be his buzzkill but someone has to remind him, “I hope you enjoyed that drink, Sam ‘cause that was your one and only for tonight. Or did you forget you drove us here?”

His face scrunches up and groans, “Noooo. Can’t Pietro drive? His metabolism works fast. It’s nearly impossible to get him drunk.”

“Did you forget what car we brought? The moves Nat pulled on me hurt like a bitch, and that was just her teaching me self defense. I can’t imagine what she would do if she finds out we let Speed Racer drive back.” You quickly turn to said twin, “No offense, Pietro.”

“You are all just a bunch of babies,” he responds, sipping from his drink. 

“Ugh, fine,” Sam concedes. “Maybe, I can work with this. I’ll be back. Same thing for everyone?”

After getting an affirmative, Sam is back at it. The three of you watch him flirt with the woman behind the bar. Sam points your group out to her and she smiles at you three while your group acknowledges her with awkward waves. 

A car alarm pulls everyone’s attention away; it’s Nat’s car. The three of you see Sam make a show of looking for the keys in his pockets when it’s clear to the group that he’s been holding them the entire time. That smooth bastard. The woman looks impressed.

Soon she serves up your drinks, Sam bringing them to the table, with a cocky smirk on his face. You, Pietro, and Wanda shake your heads at him his whole way back. “We see what you did there,” Wanda says. “That was very sneaky.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam denies. He takes a sip of his water as the rest of you grab your second drink. Pietro asks, “Very sad, using someone else’s things to boast. Tsk tsk tsk.”

“Keep it down. She doesn’t have to know that. Anyway, that car is a guarantee she’ll be looking this way,” Sam assures and he isn’t wrong. Wanda finds the bartender looking back at your group but much to her discontentment, she is zeroing in not on Sam but you. You don’t notice this happening. 

You are too focused telling some funny story Wanda isn’t really listening to, as she finishes her drink in one go. Pietro catches this from the corner of his eye, frowning at what has his sister looking upset. Ever so observant, he watches Wanda look at the bartender who seems to be staring at you and then shuffle closer to your side. 

His frown disappears, no longer worried but more so amused. He has always found it funny when his sister gets jealous. He’s seen it several times to know the signs- the furrow of her brow, the biting of her lip, and had it been a few years ago, there would be a dramatic exit. A dramatic exit would be overkill here so he guesses she’s substituted it for possessiveness. 

You welcome Wanda’s warmth as she sits closer to you. Sam and Pietro make their comments and jokes about the story you just finished telling. You sip on your drink, nearly choking when Wanda’s hand makes a surprise appearance on your thigh a little too high to be innocent. You try to ignore it and listen to Sam as he starts a story, but it gets a little difficult when she begins to move it. 

Sam asks you a question and as focused as you are when trying to answer, Wanda’s wandering hand makes you stutter a few times in your response. You chug the rest of your drink and Wanda takes that as a sign to get the next round of drinks.

“I’ve got the drinks this time,” she declares, pressing a kiss on your cheek before getting up and heading over to the bar. The little break you have away from her feels a bit of a relief. You were getting worked up under her touch and in public no less. You don’t know what’s got Wanda in this kind of mood suddenly, not that you would usually mind it unless it’s the alcohol. 

That’s the only real outlier here. If it is the alcohol, you’ll have to slow her roll down if only two drinks have her so handsy. You have to come up with a plan soon if that’s the case, because Wanda comes back, bartender behind her carrying a tray with shots.

Wanda takes her seat next to you as Sam’s point of interest for the night sets the shots in the middle of the table. Your eyes widen, counting the number of shots that end up on the table. 

“Damn, how much do they pay you?” you ask incredulously, knowing how pricey a single shot can be.

“And are they hiring?” the bartender jokes. Everyone but Wanda laughs. “Are we celebrating something tonight or just having a night out?” She asks the table but ends the question looking at you for the answer.

“A little bit of both. They’re going home soon, so,” you explain. You have all her attention now, her body turning to face you. “Oh, so you’re from here. I haven’t seen you around?”

Wanda slowly grows irritated, feeling the woman talking is overstaying her welcome at your table. She reaches for a shot, throwing it back, trying not to make a face as the liquid burns her throat. 

You frown at Wanda’s actions. Pietro snorts and Wanda throws him a glare. The bartender is still waiting for your response so you answer, “I don’t actually live here. I stay with my cousin during my breaks from school.” 

“What school do you go to?”

Wanda clears her throat, annoyed, “Don’t you have to go back to the bar? We wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Sam speaks up, “There are two other people back there. I’m sure they’ve got Bethany covered.” So that’s the name of the woman unknowingly grinding Wanda’s gears. Wanda is disappointed to see Sam is correct. 

She drinks another shot and the moment Pietro has been waiting for arrives when she gets up suddenly claiming she has to go to the restroom. Bethany tries to help and point them out to her, but Wanda quickly cuts in with, “Thank you, Bethany, but I think I can find my way to the restroom just fine.” And then she stomps off. 

Finding her behavior odd, you decide it best to go follow her and make sure she’s okay. After answering Bethany’s last question, you excuse yourself from the table and head in the direction Wanda left. The restrooms are easy to find, a glaringly obvious sign pointing to them. 

Wanda splashes water on her face at the sink, trying to cool herself down. She can’t help the thoughts running through her head, thinking that Bethany was probably sitting in Wanda’s place by your side, grabbing your arm as she laughs at something you say. She knows these thoughts stem from jealousy and there is no need to tell her that she doesn’t have the right to be jealous when you agreed to be friends.

If Wanda wasn’t irked enough, there are no paper towels to dry her face with. Now she’ll return to the table with a wet shirt. “Stupid bar can’t refill the dispenser,” she mutters, pushing the door open with the side of her body, her hands preoccupied lifting the bottom of her shirt enough to pat her face dry with it. 

She bumps into somebody outside the restroom doors. She lifts her face from her hands to apologize only to be met by the person who has got her acting this moody and you aren’t looking at her face. Your eyes are busy appreciating Wanda’s exposed tummy. Wanda flushes as she drops her shirt, making you redirect your eyes. Embarrassed at being caught, you clear your throat. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I actually came to check on you.”

“Why? I was only gone for 2 minutes,” she asked, though she was happy to note that you were here waiting for her outside the restroom instead of entertaining the bartender sitting at your group’s table.

“You left kind of abruptly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and not like throwing up,” you reason. You pull Wanda away from standing in front of the door to the restroom when someone tries to get through.

Wanda chuckles, continuing on with your conversation. “Do you think I am a lightweight or what?”

“Well I hope not. You did just buy a bunch of shots and it would be a damn shame to let them go to waste,” you remind her. She smirks at you. “You have some catching up to do.”

“Lead the way.” You step aside motioning for her to do just so. Wanda shakes her head, but smiles nevertheless, taking your hand and tugging you behind her. Wanda is happy not to see Bethany at your table but back behind the bar when you both take your previous seats. 

“There they are!” Pietro shouts excitedly, waving his hand in the air before smacking it back down on the table rather clumsily with an “Ah”. Tipsy Pietro was rather adorable. How did he get like this anyway? Looking back at the table, you find your answer.

“Holy shit, dude! Did you drink all of these yourself?” You’re worried he’d have to get his stomach pumped. He reads the expression on your face and reassures you. “It’s the only way I can get, umm, Wanda?” He turns to ask his sister something you don’t understand, asking in Sokovian. She answers, “Tipsy.”

“Yes! Tipsy. But I left you uh,” he counts the remaining shot cups that still have liquor in them, “four. Perfect. Two for each of you. Now hurry, I want to play billbards, bill-billboards. Pool,” he finally decides. He pushes two shots towards you and the other two towards Wanda.

“Oh, no. Y/N has to catch up.” Wanda pushes one of her drinks to yours, lining them all up neatly. You shake your head at a smirking Wanda. You sigh, “You’re really going to do this to me, huh?”

“Yup,” she affirmed. Then Sam got the three of them to chant your name, making others in the bar look your group’s way. Not wanting people staring, you hush them, “Okay, okay. Geez. I can see why Clint hates that.” Then you drink all three, one right after another. You do make a face. “Oof.”

Wanda drinks hers and then the four of you wait by the pool tables for one to open up. You spend the next hour laughing with Sam and Wanda at a clumsy Pietro. You are just as bad as a tipsy Pietro when playing pool but tipsy Wanda doesn’t care, insisting you teach her how to properly line up her shot. Tipsy you isn’t remotely embarrassed when Wanda completely misses hitting the ball with your guidance because your body is busy feeling something other than shame having Wanda pressed against you as she is. 

Sober Sam is getting bored. Bethany is busy behind the bar doing her job, more patrons filling up the joint. A few minutes later, Pietro is practically sober; his coordination comes back and he doesn’t find playing pool as fun anymore. Also, he’s growing tired of watching his sister basically grind her ass on you every time it’s her turn. 

Pietro ends the game five minutes later. “I’m tired. Let’s let some other people play.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reject the idea, handing his pool stick over to someone else saying his group can have the table. He and Sam head to the restroom but not before telling you two to be ready to go.

There is a pout on Wanda’s face that you find just too cute and you let her know so. “You are so adorable,” you tease, pinching her cheeks. Wanda sends you a glare that looks in no way threatening with her cheeks aflame, making you laugh. “I’ll get us some water. Wait here for Pietro and Sam.”

You head over to the bar counter. You grab Bethany’s attention and ask for some water. “So why was your girlfriend upset earlier?” She asks as she goes to fill up two cups for you.

“Huh?” you ask confused. She repeats herself leaning over the bar in order for you to hear her more clearly. “Your girlfriend,” she nods in Wanda’s direction. You turn to see Wanda watching you two closely. “She looked pissed off earlier.”

Bethany hands over the two cups of water. You didn’t need to but you clarify anyway, albeit a little awkwardly. “Oh, um, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Does she know that?” The bartender smirks at you. You’re confused and tell her so. She rolls her eyes at you. There is no way you could be so oblivious. She does find it cute that you were so focused on your “not girlfriend” that you didn’t see the way she was interested in you. She takes pity on you and clarifies, “She was totally acting like a jealous girlfriend earlier.”

“No, she wasn’t,” you deny, the idea sounding totally absurd to you. But with the way Bethany sounded so sure, you can’t help but begin to question the possibility. “How do you know?”

“I see these things all the time. Reading body language becomes a skill when you work at a bar. Trust me.”

Bethany sees you still doubting her so she proposes something. “Here. I’ll prove it. Do you mind if I touch you?”

You look at her confused but give her permission anyway. She reaches over and runs her finger up and down your forearm. You watch her move and feel more so lost when she throws her head back in laughter. “Okay, what are you doing?”

“If she is jealous, like I say she is, she will do one of two things. She will either come up here and act all possessive or she’ll storm off like she did earlier to the restroom.”

“I don’t know,” you say, unsurely, already pulling your arm away. You are not one to want to play emotional games. Before you have a chance to tell Bethany that, she says, “I should have put some money on it.”

You feel an arm slide around your waist. Wanda comes up beside you and pulls you into her. You are a little startled to be honest, especially when she kisses your underjaw making sure to give Bethany a good view. Wanda catches Bethany giving you a cocky smirk and it irks her. 

“Piet and Sam are waiting for us,” she reminds you. You don’t say anything, your mind still trying to process that Bethany is right and Wanda might just be jealous. Bethany sees the realization glaze over your eyes and rolls with it, pushing Wanda’s buttons. “Oh, you’re leaving already? Well if you ever want more conversations like these,” she writes on a piece of paper behind the bar and hands it over to you folded, “here.” 

Wanda is nearly grinding her teeth at this point. The audacity of that woman to give you her number while Wanda is with you is amazing. Though Wanda knows she’s not with you- with you, clearly the woman would think Wanda was something to you given the way she is wrapped around you. And if that wasn’t enough to piss her off, the way you say “Um, okay?” before pocketing the piece of paper is. 

“You know what, we’ll just wait for you in the car,” Wanda huffs, pulling away from you and storming off to Pietro and Sam. You watch her go, ready to follow but Bethany calls your attention once more. “And there is number two. What are you standing here for? Go. She’ll only be more upset the longer you take.”

“Thanks?” You leave it at that, not knowing what else to say and make your way to the exit. Bethany watches you leave with a shake of her head, mumbling to herself, “She’s gonna eat her alive.”

You reach in your pocket to read the note the bartender gave you, opening the door with your back. Wanda, who is leaning against the hood of the car, watches in jealousy as you laugh at the contents of the note. 

Sam asks, “What are you smiling about?”

Wanda answers for you, tone dripping in discontent, “Getting the number you couldn’t get.” 

“What?! Let me see!” Sam rips the paper from your hand. Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance and gets in the backseat, slamming the door closed. Her brother shakes his head in amusement, but follows sitting in the passenger seat instead. 

“Come on, let’s go,” you hurry Sam along. You go around the car to open the door opposite the one Wanda slammed and take a seat. Wanda is already not looking at you, instead looking out the window, which you find pointless because there is nothing to look at seeing as there is another car parked right next to her. She’s just getting the view of their window. 

“Wanda,” you say, trying to get her to look at you. “Wanda.” She still ignores you, so you press, “Are you really not going to talk to me?”

“I’m not in the mood. Why don’t you talk to Bethany? Seemed like you liked talking to her. Now you can call her,” Wanda responds, voicing Bethany’s name in an obnoxious way. You try not to snicker but Pietro doesn’t. Wanda kicks the back of his seat, getting in trouble with Sam as he enters the car to see just that. 

“Hey, knock it off! I don’t need Nat busting my ass for something I didn’t do,” he warns and points at Wanda, who huffs but leans back, crossing her arms in irritation. He continues, “Also, if you want me to laugh at your jokes, make them make sense.” 

He throws the paper to your lap. You read it once more and laugh to yourself. Sam is about to start the car but you stop him. “Wait! Before we go, Sam, can you do me a favor real quick,” you say as you pull out a five dollar bill. “Can you go give this to Bethany?”

“So is this like an inside joke or something?” Sam takes the money anyway and heads back to the bar. Pietro asks, “Can I see the paper?”

“Why? You want to have a shot with her too? Clearly she was interested in Y/N, Pietro,” Wanda mumbles. You hand over the paper to her brother while rolling your eyes at her behavior, trying not to smile. 

Pietro reads it and laughs louder than before. Wanda takes off her seatbelt and leans forward to snatch the paper from Pietro’s hands. “Okay, what is so funny? ‘Five bucks she says my name in a mean voice’.” Wanda’s voice trails off in the end out of embarrassment realizing that the note was about her. 

“Hell yeah! I told you I would and I did. I still have the moves.” Sam barges into the car excitedly. “Look what I got!” He waves around a piece of paper in front of Pietro’s face. 

“Her number? Nice,” Pietro says, pretty impressed.

“Yep. She said ‘Here, for if you’re ever back in town,’” Sam tries mimicking Bethany’s voice. Turning to you, he adds, “Oh and she also said to tell you she told you so, whatever that means.” 

“Wanda knows what it means,” Pietro jokes, making you chuckle and Wanda punch him in the arm.

“Alright, alright. Chill out and put your seatbelt on,” Sam tells Wanda. He turns on the car and begins the drive home. “It’s a good thing we’re leaving when we are. Another drink in you and we’d have to pull you out of a bar fight.”

Wanda does as she’s told without another word. In fact she stays silent for the whole ride back, not because she was annoyed like earlier. To say she’s embarrassed is an understatement. It’s one thing for her brother to tease her, throwing remarks he finds oh so humorous her way. She’s used to that from her twin. It’s another thing for you to match his energy, laughing at his jokes and having the same knowing smirk on your face. 

Of course Pietro would know when she’s jealous; they’re twins. Pietro acts the same exact way when he’s jealous. Wanda just wasn’t ready for someone else to pick up on it, especially not the person for why she felt the way she did. 

It is humiliating and that’s why she vows to deny, deny, deny if anyone brings it up, which of course you do because life hates Wanda and won’t let her have this one thing. 

You bring it up after you get home. Wanda tries to rush out the car but you hold her arm, signaling for her to stay in the car. You tell Sam and Pietro to go ahead inside without you, that you need to talk to Wanda in private. 

Sam jokingly “oohs” and rolls down the windows a bit before turning off the car. “This seems like a long talk. I wouldn’t want you ladies to suffocate under all the tension,” he quips. 

Wanda looks at her brother for help and he almost stays seeing the dread on her face, but then he thinks about how this could be new ammunition for teasing her later and makes his decision to go. “Sorry, Wands, but she said ‘in private’.”

“Since when do you respect privacy?” she challenged, ticked that her own blood would leave her to die of mortification for his own amusement. 

“It’s never too late to try new things,” he reasons. He follows Sam to the house, laughing because Wanda shouts out of the car window, “Try not being a traitor next time!”

Wanda’s attention finally turns to you when she hears you giggling. Wanda sits as far away from you as she can, her back practically against the car door. Your laughter dies down, but you still sport a wide smile on your face, irritating her to no end. She crosses her arms and tries to keep her composure.

“What did you want to say?” She feigns innocence, hoping the conversation will take a different route than the one she feels it’s going. However, much like life you won’t let her have this.

“You know, I guessed you could be the jealous type given you telling your brother to stop flirting with me and the other way around, but damn, that was something else,” you tease, finding satisfaction when Wanda’s cheeks burn red.

You let her splutter for a minute, but then take pity on her when you see she can’t find the words to defend herself. You scoot close enough to her that your knees are pressing against hers. “It’s okay, really. Usually, I would find jealousy unattractive but there is something about green on you that I like. It really brings out your eyes.”

Your hands move forward to push some of her hair away from her face as if to see her eyes clearer. Wanda finally finds her voice, scoffing, “I was not jealous,” but she allows you to keep your hands on her face.

“No, of course not,” you reply sarcastically, smirk taking permanent residence on your face. You pinch her cheek to annoy her. 

“Only insecure people get jealous,” Wanda huffs and pushes your hands away. 

“Everyone has their insecurities, Maximoff.”

“What do you have to be insecure about?” she asks like you would be the last person to have any insecurities. 

You lean your side onto the seat. “Plenty of things. Like, no one ever taking me seriously. I hide a lot behind jokes. Sometimes, I don’t even know if I’m being serious or not and that makes it really hard to communicate with people.”

You look away from Wanda who begins to uncross her arms, the earlier tension on her body from self preservation dissipating with your confession. Instead, you focus on your hands, fingers tracing the stitched lines on the leather seats. 

You continue with a sigh, “Not to keep reliving the past, but it seems like it’s all I ever really do, I think maybe had I worked a little more on that, maybe Skye and I wouldn’t have ended like we did. Maybe had I shown I could be, I don’t know, more serious, someone you could not only have laugh with but someone you could confide in, have honest talks with, be a shoulder to cry on, then maybe she wouldn’t have seen me as a distraction and maybe we, I don’t know. I’m just rambling now.”

It gets quiet in the car. Wanda watches your hands continue to trace the lines on the seats. You look up at her when she clears her throat, ready to speak. “Vision broke up with me with the excuse that heroes are meant to be alone and I try but ever since he said that I can’t help but think he has a point.”

“Why do you think so?” you ask. Much like you finding something else to focus on, Wanda begins fidgeting with the rings on her fingers before replying, “It’s just that after we broke up, everyone left me alone. They were trying to give me my space, I guess but all it did was make me feel lonely.”

You reach out to stop her fidgeting with her rings which only half works. When you hold her hand, her other one comes to start playing with your fingers. “As embarrassing as it was to have you see me crying, I’m glad you stayed with me that first day,” Wanda whispers, almost like it’s a secret.

You smile and joke, “You were crying? I would have never known if you didn’t just tell me.” You succeed in making her laugh, as she tells you to shut up, but you continue teasing her. “Now the puffy eyes and runny nose make total sense.”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me,” she pulls her hands away from yours to cover her face. She mumbles behind her palms, “I probably looked so gross.”

You chuckle at how wrong she is, remembering that day. You pull her hands away from her face and respond, “Quite the opposite. I was wondering how someone could look so pretty crying.”

Wanda narrows her eyes at you and accuses, “Liar.”

“Honest. Then I thought how inappor- inaporpiet,” you struggle to say inappropriate so you rephrase, “how it was wrong to think that while you were crying. Sorry, the alcohol is still in my system.”

You continue through Wanda’s giggling. “And it’s your fault I’m not more sober right now!”

“What? How is this my fault?” she questions, still smiling.

“We didn’t get to drink the waters Bethany so nicely served us because you got jealous and stormed out,” you recount, watching the smile drop from Wanda’s face and a frown replace it. 

“I was not jealous!” Wanda still denies, much to your amusement. She tries to pull away her hands but you keep a heavy grip on them.

“Incredible. We just had a whole ass conversation about insecurities and you still can’t admit you were jealous,” you laugh when she denies it again with a pout on her face that you attempt to kiss away, pulling her into you. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mumble with a smile against her lips. She lets out an irritated sigh and leans back into you to finally do something about wiping that knowing smile off of your face. 

Wanda’s lips on yours, you both forget what either of you were trying to prove as you lose yourself to the feeling of having her pressed against you. You are both a mess, still slightly inebriated, but not so much that you don’t know what you are doing. You are well aware that you are in Nat’s car and she would kill you if she were to find out what you were doing in the backseat. 

You take the chance anyway thinking it would be worth it. Remnants of alcohol in your system and watching Wanda take her shirt off will do that. Hands are everywhere, stripping off clothes, so you don’t know who does it but the car horn sounds and makes you both stop in panic. 

“Shit,” you both whisper, out of breath. You turn to look at what could have caused the noise and see your shoe on the driver seat. One of you had thrown the shoe at the wheel. You both look towards the house. The lights were still off. You don’t think you woke anyone. At least, you hope you didn’t.

“Maybe no one heard?” You tell Wanda who looks at you with a ‘you can’t be serious’ look. There are five members of the most renowned team of heroes on the planet in that house. One, if not all, heard the horn.

Your phone chimes. Wanda gives you an ‘I told you so’ look as she pulls out your phone from your pants that are halfway down your thighs. Her heart stops in her chest as she sees the text is from Natasha. She shows you and you cover your face, not wanting to read whatever death threat is on there. 

“Read it for me. Maybe coming from you, I might not have a panic attack,” you beg. She opens the text and reads aloud, “ ‘I expect the car to smell of nothing but lemon scented disinfectant wipes tomorrow’ followed by two exclamation points and the red angry face emoji.”

You let out a sigh and remove your hands. “That doesn’t sound too bad. I don’t think she’s that mad.”

“Wait,” Wanda holds up a finger, reading off of your phone, “she’s typing.”

Your phone chimes incessantly. Wanda begins reading off, “Okay, girl with hand up emoji, ladder emoji, window emoji, person in bed emoji, oh, um.” Wanda’s eyes widen at what she now realizes is Nat threatening you through emoticons. “I am going to stop reading now so you can sleep tonight.”

You groan but take the phone to read through the little story Nat created. “Although I am fearing for my life, I have to give it to her. This is very creative and it sends shivers down my spine.”

You toss your phone onto the passenger seat. “If this is my last night, let’s end it right,” you say before dramatically sweeping Wanda in your arms and moving her to lie down as best as one can in the back seats of Nat’s car. She giggles as you nearly stumble to the floor due to your pants. 

“Stupid jeans,” you mutter, swiftly taking them off and moving on top of Wanda who is still giggling. You quickly shut her up. 

You wake up in the back seat of Nat’s car with Wanda in your arms. You feel three things at once: Wanda’s breath tickling your neck, the warmth of sunlight seeping through the car windows, and the beginnings of a headache. There is a loud screech that does nothing to help soothe the mild hangover. It wakes Wanda up as well. She voices her annoyance out loud, her morning voice husky. 

“Ugh, what is that? Y/N, make it stop,” she demands, burrowing further into you as if that will somehow make it stop. Coincidentally enough it does stop, but before you can relax, you hear voices arise. 

Wanda’s brows furrow and she tries to move away from you to see who could be coming to visit, but with the arm you have around her, you yank her back down into you.

“What are you doing?” you whisper yell.

She looks at you in confusion. “I’m seeing who it is.”

“Maybe that can wait once we’re fully clothed,” you suggest, pointing out the fact that all either of you have on are underwear and your shirts from last night. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, just stay still and hope they don’t peek in the car,” you command. The two of you stay quiet as the voices pass by. From the sounds of it, they come from two women.

“Oh, calm down! That landing was not that bad. It was way better than last time!” one of the women exclaims. Her voice sounds way too familiar, but you are too busy holding your breath in order to not get caught to actually try to place it. 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Daisy. Wait, who let you fly it before?” the second woman asks, the end of her sentence sounding far away hinting at them approaching the front door away from the car you and Wanda currently hide in. 

You hear knocking and then the front door opening. You think you hear Nat’s voice say something that sounds like “oh, fuck” but you aren’t too sure. You and Wanda only get up when you hear the front door close. 

You both hastily redress into yesterday’s clothes. Peeking out the window, Wanda notices a jet outside that definitely was not there last night and seeing as there are no other cars around, she can only assume it belongs to the two women which makes sense after hearing that one of them flew it. 

She sadly puts two and two together. These are the agents that would pick them up to take them back to the compound. You also pieced it together, “They’re here early.”

Wanda notices you sound a little peeved at that but you collect yourself. “Come on. Let’s go see what that’s about.” You give her a quick kiss before you exit the vehicle, holding the door open for her to step out. 

Wanda has half a mind to pull you back into the car, wrap back up in you, and never let you go, although she knows in the end it’s not you that’s going but her that has to leave. She’s just sad that her ride is here so soon and that she had to wake up to it after a night like last night. 

Last night was what felt like a wake up call for her. Lying in your arms, she began to wonder what she was even doing with you anymore. You make her feel like no one else has. She might have denied it all night, but she can be honest with herself. She knows she was jealous. She has never been jealous about anyone before and maybe because she knows she has no claim to you, in other words any reason to be jealous, she realized she wants to have a reason. She wants the right to be jealous. 

You stand there patiently waiting for her to step out of the car. Once she’s out, you fix her hair for her. “There. Maybe not Sister Wanda but I didn’t leave any marks for you to be DJ Wanda either,” you joke, trying to pull a smile from Wanda.

You do, but you find it odd that she doesn’t whack you or anything for teasing. “Wow, no violence after making a joke like that. Are you feeling okay? Did the alcohol not hit you until right now? Are you somehow drunk?”

“No,” she rolls her eyes at you. “I thought we had a rule about not hitting you.”

“Oh, so now you remember the rules. It only took you til your last day here to remember them,” you chuckle, closing the door behind her. You begin walking toward the house but when you reach the porch you feel Wanda pull you back. You look at her with questioning eyes.

Wanda decides to finally voice all her thoughts and feelings that she has been keeping to herself once and for all. “About those rules-“

“Robin Hood?”

Wanda is cut off by that familiar voice you couldn’t place before but you couldn’t mistake it now especially given that nickname. There was only one person to ever call you that. You didn’t have to look to know who it was but you and Wanda both turn to see the last person you thought you would ever catch in Westview County standing on your cousin’s porch.

“Skye?”

______________________________________________________

Dun, dun, duUuUn

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin​ @musicinourlips​ @paumxmff​ @wandamaximoffsrings​ @yeetus-thyself​ @lostandsearching​ @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2​ @gingerbreadcookieforlife​ @myfavoriteficss @cyberbonesworld

[fruitcoops]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another fic involving jules and coops together? Just like sweet moments between the three? I loved the baby sitting series you did and could not stop thinking about it❤️❤️ Thank you!!

Yeah, of course! I love writing my boy at any opportunity. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but the relatives are my ocs!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sirius asked under his breath as Remus finally—finally—appeared from the mass of people.

“It’s fine,” Remus said around a forced smile to a middle-aged man across the yard.

Sirius hid his mouth by pretending to look down at the nearest casserole dish. He didn’t even know what was in it; nobody had bothered with labels, and everyone’s dishes were the same basic florals in different colors. “I love you, Re, and I totally get the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but this is a bit much if I’m being honest.”

“Honey.” Remus’ shoulder pressed against his own. “I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, but my Aunt Jen would skin me alive if I didn’t bring the man I’m marrying to the family reunion. We can leave tomorrow if you really hate—oh, no.”

“Remus!” a shrill, excited voice called. Sirius felt his fiancé straighten up as a tall, redheaded woman in star-painted jeans hurried across the grass with three other women in tow. She reached up and gave Remus’ cheeks a squish, then leaned in a planted a lipstick-stamped kiss to his forehead. “How are you, my duckling? Was your flight alright? Make sure you stay away from the salt or else your feet will swell.”

“Hi, Aunt Jen,” Remus said, grimacing a little at her rib-crushing hug. “I’m doing well, and our flight was fine. How are you?”

“Peachy keen,” she assured him. Dark brown eyes lasered in on Sirius half a second later and he felt his fight or flight kick in. “And who are you?”

“Aunt Jen, this is—”

“It was rhetorical, honey,” Jen interrupted with a pat to Remus’ arm as she stepped closer to Sirius and immediately hauled him in for a hug. She was as tall as Remus, but broader in the shoulders and hips; he had never felt so engulfed by someone. It was a strangely enjoyable feeling.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” the shortest of the group cooed, as if she was talking to a particularly small dog in a purse. “Our Remus always knew how to pick them.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Aunt Lisa, this is the first boyfriend I’ve—”

“But he’s not just a boyfriend!” Jen trilled, giving Sirius’ cheek a pat. “He’s a fiancé, something I learned from your mother. Not from your father—oh, I gave him a talking-to about that—and not from you, duck.”

Sirius bit back a laugh at the nickname and spared a glance to his left, where Remus had gone pink all the way to his ears. “Sorry.”

“Introduce us!” the shortest insisted, taking the other two by the hands as pulling them forward with an eager smile.

“Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my fiancé.” Remus gestured between them, and the four women beamed at him. “Sirius, this is Aunt Jen, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Mary, my dad’s sisters.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sirius said, holding a hand out.

“No need to be so formal,” the brunette grumbled with a teasing grin. “We have heard so much about you from Lyall. After those damned pictures—”

“Allison,” Jen hissed.

“—after the damned pictures,” Allison repeated with a pointed look. “I was about ready to drive up to Gryffindor myself and give that lousy son of a bitch a piece of my mind—”

“Allison!”

“—but Lyall talked me down and I have been waiting to meet you ever since.” She finished with a soft huff and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Remus is a lucky boy to have you. It’s very exciting to see you in person at last.”

Sirius’ heart gave a happy little ka-thump and he smiled. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“He is so polite,” Lisa said to Remus out of the corner of her mouth with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Good choice.”

“You know what I just realized? We haven’t said hello to Jules yet. We’ll see you in a few, yeah?” Without waiting for an official answer, Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist and practically carried him away from the table. Once they were out of earshot—and the aunts had busied themselves with one of the younger Lupins—Remus relaxed with a slow exhale. “I am…so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I had no idea they were going to corner you like that. I mean, I did, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another few hours. They tend to move in a pack at reunions, like sharks. Or wolves.”

“They’re really sweet.”

“They are,” Remus said grudgingly, though Sirius could read the affection dripping off him like his favorite book. “My dad’s the youngest of five, and I was the first nephew. You can imagine how that went.”

“Baby of the baby?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask one thing?” Remus nodded, visibly confused, and Sirius found he couldn’t keep his grin down any longer. “Duckling?”

“I hoped you didn’t hear that,” he groaned as they headed toward the kids’ play area beneath a large oak. “Long story short, it involved five-year-old me, a pond, and a sinus infection that made me sound like a duck when I sneezed.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius laughed, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “And the name stuck?”

“Considering she was the one that had to stay with me while my folks were working, she could call me whatever the hell she wanted. Please don’t ask her about it unless you want a thirty-minute TED talk about the ins and outs of my sinuses.”

“She’s a doctor?”

“No, she just overshares.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up and saw a herd of small children racing toward them, led by his favorite person under the age of eighteen; Jules crashed into his legs and squeezed him tight around the waist. “Hey, I missed you!”

Jules propped his chin below Sirius’ sternum and stared up at him with the classic hazel-gold eyes that were far more common than Sirius believed before they arrived in the Lupins’ backyard. “I missed you, too! How’s the team? How’s Harry? Is he still super small or did he do that weird thing that babies do where their legs grow and the rest of them still looks normal? How was your flight? Did you have turbulence?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Good, also good, growing normally, and yes.”

“Sweet! Come play cornhole with us!” Jules grabbed his hand and dragged him along the grass at the closest thing he could manage to a sprint with Sirius’ added weight—the pre-teen years had lent him gangly legs, though he didn’t seem quite sure how to use them yet. He looked more like a foal than a sixth-grader.

“What the hell is cornhole?” Sirius muttered as the flock of kids ran ahead to grab armfuls of beanbags.

Remus grinned. “Something I’m about to kick your ass at.”

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

By the time the sun set, Sirius was exhausted. He had been introduced to dozens of people who looked just enough like Remus to be eerie, as well as plenty who seemed to have been acquired by one Lupin or another over the course of their life. Jules fluctuated between laminating himself to Sirius’ side and disappearing for an hour at a time, only to return more grass-stained and rumpled than ever as he begged Remus to swing him around by the ankles again. His ass had been thoroughly kicked at cornhole and freeze tag; it was a true miracle he hadn’t already passed out into a food coma. For all of his earlier griping, Sirius couldn’t think of a time in recent months when he had been more content.

“You’re a brave soul,” Remus remarked as they sat in the grass together and watched the fireflies wake. Though it was a warm night, it seemed the citronella candles littering the tables were doing their job of chasing off mosquitoes.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. He smelled like grass and summertime and sunbaked warmth. “Am I?”

“Mhmm. I’m sure most people would have run screaming by now.”

“I like your family.”

A beat of silence passed; Remus rested his temple against the top of Sirius’ head. “I’m really glad to hear that. They’re weird and loud, but I love them.”

“And I love you.”

“Are you saying I’m weird and loud?”

“On occasion.”

“Asshole,” Remus laughed, giving him a nudge that hardly qualified as more than a gentle sway.

“Language, there are eight million kids around.”

“They’re busy.”

Sirius watched as small group run by in a wave of giggles, all clutching mason jars of fireflies with their names written on masking tape. “Thank you again for asking me to come with you.”

“Like I said, Aunt Jen would—”

“Remus.” He fell quiet. Sirius didn’t remember the last time he said Remus’ full name aloud. “Your family loves you so much. They’re everything I ever wanted growing up, and it means the world that you wanted to share them with me. All they want is to see you happy. It was amazing to finally meet them.”

“They really, really love you,” Remus said softly, his voice a little thick. “I had about twenty people tell me how wonderful you are. They all thanked me for bringing you, and not a single one mentioned the celebrity thing. Even my Uncle Jay didn’t say a word about hockey.”

“He was the one in the jersey?”

“I’ve known him for my entire life and I’ve never seen him without one.”

“Huh.” Sirius tucked his face closer to Remus’ neck and let the sound of the bullfrogs in a distant marsh lull him. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. The adults will be up for a while, but the kids will start crashing soon.”

Footsteps on the cool grass rustled to their right and Sirius looked up. “Who wants pie?” Aunt Allison singsonged, breaking their quiet bubble with paper plates and utensils. “This one is blackberry, but we have peach, pumpkin, and a few others on the table if you’re still hungry.”

“Just a small piece, please,” Sirius said.

Allison paused and cocked her head, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re funny!”

“I am?”

“Don’t fight it,” Remus whispered.

“You are a growing boy,” Allison said as she cut a thick slice and plonked it onto his plate. “And there’s no such thing as too much pie.”

I’m 26, Sirius wanted to say, though he held it in. “Just a small one for me, as well,” Remus said.

“Ha!” Allison snorted. “You’re already too skinny. Eat your pie or you’ll end up a string bean like your father. The NHL might have given you muscle, but it’s useless if you don’t enjoy some of your favorite aunt’s—”

“—woah, hey now—”

“—pie once in a while.” Allison kissed the tops of their heads once both plates were secure and bowing in the middle. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t poking around in the river again. Sleep well, you two.”

Sirius stared down at his plate as she wandered away. “I’m honestly going to die if I eat this.”

“Yeah, please don’t make yourself sick on pie. You really don’t have to eat all of that. The aunts and uncles are convinced that none of us are eating properly once we turn eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I wish I was kidding. You’re going to sleep so well tonight, though.”

As if on cue, Sirius stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and cuddled under Remus’ arm again. A familiar shadow bounded over not two seconds later and he barely held down a groan. “Hey, can I join you?”

Remus shrugged. “ ‘course.”

“Sweet.” Jules settled himself across their laps, staring at the sky with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. “Did you have fun? I’m really glad you could come.”

“I had a great time,” Sirius answered honestly. Now please move on so I can take a nap.

“Mom and dad and me got here yesterday, and Aunt Jen kept checking the door for you guys even though she knew you weren’t coming until today. She was worried you wouldn’t like us, I think.”

“That was never an option, Jules.”

“Yeah, I know.” A devilish grin flickered over his face. “Remus is the weirdest of all of us, and if you want to marry him—”

“Get off,” Remus grumbled, shoving Jules’ legs onto the picnic blanket. “You know, you were a lot nicer before you turned eleven. Can I return you and get a new one? I have the receipt somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“That’s all a birth certificate is, right?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “If you bring it back in good condition, I hear they give you a ten percent discount.”

Jules scowled. “That’s so not true.”

“How do you think I got Regulus?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Remus asked with a pointed look. “Run along, problem child.”

“Of the two of us, I’m the least problematic.” Despite his words, Jules clambered to his feet and dusted his hands off over Remus’ head. “I’m not the one that got a secret boyfriend and got engaged in a year. I’m so easy. Mom and dad want two of me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Remus sighed as he stretched out on the blanket. “They had a second kid because they wanted two of me.”

“You’re adopted.”

Remus cracked one eye open in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because—y’know what, go to bed. Or go find the stampede, I think they’re by the river.”

Sirius whistled lowly as Jules scampered off again. “That was impressive. Isn’t your aunt over there?”

“Yep.”

Realization clicked into place. “She’s going to make him go to bed.”

“Yep.”

“You’re brilliant.”

Remus smiled without opening his eyes, and tugged Sirius down by the sleeve to lay next to him. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The stars were brighter than anywhere Sirius had ever seen; for a moment, he was struck speechless by the endless rivers of sparkling white overhead. He stared until his eyes burned from dryness, then put his head on Remus’ chest and kept on looking. There was no way he could tear his gaze from it. A few shooting stars streaked across the clear sky and he felt his heart skip a beat in pure amazement when he realized there was nothing else he would wish for in that moment. He could listen to Remus’ heartbeat and the sound of his new family talking against a backdrop of the night, relishing in a full belly and cool wind, and simply stay there for as long as he liked.

[byunbaekby]

title — a clouded fate pairing — badboy!mark lee x female reader featuring — lucas wong/wong yukhei, johnny seo, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta (mentioned), lee donghyuck (mentioned) word count — 17.2k   overall warnings — extreme drug use, drug dealing, alcohol use, language, religion, addiction, drug overdose, vomiting, one explicit smut scene smut warnings — fingering, protected sex (stay safe, always!), high sex, corruption kink for like 0.2 seconds, degradation collab — bad boy bingo collab, link here lyrics inspiration — “call it quits, call it destiny.” bruno major, easily ; “gotta stay high all the time, to keep you off my mind.” tove lo, habits writing playlist  — link here

author’s message — oh my gosh, it’s finally here! this has been a work in progress basically ever since early summer, when i started writing on this blog. this is one of my favorite pieces i’ve ever written, but not because writing it came easy to me; quite the opposite. i scrapped and rewrote this three times, consulted many people for their opinions because i simply didn’t think that it was good. a few thank you’s: my babe @jensungf​ for reading the first draft when it was at barely 5k, the lovely @ncteaxhoe​ for reading it at 7k and also the night i finished it, @taempteng​ the writing god for proofing it for me, and my amazing @starlit-jeno​ for getting me through everything. also thank you @legendnct​ for hosting this collab! it’s finally at a place where i am happy and very very proud of what i’ve written. i hope you all read and enjoy!

—DAY ONE.

The ice cold water thrown over him shocks Mark awake from his post-high sleep. 

“What the hell, man?” He exclaims, wiping the water from his face as he sits up in his bed, soaked t-shirt sticking to the curve of his clavicles. His eyes meet the source of the intrusion: his roommate and best friend Lucas, holding a now empty pitcher. 

“Dude. It’s past noon. Wake up.”

Lucas’ passive words only make Mark furrow his eyebrows in annoyance. “Shut the fuck up bitch, I’m awake.” 

“Someone’s feisty today.” Lucas retorts, tossing Mark a towel as he swings his legs over the bed. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he recognizes his best friend’s chastising tone in his diluted ears. “When did you get back last night? What were you doing?”

“Calm down,” Mark groans, the volume of Lucas’ voice beginning to hurt his head. Running a hand through his now wet hair, he responds, “I was smoking with Yuta. Got back around three in the morning.” 

“Yuta,” mumbles Lucas. “You know, I don’t like him. You’re always with him, getting high or something. Exams start soon, and you’re not planning to study at all? You’ve been high every day for what, like, the past two weeks?” 

This early morning lecture is enough to cause Mark’s irritation to spike. Since when is Lucas so nitpicky? Last time he checked, Lucas enjoys partying just as much as he does. Sometimes, even more than Mark himself. “Fuck, are you my roommate or my mom?”

“I’m your best friend, is what I am. I’m worried about you. All you do is party, get high, and sleep. When was the last time you even ate?” Before Mark can even think back to answer that, Lucas continues, “You’ve been like this since you broke up with Y/N, and—”

Mark cuts him off. “Don’t say her name.”

“You’re hurting, Mark. And this isn’t the right way to handle it.”

“Oh, so you take one psychology course and you think you’re an expert or something,” Mark scoffs.

This seems to stunt his roommate for a second, before he sighs looking down at the image of his best friend sitting on the edge of his bed, gaunt eyes and all. The last time he saw his friend looking so pitiful was when his dad had passed. “I’m just worried about you. You should let me be, sometimes,” replies Lucas quietly. 

“I’m an adult,” says Mark, which causes Lucas to scoff and respond, “Then act like one.” Annoyed, Mark stands and instead takes a seat at his desk chair. 

The taller male speaks up once again, starting to tear off Mark’s bed sheets that are now wet. “You need to stop. This isn’t good for you. Stop the drugs and tell Johnny you’re done. Study for your finals. Get your act together, stop acting like an idiot, and go get her back.”

When he finishes stripping the sheets and looks up, Mark’s head is in his hands. “It’s not that easy.” 

“You love her.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re meant to be together,” Mark finally says as he looks up, voice raised in frustration at both the situation and the fact that his best friend is calling him out for it. “We can’t be together,” he declares. “I’m only going to ruin her. She’s good. I’m bad. She has a future. I don’t. She’s everything I’m not and I can’t mess it up for her. Not after... Not after—” Lucas cuts his friend off, sensing that he’s about to start hyperventilating. 

“I know. What happened, you can’t change it. It was your fault. But don’t say you’re not meant to be together. Nothing’s going to change the past. You broke up. But nothing’s going to bring you back together but yourself.” 

Mark stares at Lucas with tired, red-rimmed eyes, wondering when his tall goofy friend had grown so much. Has everything around him changed, matured, while he stayed the same?

“How do I do that?” He finally relents.

“Make yourself good enough for her. Start with the drugs. Stop doing them.” 

He knows the truth in that statement, but doesn’t want to acknowledge it. It’s a lot easier said than done. With no words to say, Mark stands and starts to walk past his friend toward the bathroom. On the way out, he accidentally kicks his guitar, on the floor propped on the wall. “Fuck,” he curses, looking down at the old wooden thing. 

Lucas follows him out as he leaves the room, and Mark steps into the bathroom. Opening the mirror cabinet, he pulls out his prescription bottle which shakes with noise. Silently he pops a pill into his mouth and swallows it with a handful of tap water. It’s probably a bad idea on an empty stomach, but he’ll eat whatever Lucas is making right after. 

“That includes the Xanax, Mark!” Lucas’ voice calls from the kitchen. 

“Baby steps,” he responds, staring endlessly into the pitiful character watching him in the mirror. 

—THE FIRST NIGHT

It isn’t his first party, but it’s his first college party. There’s a big difference.

The scale is larger, the alcohol more plentiful. And more importantly, the shame of being under the influence is nonexistent. His ziploc of kush feels heavy in his pocket, but he knows he’ll feel lighter with its effect later on. School’s only been in session a week, yet Mark’s already decided he likes university more than high school.

He hasn’t smoked yet, but clearly others have, from the haze wafting from room to room. The music is loud, the air is musty, and there’s a cloud of visible smoke surrounding a group of people in the corner. He can smell it now, the familiar scent relaxing him in a new environment. 

He’s about to venture out to said group, catching Lucas’ ashy gray hair (a horrible decision, really) sticking out from its inhabitants, but then something catches his eye. 

In a room of dark gray smoke and purple LED lights, a white dress catches his attention. He turns his head and, faded by the blurred intensity of the smoke, there you are. Leaning with your back against the wall, alone. You’re not doing much, just standing there in your awkward lonesome looking entirely out of place while swirling the contents of your red cup in your hand. With seemingly no move to drink it, you’re staring blankly into said cup, and Mark stares blankly at you. The white fabric of your dress seems to vividly attract the iridescent purple lights of the party, leaving you to stand out in the massive crowd. Though from the way you stand out from the crowd, it seems that that’s the last thing you want to do; you’d rather blend into the scene. 

But you don’t. You’re a beacon of white light in the gray bleakness of the party, and Mark contemplates his next action. He had promised Lucas that he’d be his wingman to try and win over Yuqi. But there’s something about you that pulls him. 

Oh well, he muses to himself as he slides across the room toward you. It’s not his fault Lucas needs a wingman to talk to girls, and he doesn’t. 

“Hey,” he starts, trying to make himself heard above the music. “You’re staring at that thing like you need a refill.”

At the sound of his voice you look up as though suddenly startled. Then your eyes land on him and Mark’s not entirely sure if he’s sane, but you relax. “No thanks,” you respond politely. “I don’t drink.”

“Really?” Mark glances at his red Solo cup, half filled with some sordid mixture of vodka and Fanta that Doyoung had given him earlier.

“Is that strange?” You ask curiously as he makes move to lean on the wall next to you. Except rather than lean his back to it, he presses his shoulder to the wall to face you. 

“A bit.” Mark says as he tilts his head back, pressing the red cup to his lips as he downs the rest of the liquid in his cup. 

“Maybe. I’ve learned that there are more people who drink in college than people who don’t… I guess I fall into the second category.” When he finishes his drink, he tosses it over his shoulder. 

“Nah,” he says in response. “I don’t really drink either. Only occasionally. I’m already a mess with the weed, imagine how much I’d be if I was an alcoholic.” He nearly expects you to laugh at his lame attempt at being playful, but he’s met with silence. Still, he doesn’t miss the way your eyebrows quirk slightly upward at his words. Right now, dark hair tousled and dark ripped jeans decorating his legs, Mark thinks he looks pretty good. But you don’t seem to be as interested as girls in the past. 

“You smoke…” Your words trail and Mark finds himself enraptured by the form of your lips as you talk. His mind flies, but you continue, “How’s that like?” 

He shrugs. “It’s nothing, really. Just fun. I have some right now if you want,” he says, patting his jean pocket. 

“Oh, no,” you immediately recoil, as if it were preposterous. Immediately your eyes widen and you shake your head at him. “Not-not that people who do it are bad or anything! It’s just… not my thing.”

If you didn’t drink or enjoy any substances, what were you doing here? He asks this aloud. 

“My roommate dragged me,” you explain. “We’ve only been living together for a week since the year started but she’s… something else. I’ve seen her smoke more than I’ve seen her study.” 

You almost sound scared. This causes a laugh to leave his lips, and yours. He’s finding, in the mere two minutes of conversation you’ve made, that you are very different from the girl he thought you were across the room. You were indeed like your dress that attracted him: bright, pure, and comfortable. 

And he wants you.

Your silence brings about Mark’s introduction. “I’m Mark, by the way.” His hand stretches out to you and you stare for a second.

“Y/N.” You place your hand in his, and from the jolt he feels in his heart, the first of its kind, that is the first time that Mark Lee believes in the existence of fate. 

—FIVE HOURS CLEAN.

If someone had told Mark in his freshman year of high school that he would become a drug dealer in college, he would have directed them to his father’s church and told them to pray a bit. 

Yes, prior to his entrance to adulthood and the cruel, cruel world, Mark Lee was a church boy. A good boy. He did well in school, dedicated his weekends to church and playing basketball with his boys. Up and down the high school halls, his signature laugh could be heard at any moment he wasn’t in class. 

Then the summer before his senior year, Pastor Lee passed from cancer and Mark’s boisterous laughter became a long forgotten sound. 

It was two weeks after his dad’s funeral that he met Donghyuck, a boy with shady eyes who offered him some kush. Just want to try it, Mark had tried to reason with his conscience when he took that first hit behind the school. Then he fell into the fatal world of drugs and partying. Lucas had been there since their junior high days, sad to see his friend fall so poorly, and he had forced Mark to get his shit together for graduation that year. Barely.

So yes, he was once the bright eyed boy he always wanted to be, who read the Bible front to back and wouldn’t have known how to roll a joint, but that was fantasy. He wasn’t that anymore. He’s a college student trying to get along with the little money he can make from selling weed and other things. He had first gotten into this when he met Johnny Seo, two years above him who could tell that Mark was struggling to make tuition and rent with a job at McDonald’s. Now Johnny has graduated and Mark is still doing his dirty work for him.

That’s exactly what he’s doing now, standing outside Taeyong’s house a little past 6PM with a pouch of kush in his bag. 

It’s easy money, but that never calms his nerves. 

Even when the door opens to reveal Taeyong, shirtless and red hair in disarray, Mark doesn’t stop bouncing his foot in worry. His restlessness isn’t lost on Taeyong, who had obviously just woken up. “It’s 6PM,” Mark says, eyebrow raised at his appearance.

“I was up all night working on a track.” Taeyong’s eyes flicker to Mark’s bouncing foot. “You’re bouncier than normal,” he comments as he counts his bills in his hand. 

“Haven’t had my fix today.” Mark explains simply as the older male hands over a wad of cash. As he counts it silently, Taeyong points his thumb over his shoulder to his living room. 

“Wanna come in and hit some?”

Mark looks up at his offer and sighs inwardly. It would be rather easy to just give in and smoke a bit with someone he trusted, and he wouldn’t even be paying for the weed. He’s tempted. After weeks of being stoned nearly every day, he’s starting to itch for a fix. But Lucas’ gruff voice rings in his mind and he knows that if he gives in, only five hours in, he’ll never be able to live with himself. So for now he does it for Lucas, but maybe in time he’ll see that it was for himself after all. 

“I’m good.” Mark nearly shoves the pouch of green into Taeyong’s grasp, wanting to be away from it as soon as possible. The red-haired recipient only blinks.

“You’re giving it up or something?”

“Or something,” mumbles Mark sullenly, tucking his hands into his pockets. 

“That’s good,” Taeyong declares after a short silence. Mark looks up, meeting Taeyong’s suddenly sincere eyes. “Good for you. I really couldn’t believe that you got into that stuff with Johnny’s crowd anyways.” Mark only shrugs in response. He’d long since stopped deliberating over that. This is his life now. “Still doing music?”

“In name, yeah, I’m still a music major. But I don’t have time to play.” The last time he touched his guitar was this morning when he had kicked it. The last time before that… he doesn’t know if he can’t remember due to a marijuana induced haze or if it’s because it really has been that long. 

Taeyong continues. “You know, you don’t have to do this stuff. You’re a talented guy, you’re strong. If you could dedicate yourself to your music like you do to dealing, you wouldn’t need to deal.”

This brings about a sigh from Mark. Who is Taeyong to tell him what to do, anyways? Last time he checked, he was the customer, not Mark. “You all make it sound so easy.”

“Trust me. You can do it.”

—THE FIRST KISS

The first time Mark kisses you, it’s cold outside. 

He’s walking you back to your sharehouse, down the streets of town, when he asks, “Be honest with me and tell me if that date sucked.” 

It’s been a couple weeks since the two of you first met that fated night at Doyoung’s party, and you’ve only now allowed him to take you out on a date. He doesn’t know that it’s your first. Well, in some ways, it’s his also. 

Mark’s been on a few dates, sure, but those all ended up with him getting his dick wet in the dark parking lot of a Burger King or something. He’d normally take them out for fast food, and finish with the usual fun stuff in his back seat. This time it’s… different. Not only does he figure that you wouldn’t be down for that type of date, but something in him wants it to be different. The only problem is he doesn’t know how to plan a good date.

He still took you out to get McDonalds’, but instead of retreating to the backseat, he drove the two of you to the movie theatre. It was probably a dumb choice of him in hindsight, deciding to watch an action movie, but something about the way you hid your face into his neck when one of the characters got punched out made him smile.

“No, it wasn’t… bad,” you respond, swinging your interlaced hands. You had surprised him earlier when you had grabbed his hand upon exiting his car, curling your fingers together. 

“You’re lying,” he sighs. 

“No, I’m not. Really,” you reassure him as the two of you approach the door of your home. After all, how can you have a bad date when you’ve never been on a date before? You have nothing to compare it to. “I had a good time. Actually… it was my first date.”

Mark blinks, having not expected that to be so. A groan leaves his lips as his free hand comes up to run through his hair. “Oh god, and I ruined it.”

“No, no, it was perfect. I wouldn’t change it for anything.” You smile a sickeningly sweet, charming smile at him, and he sighs. You’re too good for a guy like him. 

He’s beyond surprised actually—even though you know of his habits, his hobby of wasting time and rolling joints, you haven’t run away like others. And he likes you. A lot. Even though everything tells him that what he does is bad for you, he still wants you. You’re a comfortable presence in his life. 

“You know,” you suddenly start. Mark looks up, intrigued. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He wonders if the surprise on his face is painfully evident. “Really? Like, ever?”

His question is met with a shake of your head, and he blinks. So you’ve never drank or smoked. That, he can believe. But the fact that you’ve never kissed anyone? Sometimes… you shock him with your boldness. Like earlier when you grabbed his hand and at your first meeting when you had asked for his phone number before he could. But in some moments like now, he realizes just how the duality of your personality comes into play. 

“Why’s that?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, it never really felt right,” you explain as the two of you approach your doorstep. As he escorts you up the steps and to your front door, he furrows his brows deeper. Why were you telling him this?

“Does it feel right, now?” He asks softy, gaze flickering to your interlaced hands as he turns to face you. His hand reaches forward, cupping your cheek, the touch soft despite the callused skin of his hands. 

“Yes,” you respond gently, simpering smile on your roseate tiers. 

The smile on your face is sweet and pure, two words that Mark isn’t.

A flood of relief shows on Mark’s face, and you bite down on your lower lip as excitement bubbles in your stomach. “Can I kiss you?” A response quickly follows. For some reason he can’t quite figure out, you let him into the maze that is you. Despite the leather jacket, his messy hair, and the lingering smell of weed on his clothes, you want him just as much as he wants you. Even though you both know that he isn’t the type of guy that you normally like, the type of guy that your mother would approve of, you trust him. It’s bewildering to him. 

Then he guides you to him. Within seconds his lips are on yours, and you melt into him. It’s surely not Mark’s first kiss but it feels like it. The initial awkwardness, then the heat on his cheeks as you both fall into a rhythm. It feels right, like it was meant to be, just as Mark had hoped. 

You’re like the kind of irreplicable drug that Mark has sought after for years. The kind that brings a euphoric high which burns his lungs and twists his stomach, but in all the right ways.

—29 HOURS CLEAN.

The smell filling the kitchen leads Lucas to scrunch his nose in distaste when he exits his room. “Dude, what the hell is that smell?”

His answer lies in the pan on the stove and Mark standing in the kitchen, wielding a wooden spoon. Clad in only basketball shorts, he looks absolutely foreign to the environment. Lucas sighs. “Please tell me you’re not boiling crack right here in our kitchen.”

The face the Korean makes is scandalized. “What—no, what the fuck? It’s mapo tofu. I’d be insane to try and make crack cocaine.” He adds under his breath, “In the apartment.”

Lucas leans back against the counter, cocking an eyebrow. “Then why are you cooking mapo tofu of all things? I haven’t seen you eat anything but ramen and eggs probably since we moved in here. And—put on a shirt if you’re cooking, or an apron at least. You look like a caveman.” 

“Well,” sounds Mark with a roll of his eyes at his friend’s expected lecturing. “I had a shirt on, but I spilled some spicy shit on it and took it off. And I,” he pauses, turning off the stove. “I thought we could eat your favorite food together before we head out to Hendery’s party. You know, as a… sorry for being a bitch yesterday apology.”

The taller man narrows his eyes, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to make sense of his best friend’s words. “So you… decided to make my favorite food because you felt bad that I had to wake you up and take care of your shit?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Lucas laughs, a deep sound, whilst shaking his head. “Dude, I’ve been doing that since middle school and you’re only apologizing now?”

Mark purses his lips, making a face of annoyance. “Better late than never.”

“I guess. But sorry, I wouldn’t want to eat your mapo tofu anyways. Smells more like my week’s laundry than food. Maybe next time just order from that Chinese place around the corner that I actually like,” advises Lucas.

A pitiful laugh leaves Mark’s lips. “Duly noted.”

“And anyways, I’m not going to Hendery’s party. I have plans.” This causes Mark to finally take a good look at his friend. He’s normally well-dressed, but tonight he looks even better, a little too fancy for the typical college frat party. Before Mark can even question what these other plans are, Lucas explains, “I have a date with—”

“Yuqi,” finishes Mark for him. “Figured.” Lucas grabs his wallet on the counter, nodding before tucking it into his pant pocket. “Is that why you haven’t been partying with us? Or why you’ve suddenly been on this, ‘Mark, sobriety is key’ rant?” Mark questions, lowering his voice to imitate that of his roommate’s. At Lucas’ silence, Mark scoffs. “Dude, your relationship is so fucked up, how many times are you guys going to try to make it work when it doesn’t?”

All that leaves Lucas is a sigh, but Mark continues. “This is what, your third breakup so far? And fourth time trying to make it work?”

“Some things are worth the effort,” replies Lucas easily, slipping on his shoes. As he reaches to tie his laces, Mark continues, “She takes up all of your time now, you haven’t hung with us in months, and all for a relationship that’s destined to fail.”

“Nothing’s destined to fail, Mark. It’s all about how hard you’re willing to work for it.” His voice is calm, but there’s something building beneath it. To this, Mark sighs, and says, “You’ve changed, man.”

Lucas grabs his keys, clearly at the limit with Mark’s prodding. “Sometimes people are worth changing for, Mark. Yuqi forgave me for what I did, and I forgave her for what she did. We’re trying, okay? We’re not walking away. I’m sure…” The taller male pauses on his words, as though contemplating them, before continuing. “I’m sure Y/N would’ve forgiven you for what you did, but you walked away. And that’s where we’re different.”

It hits him, and Mark tightens his jaw. Yes, his relationship with Y/N was destined to fail too, there was no denying it. To fight with his friend who he had just tried to make amends with, or apologize? He goes with the latter, only because he’s too exhausted for a yelling match right now. “Lucas, I’m sorry, okay? I’m a little… on edge.”

“I know. I’ve known you for years,” chuckles Lucas softly. “I know how you get.”

“Yeah. Have fun on your date, though.”

His best friend nods tightly. “Yeah, I will. But if you care about what I told you, don’t go to the party tonight. You know you won’t be able to control yourself.” Mark nods, sighing. “And throw out that mapo tofu while you’re at it. It stinks, and not in the good way mapo tofu’s supposed to smell.”

Mark rolls his eyes while Lucas’ laugh fills his ears. “Just leave already.”

With a few smooth movements he’s already slid out the apartment door. A sigh leaves him, alone in the apartment. He does as Lucas says, tossing his attempt at dinner in the trash. It’s gonna be a long night.

—THE FIRST TASTE.

The first time that you kiss Mark, however, it’s hot inside his apartment and sweat sticks the fabric of your tank top to your stomach. 

That doesn’t stop you from cuddling on his couch however, and you gaze up at him from your position under his arm to watch as your boyfriend, focused on the TV, lifts his blunt to his lips and takes a long drag. Underneath his arm, you observe how his lips wrap around the circumference of it, sucking in a sharp breath before releasing it into the air. He knows that over your time together, you’ve come to accept the smoking. It’s obviously clear to him that you don’t particularly approve, but Mark’s responsible enough to control himself. Now however, as you gaze up at him, you realize just how attractive your boyfriend is. Dark hair tousled and arms bared through his tank top, he looks so, so good. Somehow, he looks even better with the cig in his hand. 

You never would have thought you’d fall for such a guy like him, but you keep falling. He’s not the good guy that you dreamed of, but that’s okay, because you make him good. 

“Mark?” You ask, still looking up at him. 

He hums in response, turning to look at you. 

Your voice is soft as you ask, “Do you believe in destiny?”

Your boyfriend blinks at the sudden question. “Define destiny.”

“That like, we all have a predetermined fate. That everything happens for a reason, and every challenge is just a small piece in a bigger puzzle. That we all have soulmates we’re destined to be with.” Mark’s lips purse, pouting just the slightest in thought, a habit of his. 

Does he?

It’s a question, because he used to. He used to be a good old Christian boy, of course he believed that God had a plan for everyone. Every tribulation was just something that would make him stronger in the end. Unfortunately, the last time Mark can remember being at church, he fucked one of the choir girls in the Bible study room. 

He can’t really pinpoint when he stopped believing in fate. God? Yeah, sure he still believes in him, though the big guy upstairs will probably send him south for his irrefutable sins. But fate? Not really. If fate was real then it was really messed up to make him such a failure. 

But, he realizes, gazing at the strands of hair matted to your forehead as a result of the hot summer weather, and the pure adulation in your eyes as you gaze up to him, that perhaps because of you, his destiny isn’t too bad. Sure, he’s a fuck up with addictions and demons, but he does pretty well by keeping you happy. Because you make him happy. A smooth, suave smile spreads across his lips like butter. “I didn’t before, but I do now.”

Your eyebrow perks up. “Now you do? Why’s that?”

His arm wrapped lazily around your shoulders allows him to pull your face close. With the same smile, he presses a number of kisses to your cheek (much to your sweet protest, complaining about his sweat and smoke). As though he attempts to mask his words against your skin, he mumbles, “Because I found you.”

Mark has never told you that he loves you; it’s a bit too intimate for him, who’s never been vulnerable in that way, and you, whose every first is him. 

But he doesn’t have to say it, because you know it. 

Your lips break out into a flustered smile, though you try to hide it from him. His quiet, unsaid confession fills you with glee and more importantly, confidence. 

“Babe,” you tell him. This grabs his attention, because you rarely use such sweet nicknames. He attempts to respond, but you’re already sitting up and swinging yourself over to straddle his lap. Your movement brings about confusion on his features, and you take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in this position with him, but the first time you’ve made the initiative to do it yourself. Mark was always leading you. So you lean forward, placing your hands on his shoulders, and you kiss him. 

You can probably taste the smoke on your tongue, but you’ve grown accustomed to that. Mark kisses back and grips your waist with his free hand, both shocked and amused by your sudden courage. Everything feels right, it’s like it’s destiny. He’s about to slip his tongue into your mouth but you break the connection, choosing instead to linger your lips over his. Your breath is hot on his as you finally speak. 

“I want a puff.”

“Are you sure?” He looks up at you, nearly breathless at the sight of you atop him. Lip gloss smeared from your heated kiss, you look delectable. Your wide eyes, once depicting innocence, are now focused and curious. He knows you don’t necessarily approve of his habits, but here you are, sitting on top of him looking irresistible and asking for a taste. 

“Yes,” you confirm, as though reassuring yourself. Mark had always liked you, been attracted to you because of the notion that you were innocent, pure, bright. Everything he was not. He had never wanted to taint you, yet his confession still hangs in the air.

But as he lifts his blunt to his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the diluted smoke into your waiting cavern, he starts to worry that this would be the beginning of a long downward spiral which would place no blame anywhere but on him. 

—44 HOURS CLEAN.

The withdrawal forces him from his sleep at 5AM. 

Mark wakes in a cold sweat, itching for a fix. That’s when he realizes how deep he really is. 

Shit. 

His fingers are shaking, so he moves to occupy them with the only thing he can think of. He drags himself out of bed, grabs his guitar, and makes his way out to the living room. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a window, he attempts to refamiliarize himself with the strings that he had abandoned. Lucas is still asleep, so he plucks quietly. 

He has long since forgotten what it was like to lose himself in the sound. 

There was once a time when he was passionate for something other than haze. It was music. The first time he touched a guitar, magic sprung through his fingers and he knew: he was made for this. Somehow, majoring in music composition and being forced to take so many theory and history classes had caused his passion to simmer. Now, it slowly burns again. 

He doesn’t realize how the hours pass and the sun begins to shine between the blinds. 

His mind brushes over what Taeyong had told him two days ago. Is this what he had been missing all this time? All the hours he spent blinded by a foggy smoked haze, had he been neglecting his own love for music? It’s amazing what he can accomplish when he takes a break from that life. 

He starts to feel like the old Mark again.

For a second, he stops strumming and directs his gaze to outside the window. There’s not much to see except the college town, with the glimpse of the university itself just atop the hill, but he stares and relishes in the sight of the sunlight casting a glow over the town. 

A knock on the door interrupts his deliberations.

A glance to the clock tells him it’s barely 9AM. Who would be here so early? There are two options, he decides as he stands from the floor to stretch his legs, resting his guitar on the wall. It’s either Yuqi, Lucas’ renowned off-again on-again girlfriend, or Johnny coming to deliver the week’s set. 

When he opens the door, the visitor’s face is blocked by a box, but he knows those shoes. Those white ballet flats with purple bows were always your favorite. 

Suddenly the box lowers and Mark is finally face to face with you, his ex-girlfriend. He hasn’t seen your face in the months since you’ve called it quits, even though he’s spent countless moments just staring at the leftover pictures on his phone. You look surprised to see him. 

“Oh—Mark. Lucas said you probably wouldn’t be awake.” So you had been keeping in touch with Lucas? This is news to him. Had his best friend been sharing that he had been basically wasting away the past few months without you?

“Couldn’t sleep,” explains Mark almost sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. For a moment he’s glad he had the mind to put on a shirt before coming outside.

“Oh…” You trail, your gaze traveling down to the box absentmindedly. 

He doesn’t mean to be rude, but the surprise at seeing you on his doorstep makes him a bit gruff. You’re still the same as before: same face, same shoes, same bright eyes. But there’s something about you, about your aura that’s different. More mature. More independent. Because you don’t need him anymore. “What are you doing here?”

If you’re taken aback by his coarseness, you don’t show it. “I brought a box of your stuff. It’s just... stuff that was left at my house.” You gesture to the box in your hands, and Mark is quick to take it from your arms. He prays you don’t take note of the way his hands shake. 

Slowly he places it on the floor next to the door and when he stands again, you’re leaning back and forth on your heels looking rather awkward. He doesn’t ask for an explanation but you give one anyways. You had always had a habit of talking too much when you felt nervous. “I’ve had it since...” Your breakup, but neither of you want to say it. “I put it together a couple months ago but put off bringing it over. But I figured, uh, the school year’s over in a couple weeks so I should just do it. I texted Lucas, he said he’d be awake to grab it but..”

“He’s still asleep,” Mark completes for you. 

“Yeah,” you say simply. No longer having a box to occupy your hands, you hold them behind your back which only furthers the idea that you’re uncomfortable in his presence. It makes him sad almost, how much things have changed.

He thinks back to what Lucas had told him at the start of the weekend. Maybe it was possible to change things back to the way they used to be. “Do you want to come inside? I have some coffee, or some—”

You look at him with blinking eyes. “I don’t dr—”

“I know.” He knows you don’t drink coffee. Of course he does. “I have tea. It’s even peppermint, your favorite.”

“You drink peppermint tea?” You look at him, incredulous. 

“I don’t. It’s leftover from when I bought it for you. I just... haven’t thrown it out yet.”

That’s what your love had done to him: turned him from a brooding boy into a softened man, so much that he was willing to keep your favorite drink around just in case you’d ever come back and want it.

“Oh,” you sound. Your teeth bite down gently on your bottom lip, gnawing it in contemplation as you look away from him momentarily. When you look back, he can see you’ve made your decision. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mark. I’m sorry.”

He expected it, but it doesn’t sting any less. “That’s okay. I understand.” An attempt at a smile is displayed on his face, but it doesn’t reflect any of the radiance in the smile that you mirror back at him. It’s small, the tips of your lips barely lifting, but it’s enough to remind him that you are indeed all that is good in the world, and he needs you. He loves you.

Maybe he can’t love you right now but one day, he’ll be good enough to deserve you. That day isn’t today, but it’ll come eventually. “I’ll see you around,” you say to him.

“I hope so,” is his response.

You give him another small smile before turning to leave. “I hope you’re doing okay, Mark.”

He is, or he’s trying to. When you leave, he closes the door and returns the box to his bedroom before opening it up. Inside, numerous hoodies gifted to you because they became too small for him but were still huge on you. Old songbooks from his high school days that he no longer needed. A teddy bear he had gifted you on your first anniversary. 

Pushing the box aside, he grabs a notebook and his music theory textbook. Maybe it actually would do him some good to study. 

—THE FIRST TEAR.

“What the hell, Mark?”

You don’t curse often, so when you do, it wakes him. When you find him in his room, he’s knocked out with his body half on the bed and the other half slung over the edge. His hair sticks out in numerous fluffy tufts over his pillow, but you can still smell the weed off of him. 

“He only came back like, three hours ago.” He hears Lucas’ voice selling him out, and he groans into the pillow, only lifting his head to grumble at his roommate. 

“Snitch bitch,” he says, his voice groggy and scratched. 

“Don’t get mad at him,” you suddenly speak up. “At least he answered my calls when I was calling, worried where you were because you hadn’t texted me since,” you stop to check your phone. “5PM last night!”

“I told you, I was going to Johnny’s party,” responds Mark, sitting up in his bed, head still spinning. Rubbing his eyes, he sits up, looking rather disheveled and hungover. 

“Yeah, and you never texted me to let me know you were home. How would I have known if you had overdosed, or passed out drunk, or got in a car accident? Or just died?” As your voice rises, reaching a volume you’ve rarely ever employed, you clear your throat to calm yourself and turn to Lucas. “Thanks, Lucas. I appreciate it.”

“Any time,” he responds, giving a nod before walking away, likely disappearing into his room.

When you turn back to gaze into Mark’s room, he’s slipped on a shirt. “What the hell were you doing out so late? 9AM is when you should be waking up, Mark, not falling asleep. Finals are next week, you were supposed to meet me at the library an hour ago!”

He makes an annoyed expression at your chastising, and you gaze at him with expectant eyes, awaiting an explanation. All he does is grimace and say, “Babe, can you like, quiet down? I’m hungover, your voice is too loud.” 

Your jaw drops. 

For a moment you stay like that, until you continue speaking, words coming out faster than Mark can understand them. “I’m just trying to help, Mark. You’ve partied more than you’ve studied this year, and I’m not going to let you just get away with it. Almost every weekend I have to stay up worrying about you, wondering when you’ll get home, unable to sleep until you text me that you’re home and okay.” 

“Maybe you should stop worrying then,” he retorts.

“Maybe stop giving me reasons to worry?”

He rolls his eyes, laying back in his bed. “Maybe you should come with me then.”

You quickly reply, “Maybe you should stop partying.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to control me,” he finally spits.

Once again, you’re rendered speechless. And when you turn your head away, focusing your gaze to the hallway instead of at him, Mark thinks he’s won. But then you sniff, an indication that your sensitive heart has once again been touched with tears. “Please,” you finally say, voice weak. This is the timbre Mark is used to hearing from you, not the tone you had used earlier when yelling at him. In this moment, he’s not sure which one he hates more. “Please stop this.”

In a swift movement you reach forward, gathering yourself on your knees before his bed. You grab his hand, pressing your lips to it as a tear makes its way down your cheek. “Please, please, please… please stop the drugs, Mark. It’s made you this… this terrible person and I know you’re not like this.” Suddenly, you’re crying into the palm of his hand while he gazes at you in surprise. “Missing dates, staying out late, yelling, I know that’s not you.”

“Y/N—”

“Please, just call Johnny and tell him you can’t do this anymore. Tell him you’re done. Please, for me.” 

Your begging causes Mark’s jaw to tighten subconsciously. What you’re hoping for is a better Mark, a different person. He’s not that person that you want him to be, he can never be that way. This is how he is and how he’ll always be. This is his fate, to be a lowlife drug dealer barely passing college, and if you can’t handle it then—“You know I can’t do that. You promised you’d be here through everything, all the good and the bad.” 

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you destroy yourself like this, Mark.”

He rips his hand from your grasp, causing a slight squeak of surprise to leave your lips. It’s almost as if he’s not in control of himself, because he blows up. “Can’t you just be like a good girlfriend and love me through the bad shit? I’m trying my best here.”

But is he really? Suddenly, as though empowered by some kind of intangible strength, you rise to your feet, the sadness in your eyes now quickly replaced by anger. “I do love you, that’s why I’m acting like this, you asshole!” You wipe your tears furiously with the back of your hand before glowering down at him. “But if you can’t keep your mind sober long enough to see that then call me when you can.” 

He registers the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut, causing it to ring in his ears. Within the blink of an eye, you’re gone. Fate is a really messed up bitch for this. 

—1 WEEK CLEAN.

It’s been a week. 

A week since the last time he touched anything, though he had been tempted when Yuta invited him over for some sativa. The drinking and partying isn’t hard to let go of. It’s the weed, because it got him through the hardest days. 

A week in, and he’s pretty proud of himself. 

Nowadays, he tries to occupy his shaking hands with guitar or studying but he’s started playing so often that his hands are now raw and in pain. Today, because the weather’s nice outside and his fingers hurt like hell, he decides to take a walk.

It’s aimless at first, just exploring the streets around his apartment on foot. But then ten, fifteen, thirty minutes pass, and without knowing it, he’s arrived at his destination. Johnny’s place. Standing in front of the door, eyes boring into the bright red paint of the front door, Mark feels himself start to slip. No, he decides, he has to do this. This is the right thing.

A shaky knock on the door is followed by another stronger one. He waits a minute before trying again, yet as his hand lifts to place another knock on it, it slides open to reveal Johnny himself in casual wear. “Hey,” greets Johnny, giving Mark a nod. “What’s up? I told you I’d drop the next batch off at your place, you didn’t have to come out here.”

At Johnny’s question, Mark feels his breath caught in his throat. Not only is the guy taller than him and towering over him in every aspect, but he could definitely throw Mark under the bus for his own crimes. But no… he wouldn’t do that, right? He had done enough for Johnny over the past three years that he would let him off easily, surely? A gulp is heard in Mark’s throat as he straightens his position in front of Johnny. 

“That’s the thing. I… I don’t want to do this anymore.”

For a moment, Mark thinks that the taller man will be angry. Johnny stands before him, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“I just need to.”

Johnny immediately starts to argue, tilting his head. “You know you’re my best seller, though. No one sells as much as you, and I trust you with all the big deliveries. Who am I supposed to give the heroin to now… Ten? As if, Mark.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

“I…” Mark starts, though he stops. “I need to stop. I’ll finish the batch from this week, I promise. I only have like, two deliveries left but I just, it’s not healthy for me. And it’s not because I’m planning to sell you out or anything, or find someone else but I just can’t do this anymore.” He finds himself ranting, finding more interest in anything but Johnny’s face. “I’m not happy, I’m angry and anxious all the time, and being around the drugs only makes me want to do it more, and I just… I just can’t, John.”

When he finishes his unfiltered rant, he looks back to the taller male and tries to read his expression. Will he be angry? If his earlier debate was anything, he definitely wouldn’t let Mark off without a fight. 

But instead, the older nods. “I get it. Just finish your deliveries for this week and call it done.”

Mark blinks at Johnny’s easy acquiescence. “T-That’s it? You’re not going to fight more?”

“You want me to?” Johnny asks, cocking an eyebrow that’s almost mocking. 

“No, but I…” 

“Thought you’d be worth the fight?”

“No, that’s not it.” Mark shakes his head. “I just…”

“Mark,” sighs Johnny, standing straight from where he had been leaning rather casually against the doorframe. “I’m not stupid, okay? I know that drug dealing is hard for you. And I’m also not oblivious, I know that you and your girlfriend broke up, okay? Yuta told me what happened with the coke, and I wasn’t surprised when you refused to sell it anymore.”

Mark frowns even deeper at the mention of it, but Johnny continues. “I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you say it’s not good for you, then it’s not good for you.”

“But…” Mark starts, but doesn’t find the words to continue. It was… that easy. “Okay. Uh, thanks, I guess. For everything?”

“Sure. Just don’t come crawling back when you can’t make rent on your McDonalds’ salary. Male strippers make pretty good money, if you’re interested.” It’s clear Johnny’s joking, so Mark rolls his eyes and laughs, though the sound is somewhat tight. 

“I’d love to talk to you some more about ways to get a hustle going, but I have to go find a new dealer, and teach Ten how to stop giving weed to everyone he meets because he thinks they need a pick-me-up.” Johnny sighs, as though the life of a drug dealer is the most difficult of them all, which in Mark’s experience, it might just be. 

“Alright. Uh, later, John.”

Johnny nods in acknowledgement before shutting the door. Mark breaths out a heavy breath. 

That went… surprisingly well. Maybe Lucas was right, maybe it really was this easy all this time. Perhaps he had always just been the one believing that it was difficult, because he had made it so. He had been stressing over it all this time, but Johnny was more easygoing about it than he’d thought.

As he walks the path home, he thinks he deserves a reward for his endeavors. It’s a bit selfish maybe, but he opens his phone, and you’re on his speed dial. 

“Hello?” You ask, voice bright as always but clearly a bit guarded from the name that had flashed across your screen. 

“Y/N,” Mark breathes out. It’s only been a few days since you had swung by the apartment. 

“Hey, uh… what’s up?”

He doesn’t quite know either. He had quite honestly been a bit impulsive in pressing on your contact, and now that you truly rest across the phone from him, he has no idea what his purpose was. “Um, nothing much, I just wanted to tell you…” A soft breath leaves his lips. Will you be happy for him? “I told Johnny that I quit, that I’m done.” 

There’s a momentary pause on the line, and Mark begins to worry that you’ve hung up when you finally breathe out, “That’s good, Mark. I’m… I’m proud of you.”

Proud. He had only been hoping for a “good for you,” at most, but to hear that you’re proud of him, it makes him smile to the ground as he walks the trail back to his apartment. Fuck, you’ve made him weak. “Thanks.”

“I guess you really are doing well then,” you say.

When he gets home, riding the high of his successes from standing up to Johnny to calling you, he flushes his Xanax pills down the toilet and watches as they swirl away into oblivion, as if they had never existed in his life in the first place.

—THE FIRST CRASH.

Mark connects his lips to your neck and suckles on it softly, drawing a moan out of you. The sound you make goes straight to his dick, and he releases a breathy groan against your skin. “Fuck, you sound so pretty, princess.”

Princess—that’s the name he’s given you, because all he wants to do is treat you right. And he does, especially in times like these, where you feel the heat of his body on top of yours and he devours your moans in his mouth. 

He currently lays between your spread legs, your combined figure lost in his bed sheets as he softly grinds his hardened core against yours. He’s still got his jeans on while you’re laying only clad in your panties, yet the feel of the denim is enough to have you moaning. You tilt your head back as a light mewl leaves your lips, your body subconsciously grinding down on his. 

It had been complete heaven for the both of you when you had given him your virginity, your purity, at the beginning of this year, and since then you have been basically insatiable. You had never felt such desire for anyone before him. Now as his hands rub small circles over your clothed clit, you want him once more.

You’re shaking your head, so needy for him but he doesn’t relent, only smirking more while he continues rubbing sinful circles on your clit. “Tell me what you want.” He wants to hear your beg. 

Voice soft and breathy, you say, “Please, Mark, I—”

The doorbell rings. It’s heard through the apartment and Mark groans, rolling his eyes while attempting to keep you going. “Keep going. It’s probably just Lucas forgetting his key again.”

Though the mood was momentarily killed, you both try to fall back into place. Now his fingers have left your clit, instead pulling your panties down to your midthigh. “Shit, you’re soaking,” he moans out in amazement, running a finger through your wet folds. As much as he wants to dive in and fuck you until you’re cumming all over his cock, he needs to hear your sweet voice dripping dirty words for him first. Easily, he slides a finger in, to which you groan at the stretch. But it’s not enough. 

“Don’t tease me, please.”

He smirks, slowly sliding his singular digit out of your sensitive core whilst he thumbs your clit. “Go on then, princess. Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck,” you curse and he finds it so hot. “I… I want you to—”

The doorbell again. This time, Mark audibly curses. “Fucking hell,” he sighs, removing his fingers from where you need him. Instead, he moves up and places a sweet kiss on your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

He’s still fully dressed, so he simply opens the door and slips outside before closing it again behind him. As he’s walking down the hall, the doorbell rings once again, causing him to roll his eyes. God, how many times was Lucas going to lose his keys?

The person at the door, however, isn’t his roommate. It’s Johnny, holding a black gym bag. Mark already knows what it is. He runs a hand through his hair, already crazy from how you had been running your hands through it. “Hey, John,” he says, taking the bag clearly in a rush. It’s Sunday, which means Johnny’s dropping off Mark’s deliveries for the week. 

“Hey, man,” greets Johnny, handing over the list. Mark doesn’t even bother to check that everything’s there, so the older man raises an eyebrow. “Busy?” He asks, eyeing Mark’s disheveled clothes and the fresh hickey on his collarbone. 

“Kind of.” 

“Nice. See you next week,” says Johnny with a click of his tongue and a wink, then Mark closes the door and he’s gone. Now, back to what’s important. He slings the strap over his shoulder and makes his way back to his bedroom. As soon as he enters, you look up at him with wide, anticipating eyes. 

You’ve pulled your undergarments back on, much to his displeasure. Mark drops the dark bag on the floor in the corner, and your eyes find it. “Johnny came?”

“Yeah. Just dropping off for the week,” replies Mark, his mind not exactly on it as he takes off his shirt, tossing it somewhere. He moves back over your figure on the bed, lips on the curve of your breast fully intending to return things to the intensity they were at just earlier. 

Though his lips trail up to meet yours and his hands begin tugging your panties back down, he can tell from the way you’re kissing him that you’re not fully there. So when you moan his name, he knows it’s not out of pleasure. “Mark,” you say softly against his lips.

“Hmm,” he responds, callused hands gripping your thighs and leading them open. He’s about to slip his hand inside your panties, but your hand stops him. 

“Can I have some?” When he looks at you, your eyes are not focused on him, but the bag in the corner. Your eyes are faded, clouded as your both ascend to a place of pleasure. You… wanted drugs? Sure, he’s blown a few times in your mouth but in your relationship spanning over a year already, you’ve never directly asked for any.

His dark eyebrows furrow. “Are you sure?”

You bite down on your lip. “What’s in it?” 

“I don’t know,” reveals Mark truthfully as he gets off of you and makes his way over to the package, picking it up and placing it on the bed. You’re sitting up now, peering over the bag with interest as he unzips the gym bag open. Though the exterior looks unsuspicious, the bag opens up to reveal bags of white powder and green kush. 

Cocaine. 

It’s dangerous. Mark gazes down at it, biting down on his lip. 

“Is that… cocaine?” You ask, not unaware of the extreme drug sitting in your boyfriend’s room. 

He nods, almost ashamed. “Yeah.”

A silence falls over the two of you, both just staring at the white bags. It’s almost unbearable, how much Mark wants to throw the bag away and just resume your activities, but you’re still gazing into the bag with contemplation, fear, and even… curiosity. 

“So, can I have some?” You ask again. 

Mark sputters for a second, blinking. “Babe. I—are you sure?” 

You nod, eyes dark and curious. “Yeah.” At your confirmation, sounding like it was more to assure yourself than him, Mark stares holes into the white substance. It’s filling the bag to the brim—surely whoever he has to deliver it to won’t notice a line’s worth missing. 

So it’s with steady yet hesitant hands that he pulls a pack from the bag, directing you. “Grab your credit card,” he says, walking over to his nightstand. Unzipping the bag just the slightest, he pours out a small amount. Just a little bit, he swears. 

When you return to his side with your said card in your hand, he takes it from you and lines up the coke on the table. In a neat little line, it’s set up for you. “Okay,” he starts, looking at you. “Just hold down one nostril and—”

“I know how to do it. I’ve seen it at parties.” You interrupt him as you kneel, finally head level with the nightstand. It’s true; the few parties you have attended alongside your boyfriend, there’s more than enough depictions. He watches with interest as you lean forward, holding one side of your nose closed, and snort up the entire line in one go. 

First, you cough into the nightstand. When you turn and look at him, you’re wiping the remaining white dust from your nose. “You okay?” Your boyfriend asks you, to which you nod. “It takes a few minutes to work.”

Again, you nod silently, sitting down on the bed and gesturing Mark to come to you. When he approaches, you lay back in his bed, looking up at him with lustful eyes. “Now, hurry up and fuck me.”

The words are so rare from you. It’s all he needs to hear, unbuckling his belt and dragging his jeans to the floor in two swift movements. Within moments he’s back on top of you, feeling your heat once again. He starts slow, pressing kisses to your stomach, breasts, and neck while waiting for the drug to take effect. He knows the exact moment that it begins to work; your pupils immediately dilate, and suddenly you’re a loose, moaning mess underneath him. 

Your muscles relaxed, Mark immediately presses a long kiss to your swollen lips while dragging down your panties. He would usually opt for more foreplay, but he’s waited long enough. He pulls away for the shortest moment to slip on a condom, but before you know it he’s already flush against you again. 

It feels so good, even just his touch on you. You’re so sensitive, senses heightened by the drug that you feel everything: his large hands on your breasts over your tips, his lips marking your neck. When he leads his dick to your dripping entrance, you watch in anticipation, though you’re shaking. 

As he finally slides in, finally filling you up, you tilt your head back and let out a loud moan, the loudest yet. It just feels so good, you feel so full, and he’s so, so deep.

Everything is…. so good. Euphoria creeps into your headspace. 

He pulls out, and you moan again. “Ah,” you gasp sharply, feeling every ridge, every muscle stretched as he slides out, only the tip inside you. Then he slams back in, causing your back to arch and your toes to curl. “Oh, fuck,” you moan out again, eyes closed tightly, lost in the pleasure. 

Mark’s hand grips at your hips, eyebrows furrowed in focus as he falls into a rhythm. He would have taken some himself, but he wanted to watch you fall apart under him. Suddenly you grab at his free hand, and he intertwines your fingers. You’re squeezing him, his hand and his dick altogether, so tightly as you’re lost in your pleasure.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good,” he moans out, closing his eyes. He immediately opens them again, not wanting to miss a second of you. “You love my cock, huh?”

Breathless, you nod without words. 

“And to think, just a year ago you were an innocent little prude. Now look at you, taking my cock like the slut you are. High on my drugs, fuck—” Mark taunts, moaning aloud as you suddenly clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” 

When he adds his hands to your clit, rubbing the nub in circles the way he knows you love it, the pleasure is heightened for your sensitive body. Your temperature rises, your heartbeat uncontrollable—all the telltale signs of that euphoric high. 

A few minutes pass like this, you completely out of it and moaning at the top of your lungs whilst your boyfriend fades in and out of your vision. You grasp onto his arm, tilting your head back. “Mark, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he musters out, never stopping his hips. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are.” 

And you do, losing it as you tighten around his length, walls clenching repeatedly. This brings him over the edge, cumming into the condom with a shaky breath. He keeps the rhythm going for both your sakes, though his thrusts go erratic as he comes down. 

You do the same, your thirty minutes of elation coming to an end soon. As soon as you’ve come down from your orgasmic high, you immediately relax. Your breathing is labored as you relax into his sheets. 

Mark pulls from you with a low groan. By the time he’s tossed the condom off into the trash and returned to his bed, you’re already asleep, chest rising softly. A post-cocaine high can do that to you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as he slides into bed with you, slipping a hand over your waist. 

With the way your body fits right into his, one could say you were made for each other. In Mark’s mind, maybe you were. 

—3 WEEKS, 6 DAYS CLEAN

His hands shake as he curls the wrapping paper, giving it a soft lick to secure it. 

Tomorrow will be four weeks, a whole month since the last time he had done anything. He had passed his exams. After he had thrown the pills away, he was sure that everything would be smooth sailing. But he was wrong. 

He’s disappointed in himself, he is. He wanted to be better, but it’s harder than it seems. Lucas would be disappointed in him. You would be too.

Luckily, neither will find out. 

Right now he’s tucked in his bedroom away from Lucas with the excuse that he was napping, but he’s not. Instead, he’s wrapping a joint with the leftover weed tucked in his nightstand. 

It’s not because he wants to, or because he’s being peer pressured by anyone around him. It’s for one person only—his dad.

On this day, five years ago, Pastor Lee passed away. 

The first three years, the hardest ones, he had Lucas. The past two years, he had you.

No—the first three years weren’t hardest to face, this one is. He still has Lucas, but not really. Had he swallowed his pride, had he just told his best friend that he wasn’t okay when he had asked about his father’s death anniversary, things would have been okay. Lucas would have nodded in sympathy, then dropped everything he had to be there for Mark. They’d chill and drink a couple beers—no, not drink, not anymore—but maybe watch a movie and play some games until the day had passed. That would have been bearable. 

But that hadn’t happened.

When Lucas had asked Mark how he felt about the day, Mark had lied and blubbered out a, “Oh, was that today? I totally forgot.” Why had he done that? He doesn’t know. 

Because he had had too much pride to admit to his friend that he was struggling… Now he’s here, trying to take care of his pain in the only way he has left. 

He lights it, fingers still shaking, and his body relaxes into the mattress as he finally gets a taste of the clouded, sinful smoke once more. The only downfall to this is that he knows, oh he knows well, just how much pain that it causes for him and those around him. 

—THE FIRST BURN.

Over the years, Mark has grown accustomed to the warmth.

It’s what you do to him, what he associates you with. Your first kiss, despite the cold winter air, warmed his soul from the inside. Whenever he looks at you… there’s a feeling of espousement that explodes within his chest. Yes, he loves you, even if he doesn’t say it often. He doesn’t need to. You know. You’ve opened his eyes to the beauty of love, the exhilaration of showing yourself to someone and being fully accepted. In his life once frozen over with the loss of his father and the death of his innocence, you showed him warmth. 

When he wakes, you’re burning up. 

More than you should, even with the two of you naked beneath his blankets. You’re sweating, he realizes as he slides his hand, which he had slung around your waist as the two of you drifted into dreamland, over your skin. 

You must be hot underneath the blanket, so he starts to slide it off the blanket from your figures. Then he hears it: you cough, the choked sound coming out scratched and labored. Though you’re turned away from him, he can hear the struggle in it. It’s as if… there’s something blocking your throat. 

His eyes immediately widen, adrenaline spiking as he sits up, grabs your shoulders, and turns you around. No, no, it can’t be. Where you had been laying, facing the wall, there’s remnants of your vomit, though some had gotten lodged in your throat. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His fingers grab your wrist. You’re still breathing. You’ve still got a pulse, but it’s fast, too fast. So fast, he can barely count it. “Shit,” he curses. You’re overdosing. You’ve overdosed. Fuck. 

It’s the cocaine. 

“Y/N,” he calls, voice already loud enough to make the house burst into flames with the amount of desperation he puts into it. Shaking your shoulders, he tries again. “Y/N, baby, fuck—wake up!” When you don’t come to, he turns his head over his shoulder, screaming, “Lucas!” 

It’s only the early morning, will he be awake? “Lucas!”

“Mark…?” Your voice draws him out from his panic, and he turns to you with wide eyes. Your eyes, pupils dilated and shaky, fly all over the room. “W-What’s—” You don’t finish, because immediately you’re flinging yourself over the side of his bed and throwing up the remainder of what’s in your throat out on his bedroom floor. 

The door slams open. Lucas’ worried face appears. Mark is trembling, breath shaking, and you’re still vomiting over the carpet. At the moment, Mark doesn’t care that the both of you are naked in his bed. “What the hell happened?”

Mark feels himself start to slip away, only a moment from hyperventilating, but he speaks. “Hospital… cocaine—overdose, I—” 

“I’ll go start the car.” Lucas is immediately out the door, loud steps running down the hallway to grab his keys. At least somebody is in a stable state of mind. Mark starts to move, standing to dress the two of you, but you grab his arm as he steps out, perhaps using the last of your energy. Your eyes are wild, your mouth parted as you heave heavy, labored breaths. 

“I… I can’t breathe—Mark, I can’t,” you start between hurried breaths, but don’t finish. Immediately you go slack, falling back in his bed with closed eyes rolled into the back of your head. 

“Fuck,” he curses, immediately throwing on his jeans and sliding your dress over your sweltering body. Though he’s stumbling and racing to gather things, his phone, his wallet, and your’s, he picks you up into his arms bridal style, racing out of his bedroom into the living room. 

Flying out the front door, the cold morning air greets him in an unpleasant fashion, only making your perspiring body seem even warmer, reminding him of his faults. Lucas is already sitting in the front seat, ready to go, but Mark throws the two of you in the backseat. At this point you’re completely gone to the world, head thrown back against the cushion as he struggles to put on your seatbelt. It seems like an arbitrary precaution in this case. 

As Lucas starts to drive, moving as fast as he can possibly go, Mark clutches your hand. “Baby,” he finally breaths out as reality begins to set in. This is his fault, he did this to you. He doesn’t deserve to hold your hand, so instead he lets go, placing it in your lap before leaning forward to place his head in his hands.

“Oh my fucking god,” he finally lets out, exasperated.

—1 WEEK, 2 DAYS CLEAN

“My name is Hyunjoon, and I am addicted to alcohol. It has been… six weeks since my last drink.”

Mark bounces his leg erratically, glancing around the room. There’s some people he knows, recalling their faces on campus or around town, but some people he's never seen in his life. He’s supposed to reveal himself to these people? He doesn’t belong here.

Or maybe he does. After his last breakdown, it had taken him three days to fess up to Lucas. His friend, though disappointed, was more than understanding. “It’s a long road,” he had told Mark at the time. He said that he knew of an addiction support group in town, and encouraged Mark to attend. He’s right; Mark knows he can’t do this alone.

“Glad to see you’ve gone another week, Hyunjoon. Happy to see you back.”

He’s next, so he stands. “Um,” he starts, rubbing his nape and feeling awfully out of place. “I’m Mark, and I’m addicted to…” he sighs. “A lot of things.” 

The kind looking leader of the meeting offers him a smile. “You can share if you’d like.”

He takes a deep breath. There’s so many people, so many eyes. “Mostly weed. I drink a lot, or I used to. I… I was trying to stop everything then I had a—” How to describe it? “Relapse, last week. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“We commend you for your courage, Mark.” There’s a soft round of applause in the circle. The smiling leader then continues, “We ask everyone who is new to this group, ‘why.’ Why do you want to stop your addiction? Why do you seek help? Besides the obvious reasons that it’s bad for you.”

This question doesn’t take long for him to answer. “I hurt someone. Someone that I really loved, and honestly… I hate myself for it. So I have to stop.”

There seems to be a couple of nods around the circle as Mark sits back down. He releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. This will work. Things will be okay. He will get better. He will get you back.

“Thank you for that, Mark. Welcome.”

—THE FIRST REGRET.

Mark finds himself in the same position he had been in earlier in the car, except this time he’s sitting on the floor right outside your room on the hospital floor, hiding his head in his hands. What is wrong with him?

What had he done to you? What had he allowed you to do to yourself?

God, he’s fucked up. 

Lucas is inside with you. He had wanted to be there when you woke up, but he couldn’t. He could barely look at his face in the hospital bathroom mirrors; how was he supposed to face you, IVs hooked up to your arms as a result of the drugs that he gave you? It was supposed to be fine, it was just a little bit! It was supposed to help the experience you two were having. But instead, it almost ended your life. 

He looks back now. Just two years ago, when you had first met, you didn’t even drink. You’d never been kissed, never been touched. Now he’s… done this to you. He’s despicable. You don’t deserve him. You deserve better. 

The door opens, and Mark finally pulls his head up to see Lucas step out with a somber expression. It’s a stark juxtaposition that saddens him, for Lucas is so often the light hearted joking one of the two. “She wants to see you.”

Mark parts his lips, shaky breath exhaling. “I can’t.”

Lucas takes a seat next to him on the floor, sighing. He probably looks crazy, shirtless and puffy eyed on the floor, but his best friend moves next to him anyways. “I know. She’s not angry, you know.”

“That’s the worst part,” mumbles Mark, staring out at the bleak white walls of the hospital in front of them. He doesn’t say much, but Lucas understands him it seems. 

“Something’s gotta change, Mark. Something’s gotta give.”

He knows, with a soft nod of his head. Of course, he knows what Lucas means, but what it means to him is different. He has to give something up, and it’s going to be you. Not because he can live without you or because he doesn’t love you, but because it needs to be you. You can’t be around him any longer. You’ll only continue to be hurt.

When this thought finally occurs, and he accepts it, it becomes a little easier to face you. 

He rises to his feet. “I’ll… I’ll see you later,” he finally says, twisting the doorknob to your room open.

—1 MONTH, 4 DAYS CLEAN

He doesn’t know why you asked to see him for lunch, but he does know that you look good. You look healthy, you look better than you did that day when he slipped into your hospital room and saw you there, laying lifeless and gray. But that day, you still smiled when you saw him. 

You look rather happy, like you’re doing okay without him, though he hopes that’s not that case—no, that’s not a good thing to hope for. He hopes that you’re doing okay, but that you’ll be even happier when you’re together again. Again, you smile at him over your food. Even after all this time, you still look at him like he’s the center of your universe. 

Though you had made small talk about your lives, what you were both doing, how your mom is, how Lucas is, and other unimportant things, it’s at the end of the meal when your voice finally sobers, though you keep a smile on your lips. 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you out here.”

“I…” Mark starts, blinking, before nodding. “Yeah.”

You laugh, causing the slightest smile to break out across his lips. It’s still the same laugh you had, that fated night when you met. “I just wanted to see you again. And talk. We haven’t talked in a while.”

Mark’s smile turns into a bittersweet simper. “I thought that was because you didn’t want to talk.” Though you had spoken to him on that phone that one day, he had chalked that up to you being polite when he suddenly called. 

“Well, at first, yeah, but you know it’s been almost a year since we broke up and… I had some things I wanted to tell you.” Him too, but he’s not entirely sure he’s at his best just yet. Nevertheless, he smiles and nods. 

“I’m listening. You know I always am.”

You take a moment or two to simply stare at him with thoughtful eyes as you think over your words. All the while, your sweet smile never leaves your roseate tiers. Finally, hands folded over your lap, you start.

“Thank you.”

Mark blinks, but you continue. “I know that we didn’t end off on the best terms but I wanted to make sure you knew that I was thankful for you. For having you. You’ve done a lot for me. You’ve taught me a lot, and I can’t thank you more for everything you’ve done.”

You blink repeatedly, eyes fluttering before you continue, which leads Mark to think that these words might be just as emotional for you as they are for him. “Thank you for teaching me love. Because of you, I’ve grown a lot and become a better version of myself. A stronger one. I’m really thankful that you were my first everything: my first real date—” His mind flies back to that night. That movie really was a horrible movie.

“My first kiss.” Does it feel right, now? Yes. Can I kiss you? Yes.

“My first time.” It was awkward, but it felt, as it always did, right. 

“Thank you, for being the first guy I loved. I really… really loved you, Mark. But most of all,” you say, gazing at his wordless figure with those eyes of yours. They’re not as innocent and naive as they used to be. They’re matured now, hardened, but still, the sparkle is there. The same sparkle that had attracted him that night, three years ago, with that damned white dress.

“I forgive you.” Mark releases a shaky breath. “For everything. I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore. It’s not your fault, really. I’m better now, I’m healthy. Please, don’t hurt yourself anymore because of me.”

“Y/N, I—”

“I met you in my first year here. We’re going to be seniors, Mark. We’re going to graduate and be thrown into the real world, where there’s real consequences. I don’t want the consequences of what happened to weigh you down. I just want to move on, and you deserve to move on too.” From the glint in your eye, it’s clear how long you’ve pondered over these words. 

He wants to reach out to you, to grasp you and bring you back to him. Because he’s trying to let go of the past so that he can focus on loving you fully as you are. 

Sure, you can forgive him, but he needs to forgive himself first. He’s not quite fully well yet. He has to be patient.

A soft exhale leaves his lips. “Thank you. For forgiving me.”

Yet another sweet, beautiful smile spreads across your lips. It’s the smile that haunts Mark’s dreams. “You’re welcome. And thank you again for everything.” As the waitress appears, returning Mark’s credit card that he had graciously used to pay for the meal, you stand with your bag.

No, you can’t be leaving just yet. “Stay in touch, okay, Mark?”

But he has to let you leave. The day will come when it’s right. “Yeah,” he manages, swallowing the lump in his throat. Yet as he watches you walk away, he can feel that that string of fate he had always believed tied the two of you together slowly wearing, twisting, breaking.

—THE FINAL TEAR.

“What do you mean we should break up?” 

Your voice is scandalized, angry. Mark simply keeps his gaze to the living room floor, eyebrows furrowed in complete unhappiness. He never wanted it to end like this, but he’s run horrible with thoughts that the things he did brought pain to you. It’s time to end it. Not because he wants to, but because he should. 

“We just should,” he responds bleakly. “After what happened, I think it’s clear that we’re not good for each other.” 

It’s been a month now since you’ve been discharged from the hospital. After you had convinced your doctor that you weren’t addicted to drugs and in need of rehab, you had gone home. Mark had luckily had enough saved to pay off your hospital bills; neither of you wanted your parents knowing. “Mark, it’s okay. I told you it’s okay!”

“No, it’s not. It’s not just because of the overdose. Things have been like this for a while now.”

You attempt to grab his hand. If he allows himself to bask in just one moment of your kindness, he’ll give in. You beg, “Mark, please, hang on for me, for us. I promise things will get better, things can change.”

He snaps, pulling his hand from your’s. Your eyes widen up at him, shocked and appalled at his sudden movement. “No! Can’t you see? You didn’t even take that much. I took more coke in my first snort than you took in that entire line. The overdose shouldn’t have even happened, but look, it did. This is wrong.”

“What, the drugs? I’ve been telling you that. Please, we can get better. We can find help.” The fact that you’re still pleading him with kind, gentle eyes, makes this all worse. It only further proves that you’re good. He’s not.

“No, not the drugs. Us.”

“Us?”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, shaking his head in frustration. “We’re not right for each other. This isn’t working.”

“What do you mean? Tell me why.”

“We’re just not… destined to be together. What happened, it was God’s way of telling us that this is not right. We’re not right for each other,” he explains, voice exasperated as he tries his best to explain the mess of his thoughts. 

This seems to take you aback, your voice finally rising. “Oh, so now you care what God thinks?”

No, not really. But sometimes he has to listen. He doesn’t respond, so you continue. “I’ve been more than willing to make this work for two years, Mark. You think any of this was easy for me? My first boyfriend and he’s a freaking drug dealer for God’s sake. I tried to take it all because I loved you! I took care of you when you were hungover, I waited around shady areas at night so that you could drop off deals, I stuck with you for everything. Fuck,” you shout, causing Mark to tense. You rarely curse, and based on your usage of it now, he knows just how upset you are. “I even overdosed and I’m still here. Yet it’s always you pushing me away, making it difficult. Why are you running away from us?”

He’s not running away. “I’m not running away,” he declares. “I’m letting you run away.”

“And what makes you think I need to run away from you?”

“Because! You heard yourself, don’t deserve those things. You should have someone to take care of you when you’re sick, not always be the one fixing me when I’m sick. You should have someone to walk with you through the shady areas. That’s not me. I’m not… right for you.” He finally spits it out, eyebrows tightened together as he releases the thoughts that have been on his mind for a month now. 

You’re silent for a moment, taking in his words with your arms crossed over your chest. When you speak, your voice has returned to its normal speaking volume. “You told me that you believed in fate, that you believed in us. Is this fate? Fate that we met, and fell in love, and broke up? Is it fate that you hurt me over and over again and I came back, every single time? Because if that’s fate…” A single tear falls from your eyes, though you wipe it away so it’s as if it never even existed. It seems even you have some pride now, not to cry in front of him. “It seems like your idea of fate is pretty messed up.”

Mark takes a large breath, looking away to gather his thoughts before looking back to you. You’ve both come so far since that night, the image of her clouded by the purple lights, the energy of the party. Now, all that glamour is stripped away. It’s just you and him, as you are. “You had to meet someone like me, so you can know what you deserve.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to call it quits, and blame it on destiny?” Your tone is mocking, questioning his reasons and probably his sanity. 

“I’m not calling it quits,” he immediately retorts, responding sharp and quick. “I’m letting you go.”

“No,” you say as you approach him. “You’re giving up. On us, on everything we worked hard to build. Our trust, our relationship, everything.” Your finger digs into his chest, pointing an accusing blame. “I broke up with you,” you emphasize. “Not the other way around. I broke up with you because you tugged me around, you pushed me away, and you never listened to me. I got tired of it, and broke up with you.” 

With that, you pull away from him, though when he finally comes to realize the weight of the conversation you just had, he sees you grabbing your bag and slipping your white ballet flats with purple bows on. “Y/N.”

He wants to say he’s sorry, because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He hadn’t planned for the conversation to go up in flames. 

Whenever you walked out during arguments, there was always a promise to call later, to talk when your minds were stable. But now, as you turn over your shoulder, walking out of his apartment and life, you muster a goodbye.

“Don’t call me.”

—3 MONTHS CLEAN.

“Senior year!” Lucas yells as he throws open the front door with the power of the Hulk, startling Mark who’s still unpacking some boxes of cookware in the kitchen. “It’s our time, time to shine!”

A soft laugh leaves Mark as he places some cups in the cupboard. He and Lucas had left their apartment for two months for the summer to return to their homes, but here they are, back and ready to take on their final year. They had finished middle school and high school together, and now they’ll graduate college together. It makes Mark smile. 

As he leaves the kitchen to greet his best friend in the living room, he sees that the guy has already brought in a number of his boxes. “Hey, man,” calls Mark, who leads Lucas in for a dap. 

“Hey yourself, you barely talked to me this summer,” Lucas chastises playfully. “Ignoring me, I see.”

Mark laughs, shaking his head. “Not ignoring, just… working on myself.” 

“Good,” responds Lucas, turning to bring in the rest of his boxes. Yes, Mark had spent the entire summer dedicating himself to the lost cause that was himself. He started working out again, got a job, and even worked on rebuilding his relationship with his mother. Things were looking up for him.

He feels ready. Lucas’ voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey, wanna take a break and get some food?”

His question meets a raised eyebrow from Mark. “You just got here, like, two minutes ago.”

“And?”

A laugh leaves Mark’s lips, and he shakes his head. “Nothing. But, uh, I can’t. I was going to go… see Y/N.”

“Oh?” asks Lucas, leaning down to tear the tape on one of the dark cardboard boxes filled to the brim, probably with Lucas’ pillows; the man was like a giant baby, sleeping with ten pillows. “You called her and asked to meet up?”

“No,” responds Mark, who follows these words with a deep breath. “I’m going to go see her.” 

Lucas stands straight once more, his playful expression from earlier now serious. He shoots Mark a soft smile, patting him on the shoulder. “Nice. I’m happy for you. Are you leaving now?”

“Uh, yeah, I was planning to go after I put all the kitchen stuff away.”

Lucas’ grin grows even wider, stretching from ear to ear as he gives Mark a little pat on the bum, which is supposed to be encouraging. “Well, then go get her, tiger! Good luck, man,” he yells supportively as he pushes Mark out the door. 

As he shuts the door, Mark blinks. “Dude! I don’t even have shoes on! Or my car keys,” he laughs, banging on the door.

Some time later, Mark finds himself hesitating as he parks his car a block down the street from your sharehouse, the same place he had kissed you, that many years ago. He doesn’t even know if you still live here. You had been broken up since the beginning of your junior year, who knows if you had decided to move out?

He contemplates this as he walks down the sidewalk to your place, hands in his pockets and gaze on the floor. Surely, if you’re not there, one of the girls will point him in your direction? Hopefully.

Oh, but you are there. As your home comes into view, he sees you. You’re there on the front porch, dressed in a simple white skirt and the same white ballet flats with purple bows that you can never seem to grow out of. 

But you’re not alone. 

There’s a man with you, though his back is turned to Mark’s view. He blinks. His steps stop completely. Surely it could be anyone right? A neighbor? A classmate? 

But that’s impossible. Not because class doesn’t start for three days or because you and him met the neighbors on all sides of your house, but because you lean up on your toes, the way you always did with Mark himself, and kiss the stranger’s cheek. 

It would have been easy to lie to himself, but then it’s much too clear. He realizes it then as he stares, only a few steps away from the path that would have led to your steps, the steps he took when walking you back on your first date, intertwined hands swinging between the two of you. 

He’s too late. Maybe much too late. 

He was a fool all this time. Thinking that he could be better for you, that he could defy fate with his free will and urge the universe into letting you be together. Lucas was wrong; life isn’t free will, neither is love. 

This is his fate, there’s no use denying it. 

He stands staring for a few moments, simply gazing in complete desolation at the sight before him. This is it, this is the end. He’s ready to submit to his poor fate, the internalized idea he’s housed that he’d never be able to find a love like yours ever again, but then you see him, probably because he stands out like a stain of black paint on the green canvas of your lawn. 

He doesn’t hear you, but your lips form his name, “Mark?” and your eyes blink in confusion.

He doesn’t wait too long anyways, for he’s already turned on his heels back to his car. Fuck fate and its tendencies, giving hope where there will only be heartbreak. 

—SOMEWHERE BETWEEN THE FIRST TEAR AND THE FIRST CRASH.

The smell of you invades his senses, but he doesn’t care. It’s one of the first nights in a long time where you’ve agreed to go to a party with him. Though other girls beg for his attention, he’s still only got his eyes on you. Your outfit tonight is much too nostalgic.

“You know,” he whispers in your ear, dancing against your backside with a hand on your waist. “You look best in white.” 

“I know,” you respond, chuckling whilst dancing back against him. He had taught you how to dance a while ago, and you just keep getting better and better. 

“You wore this dress on purpose, didn’t you, you little minx,” he teases, though a playful laugh leaves his throat. His words draw a knowing giggle from you, and Mark feels as though he could get drunk on the sound alone. 

“Maybe,” you respond back, turning and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. This is when Mark gets a good look at you. 

It’s so easy to remember the way you first appeared to him, standing awkwardly in a corner of a party just like this. This time the lights decorating the aura of this party are not purple, but his heart is all the same. You’re wearing the same outfit now, definitely at this point to tantalize him and tease him; you loved to make fun of him after he told you that he had fallen for you because of that dress alone. 

But you’re different now.

You’re brighter, taller, more mature. Now you are not just your person carrying your own thoughts, but his as well. You know him, know his thoughts and his feelings, know his worries without asking. Your smile is bigger, it reaches your eyes more now than it did that first night, a forced simper at the strange guy coming to flirt with you. You dance with more confidence, you carry with yourself a quiet strength despite your hesitant nature. 

He loves you. God, he loves you. He tells you just as much.

With a hand over your hip, he pulls you close. You think he’s going to press another tipsy kiss to your lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he brushes his lips to your ear and he whispers, so softly you would have missed it if you hadn’t been purposely filtering the party’s music to focus on his voice: “I love you.”

You blink, and stop your dancing. It’s the first time he’s ever said this to you. 

“Mark…” you start, lips parting in surprise, but he’s pulled away to smile sweetly at you. It’s not flirtatious, the kind of smile he gives you before attempting to pull you in the bathroom for a quick one. Nor is it the knowing grin he shoots before guiltily asking you to go refill his drink. It’s a small one that barely touches the tips of his lips, and the look alone makes your heart melt in espousement. “I… I love you too.”

You had told him, of course, the other month when you had tore him apart in his bedroom after finding him hungover. But this time it’s real, and in the future you both will choose to remember this as the first time. 

Some might think that it’s unorthodox to confess such strong feelings such as love in the middle of a party, sweltering with the heat of dancing bodies and the musky smoke in the air. But for the two of you, it doesn’t matter. It’s just you two in here; you only see each other.

—3 MONTHS CLEAN, ONE HOUR LATER.

Mark’s currently in his room, completely bare except for his bed and desk, sulking away. When he had returned home with a bitter lilt in his steps, Lucas didn’t need any explanation, stepping out to “meet Yuqi.” 

Of course, it had been Lucas who had put him in this place of thinking he could get you back but in the end, it was only himself that he had to blame. He never had the chance, it was his fault for thinking he ever did.

He’s learned his lesson. 

It’s only an hour later when Lucas knocks on the door again. Fuck, Mark thinks inwardly while rolling his eyes. It’s only the first day back, has this giant managed to lose his keys, again? He makes his way out to the door, already preparing to give Lucas hell for being so irresponsible, but Lucas never makes his appearance at the door.

“Y/N.”

“Mark, I’m sorry, but—”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up at your place uninvited.” He’s quick to interrupt you, shaking his head. It’s easy to pretend to be strong; he just needs to maintain a strong front until he shuts the door again. 

“It’s not that, I—”

“I won’t do it again, I promise. I know you said you wanted to move on and I shouldn’t be surprised, it just hurts to see it, and so, I’ll—”

“Mark—”

“I hope that you’re very happy, and that he can make you happier than I di—”

“That’s my brother, you daft idiot!” You finally cut him off, voice rising to a volume louder than his. He had flinched at your sudden peak in volume. You give him a pointed look, and when he doesn’t dare speak again, you continue. “That’s my brother, Mark. He helps me move in every year, you know that!”

That’s true, he does know that. And he’s met your brother many, many times. Shit, he realizes.

“... Oh.”

“Mark Lee, you think I could move on from you that quickly? It’s been like, two months!” You scold him, as if the idea is preposterous. 

“Well,” he reasons. “Technically we broke up a year ago.”

You seem to have the energy to argue back. “Okay, but I only really let you go when school ended this year.” 

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment following your words, before you both start to laugh. You crack first, trying to remain serious when all you want to do is envelope him in a hug, for how could you ever love anyone else? You can’t even imagine trying to date anyone right now. He follows right after, shoulders relaxing as you start to chuckle. 

“We look insane right now, you know,” he says, sighing as his chortle comes to an end.

“Yeah, and I’m insane because I drove like a madwoman chasing after my ex because he saw me with my brother,” you say with a pointed tone, to which Mark sighs.

“Okay, in my defense, I saw him from behind, and you are awfully touchy with your brother!” He starts, when you begin to laugh again, pure amusement breaking out across your visage. Wow, just five minutes ago he had been regretting all his life decisions, yet here he was with you again, making conversations like you had years ago in your relationship. 

When the laughter dies down, the two of you are left staring at each other, and reality sets in. Yeah, he had run away when he saw you with your brother of all people, and you had chased after him, your ex. Where does that place you?

Mark speaks first, breaking the short silence. “I’m sober now, you know. I haven’t done anything, anything at all, in three months now.”

Surprise seems to claim your face at the revelation, and he’s not sure if he should feel proud that he managed to shock you with his success or saddened that it seems to be that much of a surprise. “Oh?” Your surprised expression is replaced with a smile. “I’m proud.”

He nods, unsure what to say next, but luckily you add on, “What made you decide to stop?” You’re undoubtedly reminiscing on all the times you had begged him to give it up, to which he would stubbornly resist. 

“You.”

Your features contort into an incredulous expression. “Me.”

“Really,” Mark urges. “I…” he pauses, preparing himself for the words about to leave him. He had long pondered over this moment, wondering if it would truly happen. “I lost you, and I know that I said it was because we weren’t meant to be together but somewhere along the line I realized, I can live without weed, and parties, and alcohol but I can’t live without you.”

“Mark…” You start, lips parted as you grow silent.

“No, please, let me finish, I don’t want to take all the credit because it was Lucas who had to come and knock some sense into me and make me see: sure, fate can be real and that soulmate shit might be real too because I believe you’re mine, but I know that everything is a choice, including love.” His mention of Lucas has you smiling, and he has no doubt Lucas has talked to you recently, attempting to be the middleman once more. “I love you, there’s no doubt about that, I love you more than I love partying, my friends, or anything. And if I love you that much, there’s nothing that can keep me from you.”

He grasps at your hands, and thankfully, you don’t pull away. “Not God, not fate, not anybody. Only me. I was the only thing keeping us apart. I want to be with you, I want to make things better, and I promise… I promise I’ll do everything in my power to be the best for you.” Mark takes a deep breath, taking a moment to glance down at his hands holding yours before looking back to your eyes. “I can’t promise that I won’t have relapses. But I promise that as long as you’re there for me, I will be there for you. I’ll walk you through the shady areas, I won’t run away.”

“Mark—”

“I don’t know if my words will be enough for you to take me back but I swear to you on my entire being that I will be here—”

“Geez, Mark does sobriety make you extremely prone to interrupting, or what?” You butt in, but you laugh, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. Whether it’s you natural shine or tears building in your eyes, neither of you know. “Don’t even go there, or explain anymore. Of course I’ll take you back, you idiot. You think I would chase after you like that if I didn’t think about running back to you every day?”

This causes him to laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t. I wasn’t ready. I was waiting until I was good enough to run to you.”

“You ran away earlier,” you point out teasingly, and he rolls his eyes, pulling you close over the threshold of his apartment. 

“That was the last time.”

Your hands find his chest, resting upon the expanse of it as you look up at him with a cheeky smile. “Better be, mister.”

“Oh,” he muses, as you wrap your fingers around the fabric of his shirt and all feels right again. “You’re bold.”

“A year apart does that to you,” you smile, still a hint of shyness on your lips as you finally tug him in, kissing him. You melt into him and his hands immediately find themselves on your hips, just where they belong. 

Oh yes, there it is again, that feeling of euphoria. You’re the only drug, the only high he needs. 

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.3 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N catches the eye of one of her male classmates who invites her to an upcoming party. As she weighs her options, Peter takes her out for a treat but old history comes back up. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I hope everyone is safe during this crazy time. Remember: Wear a mask, wash your hands, and only leave your house for necessities! You can literally stay at home and read fanfiction all day and you would be saving lives! I introduced a new male character and I’ll be real, Joshua Bassett needs to be appreciated so I put him in! However, for the character Josh you can think of any celeb or crush you have if you want! 

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of sex

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || 

part seven || part eight || epilogue

When Monday rolled around, all you wanted to do was stay home. You felt that there was too much going on to just go on autopilot for eight hours at school when all you could think about was how to fix Peter.

While you had decided that you would at least be nice to him, there was still a small part of you that was worried about what would happen if he never got better. 

How much of your relationship would change and worst of all, what would happen to his ‘superhero’ duties?

If you were really the only thing running through his mind, how would he even function saving lives?

As much as you wanted to sit and worry about him, you knew you needed to get your own life together before you started fixing other people like going to school.

You went to college-prep academy which really just meant that everyone had to wear uniforms to kill all individualistic forms of expression and pay ridiculous tuition to learn. 

You really didn’t mind since most of your classes were ridiculously easy but a lot of your classmates were spoiled monsters who liked to flaunt their rich last name.

Lucky for you, Stark was pretty hard to beat.

Once you slipped your blazer on, you grabbed the straps of your backpack and walked out into the kitchen to pack your lunch where Peter was already awake, making breakfast.

Usually, by this time, Peter would already be on his way to school on the subway but your dad and Banner thought it would be best for him to stay at the complex so they could run more tests on him.

Peter took his attention off of the stove and drew his eyes towards you, his face already flushed red as he tried not to stare below your skirt,” Y/N! You look really pretty in your uh- uniform.”

At this point, you knew that whatever words that came out of Peter’s mouth wasn’t his fault so you decided to roll with it. You were so used to him always giving you snarky replies about your school uniform but now, you didn’t have to waste your energy thinking of a comeback.

You hummed as you leaned over the kitchen island to grab a piece of bacon that was off to the side,” And you look really pretty in your pajamas Parker. How are you holding up? Are they getting any closer into figuring out how to stop your chest pains?”

Ever since Peter first made contact with the lovedust, he had been complaining about how tight his chest was feeling. It seemed like a normal side effect since it would happen whenever you were close to him but as days passed, his chest started to hurt more every time you weren’t around.

You felt guilty knowing that you going to school would literally cause him pain but at the same time, you couldn’t adjust your whole life around Peter.

Peter shook his head as he swallowed hard,” No not yet but I’m sure they’ll figure out something soon... I packed your lunch by the way. It’s over there by the sink.”

You looked over towards the sink and sure enough, your lunch bag that you hadn’t used since freshman year was neatly packed. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your school had really good chicken pesto on Mondays so you gladly looked through the lunch bag to see what was inside.

As you looked through it, you could see a white piece of lined paper folded and taped against a small packet of Oreos. Peter noticed that you had found the note and this time, his face grew redder.

“ You can throw it away if you want, I thought it would be nice or whatever,” Peter said quietly as he walked over to where you were standing.

He reached for your lunch bag but you tensed up, pulling it towards your chest,” Aw, come on Parker, please? Technically, this note is like mail and you know it’s a federal crime to tamper with it.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and nodded as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. You had never seen Peter ever this flustered before and a part of you felt guilty that you were the reason he was so nervous but a part of you liked the attention.

You had to remind yourself that once Peter was cured, it gave him free rein to possibly be the same dick as before. At least for now, you liked being friends with Peter.

“ I gotta go now but I’ll see you after school,” You finally said as you put your backpack on and walked over to the elevator,” try not to die or anything.”

“ I’ll do my best, have a good day,” Peter smiled as he suddenly remembered something,” oh, make sure you bring an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain today.”

You checked your phone to look at the weather for the afternoon but saw that it was supposed to be bright and sunny all day,” I’m sure it’ll be fine, bye Parker.”

Once you made it all the way downstairs to the main entrance, you looked behind your shoulder to make sure no one was behind you before rummaging through your lunch bag. You took out the note Peter had written to you and even though you didn’t even open it yet, you already felt your stomach twisting and turning.

You had a feeling it would be him saying how pretty you looked or how much he loved you since he was under his lovey trance but when you opened up the note, you felt yourself smile.

Thank you for not being weird about everything that’s going on. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. P.S I love it when you call me Parker

                                                      -------

School dragged on and on and by the time the last bell had rung, you felt like you were on the verge of dropping out.

Any of your STEM classes weren’t as interesting or as challenging to you anymore, especially since you had a whole floor in your own house that was just laboratories filled with people who have actually won Nobel Prizes.  

Once you left class, you made your way straight to your locker and put your math textbook into your backpack. When you shut your locker, you looked up to see your friend Kim holding up her phone towards your face.

“ Hello to you too, what am I looking at?” You asked as you took her phone to get a better look at the screen,” is this a Snapchat invitation?”

“ Good, you can read,” Kim teased as she adjusted the straps of her backpack,” Amber is throwing a party on Saturday and we have to go!”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you handed the phone back to her. You didn’t hate parties but you much rather preferred smaller functions with all of your friends than a room filled with total strangers your age.

“ I thought we hated Amber and I’m pretty sure she hates us. She literally called you rat face when you were doing your presentation and you pushed her into the trashcan the other day,” You reminded Kim as your mind thought back to how much you disliked Amber.

If your school was the chocolate factory, Amber Kennedy was Veruca Salt. Anytime she pouted and whined about whatever new golden ticket she craved, she got it.

While Amber never anything specific towards you, anyone who disrespected your friend was an enemy in your book.

Kim rolled her eyes as the two of you made your way down the hallway,” Okay that’s true, I hate that bitch with every fiber of my being but I just need a mental break from school. Plus, it’ll be good for you to get yourself out there. I heard a certain lead singer in a band is looking forward to seeing you there.”

You knew right away who Kim was going on about but you only shrugged,” I don’t know who you’re talking about...Is it raining outside?”

Of course, she knew you were lying because there was only one guy you ever mentioned around her when you weren’t complaining about Peter.

Joshua- or Josh- was one of the few guys in your life who managed to not piss you off completely but that wasn’t the only thing you liked about him.

“ Let me refresh your memory; dark brown, curly-haired genius who sits behind you in Anatomy and according to you has ‘perfect brown eyes that make me want to jump off a bridge’?” Kim reminded you as you playfully hit her shoulder.

You were never the type to be boy crazy and you weren’t one of the girls who felt their knees buckle every time they saw him, but whenever he would wave or smile at you in class, you had to physically stop yourself from blushing like a schoolgirl.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t say you and Josh were friends, a better-suited term would be classmates that occasionally talked about things outside of school ever now and then. 

“ Look, as much as I would love to go to a party where I know no one and where the host hates me, I’m not going to go to a party just because Josh is going to be there. I don’t care how cute he is, I’m busy dealing with you know who,” You said as you heard someone chuckle behind you.

“ You think I’m cute?”

Your heart dropped to the floor as you turned around to see Josh standing behind you with a wide smirk on his face. You could feel your throat hitch as you quickly looked Josh up and down to make sure he was not a figment of your imagination.

It was nearly impossible for anyone to look good in a school uniform but of course, Josh managed to pull it off every time. His tie was loosely undone around his white collar and his sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows and you were 100% on board with it.

For a moment, you felt actual sympathy for Peter because now you understood how he must be feeling.

Without a second thought, you felt your binder slip out of your hands and once it hit the floor, your notes came out of the binder pocket.

You both took a moment to stare at the papers on the floor but Josh was the first one to bend down and pick some of them up.

You snapped out of your daze and kneeled down in front of him awkwardly as you helped him pick up your notes,” I’m sorry, you just startled me.”

Josh let out a small laugh as he shook his head,” Well, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was hoping to do the opposite actually. I was calling your name earlier but I guess you were too busy talking about...me.”

You pressed your lips together as you tried to avoid his gaze, as if that would help the blush fade away,” Yeah, about that, Kim was just telling me that you were planning to go to some party this weekend. Apparently, your band is playing right?”

You looked over your shoulder to look up at Kim but she was nowhere to be seen. Coward.

“ Amber’s party, yeah,” Josh said as you neatly put your stack of papers into your binder,” I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but were you saying that you aren’t going?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at Josh and you felt stupid for feeling so nervous around him.

 By all means, you were not in love with him and saying that he was your crush was pushing it a bit.

All you knew was that apparently, Josh had been asking about you and that alone made something inside of you click.

You cleared your throat as you nodded, tearing your eyes away from his,” I mean, I would love to go but I might have plans.”

“ That’s too bad, I was kinda hoping I would see you there,” Josh said quietly, his face slightly flushed,” but don’t worry about it. I’m sure whatever you have going on is more important than just some party.”

You didn’t even realize you were both reaching for the same page of notes until his hand rested against yours for a moment. Your heart stopped as you waited for him to pull his hand away but he kept it on top of yours.

After a few seconds passed, Josh held your hand tightly as he helped you stand up again. He gave your hand one last squeeze before he let his hand fall to the side.

What the hell is happening?

As much as you wanted to go to the party, all you could think about was Peter. You knew that more than ever, he needed you and if your dad needed your help in the lab, you wanted to be there.

Then, as if your mind was telling you to reconsider, it pushed forward the conversation you had with Peter before he made contact with the lovedust.

“ You wasted your whole high school years on never accomplishing anything. You never went to a single party, you never passed your drivers test, and you’ve never even had a boyfriend before.”

A part of you couldn’t even believe Peter would ever say something like that because of how obsessed he is over you. Yet, that memory of Peter was only a few days ago.

You couldn’t just let it all go, you knew he was capable of saying hurtful things and for once, you didn’t want to worry about someone else.

For the first time ever, you were going to be selfish.

“ Maybe I can stop by to say hi or something to listen to your band,” You said as you watched him smile back,” but I can’t promise anything.”

Josh flipped his blazer over his shoulder and smirked,” Too late, I’m already looking forward to seeing you there.”

Josh gave a small wave before walking back over to his friends who were leaned up against the lockers. As you walked away, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

When you got to the front doors, you looked out the windows and watched the rain quietly. Of course, Peter was right.

You had planned to walk to the subway station after school since you knew your dad would be too busy fixing Peter to pick you up but if you would have known it was going to rain, you would’ve asked Kim to take you home.

You opened up the glass doors and held your textbook over your head, thankful for once that Mr. Carter had assigned homework from this mammoth of a book.  As you made your way down the stairs, you spotted a familiar face waiting on the bench in the courtyard with an umbrella.

“ Peter?” You called out as his head snapped up to see you,” what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the lab?”

Peter stood up and held the umbrella closer to you so you wouldn’t get wet and rubbed the back of his neck.

“ Your dad and Banner have been running tests on me all morning so they sent me to my room to rest for a bit. But then I saw that you forgot your umbrella and I didn’t want you to walk to the subway in the rain,” Peter said as the two of you shared the umbrella,” so here I am.”

“ You didn’t have to come all this way...but thank you,” You said as the two of you walked out the gates. 

Peter smiled as you interlocked your arms with him to get closer. As the two of you made your way across town, you both exchanged how your day went but when it came to talking about yours,  you purposely left out the part about Josh and the party.

You didn’t know why you would even keep it from him but you just kept telling yourself that what Peter didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. Plus, if Peter found out about your interaction with Josh, there could be a possibility that he would be on a whole other level of jealousy and frankly, you didn’t have the time.

“ So, I read your note,” You said as you felt Peter tense up beside you,” you said you’d make it up to me and now I’m intrigued. What did you have in mind?”

“ A lot of things, if we’re thinking about someplace romantic there’s this-” Peter stopped himself and shook his head before taking a breath,” sorry. I’m just trying to get better at controlling what I say around you. I was just going to say that there’s this place around the corner that makes really good milkshakes and I thought it would be a nice date- as friends! Just friends. Unless you want to- fuck! I’m sorry Y/N, I’m just going to shut up now.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small laugh as Peter shook his head,” You’re such a sap, Parker. It really is never a dull moment with you.”

Peter opened up the diner doors and as soon as you stepped in, you felt like you had been transported back in time.

The floor was sketched in the iconic black and white checkered print and the platinum bar had bright red stools along the outside. 

Just from your spot in the front, you could smell the peppermint disinfectant that they used to wipe down the tables but you were most focused on the jukebox in the corner as a Ritchie Valens song started to play in the background.

“ How did you find this place?” You asked as Peter led you to one of the booths in the corner of the diner.

“ I always knew about it but I figured it wouldn’t be fun without bringing someone along,” Peter admitted as you looked around at the old, decorative records across the wall,” I know how much you like those old movies so I thought it would be nice to take you back to the fun part of the 50s without the, you know, racism.”

You shook your head laughing as you turned your attention to the menu,” Nothing says the 50s like institutionalized racism and systemic oppression of women.”

Once the waitress arrived at the booth, Peter ordered a milkshake for the two of you to share and while you felt yourself falling deeper into the cliche, you couldn’t oppose since he was paying.

When the waitress left, Peter turned back to you and rested his hands on the table nervously. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking about but that in itself made you stand up straighter.

“ Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to but I’m just curious,” You asked as Peter nodded enthusiastically.

“ What does the lovedust feel like?” You asked as Peter raised his eyebrow,” I mean, how does it make you feel... about me?”

Peter felt the inside of his mouth dry up as he croaked,” Do you mean- are you asking me what it feels like to be in love with you? Because honestly Y/N,  it feels so weird-”

“ Being in love with me is weird?”

“ Well yeah! Wait no! No, it’s not weird!” Peter stammered as you watched him get more and more nervous,” it’s not weird to love you but my body feels weird around you. My hands are constantly sweaty and clammy and sometimes it’s hard to even focus on small things like breathing. I can’t even shower without thinking of you- not like that- well kinda like that- but every time I have a quiet moment to myself, all my mind wants to think about is you. When your dad was running tests on me this morning, all I could think about was how you two shared the same last name and one day-hopefully-I can change your last name to Parker- okay see I can’t stop what comes out of my mouth when I’m on a roll!”  

As your mind started to break down every sentence he said, the waitress gave Peter a strange look before placing the milkshake in front of the two of you.

“ Wow, okay that was... a lot. You could’ve left out about half of that but I’ll give you a pass because I feel sorry for you,” You admitted as you took the paper wrapping off of the straw and dipped it into your milkshake,” but is there anything else? Like is there any part of you that still hates me? Or is it all gone because of the lovedust?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as you leaned over to take a sip,” Hate you? I never hated you Y/N.”

You pulled your lips away from the straw and sat back,” What do you mean you never hated me? I’m pretty sure you hated me, we were so mean to each other. Like our relationship was toxic as hell.”

Peter lightly banged his straw against the table and tore off the paper around the straw without looking at you.

“ I never hated you. Was I a huge dick to you? Of course I was. Was it entertaining watching you air out your room after I left smoke bombs in it before your friends came over? Kinda yeah. But I never did it because I hated you. I would never do those things out of pure malice but...it’s hard for me to look back and imagine us hating each other when I’m head over heels for you now,” Peter sighed as he started playing with the wrappings of the straw.

It was hard to believe that after all this time Peter never hated you because there were countless times for you where you really hated him and planned to murder him in his sleep without a second thought.

“ I’m not going to lie, I hated you. Some days, you made me feel so shitty about myself that I would cry underneath my covers so no one could hear,” You revealed to him as Peter felt a wave of sadness wash over him,” After a while, I wasn’t even sad anymore I was just so exhausted. I felt like I always had to be on my toes around you just in case you would pull something on me and to make sure you would never make me cry again, I knew I would always have to have the upper hand.”

You watched Peter almost sulk back into his seat, his mind swarming with memories of how awful he really was to you,” Y/N, I am so sorry I ever treated you like that. I never knew I made you cry. I know I’m sick with the powder but even if I wasn’t, I would still feel as miserable as I do right now...I’m a monster aren’t I?”

You wanted to be as honest as possible with Peter but in the state that he was in at the moment, you weren’t sure if he was in the right mental headspace to hear any harsh criticism.

“ We were both monsters...but now we’re different. This is the first time in years where I’ve actually enjoyed your company and while I’m not ready to start picking out baby names or whatever you’re trying to do with me, I like what we have. I just hope that when you get cured, things don’t have to change, you know?” You said as you reached across the table and opened up your hand.

You never knew how important starting over was until now and you knew that no matter what, Peter would always be in your life. The only question was what he really meant to you but at this moment, you didn’t have an answer and it was okay.

Peter looked down at it and hesitantly held it, his fingers caressing over your knuckles lightly as he inhaled deeply,” As long as you’re in my life, things don’t have to change.”

You squeezed his hand as you leaned in to take another sip. When you pulled away, you leaned back into your seat as you playfully sighed,” You know, I can’t decide if I’m weirded out or flattered by your comments lately but at the same time, I kinda wanna just open the flood gates and see what kind of crazy stuff you say so I can blackmail you later on.”

Peter only shook his head as his face started to grow flushed,” Y/N, please,  if I could control my mouth, I would. Once I start talking, every single thought in my mind surges with your face and how I feel like how fucking amazing you look in your uniform-”

“ Nope, nuh-uh, we can stop it right there pervert.”

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[flowerflamestars]

Let's ask the hard questions here, baby. What do you think the series would have been like had it been Nesta Archeron under the mountain?

BABE this is it-this is the best question I’ve ever been asked. 

For one thing, chaotic. For another: I think the simple substitution reframes the whole structure of the narrative. It’s not about a journey to power that fights Evil Tyranny (abused Human to Hero to High Lady).

It’s a story about the people working around, beside, under the powerful Lords- and the difficult choices they make. Less Hero’s Journey more, Look, These Are the Real Heroes.

Let’s start with Spring. We know now that the whole you killed a faery now you have to come to faeryland thing was an insanely shitty ruse. So maybe Andras is still alive. Maybe Feyre killed him and Nesta successfully protected her sisters. Maybe Tamlin is just a twat and went that one is pretty. ANYWAY-

Nesta gets to Spring. Lucien doesn’t immediately despise her, for, you know, murdering and skinning his only friend (a handy sublimation of the anger he can’t express against his High Lord). Nesta was raised in the fucking gentry and Nesta can play the game- it’s a question of willingness.

Feyre is a lot more willing to roll with weird circumstances for caution.  Nesta is, to her bones, an aggressor. Empty manor doesn’t add up? She’s going to say something so cutting, and so infuriating to Tamtam she ends up seeing all the faeries. She steels herself, refuses to be afraid of Alis, and asks questions. (See, Nesta’s first IC dinner, zeroing in on the scariest faery and refusing to flinch)

At some point, there’s a confrontation. 

But it’s not between Nesta and Tamlin. Now, in canon Tamtams is extremely willing to drag his feet on the curse. In this version, that is so much worse- sure, he’s into Nesta (Nesta, recall, just looks like sharper Feyre), but Nesta takes one look at this fragile immortal man child and roasts the shit out of him. What’s he going to do? Kill her? Negates all the stupid trouble he went to. Punish her? He clearly needs her for something.

Tamlin cannot handle that. There are no Romantic Moments. Nes spends calanmai watching faeries do weird shit out her window. She sure as fuck doesn’t drink faery wine and dance for Tamlin at the solstice. It is not happening.

 So Nesta spends a lot of time alone, wandering around. Talking to Lucien, Alis, random-ass faeries out of sheer reckless ego, reading every book in the ugly manor.

Nesta confronts Lucien. I’m going to go with after the wingless dead faerie and the head in the garden. The stupid blight conversation.

This works differently and better than Feyre’s attempts to get more information for I think, two important reasons. 1) Lucien and Nesta speak the same language in acotar. It’s all anger babes- sharp edged, sexy, bullshit. There’s no cycle of forgiveness then softening- they are the same, too the same, tired and self-hating survivalists bored out of their minds in a gilded death trap. 

and 2) Nesta and Feyre are quintessentially perceived differently. Feyre is hopeful- tenacious, young, free. She shakes up things for these old ass faeries and gives them something to believe in. It’s youth for the eternally young. 

Nesta...is not that. She gets under your skin, forever. Multiple faeries meet her throughout the books and have very extreme reactions to that- but what matters at this point, as a mortal- Nesta reads as an adult. She’s immune to glamour. Her strength isn’t kindness or an open heart, it’s fucking steel that might take your last breathe.

And look, Lucien would respond to that. Tamlin...isn’t even talking to the girl his people died to get him. The curse is almost over and they’re all going to get tortured. Nesta, has, from day one, known something is wrong- she’s so angry, and it makes it easier for Lucien to be angry.

It’s not hunting bros who become Real Friends, it’s fire and gasoline. Empowerment.

So, I haven’t read acotar in ages- but I’m pretty sure they literally couldn’t tell her about Tamlin’s curse. But Lucien can communicate around the magical fuckery- there’s a great evil. The kids in Winter are all dead because of another High Lord. 

And look, Nesta cares about dead kids. She even, begrudgingly, cares about Lucien. She does not give a single flying fuck about the High Lords.

But Lucien, in this world, is the first one to say it: Hybern. 

Amarantha is Hybern’s general, and Hybern wants all of Prythian. All of it. 

Nesta is absolutely going to walk into the fire to keep the humans- and by extent, her sisters- safe from faeries. 

Tamlin- because he does not love Nesta- doesn’t send her away. Doesn’t crush any savage hope Lucien harbored, doesn’t do shit. He gives up.

And so Spring is dragged beneath the Mountain.

Nesta has exactly two advantages on her side: she can see through glamour, so she’s not 100% disoriented and vulnerable (just..you know, terrified), and sheer force of will.

Amarantha likes will. She likes to break it, and there are so few real contenders left after her victory. 

Nesta doesn’t bargain- Nesta doesn’t beg for Tamlin’s life and love- she asks to win her own. 

Amarantha wants to crush her like a bug. Insignificant little human- but wouldn’t it be more fun to watch each little crack form?

So she gets the riddle. Tamlin’s power is thrown in like the boring chekovs gun that it is. Lucien (probably) gets beat up because Lucien always gets beat up under the Mountain. 

Nesta has two choices: she can answer the (stupidly cliched, easy) riddle right there, and try to walk out. (Nesta knows she’s not making it out alive). Or she can wait, and play the game. (She’ll be damned if she doesn’t take that insane bitch and maybe Tamlin down with her. Her only ally is Lucien and he’s being hauled off with a bleeding headwound soo..)

Nesta lets herself be dragged away. She doesn’t fight. 

Let us remember again, that the Archeron sisters are built like a triptych. A presumable almost mother maiden crone. They look alike, especially Nesta and Feyre. If Rhysie boy thinks Feyre is hot at first glance, guess what he also thinks about Nesta?

So, yes, of course he goes to offer a deal. And let’s be clear on something- when Feyre hated Rhysands guts, what did he like about her? That she was beautiful, absolutely didn’t give a fuck, and what’s that? Fought with him.

She lets him heal her, but then- Nesta won’t even talk to him. Nothing he does works. They come to agreement (which Rhysand finds fascinating, a human with loyalty, that human heart) that Nesta will listen to Rhysand’s offer if and when, he delivers to her a whole, safe, Lucien Vanserra.

Rhys frames this as emotional torture. Incentive. He doesn’t need to play evil as well- Nesta hates fucking faeries. And she knows he killed a bunch of children. 

So Lucien gets thrown in the cell. Minimally healed. About to embark on the misery train, self-deprecating laughter at the fact he’s healed, now, because of Nesta. 

Lucien: so nice of you to make sure we’re all pretty before we die, Archeron. Final night spent huddling for warmth together?

Nesta: Shut up. Shut up- tell me why the fuck Rhysand would be trying to make a deal with me.

They come to the conclusion that, while Rhysand is a monster, he also has no control of his own. He’s completely under Amarantha’s thumb, and apparently, wants out.

Nesta, because she always goes for the jugular, has another thought: Are you really going to go back to Spring after this? He gave up. He gave up and you were rotting in a cell.

Lucien, to whom Nesta is both gasoline and mean friend catnip, but who is also a Sad Boi: where else can I go?

So they make a plan. Rhysand thinks Nesta is the key to killing Amarantha? Cool, Amarantha needs to die. Tamlin is the only High Lord who has access to his power more readily? Tamlin needs to do the killing. 

What does Nesta want? There to be no Hybern coming to burn the land where her sisters live. To go back, to go home- but Nesta doesn’t think, even for a second, she’s really going to make it out alive. And if she does, as she thinks late at night, of Feyre’s laugh, or Elain’s quiet humor- how will it ever be safe? They live on the Wall.

Nesta is known to faeries now- Nesta is infamous, and there’s nothing to stop anyone, should her presence lead them back to her home.

Nesta privately decides Tamlin should die too.

So when the time comes, and Rhysand is like, I’ll protect you, you’ll be mine and you’ll be healed- Nesta says no. Nesta, because she really has never learned to back down- looks dead in the eye of the High Lord of Night, the monster who sleeps beside Amarantha and says: safe passage.

She’ll do what Rhys wants, for this: Lucien Vanserra’s safe passage to a safe place, and for Rhysand to promise not to get in her way when she answers the riddle.

Rhys still wants her to come to the Night Court- for whatever nebulous reasons he wanted Feyre to...which only make sense AFTER she’s changed by the High Lords...which Rhysie couldn’t have known, BUT ANYWAY- Nesta says yes. She doesn’t expect she’ll be alive to pay.

Lucien sulks back to Tamlin’s side, and spends a few weeks between challenges laying it on thick. A quiet whisper that grows, a perfect stroke to Tamlin’s volatile ego. How dare Amarantha, how dare Nesta- Tamlin is a Lord, Tamlin is Spring- Tamlin, who has suffered so much more than the other Lords, deserves his power back. 

Nesta is dragged out for the final challenge.

In one of the long, dangerous hallways, her guards look the other way for just a moment- for a visitor. The High Lady of Autumn knows her son is safe because of this girl. 

She hands Nesta a knife. A small gift- all she can. Steel, not ash, small enough it will go unnoticed.

Nesta is dragged before the throne, before the High Lords, Tamlin and Amarantha, Rhysand.

Nesta answers the riddle.

And when Amarantha refuses to abide the rules- Tamlin, carefully manipulated without coordinating by both Rhys and Lucien, goes apeshit.

This does not stop Amarantha from hurting Nesta. The opposite- she’s trapped in the fight between them. When Amarantha does give Tamlin over the power, it doesn’t stop- unloved by even a human, and now she’d take any chance he’d had to win her as he really was.

Nesta doesn’t stab Amarantha. Nesta lays there, bleeding to death, biding her time.

Tamlin murders Amarantha. Rhysand doesn’t beg, but he’s there, getting growled at by Lucien as he tried to staunch Nesta’s wounds.

Amarantha dies, and Tamlin, glowing with power, makes his way to Nesta. They think he’s going to heal her- to try, but Tamlin is Tamlin, so he pulls her into his arms.

Nesta, who knows she’s going to die- Nesta, who was taken from her home, her family, deprived of her life by the choices of this man- Nesta lets Tamlin embrace her, the arrogant, stupid bastard, and stabs him in the throat.

It is the golden, desperate words of Lucien Vanserra that convince the High Lords to heal her. It is Rhysand who tries first, who gives the most. After all- Tamlin had been too selfish to try, and they’d all suffered for it. Faery justice: swift and bloody.

Nesta had died victorious. Nesta died with a bloody autumn court dagger in one hand and the grip of her only real friend in the other- but death was chaos. Skies and stars and howling wind, love and blood and war.

A thousand miles away, Cassian awoke screaming, clawing at his own chest.

She climbed through blood and battle, dreams and hope, floated to an infinite sky: and found herself alive.

Breathing, whole, an immortal monster. On her way to the Court of Night with Lucien by her side. 

[xbarrjallenx]

Game Night

Pairing: Hargreeves!Siblings x Gender-Neutral!Sibling!Reader

Summary: The Hargreeves siblings bonded with each other through their game night, a moment when peace and quiet weren’t welcome in their house.

Requested: Yes / No

Word count: 1.413

Posted: 14.08.2020

Warning(s): Siblings banter, swearing

Song inspiration: - 

A/N: Hello, guys! It has been a while since I last posted something and I am truly sorry, but I was in a really bad place for a very long time. Gladly, The Umbrella Academy season 2 came out recently and it gave me some inspirations to continue my writing. It’s my first TUA imagine, so comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated. Also, English is not my first language and my writing is very rusty and inexperient. - G. x

Take note: Ben is alive.

Links: Masterlist | Song inspirations | Support My Writing

“UNO!” Klaus excitedly announced as he threw his next-to-last UNO card on the wooden centre table, only one card remaining on his left hand. You, together with your other six siblings, shot him a sharp death glare, miffed and tired of him and his actions.

It was the Hargreeves siblings’ game night and the game was either UNO or Monopoly. Everyone happily chose the former, outnumbering the latter, to avoid another huge family mess - Monopoly ruined your relationship with each other many times and the last game turned out so badly that Allison and Diego almost killed Five for bankrupting them.

“What do you mean UNO again?” Diego frustratingly asked his brother, grip tightening around the massive deck of cards in his hand. He got a huge chain of Draw Twos and Wild Draw Fours in the previous turn, needing to draw eighteen cards in total for the stacking penalty. 

Klaus nonchalantly laughed, grabbing another bottle of beer from the table. “It’s just a game. Chill out, Diego!” 

Ben took a stinging and deep sigh, frowning as he faced Klaus once again. “Yes, it is just a game, but we have been playing for more than an hour now and neither of us has won, except for you.”

“Sore losers!” The defending champion playfully remarked, enjoying his siblings’ disputes while admiring his new bottle of beer.

“Shut the fuck up!” You all shouted in unison while you threw every cushion towards Klaus’ direction. 

Klaus kept on laughing, neatly hiding his precious card under a cushion as he grabbed the bottle opener. “I am loving this moment so much!”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of beer. “I swear, Klaus! If you’re using your powers again to win this game, you’re dead.” 

“I bet he is!” Luther commented and the rest of the siblings agreed to his statement, Ben and Vanya shaking their heads in disbelief. 

Klaus nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “It’s not my fault if I am extremely talented.” 

“Yeah, Cheater, your Caspers should be banned from this house.” Diego muttered, eyes now focused on his deck. 

“Klaus, you are no fun!” Ben pointed out, remembering him the rules of not using your powers during game night soon after.

Five obnoxiously cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “Are we done crying? You are interrupting my turn!”  

“Bitchy!” Allison and Vanya declared, both of them giving him a go on playing his card.

“Thank you, sisters!” Five sarcastically replied, throwing a Wild Card after taking a huge bite out of his peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. “Yellow!” 

“We are technically against Klaus right now, Five.” Ben rolled his eyes as he had to fish a card.

“Well, actually, thank you, Five!” Vanya proudly smiled, enthusiastically dropping her second last card on the table. “UNO!” 

The champion’s eyes suddenly grew wide, alarmed that he might lose this turn, and Vanya gave him a toothy smile as you and your siblings noisily cheered for her. 

“Luther, please have a reverse card!” You hoped as you played your yellow card. 

“Boring deck, sorry!” Luther sincerely apologised as he dropped a normal yellow card, passing the turn to Diego.

Diego attentively observed his cards and he exasperatedly looked at all of you. “All of these cards, but no fucking yellow. Five, you son of a bitch, where did you learn how to shuffle cards? You’re so bad at it!” 

“Maybe the Game Gods just hate you so much, Diego!” Five counter-attacked and loud chuckles flew across the room. 

“He’s just a kid, Diego,” You playfully pointed out, earning a round of laughter from your siblings. “cut him some slack.” 

“Oh, fucking shut up, (Y/N)!” Five fiercely responded and you laughed louder than the usual, realising how much of a crier the Hargreeves siblings were. 

“Fish a card, loser!” Allison demandingly obligated Diego and he grumbled in response, reporting that he has almost lost his patience for the shitty game that you were playing.

“Please don’t let Klaus win, Allison.” Ben sweetly pleaded, his sweet puppy dog eyes showing.

“Sis, I am about to win,” Vanya reminded her, happily shaking her last UNO card. “please skip Klaus.”

Allison guiltily looked at her cards and silently mumbled an apology, playing a normal yellow card and letting Klaus proceed on his turn. Everyone around the table groaned and hoped that he wasn’t holding a yellow or a same-numbered card.

“Yeah, hate me all you want,” Klaus proudly sang after drinking his beer bottom up, throwing his last card soon after. “but I still fucking won.” 

Complaints and insults flew across the room while the winner celebrated and gave high fives on different empty spots behind him. 

“Fuck you and your ghosts, Cheater!” Ben playfully exclaimed, grip still tight on his cards. 

“You would be my ghost bitch, if (Y/N) didn’t save you that night, idiot!” Klaus reminded him, making Ben sigh exasperatedly. You were shocked that Klaus brought the incident up once again, but before you could comment on it, Diego has already spoken up.

“I am so done with these stupid games.” He messily threw his cards on the table. “Can we abolish game night, please? All of us are, now, adults. Well, most of us.”

“Just because the Game Gods are against you, you want to abolish Hargreeves siblings’ game night? That’s unfair, bro! Besides, it’s the only time we don’t stress about our adulthood.” It was impossible that Diego hadn’t got a possible move earlier so you checked his cards properly and you judgingly looked at him. “For fucking real, dumbass? I refuse to believe this.” 

The siblings started shutting their mouths up and they paid you their whole attention, eyes filled with curiosity. “What?” 

You grabbed a special card from Diego’s deck and raised it in the air. “Diego had the Swap Hand Card and never played it!”

Diego furrowed his eyebrows, not fully understanding what you meant. “The what?” 

“Swap Hand Card.” You repeated. “It meant that you could fucking swap cards to anyone you wanted.” 

“What the hell?” He was still confused, but frustration quickly wrapped his face as soon as he processed the new information. “I thought it was just a Jolly card and I had it in all of the previous games.” 

The room was soonly filled with laughter and insults towards your idiot brother. 

“For fuck’s sake, Diego!” Luther shook his head in disappointment as he loudly laughed, relishing how the Kraken immediately lost his cool.

“We painfully watched Klaus win all the damn time when you had the chance to win big time.” Five smartly observed. “Good job, bro!” 

Diego was vexed and the jokes that you and your siblings were throwing at him surely didn’t help on calming himself down. “Fuck you, all of you!” He grabbed the whole deck of UNO cards and violently tossed it across the living room, messily scattering it everywhere. 

“Classic, Diego!” Allison slowly clapped, mocking her sibling even more.

“Cool move, dimwit!” Klaus joined his sister in and whistled, exaggeratedly clapping afterwards.

Diego flashed his middle fingers and started heading out of the living room, leaving you and your siblings in shambles.

“At least, pick up the cards, asshole!” Five fiercely shouted.

“Leave me alone, kid!” Diego shouted back and Five was about to teleport towards Diego to fight him, but Luther and Vanya grabbed his elbows to stop him. 

“Don’t, you might get hurt big time,” Vanya looked at her brother and flashed a playful smirk. “kid.” 

Five groaned and everyone just laughed tumultuously. “I am the oldest one here, stop calling me a kid.”

“You’re thirteen, fly down, child!” You joked, poking the bear even more with your invisible stick.

Five shook his body to take Luther and Vanya’s hands off of him and showed his middle fingers to flip you off.

“Classy, huh?” You watched him chug his black coffee down, aggressively finishing his favourite sandwich subsequently.

“Well, that was fun!” Ben admitted with a huge smile on his face and Vanya softly smiled back at him to agree on his truthful statement.

Game night was fun, huh? Well, it was, but you were glad it happened only once every two weeks or else the Hargreeves’ residence would not find its peace and quiet ever again.

“You all are so hilarious, guys. My ghosts are having so much fun watching you!” Klaus approached as soon as every sibling has calmed down. “Another round?” 

“Fuck off, Klaus!” 

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 2

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

Disclaimer: Masterlist

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The day before Christmas… was a nightmare. Marinette had to admit that Damian was right. Her parents volunteered to help Alfred in the kitchen. The butler tried to argue, but his fighting with Sabine was an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. In the end, they got a compromise that the baker couple would help that day, but would be banned from the kitchen for the rest of Christmas. 

The boys meanwhile were ordered to decorate the house and prepare the formal dining room. And it was a mess. First, Dick and Jason spent almost an hour arguing over the decorations, only to then see that Mari and Damian already decorated the room with the merchandise Damian somehow got imported from Paris without their knowledge. Jason tried to dismantle the decorations that were put up without a warning, but it ended with Damian chasing him with a sword… again. It didn’t help that Todd kept riling the youngest Wayne up. Technically second-youngest since he was older than Marinette by a few months, but that’s beyond the point.

Then, when Jason ended up with a slight limp after he crashed into a cupboard when trying to cut the corner and Damian’s bloodthirst got satisfied, it was time for decorating the Christmas tree. When Mari saw the tree, she almost toppled over. It was put in the hall before the stairway to the second floor. It was tall enough to almost reach the ceiling. 

“That’s your tree?”

“In my defense, I tried to order a smaller one. It’s not my fault they gave size in the metric system.” Tim argued. 

“If you cut on coffee and instead got some sleep once in a while, maybe you would’ve noticed.” Jason snickered. 

Dick took the opportunity to climb upstairs and start decoration, only to be caught by Steph, who proceeded to decorate on the other side. Seeing the two already started, the three other boys also raced to start putting decorations. It was a mess, but somehow Marinette found it endearing. It felt… homey. Then she grabbed some decorations and joined Damian. Then she teamed up with Steph to make a large bat symbol on one side out of gold tinsel garland. Then she made a red ‘R’ inside it.

And this time nobody got hurt. 

After that, Dick and Jason left for their respective homes. Tim and Steph left shortly after, leaving Damian and Mari alone with the adults. Technically, Cass also stayed at the manor, but unless she wanted to be seen, only Alfred (and now Sabine) could find her. 

The teens decided to stay in the Manor. Marinette was dead set on making everyone their gifts by hand. She brought several unfinished designs that could be adjusted. Damian was kind enough to collect the measurements for each family member from Alfred. 

And so Mari then spent all evening in her room, where she worked on adjusting and finishing everything. She was beyond grateful that her room was already equipped with a sewing machine and anything else she would need to make the gifts. The whole time Damian sat nearby to offer some advice. Mostly, he just enjoyed watching her work on the designs. 

“Do you think putting a Red Robin logo on this tie would be too much?” She asked, showing a red tie with black accents. It had a meticulous black stitch going through the narrow part. It spelled MDC over and over.

“Maybe put it inside, so that it only shows when he put it upside-down,” Damian answered. 

“But then nobody will see it.”

“There is a bigger chance someone sees it than if it’s on the front.” The boy deadpanned. 

“Don’t be mean.” She scolded him, but her pearly laughter kinda ruined it. She put the tie away and reached for the sunglasses she was working on. They used to be black, but she tinted the glass deep-red and then added details at the side. Now, there was a small silver bullet-shaped decoration where they would fold. She had a case ready where she stitched the shape of a red handgun at the top of black leather. 

“And this?”

“Habibti. They will definitely love your gifts.” He gave her a soft smile. “If not, I will introduce them to my sword” He muttered, hoping she would not hear it.

“Damian!” She shouted. His hopes went in flames. “No murdering people!”

“Can I at least maim?” He asked with a hopeful voice.

“Hm… only if you ask me before.” She giggled at his expression. 

“I think it is high time I retreat to my bedroom. It’s almost midnight, Angel. Go to sleep.” He stood up and walked outside, only to be met with Sabine’s judging eyes. She watched him carefully before smiling slightly. 

“Good. You can go. I will tuck her in.” 

After she passed him, Damian let out a breath he didn’t know he held. That woman was scary.

--------

The next morning was still hectic, but no longer so chaotic. Mari spent half of it locked in her room giving the designs final touches. She did not let Damian or her parents in since she focused on their gifts and didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Alfred was the only one who got a peek inside and he didn’t even fear Sabine, so the chances he would tell anything to anyone were less than Joker genuinely apologizing to everyone he ever hurt. 

Finally, around midday, Marinette finally revealed herself. The room was a mess of cut fabric, loose papers, and Kwami knows what else. There was also a bowl of water in the corner. 

“That was a race.” She commented before grabbing Damian’s hand and dragging him into the living room to share a tea and cookies. All adults cooed. 

“So, Habibti. Care to reveal what you made for me?” The boy asked hopefully once they were both sitting side-by-side on the two-people couch. She held a cup of steaming tea while Damian put his in a small cup holder while he was eating a cookie. 

“Nope.” She grinned. “But I can tell you that you will like it.” 

“From you? I will like any gift.” He answered smoothly.

“Stop it!” She squealed, blushing heavily. “You can’t say things like that out of the blue.”

“Why?” He asked, giving her a barely noticeable smile.

“I can’t go around blushing all the time!” 

“But you look so cute with red cheeks.” 

“You don’t look so bad either, Mi Amor,” she retorted. She wanted to get some reaction from him, but he only smiled slightly more. 

They rested, cuddled together for a bit, enjoying the silence that surrounded them. It was interrupted when suddenly Cass dropped out of the blue. Or from the ceiling, but they would’ve sworn she was not there before. 

“You… Cousin?” The girl asked. 

“Oh! You must be Cassandra!” Mari recognized her. Cass was maybe her height. She was dressed in workout clothes. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“Marinette,” Cass repeated. “Call me Cass. Everyone does.” 

“Um… Sure. You can call me Mari if you like?” Both Damian and Cass grinned at that, much to the french girl’s confusion. “Did I miss some joke?”

“No, Angel. It’s just that Grayson’s daughter is named Mar’i” Damian looked at his beloved’s expression. 

“Oh. Oh…” The realization dawned on her. “Well, then what about… Nettie?”

“Nettie… Like it.” Cass responded.

“Cass doesn’t speak much.” The boy took it upon himself to explain. “She first learned to communicate through body gestures.” 

“Maman told me. I can’t believe aunt Sandra left you with that monster. Maman told her some things though, so maybe next time you two meet she will apologize.” 

“Mother… Apologize… Me?” The girl asked in disbelief.

“Maman is a very persuasive person.”

Cass didn’t speak about that, but a memory of the hug two of them shared yesterday surfaced at the top of her thoughts. 

“Anyway, you wanted to get to know me? Well… um… I’m fifteen, soon to be sixteen. I love fashion and design and I make almost all of my clothes. I also practice some martial arts in my free time. I love sketching outdoors. There is this small park next to my parent’s bakery that I love to visit. In the past, I adored the works of Gabriel brand, but after the owner turned out to be a major bastard I kinda decided to just stick to my own stuff. What else… I prefer tea to coffee unless I need to pull an all-nighter, my favorite sweets are macarons and my uncle named his soup after me when he won the cooking competition.”

“Soup… good?” Cass decided to ask. 

“Oh! It’s the best. Actually, maybe we could ask uncle Wang to cook for our wedding, Dami! Can we? He would be invited anyway but then people would get to…” 

“Of course, Habibti.” Damian interrupted her.

“Wedding?” Cass had more questions.

“Oh… Um… You didn’t know?” Marinette doubled back. “Of course you didn’t know. Damian tried to keep it down and I ruined it. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry Dami! I forgot! I was just so…” 

Damian, following the usual routine when Mari started to panic, pulled her to his chest, and hugged her. He whispered something low enough for Cassandra not to hear. She did notice the couple’s body language. Devotion and love.

When Marinette finally calmed, Damian let her out of his embrace. “Thanks. I still keep some of my… less desirable habits.” 

“It’s no problem. At least I have an excuse to cuddle with you without my brothers’ merciless teasing.” 

“Wedding.” Cass urged them. Her curiosity was peaking. 

“Ah! Right. So basically Talia kidnapped me and decided I would marry her son and then we both woke up tied before the altar and she threatened to kill us and our families if we didn’t go through with it. And I was so scared back then. And T… And I had no way to do anything else.” 

Cass saw her tense and stopped herself. There was more to it, but she didn’t drill. She would learn later. Or just get it out of Tim. He knew everything. 

“Well, now we’re stuck and there is this weird spell on us that makes it impossible to cheat on one another. At least I assume it works both ways since Damian didn’t test it.” There was no doubt in her voice and her body showed complete trust. Cass was actually impressed. 

“The bitch that my mother is,” Marinette wanted to scold Damian on the language he used, but then again, he spoke about Talia so he wasn’t lying, “used some old curse on us, probably from the time my grandfather was still young. We are tied together. But we made it work.” 

“Magic… bad.” Cass scoffed. 

“No!” Mari quickly protested. “I mean not all magic is bad. It all depends on who uses it! Besides, everything turned out better than I could’ve ever hoped.” 

“Good. I… Like you.” Her cousin smiled. “Hug?” She asked.

“Sure.” Marinette nodded and before she knew it Cass tackled her into the couch, almost breaking her bones. 

“Oooh!” a new voice cooed. Damian immediately whirled around with a small dagger that he pulled from wherever he kept it. Selina Kyle was standing there, watching everything.

“Tt. I don’t like being spied upon.” Damian scowled. 

“Relax, lover-boy. I just came and I was curious where everyone went and who were the new people.” 

“Oh. That’s probably my parents. Alfred kicked them out of the kitchen today. They will probably be relaxing in the garden since they rarely have a chance to just relax. They run a bakery in Paris.” Mari smiled at the newcomer. 

“Really now? And you’re the unlucky girl that got stuck with the short, dark, and brooding?”

“Tt. I’m not short.”

“I don’t hear you arguing about the dark and brooding part.” Selina teased. 

“Angel, meet my father’s fiancée, Selina Kyle. She is also Catwoman.”

“Oh. She is in on the family business then?”

“Tt. Yes. I don’t keep things hidden from my wife.” Damian kept scowling.

“Aren’t you a dutiful husband?”

“I’m not afraid to defend my wife’s honor with a sword, thief.” The boy threatened. Selina measured him for a moment.

“Good.” She turned to Marinette. “He will do. If he is causing you trouble, you can crash at my place.” She gave her a small square paper with an address before leaving. 

“Um… What was that?”

“Tt. That was Selina for you.” Damian was still in a bad mood until Marinette snuggled closer to him. 

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

Around five, the guests started arriving. It was unanimously decided that the youngest couple would be the ones to greet their guests. And looking at the size of the table, there would be more guests than Mari assumed. Damian was now dressed in a flawless black suit with a matching bowtie and a white shirt. Mari chose to wear the red dress that she knew left Damian speechless every time he saw her. Her hair was let go and formed waves cascading down her back. 

Jason was first. He came on his bike alone. While everyone dressed in something elegant, he opted for an oil-stained t-shirt and brown leather jacket, complete with black cargo pants and heavy boots. Marinette had to admit he gave a bad-boy vibe that told her to stay away. But she’s seen this with Ivan and she was pretty sure Jason was, in fact, a big softie once one got to know him. 

Next to arrive were Tim and Stephanie. She wore a black and purple knee-length dress. It had no sleeves and hugged her form tightly. The design was several large squares of material sewn together so no two colors were the same. It was an interesting design. Tim wore a blue suit with black accents and a white shirt. They looked like a nice couple. And the boy looked almost awake, which was a success. Also, they were dragging a giant bag of gifts. 

Shortly after, a small van pulled close and five people exited. There was an older couple, a joyful boy around their age jumping around them, and two people Marinette recognized instantly. You couldn’t hang around Alya and not recognize Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent.

“Tt. Jon.” Damian greeted the boy.

“Sup Dames? Hello fair lady.” He greeted them, happiness almost oozing from him. Jon went as far as kissing her hand. 

“Could you stop with the flowers and rainbows?” Wayne growled.

“But it’s Christmas!”

“Tt. I know.” Damian was angry. Seeing it, his beloved grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly.

“Hello Mr. Kent, Mrs. Lane-Kent.” Marinette greeted the adults, hoping to diffuse the situation  before Damian gets too riled up. 

“You must be Marinette. I remember Jon mentioning you when we talked about his trip to Paris.” Clark smiled. He then nodded toward the older couple. “These are my parents, Johnathan and Martha Kent.”

“It’s nice to meet ya, girl.” The man nodded toward her. 

“Hi. I’m Marinette.” She gave them a smile. Just as the Kents went inside, another car pulled in. 

This time, it was Dick with his wife, Kor’i, and daughter Mar’i. They all got out of the car.

“I still don’t understand why you insist on driving this thing. I could’ve flown us here twice as fast.” The woman had distinctively orange skin and her eyes were entirely green. Marinette instantly recognized her as Starfire. She wore a white shirt with bell-like sleeves that reached to her elbows and blue jeans that ended just above her ankles. Dick had a dark-gray shirt and jeans. She would classify their outfits as smart casual. 

“Yeah, daddy! I can fly too!” To prove her point, the little girl rose a bit into the air. She was dressed in an oversized purple jumper that reached to the ground. She also wore white trainers. Her skin was less orange than her mother’s but the color was easily visible. And her eyes were also entirely green without any white. And she was flying. Her hair was black though, as opposed to her mother’s fiery red. 

“Sweety. Come here.” Kor’i reached up and grabbed the floating daughter. The girl immediately nuzzled into her and smiled victoriously. She got exactly what she wanted. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.

“Tt. I still find her annoying.” Damian scowled. 

“I don’t know, she looks cute to me. And you already admitted that you love cute things.” To make things worse for her love, Marinette gave him puppy eyes and a bright smile. He tried to scowl, but couldn’t muster enough strength to oppose his wife.

Dick almost tripped over the car when he started laughing. 

Since they were the last to arrive, Marinette and Damian returned inside to join everyone for festivities. 

----------

Somewhere else, in a much darker place, a lone figure stood in an empty room. His clothes were dirty and torn. The light entered only through a small window. 

“So you see? It was all a set-up!” He shouted. 

From the shadows, another figure joined. 

“But of course, sweetie. Of course.” They said in a patronizing tone. “I will of course help you.”

“You understand me. And what about… Marinette?” 

“I don’t understand your obsession with her, but I can share.” 

“Whatever. She will be mine!”

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Masterlist // Next

[prioritysope]

Cheating

Reader: Female

Character: Oikawa Tooru

Rating: Explicit

Chapter: 25/26

"Are you nervous about going to Argentina?" Sumi spoke, putting a pair of shorts on Gaby's bed.

It had been two months since Oikawa and Gaby had graduated, and they had decided to share the two months of summer with all their closest ones to be able to enjoy a little before going to Argentina.

Now it was only Sumi, Sakura, and Akira helping Gaby pack the last suitcase before leaving tonight. She could admit that she was too nervous, as it would be a totally different country from Japan where she was born and raised; however, she is totally sure that she wants to go and support her boyfriend in everything.

"I admit that I am nervous. I know it will be hard for us to get used to a country with totally different language and customs." She took some last clothes from the closet, to go to bed to arrange them and put them in the suitcase.

"I hope you call us once in a while or send us a present, bitch." Now Akira spoke, causing everyone to laugh.

The girls kept talking about any topic until Gaby received a message from Oikawa for her and the girls to go to Matsukawa's apartment, so they could all enjoy themselves before it was time to leave.

----

"Let's all admit that it will be weird to hear Tooru speaking Spanish if he ever comes back to Japan and we see each other." Takahiro commented after taking a sip of his beer.

"Wouldn't the weird thing be that you're drinking beer at 5 in the afternoon?" Issei said, letting out a laugh.

"Suck my dick." Makki hissed at Mattsun, pulling his middle finger out.

"Get me a microscope, and I'll gladly do it." He replied, making the rest laugh again.

Anyone could see from a thousand kilometers how nervous Oikawa was about going to Argentina. He knew this was for his future, he knows that Gaby will be there to support him, just like she has done since they met. At least he won't be alone in the other part of the world.

He would totally miss his friends, his family. Absolutely everything. All the equipment was at Matsukawa's apartment, as they wanted them to share one last time before taking Tooru and Gaby to the airport. Even Iwaizumi was there. For the peace of the team, since everything happened, they decided not to talk about it so as not to cause problems.

Oikawa was in the kitchen when he heard someone call him from behind. When he turned around, he saw Iwaizumi motioning for him to come closer. Tooru frowned in clear confusion. Since all the trouble happened, the only thing they talked about was Volleyball; so, it was strange to him that he spoke to him outside of that. However, curiosity grew in him and he went to him.

"What's wrong, Hajime?"

"I just wanted to talk to you alone, no problem." He said, noticing the nervousness in his voice.

Oikawa looked for his phone, thus noting the time. Gaby would arrive soon, and the least he would like is for her to see him talking to Iwaizumi and get upset or something similar. Although according to her, she doesn't have any grudge against Hajime.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Tooru wanted to get straight to the point.Iwaizumi let out a deep breath, taking the courage to speak. Nor is it that she was going to say something bad; she just wanted to say it without making it sound bad or rude. What she least she wanted was more trouble with him who used to be his best friend and his ex-girlfriend.

"I know I've already apologized, but no matter how many times I do it, I feel like it's not enough. I hurt Gaby, and it's totally my fault that she's no longer by my side. There's no excuse for what I did to her, because it was complete stupidity on my part. He doesn't ask me to forgive him the first time, until I will understand if she hates me."

"Don't worry, Hajime. I don't hold a grudge against you." Both boys jumped in surprise to hear the female's voice. They weren't expected to come that fast, much less listen. "Yes, you caused me a lot of damage. But I also made the mistake of accepting Tooru's proposal, when I could just break up with you and then go with him. However, my anger with you led me to it."

It seemed like today was confession night.

"I appreciate that you took the courage to say so before it was too late. You know that I will always wish you the best in the world, and you will always have my support." Gaby finished, giving him a smile.

The atmosphere didn't feel so heavy anymore. It was as if a great burden had been released at that precise moment. All three agreed that it was time to settle down, as their adult life was just beginning and they weren't going to spend their entire lives hating themselves for that sort of thing. Although Iwaizumi knows of the damage that he caused to her, and he will always live regretful and will learn from it so as not to do it again in the future.

"Thank you very much, Gabs, seriously." Hajime sighed in relief, briefly closing his eyes. "I also wanted to wish them the best in Argentina, and taking the opportunity to tell them that I too will go, but to the USA to study."

"Really? That's amazing, Haji." Gaby exclaimed, totally sincere about being happy for him.

"Time to go, guys!" Matsukawa exclaimed, jingling the car keys.

-----

They were both already at Haneda Airport, the boys had brought them and decided to leave quickly so as not to cry. They wished both of them the best of luck, asking him to go to Japan from time to time on vacation or to go to Argentina.

"Ready, love?" Oikawa asked her girlfriend, taking her hand to entwine her fingers and devoting her gaze to her beautiful face.

Gaby looked up, in order to maintain eye contact with him. She squeezed her hand, turning to look at the people already beginning to enter the long corridor toward the plane. She swallowed hard, then closing her eyes for a few seconds before opening them and looking at Tooru again, to nod.

"Argentina, here we go." They both muttered at the same time before getting on the plane that will totally change their lives.

[writing-mermaid]

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy

Summary : Y/N McCoy, daughter of Jack McCoy works as ADA Carisi’s PA. Before that, Y/N was sort of the Cinderella of the DA’s office working in the dust of the archives. When the DA’s Christmas ball is themed as a Masquerade, maybe it’s time for Cinderella to meet her prince charming, with a little help of her fairy best friend, Katriona Tamin.

Pairing : Sonny Carisi x reader

Warnings : Language, consomption of alcohol, Cinderella AU, some flashbacks, Vanessa Hadid is a bitch (but as she always is it really a warning ?).

Word Count : 14 682

Author’s note : Written for @thatesqcrush‘s Holiday B!ngo: Naughty & Nice filling the free square, and for @sweetcannolicarisi ’s Disney bingo. I know those two bingos are over now but I really wanted to post it between Christmas & New Year, but life stroked hard and I couldn’t write. Ball dress is inspired by the one from the movie A Cinderella Christmas. Don’t forget that feedback is appreciated and really important.

Song of the title : Truly, Madly, Deeply - Savage Garden

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“Assistant District Attorney Carisi’s office, Y/N speaking, what can I do for you ?”, I say, repeating this sentence on a loop all day long.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, I just hate doing it in a fucking hallway, next to my new boss small and windowless new office. Well at least now he has an office, we’re not forced to squat in empty rooms all around the building.

  “Oh, hello Captain Benson. How can I help you ?”

“Hello Y/N, can you please ask Carisi to sign me a warrant for a perquisition please ? I emailed you the application. Kat will pick it in less than an hour. Can you do that for me ?”

“Sure, Olivia, consider it done”, I answer.

“Thanks Y/N have a nice day”, she says.

“Have a nice day too Olivia”, I reply, hanging up the phone.

  I take a look at the clock facing my desk, 10:30 am. I open Captain Benson’s mail and print the papers she joined in. I get up to the printer, passing next to the break room. It’s time for ADA Carisi’s coffee. I take the papers from the printer and enter the break room. I put down the papers on the table and pour a warm and steamy coffee into ADA Carisi’s usual mug and heat some water for my tea. I put two sugars in his coffee and pour the hot water into my mug with sugar. The papers under my armpit and the two mugs in both my hands I walk back to my desk, where I put down my own mug, and then walk towards his office. I lightly knock on the door before his voice tells me to come in.

  “Good morning counsellor”, I say, stepping in the windowless office.

“Good morning, Y/N”, he looks up. “And I already told you to call me Sonny. We work together for a year now, don’t you think it’s time to call me by my name, huh ?”, he smiles at me, with that charming smile that makes me melt.

“I can’t promise anything”, I shrug, returning his smile. “First of all, here’s your coffee”, I say, putting down the cup in front of him.

“Just how I like it”, he hums, taking a sip of it.

“Second, I had a phone call from Captain Benson, she asked if you could sign that warrant”, I add, handing him the papers, his thumb brushing mine when he takes it. “Kat will take it in something like thirty minutes to an hour.”

“I’ll get this ready and let you know when it’s done.”

“Thanks counsellor”, I say going back to the door. “By the way”, I add, turning back to him, “remember that I don’t work this afternoon, it’s my…”

“Monthly lunch date with you dad”, he cuts me. “I know that Miss McCoy, you and I work together for a year, every third Thursday of the month, you have lunch and spend the afternoon with your dad and I always managed to look after myself on those days. So as usual, go eat with your dad and have fun with him. Maybe you’ll start your Christmas errands. Don’t worry for me Y/N, I can handle myself for an afternoon, he smiles at me again. So have a nice lunch and afternoon with your dad Y/N.”

“Have a nice afternoon, counse…”, I can see his finger raising, “Dominick”, I finish before going out, a small smile playing on my lips, almost bumping in Serena, the mail girl.

“Y/N”, she nods at me coldly.

“Serena”, I answer, mirroring her tone.

“Hello Dominick”, I can hear her say with that honeyed voice she uses every time she talks to him, making me sick.

  When I go back to my desk, a pile of mail is waiting for me, next to it, two letters. The first one says, ‘Mr. John McCoy’ and the second one ‘Miss Y/N McCoy’. Even retired, my father still receives his invitation for the annual police and DA’s office ball. This year it’s a week before Christmas. As usual, I’m more like his plus one than a real guest, it seems that the office feels obligated to invite me to those balls because my father is the great Jack McCoy. A legend for some. I don’t know if counselor Carisi made the connection between my name and the fact that my father is probably one of the most famous ADA this city ever had, when I’m just a personal assistant.

  Sometimes, I’m wondering if they accepted me here because of him, like he asked them for a favor. I started to work here eight years ago. Not as a PA, it would have been too good to be true. There was no place for me. I was put in the archives, doing research for the attorneys, the ADAs, the DAs, the police, everyone who needed it. For a little time, I was ADA Barba’s PA, his was sick and I did the job for two or three months, time she came back. Working with Barba was a learning experience. Of course, I’ve already seen my dad work as an ADA, because I spent a lot of time in his office when I was little after my mom left him, and me in the process, but working with Barba was different, he had different methods, a different way of working. Barba was a great guy, seemed righteous, he was nice to me, even if I can’t say that we were friends or close, I was utterly shocked when I heard about that baby story and that he resigned. I was back in my archive hole when I learned about it. I haven’t met counsellor Carisi, detective back then, while I helped Barba, to be honest, I worked at the other side of the hall, in a proper office, I just caught a glimpse of his tall blond frame from afar. My first impression from my viewing point, he made me think about the character of a book from my childhood, Daddy-Long-Legs. He was tall and lanky, just like the mystery man from the book. I never really saw his face nor his beautiful blue eyes before Vanessa Hadid assigned me to be his PA.

After Barba left, a new ADA came to town, Peter Stone. My father knew his, but Peter and I never met before. He was cute and very nice, he brought me teas and pastries almost every day, and from time to time, we had lunch together. One night, after a few drinks, Peter and I had sex. Nothing committed, just a one-night stand, with no promises, between two consenting adults. The next morning wasn’t even awkward, we both had our fun and we stayed friend, occasionally having lunch or a drink. His sister’s death totally crushed him, and he had a lot of problems. Alcohol, sex, he was on a downward spiral. He left after having been set up by a so-called friend.

Then, Sonny came along. On his first day, Ms. Hadid called me from her office and said I had to come upstairs. I complied, knowing that as she didn’t like me, I should obey. I straighten my clothes and put my hair in order in one of the bathrooms before knocking on her office door. She told me to come in and he was there. He turned around and smiled down at me. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, a charming smile, white teeth, tailored three-pieces blue suit, I was breathless, wondering why I never saw him closer before. I was totally swooned by the man in front of me. I might have stared too long because Ms. Hadid cleared her throat.

  “Good morning Y/N let me introduce to you the new assistant district attorney, Dominick Carisi Jr. Counsellor Carisi, this is Y/N McCoy”, she introduced us both.

“Nice to meet you Ms. McCoy”, he said, smiling bigger and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you too, counsellor Carisi”, I replied, letting him take my hand in his bigger one. “What can I do for you Ms. Hadid ?”, I finally asked, when he let go of my hand.

“Nothing, I just wanted to congratulate you on your promotion.”

“My promotion ma’am ?”, I asked, completely shocked.

“Yes, your promotion. You are, from now, ADA Carisi’s personal assistant. Congratulations.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I just opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish out of its bowl. Was it a cruel joke ? After all this time she was finally giving me the position I applied for the first time I passed the Bureau’s door ? For real ?

  “I… I… Thank… Thank you”, I stuttered. “I’m glad that you trust me enough to assist our new ADA.”

“I’m pretty sure that you will make a very good team”, she responded, smiling. “Let’s find you both an office”, she added.

  An office, we didn’t get it before a few weeks ago. For a year, ADA Carisi and I moved from rooms to rooms, to rooms. It was the worst way to do our jobs. Forced to be in the same room for two very different works. Not that I didn’t like to be in the same room, who would complain after all, Dominick was, and still is, a charming and handsome man, always ready to please people around him and very dedicated to his job. Each morning, he brought me an Italian pastry, still does though, and I grew really fond of him. We exchanged a few things during the few breaks he took or during lunch break, that I had, and still have, to remind him. He explained his path to me, why he wanted to be a lawyer, after having been a cop. I told him about my dad being an attorney too, retired now, but not that he was one of the most important ADA this city had. I still think that it’s strange that he still haven’t made the connection. He asked me why I was a PA and I just answered that it was because I liked that job, and that I probably wasn’t made to be an attorney.

Hadid was right, Sonny and I made a great team. I can’t help but feel like if Hadid paired us, it’s because she don’t like us. ADA Carisi because he was a cop and still has a strong bond with SVU and me because of who my father is. She didn’t expect for us to be such a good team. After a year working together, we have a whole routine. I remind him when it’s time to eat or to have a break, so sometimes, we go together for fresh air, taking a coffee down the street when he’s not too busy. It has been strange a few weeks ago when Hadid finally told us that Sonny would have an office. I thought that finally we would have a proper room to work. When we saw his office, the first question he asked wasn’t to question about the inexistant windows of the room, but where I would work, because there were not enough room for two desks. Hadid simply shrugged and said that they would put a desk for me in the hallway, by the door. I know he was about to protest and to say that if I couldn’t have a proper office or couldn’t be in the same room, he wouldn’t accept that office. But I opened my mouth before he opened his and said it was perfect and that I was willing to wait a little for a proper office. That’s how I ended up here.

  “Hey ! Earth to Y/N, are you here ?”

  I snap back to reality feeling a hand shaking my shoulder.

  “Jesus Christ Kat”, I almost shout. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Well, I told you I was here but, it seems that you didn’t hear me. Too lost in your thoughts, looking down at those envelopes. DA ball”, she adds looking over my shoulder.

“Yep.”

“Going with your dad ?”

“As usual.”

  My brown-haired friend sits down on the chair facing my desk.

  “Coffee ?”, I ask her, and at the same time, Serena exits from ADA Carisi’s office, giggling.

“Have a good day Dominick”, she continues to giggle closing the door from Sonny’s office, and I can feel anger and jealousy rise in me, my free fist, and my jaw clenching. “Oh, and have a good day too McCoy”, she says, walking in front of me, pushing her little cart.

  I really can’t stand that girl. She does everything to make me lose my mind.

  “Just go ahead and punch her freaking face, I would gladly enjoy seeing that”, Kat states. “And to be honest, I don’t think that she’s Carisi’s type”, she adds.

“What ?”, I question, turning to her.

“You perfectly know what I’m talking about Y/N.”

“No”, I bite back.

“Oh yes, you know. You have a think for our ADA friend in here and I know it. And I’m not the only one who saw it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Kat”, I sigh. “I have to tell him to not forget to eat when I’m gone.”

“Y/N , you’re mothering him, just like you do with your father”, Kat says.

“I don’t”, I respond. “I’m just reminding him that he has to eat and to take breaks sometimes. He’s so into his work that he barely think to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom. He’s really dedicated to what he’s doing.”

“Y/N”, Kat sighs, “Carisi is a big boy, he’s supposed to know when to stop.”

“Oh, he doesn’t believe me.”

“And you’re not his mom. But you could be his girlfriend. Getting lay would do you good. To both of you. And I saw how he looks at you. With enamored eyes.”

“He doesn’t look at me that way Kat, I’m just his assistant.”

“Well, if you don’t want to see, I’ll not insist. Let’s talk about that ball. I’m going too and my dear friend, this year, I’ll make a princess out of the perfect worker that you are !”

  I can see the look on her face, and I really don’t like it. Kat and I met last year when she incorporate SVU team, we quickly became best friends.

  “I’ll make your inner Cinderella pop out !”

“You’re scaring me.”

“And I found the perfect dress for you, and mask.”

“Mask ?”, I ask.

“Masquerade ball, baby. You would know it if you had opened those letters instead of daydreaming.”

“I don’t daydream Kat.”

“Yes, you do. And your reverie is about the tall, blond and handsome Italian behind that door.”

“Aren’t you here to get a warrant back for Captain Benson ?”, I ask, hoping that she will change of subject.

“I am, but I have time”, she replies. “I know you have your lunch date with your dad today, but I offer you something. Tomorrow night, girl’s night and then on Saturday, dress shopping. I found the perfect dress for you !”

“You looked for a dress for me ? Kat ! I’m a big girl, I can dress myself.”

“Yeah, with a sad black dress when you can look like a princess. Please, let’s have girl’s night tomorrow and let me show you the dress on Saturday. You’ll love it, I’m sure of it. That might be the perfect way to attract some ADA.”

“Good morning ladies”, my entire body stiffens when I hear Hadid’s voice and Kat jolts out of her seat.

“Ms. Hadid”, I say, nodding.

“Miss McCoy, Detective Tamin you’re here. To what do we owe the pleasure ?”, she asks Kat.

“I’m here for a warrant Ms. Hadid, and as I’m waiting for it, I’m having a conversation with my friend.”

“This is very nice from you detective, but Miss McCoy has some work to do and we don’t pay her to have little chats with her friends. Don’t make me regret to have promote you or I’ll have to send you back in your little hole.”

“I was about to ask ADA Carisi if he signed the warrant”, I say, before she can add anything.

“Fine”, Hadid states, “and then I hope that you’ll go back to work”, and she leaves.

“Really, you shouldn’t let her talk to you that way”, Kat tells me.

“That’s okay, I’m used to it now”, I sigh.

“You shouldn’t get used to it Y/N. You’re way better than that woman.”

  At the same time, ADA Carisi’s door opens.

  “Y/N, I have the warrant for…”, his voice very soft. “Kat”, he finishes his sentence seeing the dark-haired detective next to my desk. “Morning Kat.”

“Carisi”, she nods, a little smile playing on her lips because of the tone of Sonny’s voice when he thought I was alone.

“This is for you”, he says, handing her the piece of paper I printed earlier.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you two and I will go back to the precinct. Have a nice day Carisi. Y/N, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow”, I reply, while Dominick just nods to her.

  And she leaves, the paper in her hand.

  “I heard that Hadid was here”, he turns to me.

“Yeah, she was, reminding me that I’m not paid to ‘have little chats with my friends’ and not to make her ‘regret to have promote me’, because she could send me ‘back in my little hole’”, I reply.

“Don’t let her impress you”, he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a better person than she will ever be.”

  I can feel my cheeks getting warmer and I’m probably blushing. That man really knows how to talk to me.

  “Let’s go back to work”, he resumes. “I’ll need you and your fast tipper skills to help me for the Mendelson’s case for my plea.”

“Give me time to make more tea and coffee and I’m all yours”, I say, seeing him turning bright red, and I assume that I must look the same. “I didn’t mean. I wanted to say.”

“I know, I understood”, he says, before going back into his office.

  Jeez dammit Y/N, you really had to…, I think, facepalming myself. A few minutes later, I enter his office with a fresh pot of hot coffee, sugar, and biscuits. I put down the tray on the side table and settle in front of the laptop next to it. Dominick gets up from his chair, his mug in one hand, a pile of papers with his handwriting in the other. He puts the sheets on the table before pouring himself some coffee and then a tea bag and hot water in my own mug, and settles it next to me, before putting some sugar in it.

  “Thanks”, I smile up to him.

  He just smiles back and starts to read his papers. We spend the next hour and a half to type, modify, revise the entire speech.

  “I think we’re done”, he finally says, stretching in his chair.

  I check one last time the document and hit the print button. From the inside of the office, we can hear the noise of the printer. We settle in a comfortable silence while the speech goes out of the printer.

  “So”, he finally breaks the silence, “I supposed you received the invitation for the Christmas ball.”

“I did. I must admit that masquerade ball is an original idea.”

“Indeed. I’ll have to find a suit and a plus one, maybe.”

  My heart aches when he talks about getting a plus one. When I said I grew fond of him, it was in fact a little more. Dominick ‘Sonny’ Carisi Jr. rocks my world for a year now and I love every part of him, from his ridiculously bright blue eyes to his passion for this job. I love the entire being he is.

  “What about you ?”, he asks, making me snap back to reality.

“I’ll probably go with my father, as usual, if I go”, I answer. “Speaking of my father, I should go and refresh a little before he arrives”, I add checking the hour, getting up from my chair. “I’ll bring the sheets when I come back.”

  And with that, I exist the office, walking to the bathroom. There I just look at myself in the mirror, trying not to cry because I’m pinning and crushing on my boss.

  Sonny’s POV

  I watch Y/N leaving my office. Why did I mention that I needed to find a plus one when I don’t want a plus one ? I don’t want to go to that ball with anyone else but her. But I never dared to ask her out. I saw the look on her face when I mention bringing someone with me, that she looked away, as if she was embarrassed by something. She rushed out so fast that I didn’t even had time to tell her that I’m going alone, or probably will bring my niece or one of my sisters. Of course, I’ll not bring a real date to office party, not when the girl that makes my heart sing is the one sitting on front of a desk outside of my office, accepting to work in a hallway just to still be my assistant.

I remember the first time I met Y/N, she had some dust at the bottom of her black pants and on her shoes. A little stain that she probably didn’t notice on her cheek. I knew she had worked for Barba for a few times, while his assistant was absent, but we never stumbled on each other. I looked at her, her Y/E/C hidden behind a pair of glassed, probably easier for her to see in the archives, her Y/H/C tied. When Ms. Hadid introduced each other, I heard some disdain in her voice, like she was despising her, still does though, and I didn’t and still don’t know why. It couldn’t be because Y/N was new here, like I was at the moment, nor because she has links with SVU. I don’t get how she can hate someone who’s so dedicated to her job like Y/N is, she loves what she’s doing, and we make a good team. She takes care of me, more than she should to be honest, reminds me to eat, drink, have some breaks. I remember once, she changed because she had a date, and I couldn’t help to feel jealous of the man she was seeing that night. She was so beautiful in that dress. It’s like every third Thursdays of the month. She has a monthly lunch and afternoon date with her father. On those days, she looks even more glowing. I must admit that I’m a little envious of her dad, you can see that she loves him very much and he has an important place in her life.

I rise my head from the paper in my hand and spot a man standing in front of Y/N’s office. He’s tall with grey hair and hazel eyes is rummaging through Y/N’s papers on her desk.

  “Excuse me sir, can I help you ?”, I ask, exiting my office, after putting down the sheet in my hand.

“I’m looking for my daughter”, he answers. “Have you seen her ? Y/N McCoy, not very tall, Y/E/C, Y/H/C hair.”

“Yeah, Y/N, she’s my assistant. She’s in the bathroom right now. Excuse me sir, but these are confidential, and you don’t have the right to look at it”, I add, seeing him looking at the papers.

“Don’t worry son, I was on the job. Jack McCoy”, he says, extending his hand to me, introducing himself.

“Excuse me, Jack McCoy, like THE Jack McCoy”, I ask, grabbing his hand to shake it. “Y/N never told me that you were her father. Wow, I’m so impressed.”

“Seems so”, he answers. “And I bet you are Dominick Carisi Jr., former cop turned ADA. My daughter told me a lot about you. I don’t know if she told you that her grandfather was a cop, she admired him and she admires you. She says you’re an amazing ADA and that you are passionate by the job. She can’t stop gushing about you and how happy she is to work with such a dedicated person.”

“I can assure you Mr. McCoy that I am as equally happy to work with your daughter. She’s an amazing assistant, she takes care of me when I forget about my basic needs.”

“She did the same with me, since she’s a kid she’s taking care about everyone around her. She knows this office like the back of her hand you know, she spent a lot of time here when she was a child. Sometimes I worked very late and she fell asleep on the couch of my office. She was doing her homework in a corner of the office, lying on the carpet, reading a book while listening to music when I was auditioning people. No one was ever surprised to see her around.”

“I can imagine that”, I reply, picturing a little Y/N, wandering around the corridors of the DA’s building, or working for school, or even reading a book on an office couch, headphones on her hears while her father was working.

“Dad”, I can hear behind me, turn around to see that Y/N is back from the bathroom. “What are you already doing here ?”

  Y/N’s POV

  I enter one of the cabins to pee before going back. When I exit it, I wash my hands and look at myself again checking my make-up and putting some lipstick again, check my hair. When I judge myself decent again, I go out. I walk back from the bathroom, hearing some laughs and voices coming from counsellor Carisi’s office.

  “Dad”, I say, spotting my father behind Dominick’s tall frame. “What are you already doing here ?”

“Y/N, sweetheart”, my father passes by counsellor Carisi to hug me. “I was a little early and I thought I would surprise you. That charming young man here said that you were in the bathroom, so we started to chat a little. I get why you like to work with that young man my darling, he’s really passionate about his job”, he adds, pointing the blond ADA with his thumb.

“If you don’t need me anymore Dominick, I’ll go.”

“Dominick ?”, my dad asks, raising his eyebrow.

“He told me not to call him counsellor, just like you did with your assistants.”

“Actually, I told her to call me Sonny, but she doesn’t”, he says, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s too familiar, you’re my boss after all.”

“Dad, if you’re ready we should go. Of course, if you don’t need me anymore”, I turn to counsellor Carisi.

“That’s good for me, you can go.”

“Thanks”, I reply, going behind my desk to grab my purse and to clean my desk. “Don’t forget to eat, to drink, and to take some break. I ordered you some food for your lunch, I prepared the few files you have to check. Don’t leave too late tonight, you have dinner at your parents”, I conclude, looking at Dominick while I list the things I planned for his afternoon. “Your tie, it’s not straight”, I say, looking at his neck, my hands reaching for the knot, his eyes meeting mine when I start to redo the knot, his face a few centimeters from mine, those pink lips I’d love to kiss for a year. “Here, all done”, I say, smoothing his suit jacket.

“Thanks”, he whispers.

“You’re welcome”, I respond, on the same tone.

  Someone clears his throat next to us and I suddenly remember that my father is around. I step back from counsellor Carisi and grab the two letters on my desk.

  “We should go. Have a nice afternoon Dominick.”

  On that, I grab my coat and scarf and I head to the elevators.

  “Nice to meet you Carisi, let’s meet again sometimes”, I can hear my father say, probably extending his hand to the counsellor to shake it.

“Pleasure is all mine counsellor McCoy, and I would love to”, my boss replies.

  I press the button of the elevator, and when the door opens, I have the bad surprise to see Vanessa Hadid in the cabin.

  “Miss McCoy, I see it’s time for your daddy-daughter lunch date”, she says, stepping out of the elevator, her eyes falling on my father who’s walking towards the elevators. “Counsellor McCoy, what a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Vanessa Hadid”, she deceitfully adds, a fake smile on her face, extending her hand. “Let me say that I really admire your work and all you did for the city. I think some people should take your successes as examples”, she looks at me, “and do their job better. Speaking of which, Miss McCoy, don’t forget that you must list all the charges in your documents or the ADA and then the DA can’t do their job correctly.”

“I can assure you Ms. Hadid that my job is done correctly, and that ADA Carisi is very satisfied with my work.”

“I’m sure he’s very satisfied of your job, I can tell, but it’s not enough, and ADA Carisi is satisfied with little”, her remark makes me turn red. “I should remember that you’re just a little secretary and the fact that your father was one of the best ADA of this city doesn’t necessarily make you good at your work, what a shame.”

  I can feel my anger boiling inside of my veins. That woman really treats me like crap.

  “My daughter is a PA, Ms. Hadid and I can assure you that despite what you are thinking, she’s very good at her job and she knows what she’s doing, after all, she assisted me a lot when she was younger and her first job was to be my assistant, so if counsellor Carisi says he’s pleased with her work, believe me, he is. Good day Ms. Hadid, and unfortunately, I can’t say that it was a pleasure to meet you.”

  With that, my father links his arm with mine and we step in the elevator.

 Fifteen minutes later, we’re settle at our usual table at Giovanni’s, one of our favorite restaurants. My dad takes me here since I’m a child. It became one of our rituals.

  “I’m surprised that you never told him that I was your father”, he says after the waiter took our orders. “That boy was practically fanboying over me. This was funny to see to be honest.”

“He’s unbeatable on the previous ADAs, and I’m not sure that he would have treat me normally if I had told him about our filiation. He’s very passionate about this job. I find it really cute”, I reply, drinking a sip of my lemonade.

“I don’t think that this is the only thing you find really cute about him.”

  I almost choke on my drink, while he’s looking at me, a small smile playing on his lips before he drinks some of his whiskey.

  “You shouldn’t let her treat you that way you know”, my dad suddenly says, after the waiter put down our plates in front of us, and I know he’s talking about Hadid. “I don’t like the way she talks to you, and the way she talks about that Carisi guy. Clearly, she doesn’t like any of you. But listen to me Y/N, she might be your employer, but don’t forget that you actually have a law degree. Just like her and just like that Daddy-Long-Legs for whom you work. Your ADA”, he adds, emphasizing the ‘your’.

“He’s not my ADA dad”, I sigh, praying that I don’t blush too much.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him, act around each other. You two act like a married couple without being one. But office relationship is not something I really advice.”

“Why ? Because of your own and disastrous experiment ?”, I ask more harshly that I intended.

  He gives me a dirty look and I know I’ve gone too far. This is still a sensitive subject. Even if many years have passed, I know that he still feels guilty about Claire Kincaid’s death.

  “Dad, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talk to you like that. This was rude from me. I know you only want what’s best for me”, I say, reaching for his hand on the table.

“That’s okay Y/N, you’re an adult and I can’t spend my time to protect you nor make choices for you. He seems to be a nice and good guy and if something happens between the two of you, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks dad, but I don’t think that anything will happen between Dominick and me. And to talk about Hadid, I don’t want to risk getting fired, not when I love the job I’m doing and make a good team with the person I work for. I know I can find a PA job anywhere in the city and that I can work in another DA office, but I love working with SVU and with counsellor Carisi.”

“Promise me something then”, he starts, and I just nod, while he grabs my hand, “if she harasses you, you’ll report her. That woman is determined and tough, but I have no doubt that she would crush you, or Carisi, if she could.”

“I have no doubt about that either”, I respond, drinking some of my lemonade. “Don’t worry dad, if she goes too far, I’ll not hesitate to report her. I promise.”

  We continue to eat, in a comfortable silence.

  “Are you going at your mom for Christmas ?”, he asks.

“No. Last time I spoke to her, she reproached me to be too close to you. And I responded that she shouldn’t have to leave when I was a kid, I would probably be closer to her. Same thing as usual”, I shrug.

“You should be less hard with her.”

“She’s the one who chose that situation. Thank God, you never brought an evil stepmother or evil stepsisters home. Just your pretty and young coworkers.”

“What about your sister ?”, he asks.

“Rebecca ? Don’t have any news for a while. I think she has better things to do than spending time with her little half-sister who’s fifteen years younger than her. I think I might spend it by myself this year, unless you have nothing planned.”

“I’m already invited by a judge I worked with, in California. I can ask him if you can come if you want to.”

“No that’s okay, thanks dad, I’ll have a quiet night, I’ll order takeout and watch some movies. I’m used to be alone, remember.”

“That makes me sad to know that you will be alone on Christmas. You are young, you need to have some fun. Go to parties.”

“Speaking of parties”, I say, taking the envelopes from my bag, “I had those this morning.”

  I hand him his letter announcing the annual Christmas ball.

  “Masquerade”, he reads, after taking the letter out of the envelop. “Does that mean they expect us to wear a mask ?”, he asks, not really thrilled at that perspective.

“That’s exactly what they expect”, I reply, taking a bite of food from my plate. “It could be fun, for once.”

“Are you going ?”

“I have to, I can’t skip my job’s Christmas party, especially not when I’m the daughter of Jack McCoy.”

“What are you going to wear ?”, he questions.

“I don’t know, it seems that Kat found something for me, she seems to have decided to play Fairy Godmother with me. Said she found me a gown to wear on that night, to pop-up my inner Cinderella”, I sigh.

“Maybe you should let her do it, she’s your friend, she wants to help you.”

“I know. What about you, are you coming ?”

“I’m going every year, with you since you’re a child, I’m not going to skip that year either, after all they probably will be expecting for me. Especially that boss of yours.”

  He folds the letter in two before putting it in his pocket. We finish our lunches and then spend the afternoon walking in Central Park, going to the zoo, another old tradition from my childhood. I must admit that dad freed up some time for me more than he did for Rebecca. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why she doesn’t really like me. Well, I don’t really think that dad took care more about me than about her. I know he did spend more time with me, but that’s because my mother left. I spent countless nights on the couch of his office, countless days doing my homework on the spare table of his office, sitting in a court room, waiting for him to finish work, eating sandwiches instead of real meals, sometimes a hot meal from the restaurant down the street. When I was old enough to take care of myself, I stayed home, but I found my way back to my dad’s office for my first job during the holidays. I was helping, just like his assistant. Little by little I learned to love that job, helping the ADA, being here when he speaks with the victims, trying to help said victim, somehow investigating for him. Yes, I went to law school and had my degree, and I could be a lawyer, but being the ADA’s PA, was what I really wanted, I couldn’t guess that for a while I would be stuck in the archives.

 After our afternoon, my dad takes me back to my apartment. After we agreed on going at the Masquerade ball together as we do every year.

 The next day is busy. I wasn’t expected for the trial to be that soon. We had a message when I barely arrived that a court and a judge was available for today. The file is complete, we explained to Malia, the victim, all she had to know and that she has to stuck with what she told us, trying to not be destabilized by the other lawyer, everything is ready and we’re sitting at court, when we get the list of the defense’s witnesses.

  “There is someone I don’t know on it. Look, a last-minute addition”, counsellor Carisi tells me, pointing the name of a man.

“What do you want to do ? Do you want me to do a quick research ? That name is ringing a bell to me. As if my father had a trial with a man having the same name. Give me an hour or two, I can probably find something”, he just nods and with that, I rise from my chair and go out of the courtroom.

  I almost run to my office, quickly making a research in the archives. Bingo, I knew it. Quickly printing what I’ve found, I go back to the courthouse as fast as I can to assist counsellor Carisi. When I arrive again inside of the courthouse, I slide next to my boss, noticing that the man is already in the witness booth.

  “Howard Caplan convicted for rape almost twenty years ago. That’s why the name rang a bell to me, my dad was in charge of his trial. Caplan is a rapist, a murderer, and a liar. He’s one of those people who think that victims deserved what happened to them. He’s out because he was released for good behavior three years ago. If you want my opinion, this is a big fuck you to his victims. I was in courthouse when he was found guilty, I was young, but I will remember that face all my life, the face of a monster. The MO is the same, Caplan is probably Rowell’s mentor”, I whisper in Carisi’s ear.

“How did you find it ?”, he asks me, after I show him the paper with the information he needed for the trial.

“I’m the daughter of a retired ADA and the granddaughter of a cop, that makes me really good at sticking my nose into someone’s past, plus this was in the archives I had to type when I worked in my little mouse hole”, I wink at him. “Now you know what buttons to push.”

“Y/N, you’re amazing, I could kiss you”, he says louder, and I turn bright red, and so does he when he realize what he just said. “I mean with no ulterior motive.”

“Counsellor Carisi, if you and Miss Y/L/N have to talk of personal matters, I suggest you do it outside of my court”, the judge shouts in our direction, looking at us.

“I’m sorry your honor.”

“Sorry”, I repeat, and she sighs.

Dominick’s squeezes my hand under the table as another way to say ‘thank you’, his long fingers caressing my palm, a very intimate gesture. I bite my lower lip trying not to sigh in pleasure, and to pay attention to what’s said.

  “Counsellor Carisi, do you have things to ask the witness ?”

“Yes, your honor”, he responds the judge, letting go of my hand and standing up, buttoning his jacket, I can see the gearwheel turning into his head.

  And for five minutes straight, using the information I gave him, he managed to make Caplan admit that he is Rowell’s mentor and that he didn’t want to kill and rape by himself now not to go back in prison. But his confession is a violation to his parole, so he’s arrested right here and there. As for Rowell, he’s declared guilty by the jury. I sigh in relief when the verdict is said, looking at Malia, who’s sitting right behind me, Captain Benson, and Kat at her sides.

 “Thank you so much counsellor Carisi”, she says, hugging him tight.

“Actually, I’m not the one you should thank. Y/N found about Caplan’s past. She helped me a lot”, he tells her, slightly grabbing my hand in his.

  I swallow the lump in my throat while his stares at me right in the eyes.

  “Thank you, Y/N, you’ve been really nice with me during this all thing”, Malia turns to me and hugs me, making counsellor Carisi let go of my hand.

“You’re welcome Malia. Don’t forget that if you need something, you can contact me.”

“I know, thank you”, she says, hugging me again and tighter, before letting go of me.

  Malia exits the courtroom with her mother and sister.

  “Thank you, Y/N, I don’t know what I would do without you”, Dominick’s voice says next to me.

  I turn to him, his blue eyes are sparkling, while he steps towards me, his gaze never leaving mine.

  “Y/N, I’d like to…”

“Y/N, you were amazing”, Kat jumps in, cutting counsellor Carisi, and hold me in her arms. “You and I are officially off duty so let girl’s night begin !”

  From the corner of my eye, I can see Dominick leaving the courthouse alongside with Captain Benson. He slightly turns his head towards me, and I can see sadness in his eyes. I grab my bag and follow Kat who drags me outside of the building.

  “Don’t tell me that you never noticed the way he looks at you”, Kat says, after at least our fifth or sixth drink.

“He’s not looking at me in any way. Our relationship is strictly professional”, I slur, as drunk as she is.

“And the way you look at him.”

“I’m not looking at it in any way either.”

“You both look like two idiots in love, but you’re too idiots to notice”, she gulps her drink and waves at the waiter for another. “He looks like a lovesick puppy in love.”

  The waiter puts down another drink in front of her.

  “And besides”, she continues, “today he literally said that he could kiss you, in court, in front of everyone. That you can’t deny.”

  At those words, I remember what happened after the judge called us to order, his hand touching mine, little circles on my palm, his hand almost sliding in mine and then, the judge asking him to question the witness, only those thoughts make my cheeks turning red again.

  “He just said that because he was happy I found the information. I don’t think he intended to do it”, I sigh, sipping my mojito.

“You know what you need, you need to get laid ! When was the last time you had a good fuck ?”

“Kat !”, I shout.

“What ? You’re gorgeous, clever and you need to get that tall blond and handsome Italian out of your mind. You two act like a married couple without being one.”

“That’s funny you say that my dad told me exactly the same yesterday.”

“And he’s right”, she gulps her drink once again. “Another”, she waves one more time at the waiter.

“No more drinks for you two ladies, you already had way too many and I ordered a cab for you two to go home safely, ride’s on me”, he winks at us. “And this is my number”, he adds, handing me a piece of paper with his phone number on, “in case that guy you like doesn’t open his eyes.”

  I thank him and put the paper in my pocket. A few minutes later, the doors opens to a woman around Kat and I’s age and the waiter waves at her to indicate that we are the customers. The ride home has us sleepy and at the second we pass my front door, Kat collapses on the couch, and I manage to reach my room, after putting a plaid on her so she won’t catch a cold. She’s right, I mother people too much. Then, I finally allow myself to sleep when I fall on my bed.

The next morning, I wake up with a slight headache, fully clothed and Kat’s groan from the living room.

  “Fuck, my head.”

  I stretch like a cat on the mattress, feeling my whole-body crack before getting up.

  “Good morning to you too”, I say, stepping in my living room.

“How could you let me drink that much ?”, she asks.

“Nothing can seem to have stopped you, so I rather drank too”, I respond, shrugging. “What do you think about breakfast ?”

“Give me some aspirin first”, she says, sitting on the couch, massaging her temples.

  I turn around and walk to the kitchen. I open a cupboard and pull out two glasses, before filling it with water. I open the meds cabinet and take two aspirin pills, then I head back to the living room.

  “Here you go”, I hand her one of the pills and one of glasses of water before gulping my own pill and water.

“Thank God”, she thanks me, taking the glass and the pill.

“Oh, you can just call me Y/N, you know”, I joke, and she chuckles. “What about breakfast now ?”, I ask.

“I thought you would never ask”, she answers, rising from the couch.

She follows me to the kitchen. I take grab two mugs and start the coffee maker and the kettle.

“So, dress shopping today”, she states, very seriously when I put some bread, butter, spread and jam in front of her. “I will doll you up for the love of Carisi.”

“You’re obsessed Kat.”

“Me ? No, I just want my best friend’s happiness.”

  I rise an eyebrow, not really knowing what to answer to that. I appreciate Kat’s efforts to help me having a love life, but I really don’t really see why she absolutely wants to set me up with Carisi. I recognize that I have a massive crush on my boss, but regarding my dad’s situation when I was younger, I don’t think this is a good idea.

  “Stop trying to set me up with my boss please.”

“No”, she replies, a sly smile on her lips.

  I pour some coffee in her mug and some water in mine before I hand her the steamy coffee. We take our breakfast in a comfortable silence before each of us take a shower. As Kat and I are used to sleep at each other’s home after a night outside or for a girl’s night, we have spare clothes at each other’s.

  “Are you ready ?”, she asks, as soon as I go outside of my bedroom, slipping my head into a NYC sweater.

“Is it normal that I am frightened about that dress story ?”, I question.

“I promise you that you have nothing to be afraid about. I swear that you will love that dress and look stunning in it. It was made for you.”

  I sigh, I don’t really have a choice, I need a dress for the DA’s office Christmas Ball and I also know that Kat doesn’t give up that easy. She almost drags me from my apartment to the subway. Thirty minutes later, she stops in front of a little clothes shop.

  “How did you find this place ?”, I ask her, knowing that the kind of dress I can see in the window display.

  Indeed, a lot of the dresses I can see look like prom gowns or princesses’ dresses. So far from Kat’s usual clothing. I never wore a dress like this, not even for my prom. To be honest, I didn’t even go to prom, no one invited me, and I didn’t want to go there alone, instead, I spent the night at the restaurant with my dad who then, took me to a musical, a quiet night to celebrate my high school graduation and acceptation to law school. I look at one of the dressing and then close my eyes, imaging myself in it, looking like a princess, waltzing with a tall blue-eyed Italian in a three pieces-suit.

  “Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. Earth to Y/N, come back here”, my eyes shoot open. “You were daydreaming again, and according to the smile on your face, I know who you were daydreaming about”, she sings-song mockingly.

“I wasn’t daydreaming about Sonny”, I poorly defend myself too quickly, probably blushing in the process.

“Ah ! I knew it !”, she points at me. “But you’re not going into one of these dresses. There is a special one waiting for you inside”, she adds, dragging me inside of the store.

“Kat, you’re here !”, a woman says behind the counter. “And I bet this is the friend you told me about. The one for the dress”, she adds, smiling at me. “Come in darling”, she moves from her spot and grabs my hand to pull me towards fitting rooms, before making me step on a pedestal. “You were right I’m sure the dress will be perfect for her. Please sweetheart, take off your coat so I can see if the size is the good one.”

  I do what she says, shrugging my coat off my shoulder. She points at my sweater that I take off too.

  “Perfect, she’s gonna be perfect for my dress”, she claps her hands after turning around me.

“I told you it was made for her. And he’s gonna be crazy about it.”

“Can you please stop talking as if I wasn’t in the room ?”, I question, annoyed.

“Yes, sorry sweetie. You’ll step in that fitting you and remove your clothes, socks and shoes too, just stay in your underwear, and I’ll come with the dress and help you slip in it. There are no mirrors in the room, so you’ll not see yourself before we come back here”, I just nod. “Come on, undress and I’ll get the dress.”

  Just before I close the fitting room door, I can see the woman locking the front door and turning the open/close sign. I undress as she told me, hopping I’ll not die of cold before she comes back.

  “Well, are you ready dear ?”, I hear less than two minutes later, and when I say yes, she comes in, carrying a huge slipcover. “Turn around and close your eyes. Kat wants it to be a surprise”,  I comply, I don’t want to offend Kat, especially when she wants to make me a surprise. “Lift your arms, yes perfect”, I can feel the soft fabric of the dress on my skin. One hand puts my right shoulder under a brace, hands smooth the top of the dress around my chest, strings are pulled behind my back, and finally, the skirt is behind deployed around my legs and feet. “Put your hands on the wall, I’ll put the shoes on your feet.” I obey one more time, feeling my feet slipping in, making me a little taller. “Come on darling, eyes closed still, you’ll follow me.”

  She grabs my hands and guides me back to the store.

  “Oh my God, Y/N, you’re stunning”, Kat says from I don’t know where.

“Well, for now, I have to believe you as I haven’t seen myself yet.”

“Believe me, you look like a princess.”

“Mind the step”, the store woman warns me. “One more little thing and you can open your eyes.”

  I can feel her putting something on my shoulders. A soft and light fabric, maybe tulle caresses my skin.

  “Open the mirrors Kat please”, she says. “Okay, now sweetheart, you’ll open your eyes and see yourself. On three. One. Two. Three.”

  I open my eyes. There are mirrors all around and reflecting in those, me, in the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “It’s... I…”, I don’t know what to say, I barely recognize myself. I look like Cinderella. The dress is blue, with light blue and golden strass on the bustier which has only one shoulder strap, the other goes under my left arm, little blue straps in the back. The skirt is perfect, made of silk covered with blue tulle, with silver glitters, is not too big nor too small. A tulle shawl is covering my shoulders and tied on my chest. I lift the skirt to check on the shoes. They are the same color as the dress, blue with silver glitters. “Oh my god”, I manage to finally say after looking at me in the mirrors. “Kat, you were right, I look like a princess.”

“Least but not last”, the shop owner comes back near me, a sliver mask matching my dress in her hands. “I designed it for you, especially for the dress”, she adds, putting it on my nose.

  I look at the mask, on the silver base, there are blue patterns on the left side and a golden butterfly on the right, with some pearls on its wing. I step down the pedestal and hug Kat tight.

  “You’re going to be the most beautiful woman of that ball.”

  Three weeks after the dress fitting, and said dress hanging on my wardrobe, in a slipcover, waiting to be worn tomorrow at the DA Christmas Ball. Those last three weeks have been pretty calm, which was unexpected considering the time of the year. Usually, Christmas is one of the busiest times of the year. During those three weeks, I spent a lot of times with Dominick and he was dashing as usual. His blue eyes sparkling when talks about his nieces waiting for Santa to give them gifts. The ball is tomorrow and then, next Saturday it’s Christmas Eve, and on Sunday Christmas, that I’ll spend on my own this year. Maybe it’ll do me good, the occasion to rest and rethink my life maybe.

  “Well, I think we don’t need to stay here any longer”, counsellor Carisi says, going out of his office. “You can turn this off Y/N, I don’t think that something will happen now. Friday, 5:30 pm, no calls from SVU since last week. I must admit that I’m glad that this year is calm, not like last year where we had work all over our heads.”

  He smiles at me and my heart nearly misses a beat. That man will be the death of me someday. Why am I not even capable to ask him for a drink or a lunch date sometimes, just the two of us, no work between us and especially, no Vanessa Hadid, who just happened to appear in the corridor where my desk is, when Dominick is about to speak again.

  “Carisi, McCoy”, she calls us. “You both can leave, we don’t have any more work, so we can call it a week. Go get a drink or grab something to eat, enjoy your evening. See you both at the ball tomorrow. Well, if I manage to recognize you”, she adds, before leaving.

  I turn off my computer to see that he came back into his office, probably to take his coat and turn off the light. Then, he comes back when I rise from my chair, putting my scarf around my neck.

  “Y/N, before Ms. Hadid arrived and interrupted us, I was about to tell you that it’s still early and I wanted to ask you if you’d like to…”

“Y/N !”, I hear my dad’s voice shooting from behind.

“Dad ? What are you doing here ?”, I question, turning to him, taken by surprise.

“Taking you to dinner sweetheart, it wasn’t planned but as we are going to the DA ball tomorrow and also because I won’t be here the next two weeks so we won’t have our lunch date, I thought that we could spend the evening together.”

“I… Yes dad, of course”, I respond, “give me a minute please”, he nods, and I turn back to my boss. “What did you want to ask me Dominick ?”

“Never mind, another time maybe”, he answers, looking disappointed. “You should spend a good night with your father and enjoy it. I’ll see you tomorrow, try to save me a dance. Have a nice evening. It was a pleasure to see you again Mr. McCoy”, he says, before extending his hand to my father to shake it.

“Did I interrupt something ?”, my father asks once Sonny is out of view and ears.

“You’re the second person interrupting when he’s about to ask me something”, I whisper, not loud enough for him to hear it.

“What ?”

“Nothing”, I sadly smile at him. “Let’s go for a walk and maybe, I’ll find your Christmas present on the way”, trying to be as joyful as possible, feeling bad for Dominick who twice tried to say something and was interrupted, once by our shrew boss, the second time by my good intentioned father.

“If you want my opinion, that boy probably wanted to ask you on a date. He’s got a thing for you.”

“Dad, we already talked about it, don’t be ridiculous. Let’s go now, would you”, I conclude, slipping my coat on my shoulders.

  The evening passed fast and the next day is here too soon. Kat joins me in the afternoon to get ready. Her friend from the store showed her how to put the dress on me.

  “There you go”, she says, putting a little more red lipstick on my lips. “Perfect.”

  She turns me to the mirror, and I look at myself. I already loved the dress when I tried it, but I love it more this time with make-up and my hair done. I take a look at Kat’s outfits. She wears a black suit, with a little touch of make up on her eyes.

  “You really are something else Katriona Tamin.”

“What ? Because I don’t wear a dress ?”

“No because you’re really something else. I’ve never had a friend who did for me what you have done. I don’t even know if anybody’s friend already did that. You saw a dress, booked it for me convinced that it would fit, you support me and help me when I need something. I’m glad I met you Kat Tamin and it’s an honor to call you my best friend. Thank you”, I say, hugging her tight.

“Oh, don’t thank me now Y/N McCoy, you’ll thank me when you and Carisi are married, having kids and when you’ll ask me to be the godmother of your first born.”

“Kat !”

“Don’t pretend to be offended. If tonight he doesn’t fall for you, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

  We start to laugh when we’re interrupted by the doorbell.

  “Hey dad”, I greet him, opening the door.

“Hello sweetheart”, he responds, kissing my forehead. “You look radiant”, he adds, taking a step back to look at me.

“Thanks daddy. I feel like a princess”, I turn on myself to show him the back of the dress.

“Don’t forget this !”, Kat says, handing me my mask. “Hi Mr. McCoy.”

“Miss Tamin. What an interesting choice of outfit. But it suites you.”

“Thank you, Mr. McCoy. You look very good yourself.”

“Thanks, I just didn’t put that on”, he says, waving the mask in his hand. “This is ridiculous.”

“That’s not ridiculous dad, that’s the principle of a masquerade ball.”

“We should go, or we will be late”, Kat states.

“I have a little surprise for you girls”, my dad says once I lock the door.

  Indeed, a very big surprise, I was expecting a cab waiting for us, but a limo is parked in front of my building. The driver opens the door and help Kat and I to climb in the car. The ride is quick and before I can realize it, we’re in front of the city hall where the ball takes place. We put our masks on before exiting the car.

  “Can you please take us back at midnight ?”, my father asks the driver.

“Of course, sir. Have a nice night”, and with that, he comes back in car and drives away.

  I rise my head and notice that the city hall has been decorated for the occasion with a lot of white lights in the shape of snowflakes. My father starts to climb the stairs, followed by Kat.

  “Dad wait a minute please. Promise me something. Don’t drink too much tonight please.”

“Be here at midnight or I’ll leave without you.”

  That said, he offers me his arm to climb the stairs, Kat by my side. I hand to the person at the door our invitations and we come in. The inside of the ballroom is more beautiful than the outside. There is a huge white Christmas tree, decorated with some Christmas balls, garlands and lights. The walls are full of colorful ribbons. There are tables, full of food and drinks all around the dancefloor, a disco ball hanging on the celling, a DJ is placed in the far end of the room. All around us, there are people wearing masks, so that’s impossible to say who’s who.

  “I’ll go grab a drink”, my dad says. “I’ll see you later”, and with that he leaves.

“I want to ferret a little around. If I don’t see you again before you leave, I’ll call you tomorrow”, she says, kissing my cheek. “Have a good night Cinderella”, she winks at me before walking away.

  I sigh, finding myself alone in the middle of that big party. I take a glass of champagne of the table and sip on it and taste one of the appetizers on a plate next to the drinks. I start to wander around, climbing the stairs to the balcony, looking down at the ball room, watching the first dancers evolving on the dancefloor. I don’t know who they are and I’m not sure that they know who they are dancing with, but everyone seems to be happy with that. I go back downstairs, wandering on the first floor. Music is blasting from the loudspeakers while I’m still walking around almost walking through I don’t know what door, when a hand touch my arm and stops me. I turn around to see who it is, and my eyes meet with a pair of blue ones. The tall man in front of me is starring, before he grabs my hand and take it to his lips, laying a kiss on it. I can’t properly see his face because of my mask, and his only let me see his eyes, his mask sort of looking like the one of Erik, The Phantom of the Opera, I can only see his mouth, not his nose nor the shape of his face, he wears a black suit, Phantom of the Opera style too, matching his mask. Then, silently, he lightly turns his gaze towards the dancefloor, silently asking for my permission to dance and I just nod. He leads me to the middle of the dancefloor. He takes my hand in his and slides his arm around my waist while I put my other hand on his shoulder, and we start to sway to the music. I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do, the song says, while his eyes are never leaving mine. It’s just him and I lost in the middle of the crowd, locked in a bubble, where nothing else exists but my mysterious dance partner. The more we sway, the more I feel I’m where I’m meant to be, even if I don’t know who he is, I feel good in the arms of that unknown man, who doesn’t seem to know who I am either. The more the song passes, the more I want to kiss him, my eyes go from his eyes to his lips and I think that he must have understand because he leans towards me. I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do, the song says again when our lips finally touch. My mysterious partner has soft lips, I tighten my grip on his shoulder when he deepens the kiss.

The song ends and it’s like our bubble doesn’t burst. He looks at me smiling, pecking my lips once again, before dragging me behind him towards the inner gardens. I’m giggling like a teenager, living my prom in my early thirties instead of at seventeen. He presses me to one of the pillars of the city hall, his right hand on it while his left hand cups my right cheek and his lips find mine again. My hands find his arms and I’m sliding them until I reach the back of his neck, pulling him a little more into me. I’ve never been kissed like this, ever. I don’t know how long I stay here, kissing a perfect stranger but it feels so right and maybe, just maybe for once, I can allow myself not to think about Dominick Carisi Jr. I’m still in my bubble until I hear it.

  “Goddamn it, where is she ?!”, I recognize my dad’s voice, opening my eyes wide, pulling away from my strange one-night lover and also realize that the city hall clock strikes midnight.

“What is it ?”, my mysterious man asks, whispering.

“I… I have to go”, I answer, murmuring too. “I’m sorry”, I add, pecking his lips one more time before running for my life.

  I think he didn’t had time to process because I have time to reach the main entry of the city hall.

  “Hey, wait !”, I can hear behind me, but I don’t have time to care about him.

“Dad, wait”, I shoot, from the top of the stairs when I see him walking towards the limo, and by the way he walks, I can say that he drank more that he should have. “Dad”, I lift my dress and start to run down the stairs.

  I manage to reach the car, after I struggled with a hole in the stairs and the heel of one of my shoes.

  “There you are”, my dad’s drunk voice greets me when I sit down, and the driver starts to drive. “I saw you kissing I don’t know who. I know I told you you should have fun, but I didn’t think that you would take it that way. “What ?”, he asks suddenly.

“My shoe, I lost one of my shoes, and my shawl”, I say, looking down at my feet, unknotting my mask.

“Well play, now your mysterious prince charming is going to make all the girls from New York trying that shoe to find you.”

“Dad, please stop”, I just manage to say, too tired to bite back at him, because all I want now is to go back home and sleep, probably replaying myself the dance and the kiss to put myself to sleep.

 Sonny’s POV

 I’m dressing myself, hoping that this will have a good effect for the masquerade ball. I made some research before I chose my outfit for tonight. I didn’t really want to look like a prince charming, I wanted to try something different and I remembered that Y/N once mentioned that there was a masquerade ball in a musical she has seen several times with her father when she was younger, The Phantom of the Opera. I checked online to see what the suit and the mask looked like and I decided to wear it. I just took a mask that was a little different.

  “Hey Carisi, nice disguise”, Fin says when he parks in front of my building.

“Wanted to do something a little less conventional than usual, play the game”, I respond.

“Play the game dressing as The Phantom of the City Hall ?”, he mocks me. “Maybe you do that for a certain Y/H/C with Y/E/C lady.”

“She’s supposed to be here, with her father, but with the masks, I’m not sure that I’ll recognize her, she can be dressed in any outfit.”

“Let’s just hope you’ll find her. Now we better get going, I have to take Phoebe on the way.”

  We stop by Phoebe’s apartment where she comes out dressed in an amazing dress. Once at the city hall and in the ball room, I look around to see if I spot Y/N or Mr. McCoy, or maybe Kat, as she and Y/N are best friend, she probably knows how she’s dress. After a first drink and some appetizers, I grab another champagne glass and go upstairs, looking at the ball room from the balcony. That’s when I see her. No not Y/N. A girl with Y/H/C in a blue dress, with a matching mask, a butterfly covering half of her face. I don’t know what she’s doing, but she’s looking at everything in an awe. I don’t know why but I feel attract by that girl, I gulp my coupe and go back downstairs. I don’t know what she’s searching or looking for but she’s about to go in a room she can’t go. I don’t say a word, just touch her arm. She turns around, she’s stunning, outstanding, she takes my breath away. A real princess. I just grab her hand and kiss it. I look at the dancefloor, silently asking her if she wants to dance, she just nods and smile. I take her in the middle of it, we’re surrounded by other people. I take her hand in mine and put my other hand on her hip, while she puts her free hand on my shoulder. We sway slowly, following the slow rhythm of the song, some tune that was released when I was like fifteen. I never leave her eyes, gorgeous Y/E/C eyes. I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do, I don’t even know who she is but those are words I would tell that girl. Those are words I would tell Y/N if I dared to tell her how I feel about her, but I’ll probably never say it. At some point I can see her eyes travelling from my eyes to my lips, I’m attracted to her and I want to kiss her, badly. Once again, I silently ask her, and she silently agrees. I press my lips to hers in a slow but tender kiss. Her fingers tighten around my shoulder. Nothing else exists but her and me, it’s like there is a bubble around us. The song ends but I don’t want that night to finish. I peck her lips one more time and take her hand to go to the pillars near the inner gardens. She giggles and I find that this is the cutest sound I’ve ever heard. I press her to one the pillars, I steady myself putting my right hand on the pillar and I cup her cheek with my left hand, and I kiss her again. That’s the first time I kiss a total stranger and it’ll probably be the last time, but it feels right. Her hands go up my arms and find their place behind my neck pulling me into her. I don’t know how long our kiss lasts, but suddenly, she pulls away.

  “Goddamn it, where is she ?!”, a voice shouts from I don’t know where and the city hall clock strikes midnight.

“What is it ?”, I ask her, whispering.

“I… I have to go”, she answers, murmuring too. “I’m sorry”, she adds, pecking my lips one more time before she runs for her life.

  I’m completely taken aback as she runs away.

  “Wait !”, I shout, running after her, but she’s already at the other side of the room, still running. I might have long legs, the crowd stops me to reach her.

  I look over people’s heads to see her, her head turning from right to left as if she’s looking for someone. Suddenly, she’s on the run again.

  “Hey, wait !”, I shout, making people looking at me.

  I see her running down the stairs and when I finally reach the entry and go down the stairs, she dives into a limo and the car leaves.

  “Wait !”, I shout once again, going down the stairs, trying to catch the car, but it’s too late.

  With rage I rip off the mask from my face.

  “Fuck !”

“Carisi, what’s going on ?”, I can see Kat at the top of the stairs.

“There’s, there’s that girl, I danced with her she… She…”, I suddenly stop seeing a blue shoe stuck in the concrete of the stairs and a blue tulle shawl fluttering around.

  I bend to take the shoe and I can see Kat going down to me, the blue shawl in her hands.

  “Oh, she really made her inner Cinderella pop out, dancing with the prince, loosing a shoe, leaving at midnight”, she says.

“What ?”, I ask.

“Nothing”, she answers.

“You know who she is don’t you ?”, I question her.

“I’m not saying a thing”, she responds. “You will have to find your princess by yourself”, she adds, handing me the shawl.

  I take the shawl in my hands along with the shoes and turn back to where the car disappeared, not knowing how I’ll be able to find who that girl is.

  Y/N’s POV

  I slept at my dad’s after the Masquerade ball, I let the dress flood around my feet in my childhood room and find a few clothes I let in the apartment in case I have to sleep here. Nothing changed since the moment I left home, the decoration is still the same, the sheets on the bed are still the ones with animals and I found an old pink pajama in the chest of drawers. My phone beeps, it’s a message from Kat ‘Girl, I saw you dancing with that guy and most importantly kissing him. Who is he ? So, no more pinning over Carisi ? I want to know everything. Love ya’. I respond her that we will talk about it later. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep, replaying in my head the dance and the kiss.

The next morning, my father drops me at my apartment before going at the airport and wishing me a merry Christmas. I wave at him when the car goes away, sighing, wondering how I’ll get my shoe back and if I’ll ever know who my mysterious prince charming was.

The next three days nothing really happen either, at work it’s still really calm, and I take advantage of it to clean a little and sort the old files which are ready to go in the archives. Sonny seems to be somewhere else, in his own world, I don’t know what he’s thinking about, lost in his thoughts, only snapping back to Earth when I knock on the door. He barely speaks or asks me things, plays with his food when we eat. He seems to look at something that he hides when I enter his office. It’s Wednesday and frankly I don’t really know what to do. I had a phone call with Kat, who asked me about my prince charming if I found out who he was, and I said no. I also told her that I lost one of my shoes and my shawl and asked if she found it or anyone, she said she didn’t see any blue shoe nor shawl and that I should ask the city hall. That I did but, they didn’t find it either. I wonder who can have my shoe and my shawl. Well, I’m not sure that anyone would do anything with a thin tulle shawl and a single shoe.

I continue to sort my files, humming the song I danced on with my mysterious blue-eyed prince charming.

 Sonny’s POV

  I have the impression that I spend my time starring at this shoe sing Saturday night. It’s Wednesday and I still don’t know to whom it belongs to, nor the tulle shawl. Luckily, we don’t really have work so I can think about what happened during the ball than being distracted of my work. I take the shoe and the shawl everywhere with me, hiding it when someone, mostly Y/N, knocks on the door. Serena came in between and gushed about the ball, saying it was a shame that she didn’t see or dance with me. But she spoke about that mysterious girl with the Cinderella dress dancing with an also mysterious man dressed as the Phantom of the Opera and that a lot of persons are talking about them, the mysterious couple. I clearly understood that she was jealous because she wasn’t the center of the attention. Knowing her a little, she would have brag about herself if she was the girl in the Cinderella dress. Honestly, I’m relieved that it’s not her. Actually, I’d preferred that Cinderella was Y/N to choose. She’s very quiet for the last three days, I’m not really talkative either, each of us in our own world. I didn’t even ask her how the ball was for her. We don’t have a lot to do, it’s almost like criminals decided to be nice this year.

It’s very early and I don’t have a lot to do and I think that Y/N doesn’t have a lot to do either, I could take her out for lunch, we have plenty of time. She started to sort old files to store them in the archives, but I don’t think she has many to do after two days of doing it already. I open the door and I can hear her softly humming a song. At first, I don’t recognize it, but then ‘I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do’. The song, the Masquerade ball song, the I danced on with Cinderella. It’s her, Cinderella is Y/N ! Realization strikes, same hair color, same eyes, how couldn’t I even realize it before ? I step back in my office and take the shoe and the shawl out of the drawer before going back to the hall.

  “I wanna stand with you on a mountain, I wanna bathe with you in the sea, I wanna lay like this forever, Until the sky falls down on me.”

  Hearing these words, she turns around, looking at me with wide eyes, falling on the shoe and the shawl between my hands.

  Y/N’s POV

  Behind me, I hear the chorus of the song from the ball. I turn around and I can feel my eyes widen when I realize that prince charming is Dominick freaking Carisi Jr., my own boss, the guy I’m heads over heels for, for a year. My eyes fall on the shoe in his hand, my shoe, the one I lost.

  “It was you all along”, he almost murmurs. “I think this is yours”, he adds, kneeling in front of me before I can even rise from my chair.

  He removes my left shoe from my foot and slips the blue one on. I don’t even respond, I just look into his beautiful blue orbs, wondering how I couldn’t see that it was him all along. How couldn’t I not recognize someone I see almost every day for more than a year. He gets on his feet and holds his hand to me so I can get up too. None of us say a word, he just slips the shawl around my shoulders.

  “It seems that people are talking about us”, he says, his voice still soft and without raising his tone, and I look up to him. “What happened Saturday night, you have no idea for how long I wanted this to happen”, he adds, his hand cupping my cheek, making me look at him. I start to touch his arms, my eyes never leaving his. “Y/N, can I kiss you again ? Because to be honest, that’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about for the last three days and the moment you ran away.”

“Yes, you can, Dominick. And for the record, that’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about too.”

  In no time, he bends his head, and his lips are on mine giving me a soft but yet passionate kiss. I snake my arms around his neck, one of my hands starts to play with his hair, allowing him to pull me a little more into his tall frame, one of his hands finds its way behind my head, when his second arm wraps itself around my waist. Once again, I feel like I’m in a bubble, here in Sonny Carisi’s arms, it’s like nothing can harm me there.

  “Excuse me, what the hell is going on here ?”

  We both turn our heads to the voice coming from the other side of my desk. Vanessa Hadid is here, starring at us.

  “Miss McCoy, I don’t think I pay you to make out with one of my ADAs. You are paid to assist him, not to kiss him. Mr. Carisi, I don’t think that behavior is appropriated, and this could make both of you fired. Or I can send Miss McCoy back to her little whole downstairs. Your choice Miss McCoy, either you and counsellor Carisi stop there your little make out session and go back to normal relationship, or you can go back to your little hole in the archives or if I want to, I can fire you right away.”

  That’s too much this time, it’s the final straw. Sonny lets go of me and I smooth my clothes.

  “Ms. Hadid, may I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want to be interrupted. I don’t know what I’ve done to you or why you don’t like me. Is it because of my name ? Because my father is one of the greatest and most famous ADA and then DA that city ever known ? Is that an ego problem ? Let me tell you something. I know you’re the one who hired me, so I don’t think that you have see my resume, but if you look at it, you’ll see that I have a law degree, just like you, just like counsellor Carisi, just like my father, the great Jack McCoy. I just chose a different path. I spent a lot of time around here when I was a kid. When I was old enough to work, I helped my father, was his PA and I loved the job, that’s why I chose to be a PA rather than a lawyer. What you’re doing to me is harassment, once again I don’t know why, but I think that it must be because my name is McCoy, that for you maybe I’m privilege because of that. Breaking new, I’m not. But you know what, I know my rights, nothing authorizes you to fire me just because I’m in a relationship with a coworker, especially of it doesn’t jeopardize our work. Sonny and I are a great team. So, threating me of fire me because of that, you don’t have the right to. I could sue you for that you know, and believe me, you never saw me in court. My father could represent me, go out of his retirement, and plead for me. Or I could do it by myself, and believe me, as Jack McCoy’s daughter, I know how to defend a case. So now Ms. Hadid, threat me one more time for no reason and I’ll sue you, and I can guarantee you, that you’ll not win.”

  She opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish out of its tank.

  “If you both think that this relationship will not have a bad influence on your work, there is no problem for me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m on a break from now to the end of the holidays. Both of you have nice holidays and I’ll see you in January.”

  With that, she leaves, letting me and Sonny alone in my hall.

  “I didn’t know you had a law degree”, Sonny wraps his arms around my waist.

“Oh, I don’t tell everyone in fact. Everyone would think that they need to hire me as a lawyer because of my father and I don’t want that. Plus, I think I wouldn’t have made a good attorney. I’m satisfied with my work”, I shrug.

  I look at him, hair disheveled from my hands, so far from their usual combing.

  “Do you want to have lunch outside ?”, he asks.

“Dominick Carisi Jr., are you asking me out ?”

“If you want it to be a date, this can be, Miss McCoy.”

“I’d love to”, I respond, “but maybe it would be better if I wear the same shoes”, I laugh.

  I sit down again on my chair to change my shoe for my boot. When I’m on my feet again, Sonny hands me my coat and helps me to put it. When I’m ready, we walk hand in hand to the elevator.

  “Still nothing planned for Christmas ?”, he questions.

“Nope, nothing but tv and probably Chinese takeout.”

“What if you come with me at my parents’ ? One more person will not change anything. And my mom will be very impressive that I managed to put the glass slipper on Cinderella’s foot.”

  I laugh and I accept, I really have a good feeling about this.

Taglist :

@bisexualcrowley​, @storiesofsvu​, @the16thprecinct​, @svu-ncis-criminalminds​, @australiancarisi​, @teamsladsandgents​, @thatesqcrush​, @caplanreads​, @averyhotchner​,

[sawwyouuinadream]

FIFTH HARMONY EXPOSED

Isn’t this the type of headline that intrigues people? Well, here I will expose some myths that the so-called Exposing accounts go on exposing. Just declaring something here in the beginning: I love all my Fifth Harmony girls, OT5 that is, and read it at your discretion. The thoughts stated below are opinions of mine, gathered over months and years, and I firmly stand by them.

Cutting to the chase, here we go:

1)      Fifth Harmony the Band Image:

This group was manufactured by Simon Cowell on the X-Factor, back in 2012, and it broke up in 2018. On the show, Lauren Jauregui, the green-eyed white Latina was given the majority of solos and they performed songs in Spanish and garnered Hispanic fans banking on the fact that there were three Latinas in the group.

After they signed to Syco/Epic when the show ended, we saw Camila Cabello, the more convincing Latina, who was born in Cuba, get more and more solos. Normani Kordei was promoted as the “dancer” of the group, Ally Brooke as the “unproblematic one”, Lauren as the “broody edgy girl” and Dinah Jane as the “relatable Polynesian”.

Not surprisingly, Camila was the first one to do a solo venture with Shawn Mendes, the song I Know What You Did Last Summer, which, according to me, was a song to test the waters for both Shawn and Camila.

As more time passes, Camila was portrayed like the lead, not by HERSELF, but the trademark that Fifth Harmony was. She stopped talking in interviews, started doing more and more solo stuff, and even signed to a different manager. Voila, we were getting the rift in-band vibes galore.

Now here’s my verdict:

Fifth Harmony was made by Simon to not get the next One Direction, but to get the next Taylor Swift. Little Mix was already there in the U.K, and people know Girl groups don’t do as well as Boy Bands, mostly because of the inherent Misogyny in the society.

They wanted the next relatable girl next door who could influence teenage girls.  Camila being Latina, could now have an even larger fanbase, in Latin America as well as South Asia, because South Asian music is quite similar in a groove to Latin Music.

Why Not Lauren or Ally then?  Well, they were simply not interesting or Latin enough.

Why Not Normani? Do I have to tell? Those bitches are racist as fuck.

Why Not Dinah? Same thing. Less Appeal to a large fanbase.

That’s why Camila was the goofy dorky most relatable person on 5H. That’s why she readily had a high budget tour all set up for her the moment she left the group. That’s why they promoted her. 5H was never the long-lasting plan. Camila was. 5H was just an excuse to get her a strong fanbase and give Epic 4 more mediocre artists. I am really happy that Normani proved her worthiness and released smash hits as well. And mind you, this was done without Camila herself wishing for it. It was just the label’s decision.

 2)      Camila- the beauty or the bitch?

Camila Cabello is a very intriguing person to me. At the first glance, you haven’t seen a more dorky, goofy, and relatable celebrity like her, eating bananas and tripping on air. But then she starts talking about profound and deep experiences, and you go on her Tumblr and find quotes from books and aesthetic pictures. But then you see her leaked text messages and old Tumblr and all those images crumble before your eyes.

Think about this. Among the 5H girls, Dinah, Lauren, Ally, and Normani have friends outside the industry whom they talk to and hang out with. They have family they post about. Camila? She seems to have no friends apart from Sandra and Marielle Guzman, and those are the people we got the leaked texts with. What about her school teachers and school friends? Nothing.  All she hangs out with is Shawn Mendes and Taylor Swift and her mom who follows her like a hawk. She doesn’t seem to have a social life at all except for events she goes for business.

In my opinion, Camila has a pretty big secret that is guarded closely by everybody but her.

Is she racist? Yes. She was. She didn’t have any sensitivity to Black people or their struggles whatsoever. But you have to understand she is Hispanic, and not born in the U.S. And she has sort of always been a big mouth. I am from a country that doesn’t have a single black person in the near 30000 miles. We grow up using racial slurs as if it's nothing. I had to unlearn my indoctrinations and consciously undo the wrongs in my head and implement them in my actions. Bit it doesn’t undo things I said as a child. I bullied one friend of mine in middle school simply because her skin tone was darker than mine. But I was not canceled. Because I am not a celebrity. Have I learned? Yes definitely. I will never dare to act like that again because now I understand the pain of being ostracized and I recognize the struggles of black people. But that happened over time.

I feel like Camila is a changed person now, and tries very hard to educate herself. She is not perfect, but she doesn’t deserve so much hate. She deserves a second chance.  If she was indeed like that, Normani wouldn’t post a photo with her in IT on the eighth anniversary of 5H.

As far as her being a jealous bitch goes. The rest of 5H always had good things to talk about her after 5H dissolved in 2018. Lauren, the activist, even praised her. Dinah still seems pretty close to her.

Did she do solo stuff without 5H knowing?

No. If she did, and the whole not attending meetings thing happened, Dinah wouldn’t go to her Bad Things concert one day before she left the band. Lauren wouldn’t laugh with her in the VMAs like that if they weren’t friends and just work colleagues. The whole 5H vs Camila feud was planned by management because apparently shade helps sales. For both parties. Another manipulative misogynistic example of society.

 3)      Are/ Were Camila and Lauren romantically together?

All the roads lead to Rome honey. Camren has too many coincidences to NOT be real. From song lyrics to shady potato photos to weird comments and body language in interviews, I am pretty sure the Camren blogs will keep you covered.

Why does Lauren hate it so much? Why are we being invasive?

Lauren is supposed to nix it every time because she is contractually bound to do so. She needs to be the one to keep Camila’s straight image intact, although we have more than tons of evidence that Camila is anything but straight.

To everyone who says we shouldn’t force sexuality on people. Heterosexuality is not the default. Don’t force straightness on her. She never said she was straight. We’re just speculating she is with Lauren, and that’s it. Lauren just happens to be a girl. That’s IT.

Why did the nosy shippers out Lauren?

Nobody did. They just speculated on her sexuality based on assumptions. But no fan posted photos of her and Lucy from her aunt’s Facebook, because it was password protected. It was most probably intentional. Note that she shot a coming-out photoshoot with her “ex-girlfriend” Lucy Vives even before the Wedding where she was supposedly outed. Why shoot a photoshoot TO COME OUT and then hide behind the closet? Her coming out was planned as early as 2015, and so was the bearding of Camila simultaneously.

To me, Lauren and Camila are contracts bound to lie, at this moment. But they have a very grown-up and well-communicated relationship that is very sacred and private, and only the two of them know everything about it. Lauren and Camila are still related to the same contract, and this intuition of mine was confirmed yesterday. She was shooting something for Roger gold’s label. I hope the best for both of them, and I would love it if they were together. But them going public would be huge and in my opinion, detrimental to them.

4)      Who’s Shawn Mendes?

A really career-oriented artist. Shawmila is for him and his promotion only. Not his fault though. He is just a conceited boy with good guitar skills who wants to be extremely famous. I will not talk about his sexuality, because unlike Camila, I can’t trace him to anyone in particular.  But I can say this, Camila’s solo career had plans for Shawmila since the very start. I also believe it will end like Jelena and be back and forth for some time for minor promotions.

 Final Verdict:

Nobody is perfect. Don’t make this about Shawmila Vs Camren. Every artist has their struggles. But please break out of the shell of heteronormativity, misogyny, and racism. Love human beings. The 5H girls and Shawn Mendes are teenagers, now adults, who have been oppressed and manipulated by a capitalistic racist homophobic industry, for money and money only. And only the fans have the power to see the truth and choose the right stuff.

[ironmandeficiency]

our love will (never) end

pairing: dogma / reader

word count: 3414

summary: all you wanted was for dogma to come back home but you don’t recognize the broken man that comes off the ship coming straight from umbara.the next time he sees you, he doesn’t recognize you either.

warnings: implied canon typical violence, angst af, umbara happened, lemme know if smth was missed

a/n: don’t say i didn’t warn y’all. no beta just me drinkin’ my dumb bitch juice

you’d spent more than half your life around the clones, had become used to their presence since your mother was recruited to train them in combat. had even helped with the youngest ones when they were fresh from their tubes, washing the fluids from them before wrapping them in their first set of clothes. the clones had become your brothers and friends, and they were much better company than the longnecks that occupied tipoca city.

once you were old enough, you joined them in their training. you learned their battle techniques, the subtle languages they spoke without uttering a word, you were one of them.

that’s why the losses sustained at the battle of geonosis, the first true test on the training they spent their lives surrounded by, wounded you so deeply.

days after the battle you were able to weasel your way into the records kept by the longnecks. it took you nearly hours to finish scanning the holo list of numbers, and only seconds for the grief to thrum through your veins, to settle into your bones. so many of your friends were lost that day, many that you had given names to, and your shoulders were aching under the weight of a loss that substantial.

then they were assigned to generals, jedi that probably wouldn’t care about who they were as men, as living beings with hearts and minds and souls that were far more different than the origins of their creation led people to believe. kamino had never been so empty as it had been once battalions were formed and assignments given, thousands of soldiers being sent to war.

the solemn emptiness took some getting used to, as did the togruta jedi sent to kamino to oversee the functioning of the cloning facility. she was kind though, and none of the clones appeared afraid of her so she was okay in your book. the one thing that you had yet to get used to was the fear you’d see in the eyes of a clone before their first assignment.

even though this is what they were raised to do, was what they were told by the longnecks was their only purpose (it was banthashit and you never hesitated to express as much), there was still a residual fear because they had seen brothers come back from the battlefield. they also knew that not all of them returned to their battalions once they left the front lines.

this knowledge was common, and there were many secrets told to you by long dead men about things that would have gotten them into trouble with immeasurable consequences. things they did to pass the time, things that made them happy like singing or writing poetry. it didn’t take you long after bonding with the clones as a young child that you realized that you were different than them, that you were lucky to be able to play and smile and be a child.

you lamented this discovery to your mother once. all she said was that the soldiers were dealt a shit hand by the galaxy and that they were lucky to have you to make it better for them. then she would tell you bedtime stories and fairy tales she knew good and well that you would relay to your identical brothers young and old.

but these days, you weren’t allowed to show the clones that kindness, that silliness that you were able to have with your brothers all those years ago. you were an adult now, and as such you would soon be expected to aid in the training of the republic’s soldiers despite a lack of actual outside world experience. you hadn’t left kamino since you arrived here as a child and had never used your training in a real-life situation.

what if you failed them? what if you taught something wrong and it resulted in their CT number being the next to show up on the lists of casualties? you were quaking with fear at the trust being placed in you.

which is why you were sitting outside during the kind of downpour kamino was known for, each raindrop heavier than your heart. no bother was given to your sopping wet state nor to the fact you’d get sick from this.

then you were joined in the rain by a familiar form.

“your immune system isn’t made to withstand this weather for very long.” some would have thought him to be uncaring, even callous and dickish with his words, but not you. this was the way he showed he cared about you — very seldom with those exact words, and never in a way where someone he didn’t want to know could see that he cared.

your eyes flitted up to his before returning their focus on the crashing waves around you. “my heart wasn’t made to withstand you leaving me.”

he sank to the ground beside you, the sound of his breathing being heard once he removes his helmet and lays it down beside his sitting form. an arm finds itself around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, a gentle kiss being placed against your rain-slick temple.

his touch warms you from your nose to the tips of your toes in spite of the cold rain pouring down. it was something he was able to do effortlessly and it never failed to bring a smile to your face. “i’m never truly gone, cyare. you’ll always be able to find me no matter where i am in the galaxy.”

a gloved hand found your shaking ones, his thumb smoothing over the top of your hand in an attempt to quell the shaking. you squeeze it in thanks and let yourself be pulled into his lap by it, your face quick to nuzzle into his neck.

“promise me you’ll be safe, dogma.”

“of course, my love.”

when he joined the five-oh-first comms were as frequent as possible, and when you weren’t able to talk to him, your eyes would be glued to the casualty reports that made their way to kamino. his number was never among the most of the dead, thank the stars, and that knowledge would sustain you until he would finally have the chance to talk to you again.

it was late into the night cycle when your private channel beeped, signifying an incoming call from dogma.

“that last mission… it was rough, cyare. i’m sorry i couldn’t comm you sooner.”

“never apologize, i know it’s not easy out there.”

dogma could never grow tired of the way you were so patient for him, for the things he did day in and day out. it made what he was about to say even harder for him.

“this next mission isn’t going to have any free time, we’re being sent planetside on umbara within two rotations. i don’t know how long the planetary takeover will last, but there won’t be a moment where we’re not unconscious or fighting. i won’t be able to talk for a while, my light. please understand.” he sounded almost in tears, like there was a lump in his throat trying to keep the words from escaping, to keep from hurting you.

you didn’t like to hear him like that. your strong and brave dogma crippled by emotion was never a comforting experience, especially when you couldn’t hold him and guide him out of the dark spaces his mind crawled into.

“never feel guilty for doing your duty, for keeping your brothers safe. just be sure you come home to me when your duty is done.”

“i’ll always come home to you, i swear it.”

the longnecks were in a tizzy three days later, rambling about a defect on the front lines. the sounds of a panicked kaminiise was not a sound you thought you’d ever hear again after what happened on christophsis. you eavesdropped plenty but you could never catch a CT number or a planet or a battalion name which infuriated you to no end. it was time to check the most recent records to see if you could find something there.

the morning cycle was minutes from beginning when you made your way to an unrestricted holoscreen where several reports were pulled up. your eyes scanned the writing; there was the familiar list of the dead, several more numbers sending waves of grief to crash against your soul.

information about how three members of the five-oh-first defied orders and flew umbaran ships in a successful attempt to destroy the separatist ship giving supplies to the enemy, and the death of one of the troopers involved in the unsanctioned air raid, one ct-6969 — hardcase. another wave crashed against your weary heart and was beginning to turn your insides into a hurricane that kamino’s oceans could only dream of rivaling.

there were details about the botched execution of two clones who defied the aforementioned direct orders from a general pong krell, ct-27-5555 and ct-5597 — fives and jesse.

pong krell wasn’t dogma’s general, wasn’t the general of the boys in blue. that was anakin skywalker and dogma spoke highly of his jedi general the few times he was brought up in conversations. pong krell, even though you’d never had the displeasure of meeting the besalisk in person, knew of his reputation.

he was cruel and vicious, using the lives of those under his command as rungs on his own ladder of wartime success. many of the brothers you loved perished under his commands and his name was an eyesore.

most jarring was the depiction of how a clone shot general pong krell in the back, and how the clone’s sentence was to be decided upon once they arrived on kamino.

that meant one of three things: euthanization, reconditioning, and experimentation followed by one of the former options. none of them are by any means pleasant, but you hoped for that trooper’s sake that they were allowed peace no matter their offenses.

but now one question remained: who killed the jedi general? why was his CT number not mentioned in the files? you had to talk to dogma, to make sure he was safe, that he was finding healthy ways to grieve the loss of hardcase, to cope with everything this report says occurred on the shadow planet.

“i know you said you wouldn’t be able to talk while on umbara but i just read the reports sent to the longnecks. i’m scared and i need to hear your voice for a second, just a second, please.”

“i heard about hardcase,” you sniffled and swallowed your grief for one of your dearest friends in the name of supporting your beloved. “what him and jesse and fives did… the death of the jedi. please answer me, i need to know you’re okay.”

“you know i wouldn’t ask this of you any other time, but please give me something, tell me you’re alive! tell me you survived the carnage of pong krell!”

“dogma, answer me please! you’re scaring me!”

“ner kar’ta, please don’t make me add you to my remembrances. please, dogma, don’t make me do it…”

“dogma… ni kart’ayl darasuum.”

fitful sleep came with you clutching your commlink against your heart, tears falling like rain. there was a good chance that maybe he was mangled beyond recognition, or maybe they haven’t noticed he was missing yet. there had to be a reason dogma wasn’t on the list of the lost and why he hadn’t answered you.

then your commlink crackled you life. “who is this and how do you know dogma?”

did fate exist only to torment you? that’s what it felt like in this moment.

“i’m not answering any questions until you tell me where he is and how you found that commlink.”

logic told you that the person on the other end was indeed a clone, but your mind was too jumbled for you to recognize who it was. you had to clean up the mess your love left behind you and dogma, anything to keep him from punishment.

“the name’s fives, the comm was confiscated when we… when we had to court martial him for disobedience.”

disobedience? dogma? those words may start with the same letter but they couldn’t be more juxtaposed if the words themselves put effort into it. then your mind reminds you of details from that karking report and you suddenly feel like you had been tossed into the roaring waves below you.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!”

the arc trooper grew enraged in his grief, in the horrors of what he saw on umbara and the audacity you had to accuse him of hurting his brother. “he did it to himself! he did it to protect us all from that demagolka even though no one ordered him to! when no one had the courage to do it, not even rex!”

what did your cyare do? your heart was in denial of the ideas your brain supplied because now they were leading to the same place.

“was he the one that killed krell?”

silence.

“fives! was he the one to-“

“yes! kriff, it was him! he’s the one who did it!”

dogma remembers the besalik’s traitorous admission and the way he manipulated dogma for his own benefit, to divide his brothers enough to keep them from revealing his plan. the way he and the five-oh-first fired on their own brothers, how their own brothers fired on them. naive death caused by what dogma discovered was the blind loyalty he heard others talk about when it came to following orders.

he remembers the feeling of the bracers around his wrist as he was escorted to the laat, the nods from his brothers as they give him respect he isn’t sure he earned for killing the man who caused them so much suffering.

the only thing that his mind doesn’t bring to his attention is the commlink that was stripped from him when taken into the umbaran cell, the only means of communicating with you without taking immeasurable risk.

he’s halfway to kamino by the time his mind registers that it isn’t with him and it’s the first true fear he’s felt since he was led into the cell by his own brothers and krell revealing how he manipulated every last one of them.

his thoughts drifted to what would become of him once he returned to the planet he was born on, the planet where he met the only sunshine he had to speak of on the shadow planet that sealed his fate. he hopes to see you before he’s punished for his actions but that’s uncertain. there’s no guarantee that you’re going to know he was returning, even more so under the circumstances that he’s coming back under.

there’s one certainty dogma has through all of this: he’s going to die on kamino. but if he’s able to see you in person and hold you in his arms one last time, then he’d accept death with open arms.

the last thoughts that run through his head as he’s being pulled from the ship and into longneck custody are of talking to you only days before, when things were still okay, when there wasn’t friendly fire instigated by a traitor, when dogma hadn’t killed a jedi.

his duty was in fact done, and he was coming home, but there was no guarantee that you would be part of that home, not after what he’s done.

you fail. despite the strength of your love and determination to find him, you don’t.

in all your years of finding longneck secrets and reading their reports, there was nothing on dogma. there was no record of his presence here and it was chilling. you knew the sorts of things that could be found in reports (and they were by no means pleasant), but if even these assholes weren’t going to keep digital record of it, it must be bad.

no one even saw the arrival of the ship dogma was carried in and there was no footage from any of the docks’ security cameras. your lover was a ghost, a wisp, a memory. even the cadets that dogma had known before he deployed (slightly older now, almost ready to be sent to the front lines) seemed to forget about their ori’vod.

it was as if dogma didn’t exist outside of your own head. like he was a figment of your imagination that you would conjure when the nights got lonely. you frequently drew his v tattoo in hopes of you keeping its pattern fresh in your mind because dogma deserved to be remembered. for his sacrifice, for his loyalty, for how deep his love ran not just for his brothers and the republic, but for you.

months flew by with endless searching, digging through files and scouring the base when no one was around. it was all in vain. dogma was no more; at least, not the dogma you knew.

you had found a new normal in your life on kamino. taking up the torch of training young cadets that your mother carried before you, doing your best to ensure their survival in a war built to destroy. dogma was carried with you always, but you stopped asking others about him, resigned to keeping him in your heart like a deep secret. what little hobbies one could find on the rainy planet were indulged as you tried to refill the time you allotted to talk to your cyare before he faded from the memories of his brothers.

since obtaining your new training role, many of the clones looked to you as an authority figure and not an equal. you were a superior now, and they treated you as such. there were no words in any language that you could find that could convey how uncomfortable you were with that, not when you had grown up with so many of them, had swaddled them when they emerged from their growth tanks.

although, there was one clone whom you called a friend these days that didn’t treat you with the same rigid respect his batchmates treated you with. his name was novak; he was kind and loyal and attentive, and if you squinted under the bright fluorescent lights you could see the faintest outline of a geometric v on his face.

that had to be your imagination playing tricks, you reasoned. you’re mostly sure you had seen that same shadow on the face of every clone in the days after dogma’s supposed return to kamino. then again, nowadays you only had this thought around him and no one else.

“got my assignment,” he told you one day over breakfast. “the 327th, under general secura and commander bly.”

“i hear she’s a great jedi, novak. you’ll be in good hands.”

he nods and hums in acknowledgement around a bite of food. there’s a look on his face that tells you he’s deep in thought and for a moment you think you’re looking at a ghost, but then his eyebrow ticks up and the illusion fades.

“my squad and i, we’ll be headed to felucia. and i, uh, wanted to ask you something before you left.” his demeanor changes. before he was casual, relaxed, and you had no idea what switch flipped that now had him fidgety and with the beginnings of a stutter. “could i… could i possibly comm you while i’m there? my batchmates are gone, and i don’t really have anyone else i want to talk to. but if that’s something you’re not comfortable with then you don’t have to do anything i wouldn’t want to cross any bound-”

a finger pressed to his lips ends his rambling. “novak, i would like that a lot.”

it took two weeks.

novak spent two weeks on felucia before he and most of his squad were either killed by droids or devoured by the various flora and fauna of the jungle planet.

the trooper’s last thoughts were of you.

he had been having dreams about you for months. they were of late night conversations through holo about things he had no memory of. time spent in the kamino rains holding each other tight as if letting go would be the end of life as you knew it. the love for you that seemed to have appeared overnight. you would never know these things, and novak regretted that until his last breath.