#like if we drifted off and never spoke to each other again I don’t think I would gaf

[theriverdalereviewer]

REALIZED SOMETHING CRAZY ABOUT MYSELF…

[buckysgrace]

The Importance of Updog

Part one of Closer to My Heart!

Single dad!Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Theo shares the new words that he's heard. Billy is late as usual.

“No,” Becky drew out, “Mermaids can’t be this color.” She snapped as she pointed towards the mixes of orange and purple on Rosa’s paper. Rosa’s nose crinkled in response. 

“Yes they can,” Rosa snapped back, looking just as frustrated, “You’re a liar.” She said quickly, pointing her finger at Becky. You quickly wiggled yourself in between, knowing that Becky liked to bite rather than argue. 

“Hold on,” You spoke up to get their attention, “This is a really good question. How can we find out what color mermaids are?” You asked them, tapping your finger against your chin as you pretended to think for yourself. You liked giving your students the opportunity to work out their issues on their own. Sometimes.

“Well-,” Becky began, only to be cut off by a loud sigh further down from the room.

“Motherfucker!”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you snapped your head around, your students following your lead as the room suddenly became quiet. You drifted your gaze towards your table of boys that usually were full of giggles and anything but dirty words. 

“Shitbiwd!” The smallest one yelling out, his dark eyebrows furrowed together as he stared angrily at the blue marker he’d been shaking in his little fists. He pouted his little lips out, looking frustrated as he tried to scribble once again. 

“Theo,” You rushed over, ignoring the sounds of the other little boys and girls gasping as you knelt down by him, “What’s wrong?” You whispered towards him, surprised that he had said such a thing. You never had any issue with him. 

Theo had been in the daycare since he was an infant. He was a big snuggler, one of your loudest gigglers and was always first in line for snack time. Hearing him curse was something new, as was seeing him so frustrated. 

“It empty,” He said in annoyance, “Wook!” He proclaimed as he tried to draw, showing off that the ink was gone. His blue eyes looked up towards you worriedly, like the world would end if he couldn’t get green down on his paper. 

“So what can we do about it?” You asked him calmly, watching the way his features slowly relaxed and his blue eyes widened. He stuck his tongue out in the same way he did when he was thinking extra hard. 

“Get a new one?” He questioned you, his blonde little curls still hanging over his forehead despite his new haircut. You figured he must’ve been outside a lot this weekend as his cheeks were full of fresh freckles. 

“Mhm,” You told him as you nodded your head, “And what can we say instead of using bad words?” You asked him casually, sure that he would come to his own conclusion. You blinked, watching as his features fell in despair. 

“I said bad word?” He asked you fearfully, his eyes filling with tears as he brought his chubby hands to his face, “Oh no!” He spit out dramatically, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured him quickly, feeling guilty for making him cry, “You didn’t know. You don’t have to be sad.” You rubbed at his back as he collapsed into your arms, his little shoulders shaking as he cried. 

“My daddy say -,” He started as he sniffled harshly, burying his face into the crook of your neck, “My tongue tuwn to bugs if I say bad words!” He proclaimed once again, sounding quite sure of himself. You huffed, but quickly slid your disdain for his father away. 

“Theo has bugs.” One of the other little boys began to whisper, followed by a little course of giggles from your three and four year olds. You shook your head as Theo whimpered into your chest, as if his whole life was over. 

“Theo does not have bugs.” You told them seriously, meeting eye contact with each one until they were no longer laughing. Theo pulled his head away curiously, his skin flushed from where he’d been crying.

“My daddy lie?” He asked you in horror as you reached for a tissue, handing it to him tenderly. You bit your lip, knowing that one of the hardest parts of your job was to find the delicate balance between teaching them and sticking to the rules their parents set up. 

“No. I didn’t say that,” You clarified softly as he lightly dabbed at his eyes, “Stick out your tongue.” You told him as you sat back. He looked at you confused, his little button nose wrinkling up. 

“Huh?”

“Let’s check for bugs,” You said, tilting your head while he stuck his tongue out for you to see, “Hm.” You pretended to think as you playfully tilted his head from side to side. Zane, who sat next to him, leaned closer in curiosity. 

“Wha?” He asked, still holding his tongue out. His blue eyes were wide with fear as he kept flickering his gaze down to you. 

“All I see is up dog.” You replied as you put on a frown, dropping his chin at the same time he stuck his tongue back into his mouth. 

“What’s up dog?” He asked almost perfectly as you felt a smile form on your lips. Humor really was the best medicine. 

“Not much, dog. What’s up with you?” You grinned as you asked him the question, fingers pressing into his soft sides as he let out a loud giggle. His eyes lit up in joy, already forgetting the previous situation. 

The remainder of craft time was spent with your children telling each other the updog joke, as in their eyes you were clearly the funniest person they knew for the time being. And you were fine with that. At least they appreciated your humor. 

You passed off reading time to one of the assistant teachers, knowing that you needed to at least attempt to reach Theo’s father before the day was over. Even though you didn’t want to. You never wanted to. 

“Is Billy Hargrove there?” You asked once someone from the auto shop finally picked up, “I’m with Sunnyside-“

“Just a second.” The guy answered you before you could finish, making you feel as if you already knew where this call was heading. Billy was never pleasant when you called, always acting as if you were purposely trying to annoy him. Even though you were doing your job. 

“Yeah?” You listened to the sound of Billy’s voice a moment later. He sounded slightly out of breath, his tone raspy and uneven. You were sure his hands were probably greasy and dirty, his forehead sweaty. But you shook those thoughts away. 

“Hi,” You began, “There was an incident today at S-“ You read off the same script that had been engraved in your brain since you had started here. 

“Is Theo okay?” He interjected, “Did that Ricky boy bite him again?” He snapped, sounding as frustrated as Theo had earlier. You chewed on your bottom lip, but knew he had a fair point of being concerned with RIcky. Lucky for all of them, he no longer attended this daycare. 

“No,” You said slowly as you tried to keep your cool as you kept getting interrupted, “As I was saying, there was an incident today with Theo cursing.” You spoke a little faster in hopes that you wouldn’t get cut off this time. 

“So?” Billy scoffed as if it was no big deal. In all honesty, you did think it was sort of funny. But it was against the rules and you were just following the right steps so it didn’t look like you were stepping on anyone’s toes.

You wished you could step on Billy’s toes. Perhaps with a sharp pair of heels. Maybe he wouldn’t be so arrogant then. 

“It’s against the rules to have the children using profanity,” You replied as you rubbed at the back of your neck, trying to keep yourself from using the snarky tone that was crawling up the base of your throat, “I just had to call to keep you informed.”

“Isn’t your main rule for children to express themselves?” He asked and you swore you could feel the cocky smirk forming on his lips despite him not being here. He always wore it when he questioned you, as if you were the one that was doing something wrong. 

“I did not create the rules,” You replied sharply, “I’m just following the system so you’re up to date with the care of your child.” You spoke professionally despite the bitterness coursing through your system. Asshole. 

“Is Theo okay?” He asked a little softer, making your shoulders relax. Just a smidge. You were still on edge, feeling like he was tricking you with his gentle tone. Deep down you knew that he wasn’t. Despite your grievances towards him, he really was a good dad. Theo adored him. As did every single worker in the building. You didn’t understand the fascination.

He was always late, snippy and curled up his nose at you like you were the scum of the earth. There were many times that you wanted to remind him that he could move Theo to a different classroom if he wanted, but he never did. It was like he enjoyed torturing you. 

“He’s better now,” You responded as you nodded your head, “I just had to update before I filled out a behavior she-,” You were once again cut off, unable to finish your sentence. Perhaps that’s where the dislike came from as well.

“I’ll talk to Linda about it.” He hung up before you could respond, making you silently seethe in anger for a moment as he once again went above your head. You hoped the car grease seeped into his pretty blonde hair and ruined it. 

As usual, Billy strolled in at exactly 5:15, fifteen minutes passed when the daycare was officially closed. Something your supervisor liked to yell at you about. As if it was your fault. You’d given Billy the warnings, the reminder slips and everything above and beyond. He didn’t care and you no longer wasted your breath. You had learned to pick up your classroom at that time, to clock out and sit up front with Theo until Billy decided to arrive. 

He put out his cigarette before he entered, his curly hair loosely tied back as some strands fell in front of his forehead. He was out of his mechanic uniform, wearing a tight pair of jeans and a white tank top. You tore your gaze away from his formed biceps, distracting yourself with how many rainbows were decorated on the walls instead. 

“Daddy!” Theo proclaimed, dropping his collection of toy cars as he bolted towards Billy, “Hi!” He squealed out, a smile bursting on his face as he reached for Billy’s arms. You smiled despite yourself. Perhaps all of Billy’s best qualities had gone to his son.

“Hey, squirt,” Billy responded affectionately as he kissed the side of Theo’s head, “How was today?” He asked as he bounced him in his arms, pulling a grin on his lips.

“Fun!” He replied as he rested his cheek against Billy’s for a moment. He really was the spitting image of his father. You shook your head as you began to place his toy cars into his backpack.

“He can do that.” Billy responded, stalling your movements as you held up your hands innocently. Usually your interactions were fake smiles and the occasional good night. But that was only if you were extra annoyed with him. His presence was already making your blood boil.

“Thank you teachew,” Theo smiled happily as he waddled back towards you. You slightly wondered if Billy purposely made him forget your name, “You come back?” He asked as he tilted his head, worried as if you would suddenly disappear.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, dog.” You teased him as he gave your fingers a little squeeze. He giggled, his eyes lighting up and his features bursting into joy as he turned back towards his father who looked anything but impressed. 

“Hey,” Theo ran up to him again, “I see your tongue.” He stated as he stared up at Billy, his backpack far too big for his little body. You pressed your lips together as you gathered your purse and collected yourself from the floor.

“What?”

“Please.” Theo begged as he tugged on Billy’s large hands. You kept to yourself but stayed put, knowing you couldn’t officially leave until they were gone. 

“Okay,” Billy pulled his lips together, like he was trying to keep from smiling, “What do you think?” He asked then stuck out his tongue, bending over a little bit so Theo could see better. 

“I don’t know,” Theo said as he rested his hands on his hips, “All I see is updog.” He replied, covering his mouth as he began to giggle. He was bouncing on the tips of his feet, unable to hide his excitement. 

“Updog?” Billy asked him curiously, going off script as he tilted his head to the side. He spared you a glance, but you quickly turned away from him. You offered no explanations. 

“Yeah,” Theo replied as he wrinkled his eyebrows together, “Updog!” He said sternly, his eyebrows wrinkling together once again. You debated about helping him out, but stopped in case Billy snapped at you again. 

“What’s that?”

“Daddy no,” He grumbled in frustration, “You have to say the name!”

“What’s updog?” Billy asked this time, raising an eyebrow as he waited. Theo was still grinning, the words on the tip of his tongue before it slowly fell. He wrinkled his eyebrows together, his features wrinkling into confusion as he faced you.

You met him halfway, sitting back on your knees as he raced over to you. He pouted his lips out as he gripped one of your hands, leaning against you as he stood to whisper into your ear, “How’s it go again?”

You smiled as you turned him around, still letting him hold your hand as you whispered to him, “Not much dog, what’s up with you?” He giggled as he listened before he repeated it back to Billy, laughing so hard that it was almost hard to make out the words.

“Ha,” Billy responded dryly, but his eyes crinkled in amusement as he held out his hand for Theo again, “You better get moving before we have updog for dinner.” His eyes slowly cut into yours but you turned away, having no desire to see how dumb he thought the joke was. 

“Uh oh,” Theo’s eyes widened as he quickly glanced at you before he bounced back towards Billy, “See you ‘morrow teachew!” He waved before he took Billy’s hand, rambling about his day as they left.

You used your key to lock up, ready to get home and have something strong. Perhaps a drink. Perhaps you’d eat your feelings away. Perhaps you’d buy a carton of cigarettes on the way home. The exciting possibilities were just endless. 

Your joy for the day only grew as you arrived at your car, almost jumping in joy to see the front tire that was completely lifeless and deflated of air. Perfect. Just the cherry on top that you needed. 

You turned on your heel, grumbling for the first time as you headed down the street. Looks like you’d be taking the bus. Your car could wait for later. You didn’t feel like unlocking the building and calling for anyone yet. That could wait for tomorrow. 

[mountsmase]

Christmas Day

(The last one!! Thank you to everyone who has read all of the concepts over the last 12 days and everyone who has sent any in. So much love to you all 🫶🏻)

———————

Just thinking about Christmas Day with Mason and all of the different ways you could spend it together…

So we know he usually spends Christmas Day with his family, so imagine being a part of that. Maybe you and Mason don’t actually live together yet but he invites you over to sleep at his and wake up with them all on Christmas morning. He understands that you’d still need to see your family so maybe you and Mason would see them on Christmas Eve before driving back to his together.

All of his family would be staying so Christmas morning would be chaotic, but in the best way possible. You’d all sit together in the living area, with Mason sitting right next to you, pulling you into his side and you’d snuggle into him, tugging on a blanket that rests over the back of the sofa so it falls over your laps. You’d all take turns opening presents, watching his two nieces as they tear through the paper, joy lighting up their faces every time they find a toy or something they’d asked Santa for.

You’d love getting to spend Christmas with him and his family, and would always be grateful for how welcoming they are towards you, always making you feel like part of their family, but you’d also love the little moment that you and Mason get together.

Maybe you’d make the effort to wake up a little earlier than everyone else, taking the opportunity to cuddle and be together in bed for a while before all the craziness starts. It would be hard to stay awake, his warmth and the feeling of his fingertips tracing patterns over your skin the perfect recipe to fall back asleep, but he makes sure to wake you up if you do drift back off. Maybe you’d even exchange a few presents with each other before going to find everyone else, some of them a little more meaningful or just ones you don’t want to open in front of the rest of his family, like Mason would always buy you some new lingerie and would obviously want you to open that when it’s just the two of you.

Maybe there’d even be a bit of lazy morning sex. You’ve always been a bit funny about having sex with him whilst his family are in the house because what if they hear or walk in on you, but the door is locked anyway and the minuet he gives you those eyes you know you’re going to give into him. It would be the soft, lazy kind, a little bit of foreplay leading up to him thrusting into you slowly, under the covers with both of you still wearing your PJ tops because you were so desperate for eachother that you never got around to taking them off. There’d be loads of kidding to keep eachother quiet and you’ve have to have a quick shower to clean up and make yourselves look more presentable, and less like you’ve just had sex before going downstairs to be with the rest of his family.

Now thinking about spending Christmas Day together when you’ve got your own children…

I spoke about how Christmas Eve would go as a family of four in the last concept, so leading on from that they’d both come bounding into your bedroom as soon as they’re awake, waking you and Mason up to tell you that Santas been. They’re both so excited and you know you can’t make them wait any longer so you’d follow them downstairs to begin opening the presents.

Maybe you’d let them open all of their presents from ‘Santa’ first and then you’d take a little break, not wanting all of the excitement to be over so soon. You’d make some breakfast, with Mason putting in the effort to make it an extra special one, even attempting to make some snow man shaped pancakes before going out on a family walk. Maybe one of their presents were new bikes or scooters so you and Mason follow behind them whilst they ride them.

When you get home again you let them open the rest of your gifts, all of them would be from you and Mason though, signed ‘from Mummy and Daddy’ and it would warm your heart because every time they open one they’d come running over to thank you and give you each a hug. Then you and Mason would get to open your gifts from each other, the little ones just as interested in what you’ve each opened.

It would be the best morning ever and once all of the wrapping paper is tidied away you’d start getting ready to go and spend the rest of the day with family.

And I’m sure there’d be some christmases where you and Mason wake up with just the two of at home.

Maybe you’re hosting the rest of his family in the afternoon for Christmas dinner but it’s your first year living together so you wanted to experience waking up and spending Christmas morning just the two of you in your new home.

You’d wake up with absolutely no rush to get out of bed, having the laziest of lazy mornings before giving each other your gifts and having breakfast in bed before it gets so late that you have to get up and start getting ready.

The two of you trying to make Christmas dinner together would be interesting. Maybe you’d offered to cook it this year since you’ll be hosting anyway and some of it goes really well, but some of it not so much. It would take up the majority of the day, each of you taking control of certain dishes to make the process a little quicker but you still end up needing the help of his mum and sister when they arrive in the early afternoon, wanting their help with things like the turkey because you’re too worried about somehow messing it up and ruining the whole meal. Mason would also be feeling extra touchy and would be all over you the whole time, not necessarily making it easy for you to focus on the cooking when his hands are roaming everywhere.

Christmas with him would just be the best, whether you’re spending it just the two of you or with the whole family, and I know that he’d spoil you rotten, buying you loads of gifts even if you told him not to but you’d love everything he gets for you. He knows you so well and can tell when you want something even if you don’t actually say it. Like a lot of your gifts would be things he’s seen saved in your favourites or wish lists, or things he knows you want but would never buy yourself. And you’d spoil him to, wanting him to have just as much to open even if he is quite hard to buy for.

———————

Day 12 Concept night tomorrow. I’ll be working so I’ll be scheduling them all to post 10 minuets apart 🫶🏻 please send them in asap if you have any 😚

[novaursa]

Where Wolves Wander (2/2)

- Summary: You and Jon were always close, but as the years went by and those feelings grew, your mother decided to put an end to it. 

- Paring: stark!reader/Jon Snow

-Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: 1/2

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The chill of Castle Black bit through the thick layers of black wool and leather as Jon and Sam sat by a small fire, their breath frosting in the cold air despite the flickering warmth. The other recruits had long since turned in for the night, leaving the two friends alone under the watchful gaze of the Wall. A quiet, easy camaraderie had grown between them, one that had become a rare comfort in the harsh environment of the Night’s Watch.

Sam looked over at Jon, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What was it like… you know, before all this?” he asked, gesturing around to the cold, stony expanse of Castle Black. “Living in Winterfell, with your family?”

Jon glanced at Sam, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he poked at the fire. “Winterfell… It was different from here,” he began softly. “Warmer, in a way. Even with all the cold stone, it felt… alive. My brothers, sisters… they made it feel like home.”

Sam nodded, leaning forward, clearly fascinated. “You talk about it like it was something out of a story,” he murmured. “It sounds… wonderful.”

Jon let out a quiet chuckle. “It had its moments. Robb, Sansa, Arya… they were all different, each of them with their own ways of making life interesting. And then there was…” He trailed off, hesitating.

Sam’s gaze sharpened, noticing the sudden softness in Jon’s voice. “And then there was…?”

Jon looked away, a brief smile crossing his face before he spoke again. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with something warmer than nostalgia. “Robb’s twin. My… sister.”

Sam’s interest piqued immediately, and he leaned in, hanging on every word. “I didn’t know Robb had a twin. What was she like?”

Jon took a slow breath, letting his thoughts drift back to Winterfell. “She… she’s everything the North is. Strong, fierce, stubborn, but kind and loyal too. She’s one of the few who could see past what I am, you know? She never treated me like… a reminder of my birth.”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “What you are? But you’re a Stark, aren’t you? I mean… you were raised with them.”

Jon’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “Raised with them, yes, but I was always reminded that I wasn’t… truly one of them. I don’t carry the Stark name, nor the claim to anything but what I was given.” He paused, his gaze softening. “But Y/N never saw me like that. She just saw… me.”

Sam’s eyes gleamed with empathy, his expression thoughtful. “That must have been… wonderful,” he said quietly. “Having someone who saw you for who you really are, rather than what people think you are.”

Jon nodded, a hint of a bittersweet smile on his face. “Aye, it was.” He glanced down, poking at the fire again, but Sam’s curiosity hadn’t been fully sated.

“Did she know… that you were planning to join the Night’s Watch?” Sam asked hesitantly, clearly worried he might be treading into sensitive territory.

Jon let out a breath, his gaze distant. “She found out, yes. Before I left. We had a moment to talk, just the two of us. She… tried to convince me to stay.” He paused, his voice growing quieter. “I think… part of her understood why I had to go, but… I know it hurt her.”

Sam was silent for a moment, taking in Jon’s words. He looked at Jon with a kind, understanding gaze. “And did it hurt you, too? Leaving her?”

Jon didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening. The memories flooded back, memories of quiet talks in the Godswood, her laughter filling the air, the way her hand had lingered on his arm that last day as if holding on to him just a little longer. “More than I thought it would,” he admitted, voice barely more than a whisper. “More than anything.”

Sam offered a sympathetic nod, his eyes filled with a sadness that only a friend could share. “It’s hard, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Leaving behind the people who make you feel like you… belong. And now, here we are… in a place that feels like it could swallow us whole.”

Jon met Sam’s gaze, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Aye. But I suppose that’s why we’re here together.” He glanced back at the fire, the warmth a stark contrast to the cold emptiness he felt when he thought of Winterfell, and of you.

Sam, sensing the weight of Jon’s silence, ventured softly, “Maybe, one day… you’ll see her again.”

Jon’s smile faded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and resignation. “Maybe,” he replied, though his voice held a sadness that told Sam he didn’t quite believe it. But in the quiet company of his friend, the ache of your absence was a little easier to bear, and for now, that was enough.

The air beyond the Wall was colder than anything Jon had ever felt in Winterfell—a harsh, biting chill that seeped through the layers of fur and leather, numbing skin and bone alike. He trudged through the snow alongside his brothers in black, each breath clouding the air with mist, every crunch of their boots echoing eerily in the silent wilderness. Jeor Mormont led them, his broad back a dark silhouette against the endless white. Jon kept a steady pace, his eyes scanning the treeline, ever vigilant, knowing the danger that lurked in the unknown beyond.

Sam walked beside him, his teeth chattering as he pulled his cloak tighter around his body. “W-w-why did it have to be so c-c-cold?” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crunch of snow beneath their feet.

Eddison Tollett, known as Dolorous Edd for good reason, let out a grim chuckle. “Ah, cheer up, Sam. It could be worse.”

“How could it possibly be worse?” Sam asked, his expression a mix of incredulity and misery.

“We could be dead,” Edd replied with a deadpan expression. “Then we wouldn’t feel the cold at all.”

Grenn snorted from behind them, shaking his head. “Leave it to Edd to find the bright side of freezing to death.”

Their banter was interrupted by a sudden rustling from the forest ahead, a swift, urgent sound that made Jon’s heart leap into his throat. A shape emerged from the snow-dusted trees—white, sleek, and silent. Ghost.

“Ghost,” Jon breathed, his voice tinged with relief and confusion. “What are you doing here, boy?”

Ghost bounded forward, his red eyes sharp and alert, his movements graceful and purposeful. But it was what followed that made Jon’s blood run cold—a second wolf, darker in color, moving with a quiet ferocity. Shadow.

The familiar amber eyes of your direwolf locked with Jon’s, and his heart twisted painfully in his chest. Shadow’s presence here, beyond the Wall, meant one thing: you were nearby, or something had gone horribly wrong.

“What the bloody hell?” Grenn murmured, stepping back in surprise as the black wolf padded closer, its coat blending into the shadowed treeline. “Is that…?”

“Aye,” Jon said, his voice strained, his gaze fixed on Shadow. “That’s Y/N’s wolf.”

The others looked at Jon with a mix of confusion and concern, their breath puffing out in short, quick clouds. Pypar, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. “What’s her wolf doing here, Jon? I thought she was back at Winterfell.”

“So did I,” Jon muttered, his mind racing with possibilities, each one worse than the last. He knelt down, extending a hand toward Shadow, who hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, sniffing his hand cautiously. The wolf's fur was cold and wet, matted with bits of snow, as if it had traveled a great distance.

Sam looked at Jon, his face pale. “Do you think… do you think something’s happened to her?” he asked in a hushed voice, clearly terrified of the answer.

“I don’t know,” Jon replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it can’t be good. She wouldn’t have sent Shadow all the way out here without a reason.”

“Gods,” Edd muttered, his usual dark humor absent for once. “If she’s come all the way past the Wall… what could have driven her out here?”

“Quiet,” Jeor Mormont’s voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. He approached, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the wolves, then looked at Jon, his expression unreadable. “That’s your sister’s direwolf, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Lord Commander,” Jon confirmed, standing up to face him. “Her name is Shadow. I don’t know why she’s here.”

Mormont’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting between Ghost and Shadow. “A lone wolf crossing the Wall? It’s a strange thing. Wolves don’t stray this far north without reason.”

“What do we do, Lord Commander?” Grenn asked, looking uneasily at the dark trees surrounding them.

“We keep moving,” Mormont said gruffly. “Whatever brought that wolf here, we’re not turning back. But keep your eyes open. If there’s a message in this, I’d wager we’ll find out soon enough.”

Jon nodded, but his mind raced with questions. Was it possible that you were out here somewhere, wandering the same frozen wilderness? Or had something happened back at Winterfell that sent Shadow running, searching for him? The thought twisted in his gut like a knife.

Ghost brushed against his leg, nudging him gently, and Jon rested a hand on his wolf’s head, drawing comfort from the familiar warmth. Shadow circled around him, her amber eyes flicking up to meet his, as if she were silently urging him to understand something—something important.

“What do you think it means, Jon?” Sam whispered, shivering as he glanced back at the wolves. “Why would she come here?”

“I don’t know,” Jon admitted, his voice rough with worry. “But if Shadow’s here, then Y/N could be closer than we think. Or…” He didn’t finish the thought, unable to voice the darker possibilities that loomed in his mind.

The silence stretched between them as they continued their march, the wolves keeping close to Jon’s side, their presence a constant reminder of the uncertainty that lay ahead. Every step felt heavier, the weight of unspoken fears pressing down on him like the unrelenting cold.

As the night deepened, the world seemed to close in, the darkness swallowing the edges of the wilderness. Jon’s thoughts drifted back to you, to your last conversation in the Godswood, the way your hand had lingered on his, your eyes filled with unshed tears. He couldn’t shake the image of your face, the way you had looked at him as if he were the only thing that mattered.

“What if she’s out here, Jon?” Sam asked softly, his voice trembling with worry. “What if she came looking for you?”

Jon’s heart clenched at the thought, a mixture of hope and fear churning in his gut. “Then I’ll find her,” he said, his voice hardening with resolve. “No matter what it takes.”

The wolves padded silently beside him, their breath fogging the air, and in the darkness, Jon felt the flicker of something stronger than fear—a connection, a bond that reached across miles of frozen land. Whatever brought Shadow here, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. And somehow, deep down, he felt that you were closer than he dared to hope.

“We’ll see what tomorrow brings,” Mormont muttered, breaking the silence as he led the group onward. “Keep your eyes open, lads. This land doesn’t give second chances.”

Jon nodded, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword as they pressed on into the night, the wolves shadowing their every step like sentinels. The cold crept deeper into his bones, but for the first time since he’d left Winterfell, Jon felt a flicker of warmth—a spark of hope, fragile and fierce, guiding him through the darkness.

The cold bite of dawn broke through the dense trees as the Night’s Watch continued their march, the silence of the wilderness giving way to the faintest hints of movement and hushed voices. Jon’s senses sharpened as he caught sight of thin trails of smoke rising just beyond a ridge. He stopped, raising a hand, signaling the others.

“Wildlings,” Jeor Mormont murmured, his eyes narrowing. He motioned for the men to take cover along the rocks and trees, gesturing for silence. The brothers of the Night’s Watch huddled low, moving with practiced caution, their breaths quiet and controlled.

Jon crouched beside Sam, who looked stiff but determined, his gaze focused on the direction of the smoke. Ghost and Shadow were by Jon’s side, their eyes locked ahead, their bodies taut and ready. The camp came into view as they crept closer—a scattering of rough tents made of hide and fur, with Wildlings huddled around fires, muttering in low voices.

And then Jon’s heart stopped.

At the edge of the camp, tied to a wooden post, slumped a figure with a familiar face, your face, pale and drawn, your wrists bound and bloodied. You looked worn, your hair tangled, your clothes torn and dirt-streaked. Shadow, sensing you, gave a low growl, her amber eyes narrowing as she bared her teeth, but Jon quickly reached out, calming her with a gentle touch.

“Y/N,” he whispered, barely able to breathe as he took in the sight of you, alive but clearly worse for wear. Every muscle in his body tensed, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

“Is that…?” Sam’s voice was a hushed whisper, his eyes wide as he looked from you to Jon, realization dawning in his gaze.

Jon nodded, his jaw clenched. “It’s her,” he said quietly, his voice hard with barely restrained fury. “We have to get her out of there.”

Jeor Mormont moved up beside Jon, observing the scene with a calculating gaze. “We don’t have the numbers for a direct assault,” he murmured. “But if we’re careful, we might be able to pull her out quietly.”

Jon’s mind raced, assessing the camp’s layout, noting the positions of the Wildlings scattered around the fires. He could see that most of them were still groggy, barely awake, their attention focused on warming their hands and preparing for the morning. He had a chance—if he could just get close enough to cut you free.

“I’ll go,” Jon said firmly, looking Mormont in the eye. “I know her. She trusts me. I can do this.”

Mormont hesitated, studying Jon for a long moment. Then he nodded, his expression hard. “Be quick and silent. We’ll cover you if anything goes wrong.”

Jon nodded in gratitude, feeling a rush of determination wash over him. He turned to Sam, who looked at him with a mixture of fear and encouragement. “Be careful, Jon,” Sam whispered.

Without another word, Jon slipped forward, Ghost and Shadow moving silently alongside him, their eyes fixed on you. He crept from shadow to shadow, his body low and silent, his heart pounding as he drew closer. Finally, he reached the edge of the camp, crouching behind a cluster of rocks a mere few feet from where you were tied.

He could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, the exhaustion in the way your head slumped forward. His heart ached at the sight of you, at the bruises that marked your skin, the blood that dried at your wrists. Swallowing hard, he moved closer, careful not to make a sound, until he was right beside you.

“Y/N,” he whispered urgently, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “It’s me.”

You flinched at the sound, your eyes fluttering open, hazy with exhaustion and pain. But as you focused on his face, a spark of recognition lit in your gaze, and relief flooded your expression. “Jon,” you breathed, your voice weak but filled with hope.

“I’m here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m getting you out of here.”

A faint smile touched your lips, but worry darkened your gaze. “Jon, they… they took me by surprise. I tried to get away, but…” You shook your head, wincing. “There’s too many of them. You have to be careful.”

Jon nodded, his jaw set with determination. “We’ll get you out,” he assured you. He quickly drew his dagger, positioning himself to cut through the ropes binding your wrists. “Stay as quiet as you can.”

As he worked at the ropes, your gaze softened, and you murmured, “I knew you’d come. I knew… I’d find you out here, somehow.”

Jon’s hand stilled for a fraction of a second, his heart swelling with an indescribable warmth. “I never stopped thinking about you,” he admitted softly, his voice thick with emotion. “When I saw Shadow… I knew something had happened. I couldn’t leave you out here.”

The last rope gave way, and he helped you pull your arms free, wincing as he saw the raw skin beneath. Ghost and Shadow pressed close, nudging you gently, their presence comforting as you steadied yourself, your legs weak but your resolve strong.

“Come on,” Jon whispered, helping you to your feet, supporting your weight as you leaned against him. He cast a quick glance around the camp; the Wildlings were still occupied, but he knew their luck wouldn’t hold for long.

Suddenly, a voice called out in the Wildling tongue, and Jon’s heart lurched as a figure turned, their eyes falling on you and Jon. The alarm rose quickly, shouts echoing across the camp as Wildlings began to grab their weapons, realizing they had an intruder in their midst.

“Run!” Jon urged, tightening his grip on your hand as he pulled you forward, breaking into a sprint as Ghost and Shadow snarled, positioning themselves between you and the oncoming Wildlings.

Mormont’s voice rang out from the trees. “Move, men! Cover them!”

The Night’s Watch brothers leapt from their hiding spots, arrows flying as they formed a defensive line, pushing back the Wildlings who surged forward. Sam and Grenn each took positions beside Jon, their faces set in grim determination as they helped clear a path through the chaos.

You stumbled, nearly falling as your legs struggled to keep up, but Jon was there, his hand steady on your arm, his eyes fierce with protectiveness. “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, his voice strong, guiding you through the snowy terrain.

The wild cacophony of battle surrounded you, but all you could feel was Jon’s presence, his hand holding yours, pulling you forward, his strength keeping you upright as you escaped the chaos of the camp.

As you finally broke through the treeline, away from the Wildlings, Jon slowed, his arm still around you, his breathing heavy. He looked at you, relief flooding his face. “You’re safe now,” he said, his voice a mixture of exhaustion and profound relief.

You managed a small nod, looking up at him, gratitude and affection shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Jon. I knew… I knew you’d find me.”

He pulled you into a quick embrace, his hand resting on the back of your head, his voice a quiet murmur. “I’ll always find you, Y/N.”

The Night’s Watch brothers finally found a sheltered hollow, a quiet space where the wind wasn’t as merciless, and the snow wasn’t piled so high. Jeor Mormont called a halt, giving the men a moment to catch their breath and tend to any wounds they’d earned in the skirmish. As the others busied themselves with tending to their gear and preparing a quick meal, Jon guided you to sit down against a fallen tree trunk, wrapping his cloak around your shoulders to ward off the biting cold.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice laced with worry as he scanned your face, noting the shadows under your eyes and the raw marks on your wrists.

You managed a small smile, reaching up to touch his hand, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours. “I am now, Jon. Thanks to you.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his eyes softening. “When I saw Shadow… I feared the worst,” he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles.

You looked down at your hands, your gaze pensive. “It was foolish of me, I know,” you admitted quietly, your breath clouding the air. “But I had to find you. After you left… I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the last time we spoke.” You looked up, meeting his gaze, a fierceness in your eyes that mirrored his own. “I knew I had to come. I couldn’t let you disappear beyond the Wall, not knowing if you were safe. Not knowing if…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat.

Jon reached out, his fingers brushing your cheek, his touch gentle. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “I would’ve come back to you, you know. Somehow, someway.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his hand, letting his warmth seep into your skin. “I couldn’t take that chance, Jon. I needed to know. I needed to be with you.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, a rare expression of unguarded affection. “You always were stubborn,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on you. “But crossing the Wall, risking everything to find me… You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I’d do it again,” you replied, your tone resolute. “A hundred times if it meant finding you.”

A throat cleared nearby, breaking the intimate moment, and you looked up to see Sam standing a few feet away, his expression a mixture of awe and shyness as he glanced between you and Jon. He gave an awkward, apologetic smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt… I just thought, um, I should introduce myself. I’m Samwell Tarly, Jon’s… friend.”

You smiled warmly, reaching out a hand. “It’s a pleasure, Samwell. Thank you for looking after him.”

Sam flushed, ducking his head as he took your hand. “Oh, well, Jon’s looked after me more times than I can count, actually,” he stammered. “But it’s an honor to meet you, Lady Stark.”

“Just Y/N,” you corrected gently. “Out here, I’m no different from any of you.”

Sam gave a tentative smile, looking as if he might burst with admiration. Before you could say more, Grenn and Pypar wandered over, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

“So, this is the famous Stark sister,” Grenn said with a grin, crossing his arms as he looked you over. “Jon’s told us about you, you know.”

“Nothing but good things, I hope,” you replied with a teasing smile, glancing at Jon, who looked slightly flustered.

Pypar, grinning like a fox, nudged Jon with his elbow. “Oh, only that you’re the stubborn one, the one who won’t listen to reason.” He winked, and Jon shot him a warning look, but there was a warmth in his expression, a kind of ease he rarely allowed himself.

Edd stepped forward, his usual dour expression softened slightly. “If you’re anything like your brother, you’ll find the cold less welcoming than the fireside at Winterfell,” he remarked, giving you a nod.

You chuckled, drawing your cloak closer. “The North teaches you to endure the cold, but this…” You gestured to the frozen expanse around you. “This is something else.”

They all chuckled, the camaraderie easing the tension of the long journey and the battle. Jon watched you with a tender gaze, the sight of you surrounded by his brothers filling him with a quiet pride and warmth. It felt as if a part of home had been returned to him, a piece of himself he hadn’t realized was missing until now.

He reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers. “So tell me,” he asked softly, his voice carrying a note of worry and curiosity, “how did you even manage to cross the Wall?”

You looked at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Let’s just say I’m good at convincing people. I may have… borrowed a favor or two.” You gave a little shrug, though your eyes held a certain steel. “When you’re determined, there’s always a way.”

Jon shook his head, torn between admiration and exasperation. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed his feelings. “I should be furious with you for risking yourself like that.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, leaning closer, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I think you’re glad I’m here.”

He didn’t answer, but his hand tightened around yours, his gaze softening as he looked at you, every unspoken word shining in his eyes. It felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you, a quiet warmth in the heart of the frozen wilderness.

Sam, sensing the moment, gave a small cough and turned to the others. “Maybe we should give them a moment,” he suggested, glancing back at you and Jon with an understanding smile.

The others chuckled and nodded, moving away to give you both some privacy, casting curious glances over their shoulders as they went. When they were out of earshot, Jon turned to you, his face serious.

“Why did you really come, Y/N?” he asked quietly, searching your gaze. “This wasn’t just about checking if I was alright. There’s something more.”

You looked down, your heart pounding. “Because… Jon, I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear the thought of you out here, alone, with no one to care for you. I couldn’t bear to lose you to some duty that will only drive you further away. I thought… if I found you, maybe…” You paused, swallowing, gathering your courage. “Maybe you’d find a reason to come back.”

Jon’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with emotion as he lifted a hand to your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “You’re my reason,” he murmured, his voice thick. “You always have been.”

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Then let’s find our way back,” you whispered, a hint of hope in your voice.

Jon held you close, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice barely more than a breath. “We will, Y/N. Somehow… we will.”

The small band of Night’s Watch brothers pressed onward, moving through the dense woods under Mormont’s command. Jon’s gaze kept straying forward, watching you walk a few paces ahead, deep in conversation with Mormont. Your head was tilted slightly as you listened to the Old Bear, no doubt discussing your father’s legacy. Jon could see the hint of admiration in Mormont’s expression, the way he spoke to you with a respect few outside of the Watch received.

Beside Jon, Sam shuffled closer, casting him a sidelong glance before whispering, “She’s… she’s really something, isn’t she?”

Jon’s lips twitched in a slight smile. “Aye, she is.”

Sam hesitated, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I mean, not just in the usual way. She’s… well, it’s clear you’re… close.” He fumbled over his words, a nervous look darting toward you before his gaze returned to Jon, a little too eager.

Jon’s brows knitted, sensing where Sam’s thoughts were wandering. “We’re close, yes,” he said, his tone defensive but still soft. “She’s my family.”

“Aye, family,” Sam echoed, but there was a note of amusement in his voice. “But it seems to me she’s more than that. More than a sister.”

Jon gave him a hard look, but before he could respond, Grenn, who had been listening nearby, chuckled and nudged Pypar with his elbow. “Did you hear that, Pyp? Our Jon’s got himself a lady from Winterfell.”

Pyp grinned, raising an eyebrow. “More than a sister, eh? Should we start calling her Lady Snow?”

Jon’s cheeks flushed, and he scowled at the two of them. “It’s not like that,” he muttered through gritted teeth, but the faint blush staining his cheeks betrayed him.

Edd joined the group, his usual deadpan expression laced with amusement. “She does look a bit like Robb, though, doesn’t she?” he said dryly, casting Jon a mischievous look. “Makes it a bit strange, doesn’t it? Fancying someone who could pass for your brother’s double.”

Jon’s scowl deepened, his jaw clenched tightly. “It’s not about that,” he said stiffly. “She’s… she’s her own person. You’d know that if you spent half a moment actually talking to her.”

Sam stifled a chuckle, but his eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and genuine curiosity. “But, Jon,” he ventured cautiously, “you have to admit, it is a bit unusual. I mean… not that I’m judging,” he added hastily, “but with the resemblance…”

Jon shot him a dark look. “She’s not Robb, and it’s nothing like that. She’s… She’s different,” he insisted, his voice dropping to a murmur as his gaze drifted forward to where you were still walking, oblivious to the teasing murmurs and sidelong glances behind you.

Edd wasn’t finished, though. With his usual unshakeable deadpan tone, he gave Jon a sidelong look and smirked. “So, did you two… you know,” he asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively, “do it?”

Jon nearly stumbled over his own feet, his face reddening furiously. “Edd!” he hissed, glaring at him with wide eyes, horrified by the audacity. He shook his head vehemently. “No, we did not ‘do it.’ She’s—she’s my sister, for gods’ sakes!” he said, his voice a fierce whisper.

Edd only shrugged, unaffected by Jon’s irritation. “Sister by name, maybe, but you seem to look at her in a way that makes it clear she’s… different. No shame in it, Jon,” he added with a slight grin. “We’ve all seen it. If she’s not just a sister to you, well, that’s your business.”

Jon’s fists clenched at his sides, his patience fraying. He glanced at you, still obliviously walking ahead, engrossed in conversation with Mormont, and took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s not like that. I care about her, but it’s not… I wouldn’t… disrespect her like that,” he muttered, his voice rough with frustration and something else, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit even to himself.

But Sam, emboldened by Edd’s remarks and the spark of mischief that rarely came to him, leaned in with an apologetic smile. “I don’t think Edd means disrespect, Jon. But… it’s plain to see. The way you look at her, it’s different. More than just kin. It’s… well, it’s the way someone looks at a person they love.”

Jon felt his throat tighten, the truth in Sam’s words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. He had always known there was a part of him that saw you as more than family, as something unspoken, a bond he couldn’t define. But admitting it aloud, hearing it from his friends, was something else entirely.

“Look,” Jon said, his voice low and firm, glancing at each of them, “she means everything to me. She’s… part of me, and I would do anything to protect her. But whatever you think you’re seeing, it’s not what you think.”

Grenn raised his hands in surrender, smirking. “Alright, alright, no need to bite our heads off, Jon. Just sayin’. It’s hard to miss how you look at her, that’s all.”

Pyp chuckled, nudging Jon playfully. “No judgment here, Snow. If you want to write to the Old Gods and take her as your lady, we’ll all be here to toast you.”

Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “You lot are impossible,” he muttered, shaking his head, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Just then, you turned around, glancing over your shoulder to see the group of men huddled close, clearly discussing something with amused looks on their faces. You raised an eyebrow, a faint smile on your lips as you called back, “Are you all plotting something back there?”

Jon straightened, trying to school his expression into one of casual innocence. “Just… keeping each other warm,” he replied, his voice more gruff than he intended.

You chuckled, your gaze lingering on him for a moment, your eyes filled with the warmth he had missed more than he would ever say. “Don’t let me interrupt your brotherly bonding, then,” you said lightly, your smile softening as you turned back to Mormont.

The others waited until you were a few steps ahead before Pyp broke into a laugh, clapping Jon on the back. “Brotherly bonding, huh? If only she knew.”

Jon shot him a look, but the smile on his face lingered this time, his heart lighter than it had felt in days.

The attack had come without warning, swift and brutal. Wildlings burst out from the treeline, shrieking battle cries as they closed in on the Night’s Watch party. In the confusion, the brothers had scattered, each fighting to hold their ground amidst the chaos. Swords clashed, arrows flew, and the thick scent of blood filled the cold air.

Jon moved on instinct, his focus narrowed to one goal: keeping you safe. He had seen you knocked to the ground in the initial rush, fighting your way back up as you swung at any Wildling that dared come near. When the line broke, he grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he ducked through the melee, Ghost and Shadow flanking you both, snarling and snapping to hold back any attackers.

“Stay close!” he yelled over the clamor, tightening his grip on your hand.

The world was a blur of flashing steel, shouts, and the red of the setting sun casting an eerie glow over the snow. You clung to Jon, your breaths coming fast as you followed his lead, trusting him implicitly.

“We’re getting separated!” you cried, glancing over your shoulder to see the others scattering, pushing back against the Wildling assault. “Jon, where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here!” he shouted, guiding you toward a narrow path that sloped down into a ravine, its dark mouth hidden by the dense thicket. Ghost and Shadow moved beside you, their hackles raised, eyes fixed on the wild, shifting shadows as you stumbled into the shelter of the ravine.

Once inside, Jon glanced back, his eyes searching the treeline for any sign of the Night’s Watch or the Wildlings, but all he could see was the distant flicker of movement and hear the fading cries of battle.

“Let’s lay low here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he guided you deeper into the ravine, the walls of stone narrowing around you like protective arms. The howling wind above barely touched the sheltered hollow, leaving an eerie, insulated silence.

You slid down onto a flat patch of ground, your breath coming in gasps as you leaned back against the cold stone. Jon sat beside you, his own breathing ragged, his eyes scanning the dim surroundings, ever watchful.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his gaze finally settling on you, a glint of worry softening his usual stern expression.

You shook your head, managing a faint smile despite the exhaustion weighing you down. “I’m alright. Just… a bit shaken.”

Jon nodded, his hand resting on your shoulder in silent reassurance. Ghost and Shadow settled nearby, their keen eyes fixed on the entrance to the ravine, ears twitching at every faint sound. You could feel the warmth of Jon’s hand through your cloak, steady and grounding amidst the turmoil.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and filled with unspoken concern. “I thought I’d lost you back there.”

You looked at him, his face etched with worry, his dark eyes heavy with the weight of what he didn’t say aloud. “You didn’t,” you replied, reaching over to cover his hand with yours. “I’m here, Jon. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze softened as he looked down at your hand resting on his. For a moment, the danger outside the ravine seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you in this small, quiet world. “I know it’s selfish, but… I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you. Not out here, not where I can’t protect you.”

You swallowed, the sincerity in his voice tugging at something deep within you. “Jon, you’re not responsible for me,” you whispered, though part of you felt a fierce comfort in the thought that he wanted to be.

He shook his head, his fingers tightening around yours. “It’s not about responsibility. It’s… I’ve always felt it. Like you’re a part of me, and if I lost you…” His voice broke off, his gaze falling as he struggled to find the words.

You took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a blanket, warm and overwhelming. “I feel the same,” you admitted softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “That’s why I came here, Jon. To be with you. To make sure you’re safe. Because I can’t bear the thought of you out here, alone.”

The silence hung between you, heavy with meaning, each unspoken word more powerful than anything you could say aloud. Jon’s gaze met yours, his eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

Before either of you could speak again, a low growl rumbled from Ghost. Jon turned, instantly alert, his hand instinctively going to his sword as he scanned the entrance of the ravine. But nothing appeared—only the shifting shadows and the faint whistle of the wind above.

“Looks like we’ll be safe here for a while,” he murmured, his posture relaxing slightly as he looked back at you.

You nodded, pulling your cloak tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. “This place feels like a world away from everything,” you murmured, glancing around at the stone walls towering above, the narrow slice of sky visible through the crack in the rock. “It’s almost… peaceful.”

Jon smiled faintly, his hand drifting to your shoulder as he leaned closer, his voice soft. “Then maybe it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

You settled against him, the warmth of his presence easing the lingering tremors in your body. For the first time since crossing the Wall, you felt a semblance of safety, cradled in the shelter of the ravine with Jon beside you, Ghost and Shadow keeping watch.

Jon’s hand found yours again, his fingers weaving through yours, and he let out a quiet sigh. “Maybe we can rest here for a while. Just… be here. With you.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your heart swelling with a warmth that defied the cold of the Northern wilderness. “I’d like that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into him, letting yourself savor this rare moment of peace.

In the stillness of the ravine, surrounded by stone and shadows, the world outside felt like a distant memory, leaving just the two of you, together, in a place that felt like home.

As night settled over the ravine, the cold intensified, creeping through even the thickest layers of fur and leather. The two of you huddled together beneath Jon’s cloak, your bodies pressed close to share warmth, while Ghost and Shadow stood vigilant at the mouth of the narrow shelter, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

Jon’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him, his breath warming your cheek. His presence was steady, calming, grounding you in a way that made the frigid air and harsh wilderness feel like a distant threat, something beyond the safe bubble you shared with him. You felt his heartbeat, strong and steady, as he kept you close, his touch gentle but possessive.

After a long silence, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a softness he reserved only for you. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing along your shoulder. “Just… having you close, feeling like we’re the only two people in the world.”

You looked up at him, catching the intensity in his gaze, and a warmth bloomed in your chest, spreading outward, filling every corner of you. “I missed it, too,” you whispered, your hand drifting up to rest on his chest, feeling the strength beneath the fabric, the warmth of him seeping into your fingertips. “Out here, it feels like nothing else matters. Like it’s just us.”

Jon’s gaze softened, his fingers tracing a line along your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “It is just us,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your lips, lingering there as if memorizing the shape of your mouth. “Here, there’s no one else… no duties, no vows. Just you and me.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and full of meaning. You felt a flutter in your chest as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and for a moment, the world outside faded entirely, leaving only the two of you in the intimacy of that shared space.

Slowly, his lips met yours, tentative at first, then deepening as he felt you respond, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The kiss grew more intense, a release of every unspoken word, every lingering glance, every hidden feeling that had been building between you. His fingers tangled in your hair, his other hand moving to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

Your breaths quickened as you melted into him, letting go of the worries, the fears, the doubts that had haunted you. Here, in his arms, everything felt right, natural, as if you had been waiting for this moment all your life.

He broke the kiss, his forehead still pressed against yours as he looked at you, his eyes dark with emotion, his voice low and rough. “I don’t want this to end,” he whispered, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. “I want to stay here… with you. Forever, if I could.”

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing over his cheek, feeling the roughness of his skin, the warmth beneath it. “Forever is a very long time, Jon,” you murmured, a hint of playful affection in your tone.

He chuckled, his smile softening as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Then let it be as long as it wants to be. As long as I have you, I don’t care.”

The weight of his words settled over you, filling you with a warmth that chased away the last remnants of cold. You pulled him down, your lips finding his again, and this time there was no hesitation, no holding back. The night stretched on as you surrendered to the intensity of his touch, each caress a promise, each kiss a declaration.

When you finally lay together, wrapped in his arms beneath the cloak, the aftermath of your shared passion lingering like a quiet warmth, Jon held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “I mean it,” he whispered, his voice soft but firm. “I want to be with you. I want this… forever.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes, a smile playing on your lips. “Then forever it is,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss him one last time, sealing the promise as the two of you drifted into a peaceful slumber, safe and together beneath the stars.

The early morning light filtered down through the trees, casting a muted glow over the ravine as you and Jon stirred, tangled together beneath his cloak. The warmth of his body beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, grounded you in a way that made you wish the moment could last forever. But the world around you began to wake, a reminder that reality was waiting, and you would have to step back into it soon.

Ghost’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head, alert, his red eyes fixed on the approaching figures at the mouth of the ravine. Moments later, Mormont and the others emerged from the trees, their footsteps crunching through the snow. Mormont’s keen gaze settled on you and Jon, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of you both huddled close, still wrapped in the cloak.

“There you are,” Mormont said, his tone brisk as he scanned the area. “We lost sight of you two during the skirmish. Thought we might have lost you.”

Jon shifted beside you, pulling away slightly, though his hand lingered on yours for just a heartbeat longer. “We took cover here, Lord Commander,” he explained, his voice steady as he rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. “It was… safer to wait for the attack to end.”

Mormont’s gaze flicked between you and Jon, his eyes lingering a bit longer on the closeness you’d shared, but he only nodded, his tone gruff as ever. “Good thinking. You’ve both made it through, and that’s what matters.”

Sam, Grenn, and Pypar exchanged glances, their eyes alight with curiosity, though they wisely kept their questions to themselves. Jon glanced over at you, catching your eye, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, a quiet understanding passing between you, a silent acknowledgment of the night you had shared.

As the group began to move out of the ravine, Sam fell into step beside Jon, casting him a sidelong glance, his cheeks slightly pink. He hesitated, glancing at the others to make sure they were out of earshot before he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… Jon,” he ventured, his tone both hesitant and eager, “how… how was it?”

Jon stiffened, his expression tightening as he shot Sam a look. “Sam, don’t,” he muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “It’s… it’s not something we should be talking about.”

But Sam’s curiosity wouldn’t be so easily deflected. He offered Jon an encouraging, almost conspiratorial smile. “Come on, Jon,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ve… I’ve never known someone who… well, who had something like that. It’s just… well, I’m curious.”

Jon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. But he knew Sam meant no harm, and the eagerness in his friend’s face was difficult to resist. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in slightly, his voice low and reluctant. “It was… more than I ever imagined, Sam,” he admitted, his gaze flicking forward to where you walked. “Being with her, it felt… like it was meant to be.”

Sam’s eyes widened, his expression a mixture of awe and excitement. “Jon, that’s… that’s wonderful,” he murmured, his tone almost reverent. “But… you know, the others… they might not understand. Mormont especially…”

Jon nodded, his expression hardening slightly as he considered the implications. “I know. Which is why I need you to keep it between us, Sam. It’s… it’s private, and it’s something that I don’t want the others to know about.”

Sam’s face grew serious, and he nodded solemnly. “Of course, Jon. I promise. I’ll keep your secret safe.”

Jon offered him a small, grateful smile, a sense of relief washing over him. “Thank you, Sam,” he said softly. “I appreciate it.”

As they walked on in silence, Jon’s gaze drifted back to you. You glanced over your shoulder, catching his eye, and a soft smile touched your lips, a silent communication that only the two of you could understand. It was a fleeting moment, but it held a world of meaning, a promise that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

With Sam beside him and you up ahead, Jon felt a rare sense of peace settle over him, the weight of his secret shared, his heart lightened by the presence of those he held closest. For the first time since joining the Night’s Watch, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility of happiness, however fleeting it might be.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ║ ❝𝐖𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐚 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧❞

(A/n) ➳ Started watching Hazbin Hotel again, gotta say, it’s a good show. I was hoping to get to the next chapter sooner. I thank you guys for being patient, I seriously had a massive writer’s block.

Word Count ➳ 1.7k

Content Warnings ➳ Swearing, light sexual content, mentions of anger issues, mentions of abuse, mention of unrequited love, mentions of marriages, alcohol use, mentions of criminal investigation…

JUDAS Masterlist

“DON’T YOU MEAN THAT SHIT DINER?”

You let out a playful scoff, acting offended. “Well excuse you Daryl, The Golden Bite is an amazing diner!” You spoke to him over the phone.

That’s when your coworker, Annie came walking with a plate in hand that had a half eaten burger. “Still tastes like cardboard.” She sang as she headed back to the kitchen.

“Annie-”

“Still not gettin’ it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Gonna come and say it to my face?” You flinched at the loud voices coming from the kitchen, Annie was once again arguing with the cooks.

You don’t blame her, the cooks the manager hired are shit and so is the quality of the food. It’s a shock that this place hadn’t been shut down yet.

You heard Daryl laugh and the infamous sound of his motorcycle. “I still wanna live another day and get another taste, still thinkin’ of ya.”

Your face immediately became hot, you thought you would break your phone with how tight you were clutching it.

“Daryl!” You harshly whispered.

“I’m an honest man and I’m honest when I say, I wanna bend you over my bike again.”

“I’m at work!”

“That ain’t gonna stop me.”

Annie poked her head around the corner. “Oh yeah, Meredith said that the sheriff wants you. Ain’t taking anybody else.” She disappeared before you could retort.

“That’s my cue.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Judas.” You set your phone in your pocket and looked over your shoulder for a quick glance, right by the window.

Shane sat at the table, looking over the menu as if he hadn’t been here for the hundredth time. You snapped your head back at the coffee machine the second his eyes drifted away from the menu.

You were still reeling from the conversation you had with him before, the two of you hadn’t talked, texted, or called each other. He didn’t stop by whenever he was in the neighborhood, did he feel guilty?

You walked to his table with a pen and notepad in hand. “Hey, Shane, what can I get you?”

“Just the special and a large coffee, nothin’ in it.”

“I’ll get that-”

“Can you give me a minute?” Shane interrupted you.

You looked up from your notepad and lifted an eyebrow. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Jus’ sit, I won’t be long.”

You sighed. “If I get busted, it’s gonna be on your head, Walsh. I need this job.”

Shane chuckled. “You could always become a stay at home wife.”

You scoffed, clicking your pen. “Yeah? Who the hell’s gonna deal with my bullshit?”

“Me as your husband.”

Your heart sank into your stomach. “What?” You needed to bite this in the bud, like Amy said. “Look Shane, I don’t think-”

“You say that but what ‘bout later? Down the line? What happens when the jackass becomes borin’? Or worse? Hurts you?”

You could only shake your head in disbelief, Daryl was many things. He’s wild, secretive, and could be distant at times but he would never hurt you.

“Seriously? Do you really think that low of Daryl?! You don’t even know him.”

“Do you even know him?”

“That’s-”

“Do you know where the guy lives or any idea what he does for a livin’?” Shane then grabbed your wrist to pull you closer, his hot breath hitting your face. “I know you, (Y/n). I know that you like to chase after people who ain’t good for you and you know it! He’s one of them. And I know you’re better and safer with me.”

“I don’t-!”

“Pardon me!” Annie made you both jump back, Shane releasing his tightening grip. “Are you lovebirds done arguing?”

“Annie-!”

“Because we would like you to keep the volume down or take it outside.” Annie cut you off before you could even explain. “Or you can get back to work and not lose this job.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, scurrying off to the kitchen.

Annie’s eyes turned to Shane who she glared at. “You ain’t good for her. Not even close.” She turned on her heel and followed you.

She found you in the break room, rubbing your arms and taking deep breaths. She could see it in your eyes, the slight anger.

“Need me to ask Miguel to toss that guy out?” Annie placed a hand on your shoulder.

“No, no.” You waved her off, your hands now fidgeting with your fingers. “I don’t know what that was.”

“That was a glimpse of an asshole.” Annie explained. “And a jealous one from what I heard, no ‘mout of therapy can fix that man.”

“You could never know-”

“I know ‘em (Y/n).”

“He’s probably cooled off by now.” You took one final deep breath. “I’m jus’ gonna hear what else he gotta say then I’m done, I’m out of here.”

“Workin’ or him?”

“Most likely both.”

Meredith peered into the break room. “Think she’s gonna reject him?”

Annie shook her head, her hands on her hips as she took a couple steps out the break room, seeing you sit back down with Shane. “The girl loves thrill and danger. Safety is never in her handbook.”

“Worried for ‘er?”

“I’m scared shitless.”

“Look, (Y/n) I know I ain’t your type of guy. But it could all change.” Shane explained.

“I ain’t got time for this, I ain’t got time for whatever you’re dreamin’ of. It’s all it is, a dream.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do.” You retracted your hand when he went for it, speaking as sternly as you could without drawing the attention of customers. “And if you understand, you would stop askin’ ‘bout this guy.”

“I’ll understand when I get the chance to show you that a life with me is a safer choice than whatever you have with that guy.”

You groaned, was he really going to do this to himself? “You would rather be in a loveless marriage?”

“It ain’t gonna be loveless. What I’m askin’ you to do is to go out with me.”

“HE SAID WHAT?!” Andrea snatched the pillow that hid your frustrated expression, she threw it behind her and asked the same question again, even louder if possible.

“You heard me.” You mumbled.

You didn’t know how to feel other than uncomfortable. The lump in your throat didn’t want to leave, making you feel bothered.

“What did you say?!”

“Didn’t say anythin’, told me to think ‘bout it.”

“Dammit (Y/n)!”

“I know!” You stopped her before she could scold you. “I know I should’ve said no!”

“But you gotta admit, he’s gotta be loaded with cash.”

“...He kinda is.”

“S-Seriously?”

You nodded, you grabbed another pillow to squeeze at, trying to sooth yourself. “There would be times where Shane would pay for my expenses, like rent and water.”

“Oh he’s serious ‘bout you.”

“That’s the sad part. Even if things didn’t work out with Daryl, I don’t want Shane to be a second option jus’ ‘cause I couldn’t have Daryl or it becomes borin’. I wanna be sure that if I choose Shane, it’s gotta be true.”

You jumped at the sound of the wine bottle being popped open, you stared at Andrea as she poured you a rather large glass of wine.

“Then go see Shane.”

“Y’know I can’t-”

“See Shane and see how you feel. If nothin’ changes or worse comes to worst, you feel repulsed, then tell ‘im. You can continue to see Daryl with Shane hanging over your head.”

Andrea pushed the glass into your hands. “And what if it doesn’t? What if I end up fallin’ for him?”

“Then you could lose a man you love or a man who’s only sticking ‘round when he needs you to blow or fuck.”

“Daryl doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Then that’s worse, choosing between two guys is a fuckin’ nightmare.”

‘Im on my way’

You read the text again from Shane, silently hoping all of this was just a dream and you never heard Shane asking you out.

You shut your phone and stared into the mirror, you sighed, taking your tenth pair of earrings off. You were annoyed with yourself, how hard was it to say no? Especially to Shane?

The knocking on your door made you annoyed even more, you weren’t in the mood for a guest but it dropped when you saw Carl with Rick… Carl with Rick.

You opened your door. “Hey Rick.” Then you turn to the boy. “Carl!”

Carl quickly wrapped his arms around you, nearly knocking you down. You could never stay mad at the boy.

Rick stepped in and closed your door. “I’m callin’ in a favor.”

“Shoot.” You said, managing to get his arms off to get him a little snack.

“Lori’s mom canceled on us and I know your workin’ tomorrow. I was hopin’ if you could look after Carl after your shift. Jus’ for a couple hours.”

“It’s no problem, you know I don’t mind takin’ care of your rascal.”

“Hey!” His shout made you stick out your tongue at him playfully.

“So… What’s gotcha all dolled up? Goin’ out with that guy?”

“What guy-? How did you know I was talkin’ to someone?” Rick fumbled over his words. “Grimes.”

“Shane, he was worried ‘bout you.”

“Jeez, y’know I can take care of myself.”

“Said that last time, remember what happened?”

You rolled your eyes. “It was once.”

“Three times, three guys who broke your heart.”

“It was nothin’. They were nothin’. They jus’ broke up with me, nothin’ crazy.”

“You say that now but what if it’s different?” Rick pulled you away from Carl and whispered. “What if he has a criminal record or is involved in some deep shit?”

“I can find that out.”

“And so can I but quicker, jus’ give me a name.”

“I ain’t gonna give you shit, Grimes.” You walked back to Carl. Your smile came back as you watched Carl become happy when you let him get some more.

Rick wanted to get it out of you, but if he couldn’t get it out of you, surely Carl could.

You could never say no to him.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien ,

⊰ Chapter 3 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 5 ⊰

[darlingsfandom]

Hi, can you please please write about y/n being closer to Cillian's age and used to date him before Cillian became famous. So they drifted apart and now almost 10 years later Cillian is married to someone else (Preferably an actress for this shot) but one day met y/n (she is married too now btw) and now they both can't stop thinking about each other? Then you can think the rest ig.... like illicit affair or something like that....

Btw I love your writing! I always look forward to reading them <3

I sure can!

TW: cheating, p in v unwrapped , not proofread.

They always say that when two people are destined to be together that will always find their way back to each other and in this case it was true.

Twelve years ago you had said goodbye to Cillian because things weren’t working out the way the two of you had planned and it broke your heart to let him go but you didn’t want to be selfish. He had promised to find you again someday. Days turned weeks, weeks turned to months and months turned to years and you never found him again. You had to move on no matter how hard it was. Eventually you found a man who was a big time producer on the set of a movie you stared in and the rest was history.

Now in the present day you’ve done some guest starring on tv shows while your husband worked on some big hit movies!

“Babe! You’re not going to believe who we got to co-Star with you in the new movie.” Your husband was excited as a kid on Christmas.

“Who’s going to be my leading man?” You laughed a little as he bounced on his feet.

“We got Cillian Murphy !” His smile went big as your heart broke in half. It was written on your face. “I thought you’d be a little more excited! Yes a huge star! Just did Oppenheimer !”

“No no I’m excited just hard to believe.” You waved your hand trying to dismiss your hard feelings. Your husband never knew that you had once been with Cillian many moons ago and now was not the time to mention it.

“Maybe it will excite you more that his wife is going to be in the movie as well! Just a small role but still!” Your heart sank even further. You knew he was married and married another actress who had similar features to you but now it was on your home , it was too close for comfort but you swallowed that bitter pill to make your husband happy.

The morning came to start shooting and all you wanted to do was hide. You sat in your trailer wrapped in a blanket sulking in your pity. A small knock came on your trailer door.

“Go away!” You yelled but the door opened away. You rolled your eyes. “I said go…” your words froze up as you seen him standing there. Cillian was two feet away from you with his hand in his pocket looking at you.

“I did that a long time ago…” he spoke up making you stand up and fight back your tears. Neither of you said a word but he could feel the sadness radiating off of you. “And don’t think I regret it.”

“I left because you wanted different things than I did. You got to go and become the star that you’ve always wanted. Everyone adores you! You got older and more attractive ! Meanwhile my own husband adores you more than he does me!” Your eyes swelled up as you turned your hands into fist.

“I took this role because it meant for the first time in twelve years that I’d be with you again! The script was poorly written, the plot makes no sense well some of it does but still ! I took it to see you again!” Cillian stepped closer to you making you step back until your back was against the wall.

“What about your wife hmm?”

“The blood sucking gold digger who can only do butter commercials and begged me to beg the producer who happens to be your husband to be in it? You think I’m happy with her now? No! I’m not!”

“Then why’d you marry her?”

“Because she looks like you! She’s a cheap version of you!” Cillian cupped your face and made you look in his eyes. He had genuine emotion swirling around in the them and you wanted to kiss him so much it ached but you couldn’t. You pressed your face into the side of his neck while he tightly wrapped his arms around your back. He smelled of leather and sandalwood which you inhaled deeply while he drew circles on your back with his thumbs. This was home, this was comfort and safety , this is what your life was missing.

“After this movie I want you to run away with me! We can go anywhere we want! Just us.” He spoke in a way that made you look up at him with soft eyes.

“I can’t just leave my husband … well actually I could, bastards been cheating on me for the last few months.”

“Then why are you still with him?” Cillian furrowed his eyebrows together. “You’re a smart girl, you don’t deserve a man like that.”

A knock on the door made you jump. Neither of you were doing anything wrong.

“Are you two ready? We’re ready to start shooting.” Came from the other side and he grabbed your hand to take you to the set. It was just the beginning.

Four months of filming had passed and each day Cillian and you grew closer. It was as if he never broke your heart to begin with. Some nights it was just you and him running lines together while other nights he reminded you how good he was in bed.

“This is wrong!” You huffed as he bent you the dressing room table and shoved his cock deep inside of you.

“Ya love it ya fucking slut!” Cillian made you look in the mirror as he started thrusting into you.

“Fuck yes Cillian! Give it to me!” You spat through gritted teeth. Cillian watched you in the mirror as he fucked you hard in the dressing room while getting ready to shoot the next scene which ironically enough was a sex scene.

“That’s my girl , fuck!” He held onto you tightly. This was just a quickie to get the two of you through the day. It wasn’t unusual for a quickie to happen on set or in a trailer because now that the two of you were rejoined it was hard to separate you two. Your husband never questioned all the closeness because he didn’t really care, he was doing his own cheating but he didn’t think you were. As far as Cillians wife knew the two of you had nothing going on. She was busy using the casting couch to try to get another role somewhere but her luck wasn’t that good.

Six months had now passed and filming was wrapping up. Press tour had started which meant hotel rooms, lots of questions and soon enough your divorce looming around the corner.

“Cillian?” You peeped up as the two of you laid in bed together naked.

“Yes darlin?” He ran his hand over your arm.

“Do you still really want to run away with me?” You turned on your side.

“Of course I do! I’ve lost you once, I’m not going to do that again. Plus… I should’ve told you this awhile ago but have you noticed that I’m not wearing my ring anymore?” He held up his hand and it was indeed empty.

“What did you do with it?”

“I gave it back to her, she yelled , broke a few things around the house and that was after I gave her the papers.”

“You’re already getting divorced !” You shot up quickly holding the blanket over your naked breasts.

“Baby, I’m already divorced. When we rekindled the first day of shooting I went out and got things into motion. Why do you think she hasn’t been on the press tour?” Cillian looked up at you with loving eyes as his hands ran over your thigh.

A silence fell over the room as the two of you cuddled back up and shared a kiss that quickly got heated. His hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled them over his lap to help you straddle his lap.

“Need you now!” You mumbled against his lips. Cillian lifted your hips a little bit so he could adjust his cock and help you down on it.

“Fuck! Yer so warm baby.” Cillian moaned as you pushed back on his cock. You place your hands on his warm bare chest to steady yourself and rode his cock slowly. The way you moved your hips was hypnotic to him. You rode him in a way he’s never had and he loved it. It wasn’t long before your hormones took over and made you excited.

“Oh fuck yeah! Dats my girl!” He gasped out as you started bouncing on his cock faster which made your tits giggle and he was in love all over again. He always admired your tits and they’ve only gotten better with your age. He watched how your mouth hung open letting out the cutest moans he’s ever heard as you bounced yourself harder on his cock making you cry out.

“I’m gonna cum Cillian ! Fuck!” You reached down to rub your clit as best as you could while slowing down on his cock but he didn’t care. He loved the view of you touching yourself.

“Cum on baby! Cum for me be a good girl! OH! That’s a good girl! Yes cum on my cock!” He encouraged as you squirted against his cock soaking him and the sheets. You shook hard before collapsing against his chest. “Shh it’s okay baby, I got ya.” He kissed your forehead gently as you panted against his chest.

This was what you’ve missed , what you needed all these years of just accepting what you thought you deserved but time was finally on your side and lead you back to the person you loved the most.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Power: a Bloodline x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 7: Joe..

Joshua, Joe, Jonathan, and Joseph all sat together on the main deck, the warmth of the evening air mixing with the cool breeze from the ocean. The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a serene glow over the water. The four men talked among themselves, their voices low and comfortable as they sipped their drinks, the occasional laugh cutting through the soft hum of the night.

Suddenly, the sound of the sliding door opening interrupted their conversation, and they all turned in unison. Demi stepped out onto the deck, her presence immediately commanding attention. She was dressed in a simple yet alluring black camisole tank top paired with denim cut-off shorts. The soft glow of the fading sunset highlighted her fair skin, and the anklet and necklace she wore caught the light, the subtle gleam of the jewelry making her even more captivating.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The men watched as Demi walked toward them, her movements confident, yet there was a certain hesitance in her steps, as if she was still figuring out her place in this newfound dynamic. She reached Joshua’s side and without a word, took a seat next to him, her body language still holding a level of caution.

Joe was the first to speak, breaking the quiet tension in the air. His voice was warm, but there was an undercurrent of hope in it, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction.

“Glad to see you joining us, Demi,” he said, offering her a small but genuine smile.

Jonathan, sitting next to Joe, took a sip of his drink and added, “You look good. Glad you came out.”

Demi offered them both a faint smile but said nothing at first. Her eyes flickered between the four men, each of them looking at her with varying degrees of expectation, some more subtle than others. She let out a slow breath, the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore providing a quiet backdrop to the stillness.

Joshua leaned slightly toward her, a slight smile on his lips. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice only audible for Demi to hear.

Demi looked at him, meeting his gaze for a moment before answering, her voice quiet but steady. “I’m not sure yet. I just… needed some time to think,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the horizon, her mind still working through everything that had happened.

Joseph and Jonathan exchanged glances but said nothing, allowing her the space to process her emotions. The atmosphere on the deck was comfortable, the tension from earlier replaced with an unspoken understanding. They all knew the journey ahead would be complicated, but for now, they were content to sit together, each of them processing things in their own way.

Demi shifted slightly in her seat, her legs tucked underneath her. As the sky grew darker, the stars slowly began to emerge, twinkling above like distant promises. There was a sense of peace in the air, but beneath it all, the quiet hum of uncertainty lingered.

After a long pause, Demi finally spoke again, her voice steady but unsure.

“I don’t know where this is going… or what I really want yet,” she said, her eyes scanning the faces of the men sitting around her. “But I’m here, at least. I’m not running away.”

Joe looked at her, his expression soft but intense. “We never wanted you to run away, Demi. We just wanted you to be with us, to let us show you what we can offer.”

Demi didn’t respond immediately, her thoughts swirling. The men were patient, waiting for her to find her words. But in that moment, all she could do was look out over the water, trying to make sense of everything.

As Joshua offered to grab her a drink, Demi shook her head. “I actually could get it myself,” she said, standing up and heading back inside. The tension between her and the group outside was palpable, leaving her uncertain if she was making things harder for herself—or just hard in general.

The cool air inside the beach house greeted her as she walked toward the kitchen. She opened the fridge, staring at its contents for a moment before mumbling, “I guess a sandwich it is.” Pulling out ham and cheese, she began rummaging through the cabinets until she finally found a loaf of bread.

As she assembled her sandwich, the sound of the sliding door opening behind her made her freeze. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Joe’s deep voice broke the silence. “I could make you something,” he offered.

Demi glanced over her shoulder briefly, then focused on cutting her sandwich in half. “The sandwich is fine,” she said, taking a small bite.

Joe sighed softly, leaning against the counter. “How about this? Watch a movie. Paint, draw… do something to clear your mind,” he said, his tone unusually gentle. “And when you’re ready to sleep again, come lay with me.”

Her chewing slowed, and she glanced at him. His eyes held an earnestness she wasn’t expecting, a glimpse of the man she’d once been so deeply entangled with before things became so complicated.

“Just think about it,” Joe added, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the counter. Without waiting for her response, he walked back out to the main deck, where Joshua, Jonathan, and Joseph were still seated under the night sky.

Demi sighed, staring down at her half-eaten sandwich. Do something. His words echoed in her mind. She didn’t know what she wanted to do—or what she even could do.

After finishing her sandwich, Demi walked back to her room, the silence of the house wrapping around her like a heavy blanket. She closed the door behind her, exhaling deeply as she peeled off her shorts and replaced them with a pair of soft, gray joggers. She left her camisole on, feeling comfortable enough to keep things casual. She went to the curtains where she adjusted them to let some moonlighting in.

Grabbing the remote, she climbed into bed, tugging the covers up to her chest. Her fingers moved idly over the buttons as she scrolled through the movie options, her mind barely focused on the titles. Then one caught her eye—365 Days.

“Hm, looks interesting,” she muttered to herself, selecting it.

As the movie began, Demi leaned back against the pillows, her initial intrigue fading as her mind began to drift. The scenes on the screen blurred as her thoughts wandered to Joe—not Joe as he was now, but the Joe she had once known.

Before the dynamic.

Before the intensity, the push and pull, the lines blurred beyond recognition. She thought about the simpler moments, when his smile felt like warmth on a cold day, when his touch felt like safety rather than possession. Back when he looked at her like she was his equal, not just his.

Demi’s gaze shifted to the window, where the faint sounds of laughter from the main deck filtered through the air. She wondered how they could still laugh, still bond, after everything that had happened. She didn’t understand how they could compartmentalize so easily while she carried the weight of it all like an anchor tied to her chest.

Her fingers gripped the remote tighter, pausing the movie mid-scene. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, willing herself to let go of the memories, even if just for tonight. But no matter how hard she tried, Joe’s words echoed in her mind: “When you’re ready to sleep again, come lay with me.”

Why did his voice still have that effect on her? Why did the thought of him waiting for her—even now—make her chest tighten and her resolve falter?

Demi shook her head, pressing play again. She needed to focus on the movie, not on the man who seemed to have an unyielding grip on her soul. But as the scene played out, filled with passion and tension, she couldn’t help but feel like the movie was mirroring parts of her own life—parts she wasn’t ready to confront.

Demi watched with keen interest as the movie unfolded. The character Laura lay sprawled on her bed, her hand buried deep in her underwear, the vibrator shoved deep inside of her, the scene switched as Massimo fucked the flight attendants mouth with his cock. Demi felt a familiar warmth spreading between her legs as she watched the woman writhe in pleasure. She thought back to the times when Joe had taken control of their intimate moments together.

“Take it take it take it..”

“Yes please….”

As the scene unfolded and her own memories unraveled in her brain, Demi's hand drifted down to her gray joggers, and she slipped it inside her underwear. She began to rub herself gently, her mind continuously being filled with memories of Joe fucking her from behind. But then she started thinking about Jonathan punishing her..

“You’ve been a bad slave Demi.. and now you must be punished..”

The memory of Jonathan inserting the bullet into her, her own wetness seeping into the sheets. Her rubbing increased, the pleasure starting to rise. Her mind started to drift to Joseph teaching her the importance of begging.. and right now, due to her mind full of lust, she wouldn’t have minded Joseph making her beg for his dick..

“There it is. That’s the desperation I wanted to hear. I’m proud of you, Demi.”

Joseph being proud of Demi turned her on more as she bit her lip, her free hand went to her breast as she flicked her nipple. She let out a moan as her back arched, inserting her own two fingers. She started to thrust in and out and she spread her legs wider to give herself more access.

“I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you..”

Eat my pussy Josh.. she thought, Fuck me until I roll my eyes backwards Joseph… she thought again as her thrusting increased. Spank me until my ass is red, Jon… she thought more as her body withered in the soft sheets. Make me take your dick, Joe.. her moans growing louder as she thought about all four men.

Demi's fingers moved faster as she thought about being shared between all of them for the rest of her life. She knew they all wanted her, and now… in her hazy mind, she wanted them all. Demi's fingers moved faster as she thought about all of their dynamics. She moaned Joseph’s name as she envisioned herself begging for his attention. She moaned Joshua's name as she pictured Joshua going down on her for hours. She moaned Jonathan's name as she felt herself getting spanked again. And finally.. she moaned Joe's name as she felt herself cumming on her fingers. Demi opened her eyes as she attempted to regain her breathing and put it at a normal rate.

Unbeknownst to her, the whole entire scene had been viewed by the four men because of the angle into Demi’s room.

—

All four men sat in a tense silence on the main deck, their conversation halting as their attention shifted through the open curtains of Demi’s room. The soft glow of her bedside lamp illuminated her as her chest rose, attempting to breathe.

“She really is a beautiful soul,” Joshua said softly, his voice breaking the stillness. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on her as if she might vanish if he looked away.

Jonathan smirked slightly, “Did you see the way—” Joseph cut him off sharply. “We all saw it.” His tone carried an edge of impatience, though not directed at any of them. It was frustration laced with a hint of protectiveness. “It’s Joe’s turn tonight.”

Joe exhaled heavily, rubbing his hand across his jawline. “For this week.. Vanilla is the only dynamic allowed.” he said, almost to himself. “We pushed too far, too fast last time. If we’re not careful, she’ll close herself off completely.”

“I don’t know if I can do vanilla again..” Jonathan said.

Joe’s lips tightened into a thin line. He glanced toward Demi’s room, watching her finally rise up and fidget with the remote before settling back against the pillows. “We don’t have a choice,” he said firmly. “If we try to force her again, we’ll lose her. And I’m not willing to let that happen.”

Joshua shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not just about losing her, though, is it? It’s about making her see that we’re the ones who can give her what she’s searching for—stability, trust, love.”

“Love?” Joseph repeated, his eyebrows raised slightly. “You sure she’s looking for that? Because if she is, we might’ve scared her away from it already.”

Joe shot him a warning look. “She’s here, isn’t she? That means there’s still a chance.”

The group fell into silence again, their gazes flickering between each other and the glowing window of Demi’s room. For the first time, the air between them felt heavy, filled with unspoken tension. None of them wanted to admit how deeply she had impacted their lives—or how much of their power she’d unknowingly taken from them.

—

Demi, who was feeling herself getting sleepy, couldn’t help but think about what Joe had said earlier, “And when you’re ready to sleep again, come lay with me..”

Demi’s thoughts about Joe were a conflict of past love and present confusion. Before the dynamic, their relationship had been a dream—Joe was her safe haven, attentive and loving, making her feel seen and cherished. But now, everything had shifted.

His possessiveness had grown into something darker, entwining love with control. She hated how much he still affected her, how his presence tugged at her despite her anger. Moments like the softness in his eyes earlier reminded her of the man she fell for, but the weight of his current demands left her questioning if she could ever trust him again.

But now.. she thought she could give it one more try?

She took off her gray joggers and only kept her black underwear and black camisole on. She opened the door to her room and left it. She found Joe’s room and she opened the door and stepped in. She saw him sleeping already and she closed the door.

Demi’s mind drifted to the good times with Joe, moments that once made her heart race with joy. She remembered his laugh, deep and contagious, and how he’d hold her close after a long day, whispering sweet reassurances that made her feel invincible.

Joe awoke at the sudden shift in the bed and he smiled when saw Demi. He leaned into kiss her softly and Demi melted in the kiss. His strong arms pulled her on top of him. Demi broke the kiss to pull off her camisole, revealing her breasts. Demi went back to kissing Joe and this time he breaks the kiss and says, “I saw you earlier.”

Demi stopped and said, “What do you mean?”

“I saw you rubbing yourself..” Joe said, omitting that the other men also saw her.

“Did they see too?” Demi asked, her curiosity flaring.

“Did you want them too?” He asked.

“Yes..” She finally admits.

Joe kisses her and he flips them over to the missionary position. He tears apart her underwear and positions himself at her entrance, he doesn’t need to lube her up for obvious reasons. After testing the waters to see how tight she is, he finally slides into her. Joe started to thrust into her slowly, pulling out and sliding back into her. Demi could feel her pussy tightening around his dick.

“I haven’t felt you.. in so long..” Joe struggles to say as he fucks her. Demi is loving every second of it, the two, past and now present lovers, fucking, enjoying the feel are the warmth they were both sharing.

Demi let out a loud moan, her back arching off the bed. Joe set a steady pace, thrusting in and out of her with precision. Each thrust hit her G-spot, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Before the dynamics, it was rare Joe would fuck her missionary. He normally opted for doggy or reverse cowgirl, any position really to see her ass. But now, she felt everything shift, she essentially was not complaining about it. Her feelings for Joe were still there, after all, even though she never admitted it, she was a virgin when Joe met her.

Demi gasped once more as she felt him slide into her but this time it was different, he was now filling her completely. They moved together in a perfect rhythm, their bodies melding together as he continued to thrust deep and hard.

You see, to Demi, being a virgin at 28 years old is uncommon and very unbelievable. Demi had a pretty face, beautiful skin and a personality that could almost match anyone’s. She was very much a catch, but up until Joe had actively pursued her, she had turned every one down.

Joe used the headboard as leverage, sending Demi into a deep haze of lust. Demi could feel herself getting close, her breathing becoming ragged as she moaned and cried out.

Demi could not believed it when Joe approached her that one night, it was Smackdown, she had been there for her first night to see her storyline come to life for the very first time. The way he carried himself, it was how real man carried himself.. and the way he looked at her is the way all girls wanted to be looked at.

"I missed all of you so much," she gasped, her nails digging into Joe's back.

Then, what shocked Demi the most, he invited her for a drink in his tour bus at the time. She took the invitation and when she arrived, she had seen him just getting out of the shower, a towel covering his most intimate areas, the way his tattoos glistened from the water. It awakened Demi in a way she had never been awaken from, Joe had approached her and said “You could touch me..” Demi was a bit scared cause she didn’t know how to properly touch a man.

Joe's thrusts became more urgent as he felt himself getting close. "Do you see what you do to me?" he growled, his voice full of desire.

Once Demi had said “can you show me?” She had knew she’d unleashed this lion within Joe. Demi had also wondered, if he knew she was a virgin. It was something about the way Joe showed her to touch him, it was also very different for Demi because, no man had ever come close to make her feel the way Joe made her feel… that is until Jonathan, Joseph and Joshua came in to play. Now, as she is getting fucked senselessly by the man that deflowered her, she is getting more honest with herself.. that maybe.. just maybe… all she needed was four Samoans.

“Yes yes..” She cried out. “Let them hear you baby..” Joe moaned as he was now going crazy, the headboard now hitting the wall repeatedly, the springs in the bed creaking, everything was going so fucking great.

“You gonna cum for sir?” Joe managed to ask. “Yes sir.. yes sir.. yes sirrrrrrr..” Demi struggled to say, his cock was somehow now hitting her G Spot harder than ever.

Joe kept fucking Demi harder and faster. Demi could once again feel another orgasm building inside her.

"Fuck, Joe," she cried out, her pussy clenching around his cock tightly, Joe couldn’t hold it anymore, the way her pussy pulsated, the way it emitted this different type of warmth.

"I'm gonna cum," he groaned. She nodded, biting her lip.

"Sir, cum inside me, please..” she said as she kept taking his deep thrusts even after he came, obviously fucked into consensual oblivion.

He groaned once more as his cock started twitching inside her as he came. She could feel him filling her up, and it was amazing. He collapsed on top of her, his breath hot against her neck.

He pulled out of her softly, laying beside her. He pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapped around her.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, her head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her.

The room fell into a gentle silence as Joe held Demi close, her breathing steadying as she drifted off in his arms. He looked down at her, a soft smile forming on his lips. For the first time in three months, she seemed at ease, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Joe brushed a strand of hair from her face and whispered, “Take all the time you need, Demi.” His words carried both hope and patience, a quiet promise to meet her where she was.

As the night deepened, Joe stayed awake, his thoughts racing between the past and the possibilities of what could be. Despite everything, holding her again felt right. And even if the road ahead was uncertain, he was willing to walk it at her pace.

Outside, the faint sound of waves lapping at the shore provided a soothing backdrop, wrapping them both in a fragile sense of peace.

—

7:21 AM

Demi woke to the sound of birds chirping, the warm sunlight streaming through the windows, and the soft rise and fall of Joe’s breathing beside her. She rubbed her eyes, slowly waking up, her mind still hazy from sleep. As her gaze shifted to Joe, still sleeping peacefully beside her, a wave of emotion washed over her. She hoped she was right..

She carefully untangled herself from his arms, not wanting to disturb him, and made her way out of his room. Quickly she walked to her room, hoping none of the men would see her naked.

Inside her room, she quickly jumped into the shower. The water washed over her, and for another brief moment, she let herself relax.

After her shower, she brushed her teeth and dressed in a simple tank top and shorts. It felt easy, comfortable. The way things used to be before all the complications.

She left her room, heading toward the kitchen. She was trying to find some sense of normalcy again. When she entered, Jonathan was already there, making breakfast. The familiar scent of waffles filled the air, and Demi couldn’t help but smile a little.

Jonathan turned as he heard her footsteps and offered a warm smile. “Blueberry or chocolate chip?” he asked, motioning toward the waffle maker.

“Blueberry,” she replied, her voice still a little soft from just waking up.

Jonathan’s smile widened as he quickly mixed the batter and poured it into the waffle maker. He seemed to be in his element, moving around the kitchen with ease, and it made Demi feel a little more at ease, too. It was almost as if he was the kind of person who could make even something as simple as breakfast feel like a calm moment.

As he assembled her plate, he set it down in front of her, the waffles steaming and golden brown. On the plate, there were eggs, sausage, and toast alongside the waffles. The smell was inviting, and for a moment, she let herself enjoy the simplicity of it all.

He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, his lips brushing her skin. Demi was a little surprised but didn’t pull away. She met his gaze, and for a second, she felt something shift. Jonathan looked at her expectantly.

“You could kiss me on the lips,” Demi said quietly, almost teasingly.

Jonathan grinned, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the lips, a soft and lingering moment that caught her off guard. The warmth of it made her pulse quicken and as he pulled an away, she wondered about the men that had consumed her soul.. once again.

“Hope you like the waffles,” he said, sitting down across from her with his own plate.

Demi picked up her fork, cutting into the waffle, and took a bite. It was warm and comforting. But as she chewed, her thoughts drifted to Joe. To the night before. To everything that had led her here.

She was beginning to wonder if maybe she had been wrong to shut herself off. Maybe there was a way to make this work.

As Demi continued to eat her waffle, the sound of the front door opening drew her attention. She turned to see Joshua and Joseph walking in, carrying bags from their trip to town. Joshua was the first to approach her, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Good morning,” he said warmly, his voice low and steady.

Joseph followed suit, giving her a small kiss on the forehead before setting the bags down on the counter. “Morning, Demi,” he greeted with a faint smile.

Demi blinked at them, slightly taken aback by their casual affection. It was still so new, this quiet acceptance of their touch, but she found herself relaxing into it more than she expected.

“Where did you guys go?” she asked, trying to mask her lingering awkwardness.

Joseph answered as he began unpacking. “We went into town to grab more alcohol and a few things we needed. I was out of shampoo.”

Demi nodded, her gaze shifting between the two of them. “So… what’s the plan for today?” she asked, curiosity tinged with apprehension.

Joshua leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he spoke. “I’m grilling tonight for all of us. Thought we could do a proper Samoan-style feast.”

Jonathan chimed in from across the room, flipping a waffle onto his plate. “And after we eat, we could check out this little club in Pago Pago. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s got good music.”

Demi hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly. “I don’t think I have anything that qualifies as club attire.”

The three men exchanged amused glances before Joshua spoke again, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Demi, you’re in Samoa. Club attire here isn’t exactly what it is in the States.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Yeah, shorts, a tank top, maybe a dress if you’re feeling fancy—you’ll fit right in.”

Demi gave a small laugh, her tension easing just a little. The thought of going to a club with them was both exciting and nerve-wracking. She wasn’t sure how she’d navigate the attention they might draw—or her own feelings, for that matter—but the idea of experiencing something new with them felt… manageable.

“Alright,” she said, her tone cautious but open. “I’ll think about it.”

Jonathan winked at her. “That’s all we ask.”

Joshua smirked. “And if you need help picking something out, just let us know.”

Demi rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, but I think I’ve got it covered.”

As the men returned to their conversation, Demi’s mind wandered back to her earlier thoughts. Maybe today could be a chance to push her boundaries a little further, to see what this dynamic could really be like outside the walls of the beach house. The idea scared her, but it also sparked a flicker of curiosity.

For now, though, she finished her breakfast, letting the warmth of their banter surround her as she prepared for whatever the day might bring.

—

About an hour after finishing her breakfast, Demi changed into her purple string bikini and carefully applied sunscreen, her fingers gliding over her sun-kissed skin. She slipped on her sandals and stepped out onto the private deck, savoring the warmth of the wooden surface beneath her feet.

She vaulted gracefully over the deck’s railing, landing softly on the warm sand below. The beach stretched out before her, inviting and serene, and she began her slow walk toward the ocean. The grains of sand clung to her sandals, so she slipped them off as she neared the shoreline, letting the cool, soft sand cushion her steps.

The ocean was a masterpiece—clear, pristine, and glistening under the morning sun. Demi marveled at the way the sunlight painted the waves with a golden glow, reflecting back like shattered glass. Stepping into the water, she let the gentle waves lap at her legs, cooling her instantly.

She waded further in, tilting her head back to allow the ocean to wet her hair. The sensation was pure bliss, the heat of the day countered by the cool embrace of the sea. Floating lightly, her body moved with the rhythm of the waves, and for the first time in a while, her mind felt quiet.

She had no sense of how long she’d been out there until a sharp whistle broke through the sounds of the surf. Turning toward the shore, she spotted Joe standing there, his muscular frame striking against the backdrop of the sand and sun. He wore black and red swim trunks that clung to his toned body, and his hair was pulled back into his signature bun, accentuating his sharp features.

“Mind if I join you?” he called, his voice warm and teasing.

Demi smiled and gestured for him to come in. “Of course,” she replied.

Joe made his way into the water, the small waves parting around him as he approached her. Once he was close, he leaned in and kissed her softly, the saltwater adding a faint tang to his lips. Demi instinctively wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer for a moment before gently pulling away.

As they floated together in the water, Demi finally broke the silence, her voice quiet but resolute. “I think I made the right choice.”

Joe tilted his head, studying her expression. “You’re sure?” he asked, his tone free of judgment, just curiosity.

She nodded, her gaze steady. “I am.”

Joe smiled, his hand brushing her damp hair away from her face. “If you really want,” he began cautiously, “tonight… you can be with Josh.”

Demi blinked, slightly taken aback by his openness. “What if I wanted to be with both of you… at the same time?”

Joe chuckled softly, his deep voice resonating with amusement. “Then we’d make it work.”

Demi felt her cheeks flush as she looked into his dark eyes. His confidence, paired with his unwavering support of her choices, was both comforting and thrilling. She knew what tonight would bring, but for the first time in a long time, she felt free to explore what she had never done before.

—

Flashback: December 7th, 2024

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN SHE LEFT?!” Joe’s voice thundered through the hotel room, his anger palpable as he glared at Joseph.

Joseph, ever the stoic, kept his composure, refusing to be rattled. His quiet strength made him the enforcer in the ring and outside of it, and he wasn’t about to falter now. He lowered his gaze briefly, then repeated the words that seemed to light Joe’s fuse.

“She’s done,” Joseph said evenly, recounting Demi’s words from their earlier conversation at the breakfast buffet.

Joe’s jaw clenched as he stepped closer, his towering presence brimming with fury. Joshua and Jonathan stood off to the side, their expressions filled with unease as they watched the tension between Joe and Joseph escalate.

“I told you to fix it,” Joe growled, his voice dangerously low. “And what did you do?”

Joseph didn’t flinch. “I didn’t fix it,” he said simply, meeting Joe’s seething glare with unwavering eye contact.

The tension boiled over as Joe raised his hand, his intention clear, but Joseph caught it mid-air with lightning-fast reflexes. His grip was firm, his voice ice-cold.

“That may work with Josh,” Joseph said, his tone razor-sharp. “But it doesn’t fucking work with me.”

For a moment, the room was deathly silent, the air thick with barely restrained violence. Joe slowly pulled his hand back, his fury now directed at all three of them.

“Go fucking fix the dynamic that you all broke,” Joe spat, his voice filled with venom.

Jonathan, finally unable to stay silent, stood up and interjected. “What the hell did I do?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

Joseph didn’t miss a beat. “I sure as fuck didn’t do nothing neither,” he said, his words cutting through the room like a blade.

Joe’s gaze flicked between the three of them—Jonathan, Joshua, and Joseph. His cousins, his most trusted, and now, in his eyes, his greatest disappointments.

With a voice full of malice, Joe finally spoke. “We’ve never had a submissive willing to leave after a week. You all need to fix this because it’s each and every one of your faults.”

And with that, Joe stormed out of the hotel room, the door slamming behind him.

As the echoes of Joe’s anger faded, the three men were left in silence, the weight of his words hanging over them. Jonathan sank back onto the couch, running a hand through his hair.

Joshua broke the silence. “He’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly, guilt creeping into his voice.

Jonathan crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “We all fucked up. Now we have to figure out how to fix it before it’s too late.”

Joshua thought about Jonathan saying ‘we’, cause as far he was concerned, he didn’t think he did anything to make Demi leave.

Joseph nodded, though his expression remained troubled. “If she’s really done,” he said, his voice heavy, “then how do we even begin to fix this?”

The room fell into a tense silence once more, the three men grappling with the realization that the dynamic they had built—and fractured—was now hanging by a thread.

-

Meanwhile, Demi stood at the counter of Southwest Airlines, her phone in one hand and her wallet tucked under her arm. Pulling her driver’s license and debit card from the back of her phone case, she slid them across the counter to the clerk.

“One way to Stamford, Connecticut,” she said, her voice steady but detached.

As the clerk began typing on the computer, Demi opened her banking app to check her account balance to see how much she can spend on a plane ticket. Her eyes widened at the number staring back at her.

WELLS FARGO CHECKING …0009: Available Balance: $17,827.98.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The benefits of their twisted arrangement, she thought bitterly. They may have been emotionally and physically draining, but they were never cheap when it came to her. Shaking her head, she tried to push the thought away and refocus on the present.

The clerk interrupted her thoughts. “I have a flight leaving in twenty minutes from Terminal 655. First class is $973.72. Would you like that?”

Demi nodded without hesitation. “Yes, that’s fine.”

The clerk finalized her ticket, printing out the boarding pass before sliding it back across the counter along with her license and card.

“You’ll want to head straight to security,” the clerk said, a polite but professional smile on her face. “Have a safe trip.”

Demi muttered a quick thanks before grabbing her things and heading toward the terminal. As she walked, she felt the weight of her decision settle over her. Stamford wasn’t just home—it was an escape. From them, from the chaos, from the complicated feelings she hadn’t yet sorted out.

But as much as she wanted to leave it all behind, part of her wondered if running was just delaying the inevitable. The truth was, no matter how far she went, she couldn’t escape the reality that their lives—and hearts—were still intertwined.

“Focus, Demi,” she whispered to herself as she approached security. “Get on the plane first. Figure out the rest later.”

With her boarding pass in hand and determination in her step, she walked toward a future that felt uncertain yet, for the first time in days, entirely her own.

As Demi landed in Stamford, Connecticut, she didn’t head directly to her apartment. Instead, she pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed her dad’s number. After a few rings, he answered.

“Hello, cupcake! How are you?” her dad’s voice greeted her warmly.

Demi forced a smile, though he couldn’t see it. “Hey, dad! I’m okay.”

Her dad, ever the protective father, asked, “You sure? You sound a bit off.”

Demi quickly masked her emotions. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just… the apartment complex is fumigating my apartment, and they don’t want to help me into another unit. I was wondering if you have any rental properties that aren’t listed for your AirBnb’s? I could really use a place.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Well, first, I’d sue the apartment complex. Those greedy assholes, all they want is their money! But I’ve got a couple of places you can use. I have a condo on the Stamford waterfront, and there’s a little cottage about 40 minutes outside of Stamford.”

Demi sighed with relief. “Can I use the cottage until I can get this all figured out?”

Her dad immediately softened. “Of course, sweetheart. Anything for my baby girl. The keys are underneath the bear statue holding the wine bottle. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Demi replied, hanging up the phone. She exhaled, feeling a mixture of guilt and relief, but there was no time to dwell on it. She had to leave.

Her cab pulled up to her apartment, and she hesitated for just a moment. The weight of the decision to leave the four men behind—still felt heavy in her chest. She had to get away, though. She couldn’t stay here, surrounded by reminders of everything that had gone wrong.

With determination, she grabbed her bags and hurried inside. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet, and as she walked through the familiar space, her body tensed, and her mind flashed to Jonathan’s punishment—sharp and unforgiving—but she quickly forced the thought away. No time for that now.

She rushed around the apartment, throwing clothes and personal items into two suitcases. She moved quickly, almost mechanically, knowing she couldn’t stay any longer. When she was satisfied with what she packed, she grabbed the suitcases and headed for her car.

She tossed the bags into the trunk, slammed it shut, and slid into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life as she sped off, leaving her past behind, or at least trying to. She had to go. She had to get away.

[rainisawriter]

Worth the Risk (Yuken)

Genre: Fluff, slice of life

Word Count: 4,484

Pairing: Reader x Yuken

World: High&Low

Request:

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━

The bedroom was dark, the house silent as the rest of your family slept. A tiny sliver of moonlight was shining through the curtains, falling across the round clock that sat on the wall opposite the window.

You glanced at it and scowled in frustration, forcing your eyes closed once more. Only three minutes have passed since the last time you checked, though it felt as if an hour had passed. It was only three in the morning and you should be sleeping, but excitement was swatting at the sandman every time he tried to get close.

Rolling onto your side, you grabbed your phone off the bedside table and tapped the power button. A smile immediately came to your face when your eyes fell on the wallpaper.

It was a picture of you and Yuken from a few months ago, both of you smiling brightly. He had snuck his hand up behind your head at the last moment, using his fingers to make it look like you had tiny bunny ears.

The two of you lived nearly ten hours away from each other so you rarely got to see him outside of video calls. While the two of you spoke daily, it did feel hard sometimes. You missed the gentle way he held you and the subtle scent of his cologne filling your nose. You missed running your fingers through his silky hair and the feel of his plush lips against your own.

You gently rubbed your thumb over the screen, glancing at the time again. Another three minutes had passed, but you were feeling less annoyed after having seen his face. You never understood it, but he had this strange effect on you. Whenever you were sad or angry, he could flip your mood around with a single look or a few words whispered into your ear.

Seeing his face was enough because you knew that, in just a few hour’s time, you would be on the road toward Toaru city. It was going to be a long, torturous trip, but it would be worth it in the end. 

More importantly, you had decided not to tell him you were coming because you wanted to surprise him. You couldn’t wait to see his shocked expression when you appeared on his doorstep. Taking one last look at the photo, you returned the phone to the table before burying yourself under the covers.

After forcing yourself to lie still for ten minutes, you were finally able to drift off, dreaming of the man you loved so dearly.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You stared out the train window with narrowed eyes, arms folded over your chest. Your finger was tapping roughly against your arm, leg bouncing up and down quickly to show off your annoyance. The scenery outside was still as the train sat, unmoving, on the tracks.

“Calm down,” chuckled your father, his eyes dancing with amusement as he peered at you over his newspaper.

“Why aren’t we moving? We’ve been sitting still for nearly twenty minutes!”

He quirked a brow before glancing at his watch. “It’s only been ten, dear.”

“Same thing!” You threw your hands up in frustration. “What do you think is going on?”

He hummed. “Perhaps a portal opened up and they’re trying to decide if it’ll take us to Hogwarts.”

“Dad, I’m serious!” You sent him an exasperated look and he chuckled.

“Calm down,” he set the newspaper onto the seat beside him before standing up. “I’ll see what I can find out.” He paused, sending you a grin. “Don’t get taken by a dementor!”

You rolled your eyes at his antics but a smile came to your lips despite the frustration you felt. You kept glancing between the window and the aisle as you waited for your father to return. About eight minutes later, he was sitting down across from you once more.

You looked at him expectantly but he just resumed reading his newspaper as if you weren’t waiting for him to speak. You narrowed your eyes at him, attempting to bore a hole into him. When you saw the corners of his lips twitch, you knew he was doing it just to annoy you. 

“Dad!”

“Hm? Yes, sweety?” He looked at you innocently yet he couldn’t hold back his shit-eating grin or the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I swear, I’m going to pour coffee into the toaster when we get home.”

The grin immediately fell into a frown. “Not toasty! He’s old, you know!”

You rolled your eyes, giving him an exasperated look. “Sometimes I wonder which of us is the actual parent…”

He snickered. “A flink of cows were crossing the tracks so they’re trying together them out of the way.”

You blinked at him dumbly. “A flink?”

He nodded and the two of you just stared at each other.

When you realized he had no intention of explaining himself, you asked, “What the hell is a flink?”

“How do you not know?” He sent you a disappointed look, shaking his head. “A group of twelve cows is called a flink. What are they teaching you at that school?”

You scoffed in disbelief. “Unless someone plans to become a farmer, no one needs to know that information, dad. You and your useless information, I swear…”

“Hey, one day my useless information will come in handy and you’ll be grateful!”

“When? When would that ever possibly come in handy?”

“Well…” he tapped his chin in thought for a moment. “Say we get kidnapped -“

“Oh my god.”

“Right? That would be shocking.”

You sent him a deadpan look which he promptly ignored.

“Say the kidnapper is a quiz enthusiast. Maybe he was inspired by the Saw franchise. He looks over at us and says, ‘If you can answer a random question, I’ll set you free. If you fail, I’ll cut off eight limbs with a rusty hacksaw.'”

He purposefully made his voice deep and gravelly when he said this, clearly trying to imitate the ‘killer.’ This caught the attention of the woman sitting in the opposite aisle and she sent him a strange, horrified look. You returned it with an apologetic smile.

“Oi, dad, I don’t think -“

“If he asks about a group of twelve cows, I’ve just saved both of our lives.”

“He would never ask that!”

“You’re right, we live in the city so he’d be more likely to ask where the word ‘squirrel’ originated from.”

“Dad -“

“It originated from the Greek words ‘skia’ and ‘oura’ which translates to Shadow Tail!” He grinned, sending you a look as if waiting for you to praise him for his knowledge.

Instead, you just exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel a headache coming on and there were still five hours to go before arriving in Toaru city. You loved your dad, but sometimes he was just too much of a headache.

After five more unwanted facts about squirrels, the train slowly started to lurch forward, the tracks squealing as it picked up speed.

“Finally,” you muttered, turning your gaze toward the window as the scenery started to pass by in a blur. 

With a satisfied nod, he picked up his newspaper and continued where he had left off, finally giving you some peace and quiet.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

You frowned, pulling the phone away from your ear. It was the fifth time you’ve called Yuken since arriving in the city and, each time, it went straight to voice mail. He wasn’t answering any of his text messages, either.

You had stopped by his home, as well, but his sister claimed that he hadn’t returned home from school yet. It was only five in the afternoon so this wasn’t too unusual, she claimed. He oftentimes didn’t return home until well after the sun had set.

What was unusual, though, was the fact that he was completely ghosting you. Unless he was sleeping, he always made time to answer your call or, at the very least, text you to let you know he was busy at the moment and couldn’t talk. You couldn’t remember a single time he had ignored you like this.

When the two of you first started dating, Yuken made you promise never to visit Housen without him. He claimed it was unsafe and he didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to you. Honestly, that was fine with you, but now? Now, you were considering breaking that promise.

Maybe you were just overreacting because the situation was unusual, but something felt off to you. There was a feeling that had settled in your gut upon first stepping off the train and it hadn’t gone away. You couldn’t put a name to it, though you knew it wasn’t anything positive.

The trip to Housen was uneventful, but you realized quickly why he didn’t want you to go there alone. The students were all large, beefy males with bald heads. They stared at you through narrowed eyes, watching every move you made as you slowly headed into the school. Honestly, you had to wonder if you were at the right place.

Surely Yuken would be bald, as well, if he attended this school, but you had run your fingers through his silky locks on more than one occasion and you knew it was real.

“Can I help you?”

Your head snapped to the side at the voice, seeing a tall, brown-haired male standing in the middle of the hallway. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his grey uniform. A thick bandage was taped to his left cheek, eye bruised, a cut on his chin and his lip split. 

“Oh, um…” you shifted your weight, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m looking for Odajima Yuken.”

Monji’s eyes narrowed at you suspiciously as he sized you up. You didn’t seem like a spy from another school and you had a different aura than the people he usually faced. He was confident in his ability to tell who was a threat and who wasn’t and he was sure that you were no threat. Even so, he wouldn’t let his guard down, as is expected of Housen’s future leader.

“Why are you looking for him?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Monji was caught off guard, eyes widening. Had he heard you correctly or was his concussion messing with his hearing? “E-Eh? What did you just say?”

“Yuken is my boyfriend,” you repeated with a frown, taking a worried step closer to him. “I’ve been calling him all day but he isn’t answering and I’m really worried!”

He could see the genuine concern within your eyes but he was still hooked on the claim that Yuken was your boyfriend. The taller male hadn’t mentioned anything about you nor had he dropped any hints that he was dating someone. “Can you prove it?”

“Huh?” You blinked dumbly.

“Prove that you’re dating him.”

You didn’t feel as if you needed to prove anything to this man, honestly, but your worry for Yuken was stronger and you would do anything if it meant you got to see him and know that he was okay. Tugging your phone from your pocket, you unlocked it before holding it out.

Monji took a step closer, eyes narrowed at the screen. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting and he was left completely surprised to see a picture of yourself and Yuken, embracing each other and smiling.

“Here’s your proof, now please go get him!”

“He’s not here,” frowned Monji, folding his arms over his chest. “But I’ll take you to him.”

“Where is he?”

“The hospital.”

Your eyes widened in shock, heart skipping a beat. “What? Is he okay?!”

“He will be,” he nodded, brushing past you and toward the door. “Odajima-senpai is one of our strongest members.”

With a confused frown, you started after him. Perhaps following someone you didn’t know was a bad idea yet you did so without hesitation, more concerned about your boyfriend than your own safety.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

Yuken sat up in bed, eating a cup of jello as he watched the tiny TV mounted against the wall. His leg was in a cast, propped up atop a stack of pillows. A white bandage was wrapped around his right arm and shoulder, a purple bruise resting against his cheek.

“It’s mine,” scowled Jinkawa as he tried to grab the chocolate pudding. “I called it first!”

Shidaken scowled, his own hand attempting to grab the pudding cup. “What, are you five? You can’t just claim something like that!”

“I just did!”

Sawamura sighed deeply. “If you’re going to argue, do it quietly. If the nurse scolds us again, she’s going to make us leave!”

Sabakan snickered from the bathroom as he looked into the mirror, fixing up his hair. “You’re yelling, too, Sawamura-kun.”

The bald male scowled at the comment, realizing Sabakan was right. What was he supposed to do, though? Those two didn’t respond to anything else. Half the time, they didn’t even respond to the yelling.

“First come, first serve,” snapped Jinkawa. “Eat the vanilla.”

“No way! The vanilla is sugar-free and tastes like ass!”

“Oh, how do you know what ass tastes like?” Sabakan quirked a brow as he stepped out of the bathroom. A smirk slid onto his lips when Shidaken’s face turned red at the implication.

“S-Shut up!”

“Stop yelling,” hissed Sawamura, glancing at the door when he heard footsteps out in the hall. “Yuken-san, say something to them.”

Yuken quirked a brow as the four boys turned to stare at him, waiting for him to speak. Honestly, he didn’t care one way or another, he just wanted to enjoy his jello in peace. Their arguing was giving him a major headache, too.

With a sigh, he placed his jello cup down and reached for the pudding. They held it tightly, making him scowl as he had to force it from their grip. Pulling the lid off, he grabbed a spoon and began to dip it out onto the empty plate sitting on the table. He created two piles on either side of the plate until the cup was empty.

“Happy now?”

The two males blinked at the plate for a moment before scowling and voicing their complaints. It was hard to understand what they were saying as they spoke over each other but they clearly weren’t happy. One thing he managed to understand was that, apparently, the piles were not even.

With a groan, his head fell back against the pillow, hand covering his eyes as the two started to argue over which pile they deserved. 

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

As Monji approached Yuken’s room, he hesitated. He could hear the commotion inside and knew that the others had stayed with Yuken since the accident. They were a lot closer to him than Monji was so he worried about how they would take this news.

He had no doubt in his mind that Yuken kept you a secret to keep you safe and he had to wonder if he was doing the right thing by bringing you here. Perhaps he should have called ahead first to ensure that the other boys weren’t around.

You reached for the door but he held his hand up to stop you, earning a confused look.

“There’s something you need to know first…”

Your brow furrowed and you glanced nervously at the door. “How… how bad is he?”

“It’s not that, it’s just -“

There was a loud noise from inside the room, followed by the yelling of two males. With a racing heart, you pushed Monji out of the way and rushed into the room. The sound of the door slamming open caught the attention of the males inside, save for Jinkawa and Shidaken who were on the floor, wrestling.

Yuken felt the breath leave his lungs when he saw you and he tried to push himself up, wincing as pain shot through his leg. You rushed over to his side with a frown, quickly scanning his wounds.

“Don’t move,” you scolded softly, hand on his chest to stop him from getting up. 

He breathed out your name, hand resting over your own. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you frowned. “You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried…”

“Ah, my phone…” He winced at the thought of his poor phone being drowned in the river. Sabakan had managed to find it, but despite days of sitting in rice, he had lost hope that his phone would dry out enough to be usable again. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

You smiled softly, brushing his hair behind his ear. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Your eyes flickered to his leg and your smile dropped a bit. “Well, mostly. What in the world happened?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” he pouted. “I’m fine.”

You scoffed. “A broken leg isn’t nothing. And look at your beautiful face…” You gently brushed your thumb over the bruise.

Sawamura blinked dumbly at you, his gaze flickering to Monji and back. “Uh… who are you?”

Yuken cursed mentally when he realized that the two of you weren’t alone. Before he could speak, though, you straightened your back and introduced yourself to the bald male.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you bowed politely. 

Sawamura bowed back, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you know, Yuken-san?”

Yuken tried to call out your name to stop you but you were quicker, responding without hesitation.

“He’s my boyfriend!”

The room went dead silent. Even Jinkawa and Shidaken finally stopped fighting, staring at you in disbelief. Yuken held back a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose because he knew what was coming.

In the blink of an eye, Jinkawa, Shikaden and Sabakan surrounded the two of you, screaming out questions that overlapped one another, making it impossible to distinguish what was being said.

You backed up against the bedside table, holding your hands up in surrender as you smiled nervously at the large men surrounding you. 

“Oi!” yelled Yuken with a scowl, grabbing Shikaden’s arm since he was the closest. “Knock it off!”

He scowled back in response. “How could you not tell us?!”

Jinkawa nodded, arms folded over his chest. “Seriously, Odajima! Not only are you dating someone, but you’re dating someone this cute and you didn’t tell us? I’m offended!”

Sabakan leaned toward you curiously, hand on his chin. “I’m curious how the two of you met. I mean, you’re clearly out of his league.”

“Hey!” Yuken’s scowl deepened at the insult. “This is why I didn’t tell you idiots.”

“How long have you been dating?” demanded Jinkawa, his dark eyes falling on you.

“Oh, um…” you glanced at your boyfriend and he sent you an apologetic look. “About a year -“

“A year?!” The three chorused loudly.

“Guys!” hissed Sawamura but it was too late.

The door was slammed open, a middle-aged woman appearing in the doorway with fire in her eyes. “That’s it! I’ve told you brats to keep it down five times and I’ve had enough! All of you, out!”

“But -” Jinkawa tried to protest but even he winced when her glare fell on him. He quickly bowed his head, muttering an apology before quickly leaving the room with the others following suit. 

Her eyes fell on you and you winced under the weight of her glare. “You, too!”

Yuken’s arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you down onto the bed beside him. His chin rested on your shoulder as he sent the nurse a pout. “If you kick everyone out, I’ll get lonely.”

She pursed her lips in thought, hands on her hips. After a tense moment of silence, she finally gave in to his request. “Fine, but if you create a ruckus like those boys, you’re out. Understand?”

You nodded quickly and when she finally left the room, you released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

Yuken chuckled softly. “She’s terrifying, right? I’ve never seen anyone put those guys into their place like that. It’s pretty amusing.”

You hummed, shifting on the bed so you could see him better. “As long as she’s taking care of you properly.”

“She’s a great nurse, don’t worry.” He leaned toward you, forehead resting against your own. “I’m sorry for worrying you, love. I should have called.”

“Don’t apologize. You getting rest and healing is more important.” You scanned his face with a frown, brushing the hair from his face. “Will you tell me what happened?”

He really didn’t want to because, truth be told, he felt embarrassed. Yuken was a strong man, a fighter who rarely lost to anyone. He took pride in his strength and his long-standing win streak and yet… the great Odajima Yuken had been bested.

By a fish.

The thought made him scowl, hand running through his hair in frustration.

“Yuken,” you stressed with a sigh. “If you’re trying to protect me, you’re a bit late.”

“Huh?” His head snapped toward you, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Were you hurt?”

“No,” you shook your head, chuckling at his reaction. His concern did bring about a warm feeling within your chest, though. “I’ve known since the day we met that you’re a delinquent.”

“How?” His brow furrowed as confusion and frustration collided within him. He had gone out of his way to ensure that you never found out about the lifestyle he had chosen only for you to tell him it had been all for naught.

“Your sister told me,” you admitted, offering him a sheepish smile. “That first week when we started to hang out with each other, she saw us on one of our dates. Before I left town, she tracked me down and told me that I needed to be careful.”

Yuken groaned, letting himself fall back against the pillow. “Damn it, nee-chan…”

You chuckled softly, hand resting on his stomach. “She was looking out for both of us. She didn’t want us to get close only for me to find out the truth the hard way and then break your heart.”

For a moment, he considered your words, his eyes finding yours. “You stayed…”

“I did. I knew the risks but… I believed the reward was worth the risk.”

“And was it?” he asked softly, his hand finding yours.

You couldn’t stop the smile that came to your lips as you leaned closer. “Yeah… it was definitely worth it.”

He grinned, propping himself up on his elbows so he could close the distance, claiming your lips. You didn’t hesitate to return it, head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss.

“Awwwwww!”

The two of you broke apart, heads snapping toward the door. Jinkawa and Shikaden were peering around the door with grins on their faces. Even the nurse was standing beside them with a warm smile on her face. When she realized she had been caught, her cheeks darkened and she cleared her throat.

“I told you boys to leave!” Her voice lacked the bite it had possessed earlier. She shooed them away, ignoring their protests.

Yuken sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry about them. They can be… a bit much.”

You chuckled. “So it seems, but they also seem nice. I’m looking forward to getting to know them.”

His eyes lit up with surprise. “You want to?”

“Your friends are my friends.” You paused for a moment before adding, “If you’re okay with that, I mean.”

“Absolutely,” he breathed, arms slipping around your waist so he could pull you against his body. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too~ Now tell me what happened.”

He groaned, hugging you tighter. “Can’t you just forget about it?”

“Your leg is broken,” you scoffed. “Doesn’t exactly heal overnight, you know.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you,” he sighed, sending you a serious look when you sat up. “But you can’t laugh.”

“Scout’s honor,” you replied seriously, holding one hand up while placing the other over your heart.

He was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I was fishing with a friend of mine. It was a slow day and we barely got any bites. Then, out of nowhere, there was a heavy tug on my rod. It nearly flew into the river but I managed to catch it in time. This fish was huge, baby, and he was putting up quite the fight.”

You nodded as you listened to the story, taking note of how his eyes lit up as he recalled the memory. His hands were re-enacting it, as well, as if he could feel the rod in his hands once more.

“Todoroki-chan told me to cut the line when I was nearly pulled into the water, but I refused. I dug in my heels, determined to catch him!” He scowled at the window, eyes narrowed. “He was determined not to be caught, though, and, well…”

“Well?” You quirked a brow, waiting patiently.

A small dusting of pink came to his cheeks as he folded his arms over his chest. “I was pulled into the river…”

“You broke your leg from just falling in the river?”

“…”

“Yuken…”

“I didn’t let the rod go and the bastard dragged me through the water until I hit the large buoy… I tried to brace myself with my feet…”

“Ouch,” you winced at the thought, a frown on your lips. “Why didn’t you let go of the rod?”

“It was my favorite one… a Rodeo Ride Reviver 70XH Battle Cry with a limited edition dragon design printed on it! I barely slept for two weeks because I was trying to win it through a radio show and I finally got it! Take that, Yamisaka, you bastard.“

You stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly. When the words finally sank in, you couldn’t help but chuckle, bringing your hand to your mouth.

He frowned at you, arms folded over his chest. “You said you wouldn’t laugh… scout’s honor, remember?”

“I was never a scout,” you grinned.

He gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “The betrayal…”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I just didn’t realize you were so into fishing,” you explained with a smile. “You’re so cute when you’re talking about it.”

Yuken quirked a brow. “Am I not cute when I’m not talking about it?”

“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin.

“Oi,” he scowled, nudging you with his uninjured leg. “That’s not something you should have to think about, ya know.”

“You’re always cute. You’re just cuter when you’re talking about your passions.”

A smile came to his lips, warmth filling him. He held his arms out and you didn’t hesitate to move closer, resting against his chest as his arms encircled you. Yuken wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve you but he was determined to never let you go.

━━━━━━༻☔༺━━━━━━

-> High&Low/Rampage Taglist: @kiraaaeon, @simpforchuchu, @star2fishmeg, @thatpoindexterpixy @manhwabtch

-> General Taglist: @asterhaze, @mrskenpachizaraki

[lveloop]

𓏹⠀.⠀crystal clear .

a/n. wrote this while listening to supernatural on repeat which is why the title is crystal clear😭 that part is so addicting though?? this isn’t the best but wanted to get something out for now

summary. you and yeonjun’s relationship isn’t on the same page. but will it get better?

masterlist.

another argument with yeonjun. which leads to you leaving the house around 8pm, then finding yourself sitting on a bench at a nearby park.

let’s backtrack a little.

you and yeonjun’s relationship has had a bit of a downfall. it just seems like you both can never agree now. it was a rough patch. and always - always - you two were arguing.

as leaves from the tree next to you fell down onto the grass, your tears drying up with the help of the wind, you feel the presence of someone walking up behind you.

and you don’t even need to look back to know.

“y/n…”

yeonjun’s voice spoke with regret and softness, different from his tone before. and a second later he was sat next to you. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to say those things.”

after some seconds that felt like minutes you did reply. “yeonjun, i love you. but i think it’s crystal clear that we’re slowly drifting away from each other. i don’t think i want that. “

“i don’t either,” he spoke honestly, not locking the eye contact yet. “it won’t be easy, but i’m willing to work this out with you. and we won’t argue like this again.”

silence fell across you two as you both just stared off into the distance. no words were exchanged, just letting the sound of the breeze carry the moment.

and after some confidence, you leaned your head on yeonjun’s shoulder. he didn’t look back down, he didn’t say a thing. but he leaned the side of his head on yours.

maybe this would get better.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 38: Revive

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

All night I keep watch. All night I wait. Wait for his breathing to cease, wait for him to open his eyes. My own exhaustion tempts my eyelids to droop but the threat of Death keeps me awake. The Reaper might swoop in any minute to claim Thomas. 

I don’t know how long it’s been when a hint of sunlight starts creeping in through the window. Thomas stirs in the bed covers and his breathing pattern quickens.

“Fuck…” 

He spoke! He tries to move his head but the brace keeps him trapped. Thomas slowly shifts over and sees me watching him. The sight makes me want to praise God a million times. He’s alive! Still weakened, but alive!

“I think I died. I saw me dad…” He groans. “And then I thought I saw an angel.”

I stand up on numb legs and reach for his hand. “You have no idea how good it sounds to hear you, Thomas. We thought you were gone.”

His tired face tries to smirk. “Miss me, eh?”

A mix between a laugh and a hiccup escapes me. “Not funny.”

Thomas’ attempt at dark humor slides off when he sees how serious I am. Those unblinking blue eyes scan my face and he realizes how worried for him I am.

“C’mere.”

He reaches for me and in a state of weakness I softly rest my head on his chest. It’s not a hug of any romantic interest, no. It’s the same kind of embrace I gave him when he woke from night terrors. One might look at this and say I’m just as scatterbrained as any other woman who takes interest in Thomas; but the feeling of comfort we give to each other is something no one can physically see. No mention of love. This is healing. 

Sadly it has to end but when I lift my head Thomas doesn’t let me go far. “Meeting you in a hospital has to stop being a common event.”

He’s still staring at me. “You’ve been crying.”

“Can you blame me? Unlike you I don’t think emotions should be embarrassing. Please promise you’ll never scare me like this again!”

The touch of his calloused hand on my face almost makes me freeze. “You-”

“Tommy?”

We both flinch at the intrusion and look up to see Michael. He looks confused and no one can blame him. It’s not often that Thomas acts vulnerable and I already see him rebuilding the walls.

“Hello Michael.”

The boy clears his throat. “Verena, could you…?”

He needs to speak with him alone. 

I nod before he can fully answer. “I’ll stand guard outside. Yell if you need anything.”

I give Thomas’ hand an extra squeeze and leave the men to their privacy. Something about Michael’s face tells me it’s personal. I go to the nearest phone and dial Ada.

“Ada? It’s Verena. Thomas is awake and doing well. Michael’s meeting with him.”

On the other end I hear her sigh. “Thank God! Do you plan on staying with him or should we hire a nurse?”

Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. There’s no question that I say yes in a heartbeat if Thomas asks, but I can’t force that on him.

“That’s for him to decide.”

Days go by and Thomas slowly starts to recuperate. The whole time I keep commuting between the hospital and Arrow House. The instant Thomas gets the discharge papers from the doctor he immediately arranges for a car to take him home. He’s right. I’d rather recover in a dustbin rather than this creepy place. He does arrange for a nurse but still insists that I stay at Arrow House until he's recovered. On the ride back Thomas drifts in and out of sleep, muttering nonsense. When we head up the driveway I see little Charlie waving from the front porch.

“Daddy!” He squeals when Thomas steps out.

A smile spreads on my face. “He’s been waiting for you. Mary says he’s been crying at night since you’ve been gone.”

Thomas kneels down and scoops the child into a hug. “Thank you. For watching him.”

“He’s a gem. I didn’t think I’d be good with kids but he and Karl have become partners in crime with me.” I point a finger at him. “Now it’s time for you, mister, to rest. I will not be taking you back to the hospital if you force your stitches open.”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright.” He walks inside to settle into his desk chair, bouncing Charlie on his lap. 

“Is Daddy sick?”

I set the medicine kit on the table. “Yes Charlie, and I’m going to do everything I can to help him get better.”

This makes Thomas get a cheeky grin. “Oh really?”

“Oh shut up!” I swat his shoulder.

Three months later

God smiles on us again. Thomas makes a smooth recovery and does well to not become addicted to his medication. According to Mary he made quite a statement about it. His hair grows back, as well as his redivivus spirit. If only he wasn’t so keen on ending his recovery so soon. Today’s the day he calls his brothers over and chaos is already forming.

“Absolutely preposterous!” I hiss and stiffly set the tea tray down on Thomas’ desk. 

“Well now, who is this young lady?” A deep voice asks. “Shalom!”

A new man is standing a few feet away. A man with a face that talks business and eyes that speak philosophy. He's wearing a trench coat, tallit, and a unique black hat. A Jewish man. His laid-back manner tells me Thomas trusts him. Another one of his connections.

“Verena, meet Alfie Solomons.” Thomas gestures to each of us. “Mr. Solomons, meet Ms. Verena Steenstra.”

The bearded man looks me up and down with friendly regards. “Steensta, Steenstra… I know your uncle. Very Christian, very tough. You tell him I will meet him for a drink sometime.”

I offer a hand and we shake. “Pleased to meet you. I’m assuming you are here to assist Mr. Shelby? You’re against the Russians too?”

Mr. Solomons is surprised by my wit to guess. “Yeah. ‘Cause of what they did to me mother.” He looks at Thomas. “Keep her, Tommy. She’s a live one.”

My eyes widen a fraction and a blush threatens to turn my face red. “Anyways. You will not guess what I just heard the boys talking about.”

Thomas lazily sips his whiskey. “Go on.”

“It was Micheal talking about Charlotte. He knocked her up. Do you Shelby men ever keep it in your pants?”

The door bursts open. John and Michael stroll in but Arthur cautiously keeps by the door. 

“What’s that?” John asks brightly, ignoring my annoyed tone.

I put my hands on my hips. “Let me rephrase: can you ever stop fucking?!”

Solomons outright laughs and Thomas takes another drink. Michael looks as scarlet as the rug and John simply shrugs.

“It’s nature, love. Can’t help it. I’m surprised you haven’t found a good man yourself.”

Arthur decides to step in. “Get off it, John. Verena’s much more level-headed than you’ll ever be.”

John scoffs. “Yeah but you weren’t 21 when you lost your virginity.”

Arthur gawks at me. “Steenstra? You’re 21? You’re closer to Finn than I thought. When’s your birthday?”

Okay, when did this discussion venture to the topic of my birthday? I personally don’t feel like talking about it in front of a stranger either.

“October 1903.”

Arthur gets an ‘a-ha’ expression. “I forgot women mature faster. I thought you were at least 25.”

“Hello, Arthur,” Mr. Solomons greets the oldest Shelby. “Shalom.”

Arthur’s displeased by his presence. If this is going to be another meeting full of cocky men then I want no part of it. I weave through the group but Thomas stops me just before I reach the door.

“Take some time for yourself, eh? We’ve got everything covered.”

My eyes narrow. “You said you’ve been taking a break.”

He tilts his head. “I’ve formed a plan.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes. And right now it’s for us to handle. Please-”

“I know, I know.” I hold my hands up in defeat and exit the office.

Ring! Ring! 

“Ms. Steenstra! Telephone!”

Well how about that?

I reach the phone and I already know it’s Ada from Karl’s laughter in the background.

“Verena? How are the boys?”

The building stress from the past month presses on my shoulders. “Making another mess. Seems that men are the only ones I can get along with. You’re the one who’s not pushing me away, Ada. Polly won’t talk. Esme’s too busy being pregnant. Linda and Lizzie hate me.”

It sounds harsh but after all these weeks of helping at Arrow House one would think someone else would call or stop by. But no. Only a few letters and select calls from Polly. Nothing too extreme. Maybe her ‘project’ is keeping her busy.

“Come over to my place for dinner. Karl would love to see you.”

Ada’s offer sounds like a breath of fresh air. “You mean it?”

“Of course. Get over here, we’re having a girls night!”

Well it’s about bloody time.

@meadows5

[cheynovak]

A Night to Remember

Part 9: Home sweet home?  

Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N         

Warnings: unfaithful,  divorce, hurt, angst, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language 

Before you read... I'm sorry in advance.

--    

Will the world believe that Jensen and Y/N were acting, will the world believe the picture was a publicity stunt? But more importantly, will they?       

Or is their tension towards each other, their ‘harmless’ flirting going to burst into flames? How much longer will they be able to keep their professional distance?     

-- 

Jensen had just returned home from a whirlwind convention tour, his heart heavy with unresolved emotions from his encounter with Y/N in Greece. They had met under the dazzling Mediterranean sun, shared stolen moments, and ignited a spark that was impossible to ignore. But their time together had been marred by an argument that left them both reeling, and there had been no chance to mend the rift before he had to leave. 

As he walked through the front door of his Austin home, the familiar warmth and comfort did little to ease his mind. Danneel, his wife, greeted him with a forced smile, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. Their three kids were a blur of excitement, hugging and fighting for his attention, but Jensen's thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. 

It was after the kids had gone to bed that the storm finally broke. Danneel had been waiting for the right moment, and now, in the quiet of their living room, she couldn't hold back any longer. 

"Jensen, we need to talk," she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. He turned to face her, guilt gnawing at his insides. "What's wrong, Dee?" 

"What's wrong?" she repeated, incredulous. "You tell me. You've been distant for months, Jensen. And now, I find these." She held up his phone, the screen glowing with incriminating evidence. 

Jensen's heart sank as he saw the messages he had exchanged with Y/N, the late-night phone calls, and the photos from Greece. He had been careless, letting his guard down in moments of weakness. 

"Danneel, ..." he started, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me, Jensen! You've been sneaking around behind my back with her, telling me not to worry. How long has this been going on?" 

"It wasn't like that," Jensen protested, his voice rising. "Y/N and I... we connected, yes, but it was never physical. We had a rough time, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I was trying to sort out my feelings." 

Danneel's eyes filled with tears, her anger giving way to heartbreak. "You should have been sorting out your feelings with me, Jensen. I'm your wife. We have a family. Do you even realize what you've done?" 

"I know, Dee, I know," he said, stepping closer, but she backed away, shaking her head. "Do you? Because it feels like you've forgotten everything we've built together. You've been so wrapped up in your own world, you didn't even notice me slipping away." 

Jensen felt a pang of regret, realizing the extent of the damage he'd caused. "I'm sorry, Danneel. I never meant to hurt you. I was confused and lost, but I know that's no excuse." 

She wiped away a tear, her expression hardening. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Jensen. How do I know this won't happen again? How do I know you're not in love with her?" 

His silence spoke volumes. He couldn't deny the feelings he had for Y/N, but he also knew he couldn't bear to lose Danneel and their family. Danneel’s next words threw him off balance. 

“Jensen, I think we need to take some time apart,” Danneel said, her voice steady but laced with pain. He stared at her, stunned. “Apart? Danneel, please, we can work through this together. I don’t want to be away from you and the kids.” 

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I need time, Jensen. Time to heal, to figure out what I want, and to see if I can ever trust you again. I can’t just pretend everything is okay when it’s not.” 

Jensen felt a surge of panic. “What about the kids? How will we explain this to them?” Danneel thought for a second, “Right now, nothing too much, we’ll tell them your work is taking longer. I’ll call you like we used to do.” 

He wanted to protest, to plead with her to reconsider, but he could see the resolve in her expression. She needed this space, and if he truly wanted to make things right, he had to respect her wishes. 

“Okay,” Jensen said quietly. “I’ll stay somewhere else for a while.” She nodded, wiping away a tear.  

The next few days were a blur of packing and quiet, painful conversations. Jensen found a temporary place to stay, a small apartment not too far from their home. Saying goodbye to his children was the hardest part; their confused and sad faces tore at his heart. 

“Why are you leaving, Daddy?” their oldest asked, her big eyes filled with worry. 

“I just need to take care of some things for work, sweetheart. But I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you very much,” Jensen assured her, hugging her tightly.  

Once he was settled in his new place, the loneliness set in. The apartment was stark and impersonal, a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made. He spent his days focusing on his work and his nights thinking about how he had ended up here. 

Danneel, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep things normal for the kids. She threw herself into her routines, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy while grappling with her own feelings of betrayal and sadness. 

One evening, after putting the kids to bed, Danneel found herself scrolling through old photos on her phone. Pictures of happier times, family vacations, birthdays, and quiet moments at home. She felt a pang of longing for those days, wondering if they could ever get back to that place. 

Finally, after nearly two months apart, Danneel reached out to Jensen. They agreed to meet at a small café, a neutral place where they could talk without the weight of their home hanging over them. 

Jensen arrived early, his heart pounding with anxiety. When Danneel walked in, looking both familiar and distant, he stood up, unsure of what to expect. 

“Hi,” she said softly, sitting down across from him. 

“Hi,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. 

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence heavy but not entirely uncomfortable. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Danneel began. “And a lot of healing. These past few weeks have been incredibly hard, but also... enlightening.” 

Jensen nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I’ve realized that I still love you, Jensen. But love isn’t enough. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that’s going to take time.” She reached across the table, taking his hand. 

Jensen felt the warmth of Danneel's hand in his, but the words that followed shattered the fragile hope he had been nurturing. 

“Jensen, I don’t think I can live with you anymore. I need to know that your mind and heart are no longer with Y/N. This separation isn’t just about space; it’s about healing and trust.” 

His heart sank. He had been clinging to the idea that they could rebuild their life together under the same roof. “Danneel, I still think about her sometimes,” he admitted, the honesty painful but necessary. “But my priority is you and the kids. I want to be the father they need and the husband you deserve.” 

She pulled her hand back, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve never felt betrayed like this, Jensen. I’ve tried to understand, to forgive, but every time I look at you, all I can think about is the hurt. I don’t know if I can move past this.” 

His throat tightened, the reality of her words cutting deep. “What are you saying, Dee?” 

“I think we need to get a divorce,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I don’t think I can ever fully trust you again. For the sake of my own sanity and the well-being of our kids, I think it’s the best decision.” 

Jensen felt a wave of despair crash over him. “Danneel, please, can we try counseling together? Anything to avoid this.” She thought long about her next words. “You said yourself you were never physical with her. But the fact that you kept lying about her made it very clear she is more than just a hookup.”  

Tears welled up in Jensen’s eyes as he struggled to find the right words. I’ll always love you and will do everything I can to be a good father.” 

Danneel nodded, her own tears falling freely now. “I know you will, Jensen. And I believe you do love me in your way. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. Maybe this was meant to be.” “I’ll talk to a lawyer and start the process,” she said quietly. “We’ll figure out a way to tell the kids together.” 

Jensen nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He watched as she walked away, her figure gradually disappearing from view, taking with her the remnants of their shared dreams. 

The following weeks were a blur of legal meetings and painful conversations. Telling the kids was the hardest part. They sat them down together in the living room, explaining as gently as possible that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be living together anymore but that they both loved them very much. 

Their oldest, confused and heartbroken, asked, “Why can’t you stay together? Don’t you love each other?” 

Danneel, tears streaming down her face, replied, “We do love each other, sweetie. But sometimes, adults need to make hard decisions to make sure everyone is okay.” Jensen added, “We’ll still be a family, just a little different. We’ll both always be here for you, no matter what.” 

Jensen threw himself into his work and focused on being present for his children. He moved to a new apartment nearby to stay close to them, making sure to be involved in their daily lives as much as possible. 

Danneel, too, found a new rhythm. She leaned on her friends and family for support, gradually finding her own sense of peace and independence. 

Sometime later.  

Danneel pushed her cart down the aisle of the local grocery store, her mind occupied with the mundane tasks of everyday life. It had been a few months since she and Jensen had decided to divorce, and while the pain still lingered, she was gradually finding a new sense of normalcy. The kids were adjusting, and she was focused on creating a stable, happy environment for them. 

As she turned into the produce section, she noticed a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. Y/N stood near the apples, looking dishevelled and tired. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and her clothes looked like they had been hastily thrown on. She seemed lost in her thoughts, staring blankly at the fruit in front of her. 

Danneel hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and approached Y/N. Whatever animosity she might have felt was overshadowed by genuine concern. As she got closer, Y/N looked up and their eyes met. There was a flicker of recognition, followed by a wary, almost apologetic look. 

"Y/N?" Danneel said softly. Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Danneel... hi." They stood there for a moment in awkward silence before Danneel spoke again. "I didn’t expect to see you here." 

Y/N shrugged, trying to muster a weak smile. "I eh, work on a project nearby." Danneel studied her for a moment, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the defeated slump of her shoulders. “Are you okay? You look... tired.” 

Y/N sighed, her facade crumbling. ”I’m fine, just long nights shooting you know, thanks for asking.” Clearly trying to avoid this conversation. Danneel nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy. “I can imagine... Listen, I know about you and Jensen. About the calls, text, Greece.” 

“You do?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes,” Danneel said gently. “And I want you to know that Jensen and I have separated. We’re getting a divorce.” Y/N looked shocked, her face paling. “I-I-I had no idea.” 

Danneel was taken aback. She had assumed Jensen would have reached out to Y/N, given the intensity of their connection. “He hasn’t contacted you at all?” 

Y/N shook her head, looking more distressed. “No. I thought... I thought maybe he just needed space to figure things out. But I didn’t know about you two. I’m so sorry, Danneel. I never wanted to come between you.” 

Danneel could see the genuine regret and confusion in Y/N’s eyes. It was clear that she had been just as caught up in the whirlwind as Jensen had. “I believe you, Y/N. And for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you. This situation... it’s complicated.” 

Y/N nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I cared about him, Danneel. But I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Danneel sighed, feeling a strange sense of relief and understanding. “Jensen and I had our issues long before you came into the picture. What happened between you two was a symptom, not the cause.” 

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared pain hanging between them. Finally, Danneel spoke again. “I hope you find the clarity and peace you need, Y/N. We all deserve that.” 

Y/N wiped her eyes, nodding. “Thank you, Danneel. I hope the same for you.” 

As Danneel turned to leave, she felt a sense of closure she hadn’t expected. Seeing Y/N like this, vulnerable and remorseful, had helped her let go of some of the anger and hurt she had been carrying. 

--

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories. If you feel like being tagged too much don't be scared to contact me! <3

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[veryace-ficrecs]

Wolverine Hurt/Comfort Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

tommorow's jokes have yet to be laughed at (or said) by ArchaicVampire - Rated T

“Logan? What are you doing up, mein freund?” Logan thinks up a million things he could say, like I’ll sleep when I’m dead or I was doing my usual midnight pushups, but he doesn’t say any of that. There’s no use bothering him with bullshit excuses. “You’re the only one who understands.” The skeletons in Logan's closet are haunting him again. There's only one man in the mansion that truly knows how he feels.

O Memory, where is now my faith. by justbefeathersandthequietofthefall - Rated T

Logan vs Pain. i.e. Dealing with the fact that superhuman healing doesn't stop getting injured hurting like a bitch.

Call Me by My Name by CNWrites - Rated G

They were misfits on a team of misfits. Logan was used to that kind of crap. If he had put down bets, he would have said that Nightcrawler was the kind of guy who couldn’t take it. Apparently, they were both sticking around. ____________________________ In which we see five times Logan used something other than Kurt's name, and one time he actually used it.

There's a room where the light won't find you by Notsogoodwithnames - Rated T

Logan knows he was made for nothing but war. He never went to school. He never even took care of many children. Not even your own children. He certainly isn't qualified to teach anything that didn't involve the shedding of blood. Xavier saved him. The X-men saved him. Not only from himself but in so many ways than he can explain. Taking care of these kids is not going to fix anything. Or clean his hands, not even a bit, he's aware of that. But if there's a chance that he can do something right, better than anything he ever did, to help these kids have a better chance than he did. Then he's going for it.

So this is what it feels like. by OwBoy - Not Rated

“Sir?” the woman said as she came more into the light. Her shoes made a dull clopping noise with each step she took towards Logan. “Wha…?” Logan asked, his voice slurred. “The girl,” the woman said, nodding toward Laura, “Is she your daughter?” Logan's gaze once again fell on Laura and he nodded. “I thought so,” a slight smile crossed the woman's features as she spoke. “She looks just like you.” “Where…” Logan’s words drifted off as he took in the rest of the room. “Where am I?” he asked. “You’re in Canada,” she answered. “In a refugee town given to mutants by the Canadian government. It’s called Eden.” “Eden.” Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The place he said didn’t exist, the place Laura and the other believed they’d find and make their new home, the place from that stupid comic book, it actually existed. AKA: What if Charles, Logan, and Laura had all made it to Eden alive and started a new life together? Fluff, angst, domestic life, and brewing romance.

The same bell chiming the hour on the clock, and everything changed. by justbefeathersandthequietofthefall - Rated T

He drifted through the hallways, with every recognisable face sending him reeling. A few awkward conversations later, and he was in the Professor’s office having years of history dropped on him. Despite the importance of this, he was barely present in the conversation – a fact which Charles didn’t miss, who told him to go let it all sink in and that they’d continue later. ‘Let it all sink in’?

Fucking hell.

Exploring Logan's mental state after the events of Days of Future Past

Never Take for Granted by CNWrites - Rated G

Kurt Wagner would consider himself a fairly appreciative person. Perhaps that instinctual value of appreciation was the reason he felt giddy, warm, so overcome with love for his friend that he could practically feel it bursting out of his chest. “Don’t move ‘round, elf.” A heavy hand rested on an arm that Kurt hadn’t even realized he was trying to move. “Yer hopped up on morphine, you idiot. Yer gonna break your stitches if ya can’t cool it.” Oh. Or maybe that was why. _______________________ In which Kurt spends some time in the med bay after taking a hit for Wolverine. Luckily, his friend isn't the kind of person to leave his side.

[kittzuxp]

Twomp oneshot i wrote cuz i was feeling miserable

on Ao3

CW: denial😔, cheating, self-destuctive thoughts and suicide

Mr plant was watching the telly, well not really, he was fidgeting with his hands while he heard the faint laugh tracks playing in the background. He was almost drifting off to sleep when the front door slammed, which shook him wide awake. He titled his head to look, it was his boyfriend, Argos! He looked like he was in a hurry, sweaty and taking big shaky breaths. His eyes filled with anger.

*[what happened?] Mr plant felt a little taken aback, Argos had never acted like this.

“You tell me!” He yelled, throwing photos on his lap. Mr plant fumbled with the photos trying to take a good look at them, and was slightly disgusted by the sight.

It was a depiction of him, holding someone else’s hands and looking at them with the same passion and warmth he looked at his beloved. The person’s face was obscured but some leaves of a tree in the foreground. The setting seemed to be at midnight, a single street lamp illuminating him and the other silhouette. The photo seemed to have been taken at a higher perspective, like a window from the second floor of a house.

The other photos were about the same, but the positions were slightly different. mr plant started feeling uneasy, he had never done this with anyone, nor does he remember this happening.

Mr plant felt uneasy, he knew where this was going, he had seen enough romance shows to know what usually happens.

*[Where did you find the photo?]

“It doesn’t matter! That’s you in the pictures, right?”

*[No! I would never cheat on you.]

“Don’t lie to me! It’s definitely you!” Argos sounded tired, but also hurt. So so so hurt.

*[Where did you find this?! Who gave this to you?] He stood up, towering over Argos by a few inches, and grabbed his forearm. Argos winced and looked at Mr plant in the eyes.

“Why does that matter! It’s none of your business!” He insisted and shook his arm, making Mr plant let go of his powerful grip.

*[It IS my business if I’m the one being photographed!] Mr plant didn’t understand why Argos refused to tell him.

“I- uhm.. UGHH!! When were you planning on telling me this?!” His eyes started tearing up from frustration. Mr plant hurt to see him like this, he reached out his lanky hand to Argos’ cheek to wipe the tears. Argos’ eyes wandered on Mr plant’s face after looking away and slapping Mr plant’s hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” He muttered. Mr plant was hurt by this, but obeyed.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Argos spoke up. Mr plant didn’t have time to think, his mind didn’t have enough time to race.

“We, should break up… this relationship. If you’re going to be dishonest.” He said again, with a firm and slightly louder voice.

“…I think..” he sighed and looked at him, “Look, I think this won’t work.”

Mr plant titled his head. Surely he misheard Argos. He hummed questioningly and brought his ear closer to Argos’ mouth.

*[hmm?] Mr plant sounded again, putting his ear closer to Argos. Surely he wasn’t hearing this.

“Mr plant. I’m Breaking up with you.” He really hadn’t misheard it. His face was turned from Argos’ so neither of them could see each other’s faces. Mr plant’s grin widened, his tears flowing hot down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them, leaving an ugly smudge on his face. He turned his face, a crying Argos was there, trying to look as if his own words weren’t affecting him and holding back.

*[You’d really rather believe some photographs than me..?] Argos was quiet, his two big eyes avoiding Mr plant, his other, smaller ones were looking right at him.

———

As soon as he had come, he had left. and Mr plant was alone.

He was too alone, so alone. He sat on his couch and waited. He waited for Argos to come back from work, like he usually did.

The hours passed, Argos didn’t come. But he waited like he always did. He never moved an inch. Soon, 2 days had passed when Mr Plant realised he wasn’t going to come back, come back home. Not HIS home anyways.

What even was he without Argos? Argos was always a very distinguishable person. But all Mr plant was was a cold monster who tried to feel human emotions and failed. He didn’t have a distinct personality nor a unique trait that made him his own person.

He was just a mutated flower from a foreign void. This wasn’t meant to happen to him. Everything that had happen. He was mad at himself, he was mad at Argos but also wasn’t.

Not even once did he think to comfort himself through this. He only blamed himself, it wasn’t Argos’ fault, he only believed at what he saw.

There were too many thoughts racing in his mind, too many for him. He thought his head might explode with how much thoughts he was having. Too many, So so many...

Your fault

your fault

your fault

His hands gripped tighter against his throat. His breaths were beginning to cut short.

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOUR FAULT

YOURFAULT

YOUR-

He gripped tighter.

His vision began to grow faint and his thoughts started to drown out. His Head started to hurt in a good way, a comfortable way that didn’t hurt at all.

He gripped as tight as possible.

He was not longer breathing, gasping for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs. The only thing in his mind were the gasps and yelps. He tried to shut them up too.

After a bit his feet gave up, he fell down and closed his eyes.

“Goodbye Argos, I love you..” He knew nobody would hear that, and took his final rest.

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

Disgrace Chapter 2 : Crosshair x F!OC

Summary:

The transport to Ga'hah is boring, boring, boring, and though Tah'nyem makes to amuse herself with the bristly clone commander she may have bit off more than she can chew, not that she's one to admit it. She attempts to maintain focus and composure while waiting on progress into her own investigations which may reveal more than she's ready to learn. Every one seems to have let down their guard, but not everyone on the ship may be a friend.

Chapter Specific Warnings: Sexual Frustration, Mild Nudity, Explosions, (minor/ side) Death, Protective Crosshair (Professional), Touching, Angst, Defensive Crosshair.

Word Count: 6k+

Dynamic: Princess x Guard, Speed running Co-dependancy, A Mangy Cat and his Aggressive little Chihuahua.

<-Previous Chapter - Read On Ao3 - Next Chapter >

Music Inspo- The Big Empty - Stone Temple Pilots

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Chapter 2

The Big Empty

   There was a joyful buzz to the jokes and idle chatter swirling through the galley. It was just after dinner on the fourth day of our journey and I think being past the halfway point had everyone in good spirits.

The air smelled of caf and I breathed deeply from my own cup nestled in my hands, warming them in the constant chill of the military ship. 

We had dropped from hyperspace and just finished refueling at an Imperial space station. Now we proceed to the edge of the system where we’ll make the final jump to Ga’haiian space.  

I took a sip, and winced. It was still awful, but after that first headache I was willing to get used to the burnt tasting swill provided to the troopers. The Lieutenant’s hospitality seemed to have dried up after that first night. 

It had been an uneventful trip and the soldiers around me were restless and giddy at the thought of wrapping this up quickly. 

“You know, the two of you are gonna have to Kriff or knock it off,”

Well… almost uneventful. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” 

I took another sip of my caf and continued making hard eye contact with the Commander across the room at his usual spot by the dispenser. 

We had been like this for at least twenty minutes. The staring contest was a matter of pride at this point. 

“C’mon, give him a break, Seriously, he's been hoggin’ the barrack fresher the past few nights,”

The clone beside me chuckled. The second day I was here he told me to call him “Halo” and refused to elaborate. 

“He knows where to find me,”

I spoke clearly, pronouncing the words so there was no mistake in reading my lips. 

Crosshair took a big swig from his cup but still didn't look away. 

Your move. 

“The Sociopaths deserve each other,” 

I almost turned to spot whoever muttered but needn’t have bothered reacting. 

A blaster went off, singeing the floor near the offender's boot and he jumped from his stool. 

“KARKen!- You know, shyte like that doesn't help your case!”

Crosshair holstered the sidearm. He never looked away and I felt my thighs squeeze together in a sudden ache. 

Okay. You win this round… again. 

I had been losing ground over the past few days. Even with him managing to stay clear of me somehow on the small ship. When our paths crossed I was usually the one coming away breathless. 

The frustration of losing control of the dynamic was fueling a perverse feeling of loathing that could only be cured by riding that smug face of his.

My mind drifted to yesterday and our little incident. 

I had been sitting on my bunk, torso exposed as I prepared the ceremonial ink to reapply the lines that adorn my arms. 

The ink was finished heating and I picked it up from the plate. 

Carefully, I angled the ink stick to drip onto my shoulder, hissing at the familiar bite of the heat as it made contact.

The first bead carved a channel as I carefully guided it down the length of my arm to the tip of my middle finger where it dripped off onto the cloth I had laid out for the purpose. 

More drops now and  they followed the trail already blazed, thickening the line and hue into a deep black. The ink pooled under my fingernail, dying the tip. Perfect.  

I repeated the process on my other arm and finished the adornment with the proper prayers. 

“Ehv’net tohomne ku.”

…

“What does it mean?”

I nearly jumped from my skin, having been so engrossed I missed the tell tale clang of the door. 

That door was supposed to be locked… especially since someone doesn't know how to knock.

I looked over my shoulder at the clone commander framed in the doorway. 

“Let me think a moment…I suppose, indirectly, it would mean something like ‘Lines that feed the heart’,”

He stepped forward and lifted my arm to inspect the dark, even line and my breath caught in my throat.

I wonder if he missed something…

My chest was bare, the smallish curve of my breasts exposed. He hasn't seemed to notice, busy inspecting the line work. 

I made no move to cover myself, but cleared my throat softly…

He turned at the apprehensive tone and froze, eyes making their way down my bare arm to the small, rosey peaks standing stiff in the cold room. His fingers tightened on my wrist.

“You threaten my handiwork…”

He released my arm and I expected him to run off again but I felt his cool, slender fingers go back to tracing the lines of ink starting from my elbow and up. He paused at the shoulder…

My voice came out husky, the trailing fingers leaving raised bumps along my skin. 

"Lines that feed the heart?"

“Something like that…”

“I see… Your dinner is ready.”

He turned on a heel and left the room with a clang. 

…

My eyes refocused and present Crosshair still had me in his sights. 

The corner of his mouth twitched knowing my mind wasn't on our little staring match any more. A final swig of caf and he was gone. Off to do whatever it was he did around here. 

I sat straight and hauty and mad as hell. 

The jig was completely up and the soldiers around me chuckled at the heat blooming around my ears. I had lost whatever hold I might've had on them and I wasn't sure if it was my obvious drooling over their Commander or the fact that I got zapped trying to pry the caf machine apart.

Hard to hold an air of mystique while bawling your eyes out. 

I swirled my caf miserably, still convinced it was engine byproduct. 

Halo noticed my expression and patted my shoulder causing me to sit straighter as he accidentally sent a surge of tingles down my spine into my groin. I suppressed the gasp that wanted to leap from me. 

I need to get out of here. 

I smiled at the men gathered at the table and bowed an excuse darting into the hall amid a chorus of farewells. 

Jogging a few paces as I left the galley, I put some distance between myself and the happy chatter. This brought me past the bridge and I glanced inside. 

Lieutenant Hervos turned and glared at me so I stuck my tongue out at him and moved on. I had given him no reason to make good on his threats, mostly behaving around the crew. 

Mostly…

The bug I planted will run out of memory and loop tonight. I need to get it before that happens, but I have time. I pulled the small data pad from my inner pocket and double checked the timer. 

Plenty of time

Still, I'm glad I gave myself a six hour buffer. 

With nothing to do I continued down the hall to where it looped back to the main room I had entered the ship through. 

Other staff milled about, poking and prodding at lit panels around the room. They were actually busy, unlike the troopers, and I left them continuing through. A flat topped hat looked up and gave me a small wave. I returned the greeting, granting the woman a small smile.

“Kerna, in good spirits?”

“Sure Miss Ra! Almost back on solid ground again,”

The plump girl had expressed a displeasure of spacecraft during a jittery cup of caf that had apparently been her first. She also admitted that she was looking for an early out to her contract for more than a nervousness towards the vastness of space. 

“I didn't sign up to be a conqueror…”

I hadn't asked what her last assignment was but it had apparently been rough. I was starting to see a pattern developing amongst the staff. That might be good for business…

“Sit with me during break again tomorrow, I’d love to chat again before we disembark,”

She nodded and I continued through. There was nowhere to go though, and nothing to do. 

Besides the Commander everything else on the ship was a bit of a bore. So… official. As it was, it felt as if I was simply here and not the subject of the mission. I felt like I was circling a drain. 

Though it could just be how small the damn thing is.

I had once again reached the door of my stateroom. There wasn't even a holodeck onboard. 

Hesitating, I leaned against the wall and weighed my options. 

By Be’llahl, I do NOT want to spend another evening stuck in my room with only my fingers for company. 

Things weren't helped that I've made no progress on figuring out why I'm here to begin with. Besides the bug, there's been no other head way; as anyone who might be in the know developed lock jaw whenever I walked in. 

Antsy from the lack of real purpose I shoved off and headed to the hall's access to the maintenance tunnel and slipped through the suspiciously unlocked door. 

The low hum of the darker hallway closed around me like a comforting blanket. It's funny… how these kinds of places seem to be the same everywhere. 

I smiled at that, thoughts on being a teen and hiding with my best friend to smoke Dahr Root in the crevice beneath the gala hall floor. 

Young and unsupervised…

I looked around at the dark tunnel.

Story of my life.

With no real reason I started forward, planning on pacing around to just kill time before the bridge cleared out.

 Not too far down I tripped over something on the floor and stumbled, catching myself on the wall and turning to look at the sudden obstacle.

It was a boot, attached to a leg as expected and finally my eyes flicked to Crosshair, who blinked, trying to hide that he had been asleep. 

Ah hah…

I had looked for him in the tunnels before but I guess he had kept moving before now. I slid down the wall to sit across from him, our legs beside each other's crisscrossing across the passage. 

“Didn't you just finish a caf?”

He gave up the charade and rubbed his face with a hand, scratching the stubble coming in on his jaw.

“It doesn't help.”

He said it simply, and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and sticking a new toothpick between his lips. 

“Why don't you just go to your bunk? It's not like you guys are working right now.”

He briefly fixed me with a look of annoyance. 

“I don't sleep around the Regs.”

His tone didn't invite further prying and I looked about the hall till the mood shifted back to something more neutral. 

I once again felt that annoying pity for the man, observing the dark circles under his eyes. This would be such a good time to mess with him too…

…

Maybe a little…

I nudged his hip with the toe of my boot. 

“You wanna massage?”

He raised an eyebrow at that. 

“No.”

“Oh come now, nothing too intrusive.”

I slid to sit even with his knees and reached for his right hand. 

“Your hands are important to your work...and this is part of my craft, let me help,”

He didn't resist but shot me an incredulous look as I turned his palm to myself and rubbed through its center with my thumbs,circling a few times before moving to the fingers. The somewhat intimate contact was coiling him a little tighter as he tried to keep his guard up. 

“Relax, just let me work,”

“I wasn't aware a governor's daughter…”

He trailed off but I kept him fixed in my gaze, brow raised at the question he had bitten back. 

“I know everything my workers know, it's respectful to know what you ask of someone,”

“So… are you… you do…?”

It was funny, watching him start and stop as he struggled with the messy topic. Poor thing. Though it was a job like any other I guess it was still awkward to ask someone if they were a whore.  

“On the menu? No. Clientele wouldn't see me as an authority that way,”

Chiding as I stretched the digits, I took note of the calluses on his trigger finger and palm, thick enough to feel through the thin gloves. They belayed the countless hours he spent honing his skills. An intrusive thoughts to what they might feel like against more sensitive flesh sent a sudden shudder through me.  

Searching his face to check if he noticed, I found his eyes sliding along the ink lines tracing the backs of my hands and then, flicking down to my chest, nearly invisible under the sweater.

I smiled softly at that, stopping my purposed stroking to bring his knuckles to my lips, catching his breath where it was. 

Finally, a point for me,

…

“This can’t happen, princess,” 

“So you keep saying, what is it? Because it's not that you don't find me captivating,”

He looked vaguely amused at the accusation, but closed his eyes and sighed deeply. 

“It just doesn't happen. Your kind and mine.”

Now it was my turn to be amused, thinking back to some well known “secrets” in the underworld about certain senators. No… “fraternizing” with soldiers was all too common. It was kept rather hush-hush, everyone looking the other way. Perhaps he has a point. 

I scooted back to slump against the wall next to him, defeated. 

“Didn’t mark you as such a stickler for protocol.” 

He was quiet for a moment.

“If it was just some time in the brig I would’ve had you that first night.”

The admission was barely a whisper, but it sent a warmth through me and I swam in the memory of him standing over me with threat and promise written into every muscle fiber. 

What do they have over you…

He put a hand on the top of my head in a patronizing move that made me huff. 

“I still have work to do, and that means not stepping on toes for a while,”

Revoke your clearance for duty maybe?

“You already had to take on your own squad, what more could they ask of a man…”

The words had been that of pity, but it hadn't occurred to me that I wasn't supposed to know such things. A pained look flickered across him.

“Who-?”

I had dug out of Halo that the Commander had once been in a crew with other enhanced clones. They apparently absconded when the new Empire was formed and no one really knew why. They're the ones that gave him the red, twisted scar that now spread over his right ear. He had apparently gotten the best of them in the end though.

“I’m sorry, the Lieutenant-” 

I started but he cut me off, his words uncharacteristically rushed. 

“To make things clear, My squad ar-were traitors…to the Empire…”

He trailed off, the weight of the burden suddenly more clear. No wonder he wasn't sleeping. 

“Seems cruel to have had you done it… if you ask me,”

He was still, mouth parting occasionally as if to add something. Eventually he settled on:

“A good soldier follows orders,”

It was a weak response, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

“... I was hoping they'd come back,”

“I'm sorry… really,”

…

“Forget it, Knowing too much can get you killed, princess…”

I let the subject fall. Obviously a heavy topic, and didn't have much to do with our present predicament. 

We sat quietly a few beats and my mind wandered back to the bug in the bridge. 

“Hey, What were your orders for this mission? … For me?”

I was hedging that he'd tell me anything, but while we're getting personal…

“Standard escort, Coruscant to Ga’hah,” 

He leaned his head back again, closing his eyes. The tension had broken, and he allowed a smirk to shine through the gloom.

“And hands off,”

There was a playfulness to that last bit and I couldn't help but smirk myself. 

“So that’s official orders then, not a general ‘don't Kriff the guests?’”

“Uh huh.”

I sighed, amused.

Guess Vah’hadarr warned them himself, Be’llahl save me. 

“Though,”

He continued hesitantly,

“I thought we were taking all three of you, That bit changed as soon as we got to your dock, new orders straight from Hervos,”

Well, isn't that suspicious…

I glanced at my data pad. Almost an hour had passed and it was time to check the bridge again. The sooner I got my device back the better. 

I tapped his shoulder affectionately and stood. Perhaps I should leave him be… 

I could really get him in trouble I suppose.

It bothered me that I cared, but as I kept telling myself, this was different. He has no choice in being trapped here any more than I did, and it's no fun poking a caged animal. 

I turned to leave and he looked up as if about to ask where I was off too, deciding against it, and settled back against the wall. 

Sleep tight, tough guy. 

I followed the path with the thicker tubing back to the end of the hall near my destination. 

Good … they cleared out. 

Slipping into the empty bridge, I walked quickly to the center console and ran my hand under the key bed. 

There you are!

I hit the stop button and extracted the recording device slipping it into my pocket. 

Mission complete, hours to spare! Now back to my room to-

The door slid open with a swish and I stiffened briefly before forcing a more relaxed pose. 

I can be here if I want. 

I stayed looking forward to the array of stars and distant planets setting my chin defiantly even though the intruder couldn't see my face… or managed to challenged me in any way yet. 

Sighing instead, I tried to relax for real. I was just on edge and should probably just see who's here. 

Before I could turn I felt the heat of them against my back and once again panic crept into my heart, causing me to hesitate before thrusting my elbow back against them. 

My armature strike was easily caught. 

“Princess…”

His voice was low and familiar, though tinged with a growl of real frustration. 

“Comand-?”

It was sudden, but I was pinned to the console, his hips holding me against the buttoned counter tight and still. I felt his fingers slide over my waistband and into my pants pocket roughly caressing the line between my thigh and vulva as he slid against the inner fabric. 

The unexpected contact elicited a shameful whimper from me as I pressed back against him desperate and involuntarily. 

His fingers closed around the small metal square in my pocket, carefully withdrawing it and holding it up to the light. 

“These are dangerous games you play,”

His words were dead serious, and I was trying to sober myself. 

Shyte…

I struggled now, trying to turn around or push him off me. 

“Wait! Give it back, you don't understand!”

He stepped away, holding the bit of metal aloft to glint in the starlight. 

“You're arrogantly sticking your nose where it doesn't belong with no care for consequence, is there something else to… understand?”

I feel like that was the longest sentence I've heard from him. Too bad it was so… upset?

Turning my palms up I leaned back in a submissive gesture. 

“Think about it, please?”

I bit my lip, trying to get the words right. 

“It doesn't make sense, you must see that right?”

He didn't move but his stern expression lost some of its assured-ness so I plunged ahead. 

“Why are you here? Elite Imperial Soldier, playing babysitter to the biggest brat on Coruscant, this can't have been the most convenient way to transfer troops and my Vah'hadarr isn't that high of a priority,”

“In case something goes wrong…”

“What could possibly go wrong?”

He looked askance at that and I corrected myself. 

“No… why would something happen? I'm no one and yet I've been whisked off with out warning under heavy guard,”

I pointed up to the recording device.

“Let's go back to my quarters and listen, together… they've had to have let something slip,”

“Conversations like these get people killed, princess,”

It was the second time he felt the need to warn me. He lowered his hand to look at the little device, thoughts etched across his brow as he tried to make up his mind. 

“Let's go to the dining area, It's probably clear by now,”

“Isn't that a little public?”

I was hesitant to go over the recordings somewhere so open. 

“Once it's empty it’ll be empty all night, Less implications if someone does stumble upon us,”

So that's what that's about. 

I wasn't comfortable with the idea but I didn't argue, following him out.  

Getting caught recording the Lieutenant apparently wasn't as bad as getting caught alone in my room and I rolled my eyes.

I don't even have a body guard usually…

Such protective actions weren't the norm for my father, and an official hands off has never been explicitly issued; the illusion of availability is a part of the role I play after all… Besides being tied up sitting in on his meetings, my father didn't care much what I did as long as I showed up for the expected social events. 

I played with the thought of inviting the troop of soldiers to the “Welcome Home” gala and grinned a little.

What talk that would be. 

We wandered into the galley, which was indeed empty, and sat at one end of the long table. 

I laid my data pad down and took out a jack, motioning for the device Crosshair still had on him. 

He slid it over and I plugged it in, pulling up the audio waves on a projection and sliding the measure to the first peak signaling voices had been picked up. I double checked the volume and pressed play. 

The cranky tone of the lieutenant was the first voice on the recording. 

“Good morning everyone,”

His tone was bored and tired, followed by a chorus of monotone acknowledgements and usual reports. Nothing of note. 

I fast forwarded. The waved dipped and rose again and I let it play. 

Idle chit chat. 

I was already growing impatient and started trying to figure out where and when in the time line would be best to prioritize. I didn't want to be stuck scouring every hour and conversation, and I dragged the measure to a pattern in the waves where even, lower peaks where periodically punctuated by spikes in volume. 

I was right, the bridge was taking a transmission. 

“I have to thank you Lieutenant, such a change in the escort can't have been easy to swing,”

It was my father's voice, and I adjusted the volume to listen. 

“No need Governor, it's a shame the girl may have put herself in harm's way, but this should go… unnoticed,”

“Ah yes well, she's a spirited one, I'm trusting you to keep her in line while she's aboard, away from those… things,”

I raised my brow at what he could mean by that, never having heard such contempt in his voice. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Nyem-tok, everyone here… knows their place,”

“I trust you made the extra arrangements we discussed,”

“Yes, extra precautions have been taken, but I assure you, we have everything under control here,”

“Yes well, I'll leave it to you, Lieutenant, Safe travels,”

I stopped the playback and thought for a moment. 

“What could you have gotten yourself into?”

I jumped, having forgotten I wasn't alone. 

I wracked my brain, going over the most recent meetings I had sat through. Nothing suspicious. Well, nothing that would concern anyone important.  

I scanned the audio scape again, jumping ahead to the next section of peaks.

Standard operations.

The next. 

Chatter.

I skipped through looking for any other patterns that might be significant. 

Near the end I somewhat gave up on anything else emerging, letting a dumb conversation play about the efficiency of different engine cores and put my forehead on the table, sighing in disappointment.

The recording played the sound of the door swishing open and the voices halted for a moment. The swish of the door shutting again. 

“I'll be happy to be free of the little whore,”

Chuckles and a return to the previous conversation, apparently that was me looking in earlier. 

My face flushed in anger and I looked up, a little embarrassed Crosshair had heard that, and then another wave of irritation. 

I don't get embarrassed.

My eyes met his over the projection of audio waves from my data pad. His brow was furrowed, mirroring my distemper and oddly enough it was comforting. 

“Well then, might as well set things and get yourselves some dinner, We'll be on the last leg tomorrow, you're dismissed,”

Murmurs. Shuffling. Silence again. 

I slid my finger to the next peak. 

A burst of lewd moans and slapping erupted from the recording and I scrambled to end the playback, fumbling the small bit of metal in panic. 

I forgot I picked it up after that! 

I had also never wiped the original data which was…

The sounds cut off with a gasp and a protest. 

“Give us the room,”

It was my father's voice again and I stopped my frantic attempts at turning it off, lifting my face to look at the clone sitting and listening with me. 

He seemed unaffected by the unintentional porny outpouring, but was focused on the recording now with a dangerous looking intensity. 

“Thank you for keeping this discreet, Nyem-tok, your cooperation is greatly appreciated, How are the preparations?”

The voice was vaguely familiar, then my father's voice again. 

“We have the location refitted and secured with the requested alternative entrances and a new stock of male and female imports for his excellence to choose from,”

“Wonderful, your services have always been top notch, I would be correct in assuming they all fit his usual… proclivities?”

“It's been harder to find the sensitive ones since the end of the war, but I'm sure his excellence will be pleased with the variety,”

“Superb, We'll schedule arrangements to make the necessary selectio-,”

The jagged lines of audio died into a flat line and was done. I started breathing again, only now registering that I had stopped. 

This conversation felt familiar, father talking to someone in hushed tones, abnormally taking a meeting at a room in The Crown.

“What does your father do, again?”

“He-... He controls most, if not all, the bordellos on Ga’hah, Coruscant now too…,”

He snatched the bug from the audio jack and tucked it into his belt. 

“Hey!”

“Where did you get this?”

“At the club, in the office by the rest of the contraband,”

“Did anyone see you take it?”

“No… I don't think so? Why would it matter?” 

They wouldn't have had too, I'm one of the only people with access.

“No one's ever blinked at someone using our services before! It's not exactly juicy black mail,”

We both sat silent a moment. 

I could protest but couldn't deny the conspiratorial sound of the conversation we had just heard. As far as I knew, we weren't working on any current projects… officially at least. I would have had to file for the permits.

“His excellence,”

Vah’hadarr what have you agreed to?

I've gone over plans with him for new clubs but we've never passed the term “stock” around. We build or remodel, then hire from one of the agencies my father helped establish. The only stocking we did was the bars but that wasn't exactly back room talk and most liquors didn't have a sex. 

My stomach was starting to sink as a fissure began to spread in my naive views of the world. I didn't like this. 

Crosshair turned to leave and I stood.

“Wait, you can't take that!”

“It's too dangerous for you to have, Pretend you never even heard it,”

I reached for him hooking his belt and attempting to turn him back. 

Without much warning he had me by the shoulders and pushed into the wall, mirroring our first night in the hallway.

“Forget. It. Now.”

His fingers were digging into me and funny enough, I already wasn't thinking about it anymore, completely focused on how close his face was, his hot breath caressing my cheek. I reached up to cup his jaw with my hands. 

“Why don't you make me forget then?”

It slipped out, I had lost focus…

And just when I decided to knock it off with him. 

His eyes searched my face for a moment, surprised at the real lust that glinted back at him. 

…

“You're going to get me killed,” 

His voice was strained, but he released me and escaped from the galley. 

Guess I'll go to bed alone… again.

~~~

Clang

Half awake… hands on my skin, heavy breathing… no.

I'm alone. 

There was a rustle behind me and I realized why I had woken from my heavy, muddled dreaming. 

Not alone…

I forced my breathing to slow, maintaining the illusion that I was asleep and listened. 

Rummaging. Something soft falling to the floor… my bag!

I flipped out of the bed and threw my shoulder in the direction I remembered leaving the practical travel pack on the floor. 

Oof

I connected, and the figure fell to the side from where they were balanced over my possessions. 

The voice sounded feminine and the slight figure was scrambling back to their feet faster than I was. I was stuck on my own nightgown, and struggled to unpin myself when a sudden blaze of pain snapped across my jaw as the intruder's boot connected with my face. 

Kriffing… stars..

Sparkles bloomed in my eyes, filling the dark room and another clang rang out as they fled. 

You better run.

I was trying to sooth the intense ache settling in my jaw as I threw the scattered articles back into my pack and slung it over my shoulder, following them out into the hall.

Shyte, where the Kark did the nerf go?

I ran left towards the crew cabins, hitting the panel buttons on the doors I passed searching for someone awake along the way.

“Lieutenant!”

I started beating on doors and picked up speed, the sleepy daze that clung to me with abnormal persistence finally leaving my brain completely, letting the severity of the situation sink in. 

“Lieutenant Hervos!”

I was shouting now, desperate to wake the sleeping ship. 

I thought about the navigation crew, there were a few smaller people on staff that might match the profile I saw in the dark but it was hard to imagine any of them looking through my negligee. 

The other possibility, that an outsider managed to find us out here, sent a chill through me. We were still in the halfway system, yet to jump. Easy enough to board. 

I had reached the barrack and started hammering on the door frame when a hand grabbed my wrist, spinning me around. 

“What happened?” 

It was Crosshair, his helmet tucked under his other arm and guns hooked over his back. He must've been awake and heard me coming. 

“Someone was going through my things,”

I jostled the bag dangling from my shoulder to emphasize, but my voice was soft and breathy. The panic I hadn't acknowledged was finally settled in and was making me gasp for air. 

The color draining from his face under the professional expression didn't help. 

Good to know the implication isn't lost on you either. 

He reached past me to the panel by the barrack door and quickly tapped out a code.

A siren started to sound, accompanied with an ominous red light, and the confused shuffling in the barracks that started from my clamoring became purposeful and urgent. 

It wasn't long before Halo appeared at my elbow, tired but alert and looking for direction from his Commander. 

“Intruder in our guest’s quarters. Organize your squad and search the ship. Move.”

Without even a pause, I was being steered away down the hall. We were now set upon by a harried looking Hervos quickly approaching us as we made our way back to the loading platform of the ship. 

“Commander, explain yourself.”

“We've been compromised. I'm initiating nesting protocol,”

Nesting protocol? 

“I don't think that's necess-”

Hervos was cut off by a loud bang and rumble from the port side of the ship. 

I didn't see his reaction, having been swept up and carried swiftly past the few rushing, panicked people in the halls. 

We turned into what looked like the Lieutenant's quarters, where I was set down among the personal artifacts. The room was nicer than mine. 

“We're leaving.”

I didn't argue though a dozen questions flooded me. Mainly, how?

“Shouldn't we be at the shuttles then?”

He didn't answer, instead ripping open a panel near the cabins storage cabinets and tapping another hurried code that sank the whole section of wall into the floor, revealing a small pod. 

It didn't look like it had any sort of navigation nor like it was meant for two people. 

Crosshair was already in and pulling me to him, holding me tight as he hit another button, and we were off. 

The whole thing had taken seconds and I still wasn't sure what was happening. The ship shuddered and rumbled again as the pod snapped shut and we were jettisoned from the ship. 

As we left the shell of the transport the empty quiet of space enveloped the tiny shuttle leaving us in eerie silence punctuated by the beeps and clicks of mechanical systems working to keep us alive. 

“Where is it taking us?”

I whispered, but it still sounded too loud. My heart beat was too loud. His breathing, too loud. Too close. 

An internal shield had wrapped around us, crushing us together and away from the walls. 

“It'll target the nearest body with a breathable atmosphere.”

The shields weren't enough to completely mask the inertia of hurtling through the void and I turned all my concentration to not focusing on the forces being exerted on my form.

Seconds. Minutes? And then the silence was broken by a dull roar. 

We were starting to break atmosphere, who knows where. The ship was passing a cluster of moons on its way to the next jump point, it could be heading to any of them. 

The dull roar became a full rush, broken by booms reverberating as the pod made shock waves on its descent. 

A wave of blue began to pulsate through the systems surrounding us as layer and layer of shields began to wrap around the rapidly falling pod. 

I felt sick from the turbulence as each shield slowed our descent, pushing back against gravity, bringing us down in nauseating bounces. There was a whoosh, sounding like something inflating around us.

In a final crash there was a loud ripping sound and our true speed made itself known, sliding for quite some time. The foreign landscape made a rough, grinding cacophony against the hull of our safety.

When the screeching, rolling chaos stopped I was laying disheveled on Crosshair's armored chest plate. The pod tinked and clicked as the metal cooled. He yanked a lever down, popping the door open and helping me out on shaking legs. 

I turned to the sky and, in horror, took in the sight above me. 

A radial burst of fiery explosion hung in the distance, no doubt our ship. 

“Did they make it?” 

The question was nonsense. He knew as much as I did. 

“Probably not…”

There was no emotion in it. 

I thought of Kerna, afraid of flying…and Halo, hope he wasn't living up to his namesake. I hadn't even learned the other’s… hadn't asked. 

Guilt sunk in at that until I was snapped back to the present situation with a rough tug and a raspy,

“We need to move,”

But I was transfixed.

“How did this…”

I was picked up again, pulled away from the sky stained with fire.

“I warned you, princess…”

I could hear the remorse in it now…

“Conversations Kill.”

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @cryptic-michael, @onedirectionlovers2014

chapter 3

warnings: swearing, era accurate sexism and misogyny and bigotry, arguing

Ace woke up with a groan, trying to bury his head further into my neck. He stilled as he seemed to realize he wasn’t alone. Slowly pulling back, ace opened his eyes to stare back at me. His confused ones met my panicked ones before drifting down to just below my neck. I watched as his eyes widened and he rolled onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes; other arm searching off the side of the bed.

“here.” Ace mumbled, trying to save us both the headache from our hangovers. “Put this on.” I mumbled my thanks as I threw his shirt on.

“You can look now.” I said softly as I tugged the shirt down to cover me fully. Ace peeked out at me from under his arm and I had to bite back the laugh that bubbled up. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. “Regretting everything?” I asked, sadness in my voice.

“no.” Ace said. “Regretting drinking so much that I can’t even remember doing it.”

“oh.” I muttered, heading towards the little kitchenette and starting breakfast. “Want something to eat? Might help the hangover.” Ace made a noise of agreement and I heard him moving around behind me, no doubt finding his pants and getting dressed. I heard a drawer open and turned in time to see ace pulling a white tshirt over his head. “I didn’t know you kept clothes here.” Ace smirked at me.

“for every occasion.” He joked. “I did tell you I used to live up here.” I nodded as I went back to making breakfast. We worked silently next to each other and sat down to eat. When I got up to start the dishes, ace put his hand over mine “Hey. Are we going to talk about what clearly happened?” I frowned and looked over at him. Ace sighed and gently pulled me over to my couch.

“Let’s just pretend nothing happened ace.” I breathed out. “It’s not like we could go out anyway. Not without someone figuring out my secret.” Ace shook his head.

“yeah we could.” He said. “There are ways we could sneak around. I used to do things like that all the time. It’s easy if you know what you’re doing.” He reached over and grabbed my hands again. “Look (Y/N), I like you. I’ve liked you since I met you. And you know your shit. How could I not like you?” Ace smiled softly at me and I shook my head, trying to fight the urge to cry because ace was being too sweet.

“I’m sorry ace…” I said, looking up at him with watery eyes. “I don’t feel…” ace cut me off with a kiss; one that had me trailing after him when he pulled away.

“that says differently sweetheart.” He breathed out, cupping my cheeks. “We’d find a way to make it work.” I grabbed his wrists and held tightly.

“ace, I’m not prepared for what could happen if we slip up.” I said. Ace watched me carefully. “One of two things happens.” He nodded. “Either my secret is out and I lose my job. I can’t pay rent and I end up on the street somewhere or worse back at the diner with men sticking their hands up my skirt.” Ace shook his head and I reached out to cup his cheeks, rubbing my thumb over his stubble.

“I wouldn’t let them.” I smiled at him as he stared me down.

“you can’t be at the diner all day and night ace. You have a business to run.” I said softly.

“And the other…thing?” Ace asked. I frowned and focused on the feeling of aces stubble against my palms. “(Y/N)?”

“people will…” I started. “They’ll think…” ace waited patiently for me to finish. The memories of what it had been like even in my time played through my head. “People will say you’re…”

“say I’m what?” Ace asked softly.

“gay.” I whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. We sat in silence for a beat before ace spoke up.

“they already think that.” He said, releasing my head. His hands fell to his lap and ace shrugged. “Eyeball and I…we live together. For years now. We…our home lives were never great. And after pop died…” I finally looked up at ace. “Eyeball was the only one who believed me when I said some twilight zone shit happened. We’ve always relied on each other for everything. It’s why when I opened the garage I hired him right away. The first chambers to make something of himself. Eyeball had been there for me when no one else way. Let me borrow his clothes. Sleep in my car in his driveway.” Ace finally looked up at me. “I’m not liked in castle rock. Either because of what I did as a teen, earning the title juvenile delinquent, or because…”

“they think you’re gay.” I finished. “Ace why didn’t you say anything?” He smiled at me.

“didn’t want you to believe it either.” He said, closing himself off slightly. I leaned forward and kissed him.

“Does that prove I don’t believe it?” I asked, leaning my forehead against his. Ace smiled at me again, leaning in to kiss me again. “But ace…I don’t want my secret to get out. And I don’t want you to feel like crap if people believe it really is true this time…”

“I don’t care what those assholes think.” Ace shot back. I smoothed my hand over the back of his head.

“yes you do.” Ace opened his mouth to respond but I beat him to it. “As much as you as you don’t, you care what those sons of bitches say.” Ace shut his mouth and I pulled back. “I’m sorry ace. It isn’t I didn’t have fun or enjoy it. If the way I woke up this morning is any indication, I enjoyed it a lot. I just couldn’t live with myself if…” ace nodded.

“I get it.” He pulled away from me completely. Standing up, ace went to grab the rest of his things. “I’ll get out of your hair. Just…” ace paused to run a hand through his hair and laughed. “I want you to know it meant something to me. Even if I can’t remember it.” Ace headed towards the door and paused. “Do you want me to go?” I stood up and hugged myself, pulling the collar of the shirt up to my nose. I stared at him as he nodded and went to grab the door handle. When ace had stepped out the door, I stepped forward.

“Ace!” I called. He turned around and poked his head back in. “Please stay.” I whispered. Ace nodded and came back over to hug me. “We’ll figure this out. I just don’t…” ace pulled back to kiss me.

“It’s alright.” He promised. “I’ll take care of you.” I nodded and ace pulled me back into him.

“just one question.” I said softly. “The guys will be showing up about now. How are we going to explain this to them?” Ace froze for a second and pulled back to cup my cheeks.

“do you trust them enough with this secret?” He asked, brushing his hand down my back where the wrap should be sitting. “Think they can keep it?” I thought for a second before nodding. “then we’ll go down in an hour and tell them.”

“why an hour?” I asked. Ace smirked at me and leaned down to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

“because I want to remember last night.” Ace said, kissing me deeply to stop my laugh.

[losfacedevil]

Change // SFK (Pt 3)

a/n ~ Who’s ready for another installment? Let’s take these babes outside of the market setting, shall we? Word Count: 2.7k

Her heart sank when she realized the forecast hadn’t been yanking her chain. 

She stood in the bay window that graced the expanse of one living room wall, watching the droplets of rain race each other down to the sill below. A huff of breath escaping her as her mind began playing tricks on her; making her believe every car that drove by was his. 

Her eyes fluttered shut, pulling a deep breath in through her nose as memories she wished to forget engulfed all of her senses. 

He would constantly accuse her of cheating, knowing full well she didn’t have friends let alone the mental capacity to cheat. Damning words always slipping past his lips whenever he was mad. 

“Tell your other boy I said hi.” 

“Who you talking to, huh? Your boy toy?”

“You always switch apps when I walk by like that’s not sketchy. You’re so fucking sketchy.” 

“You always say no, you never do what I want to, you ruin everything.” 

“You don’t want sex? Who you have over last night then, huh?”

“You wanna relax? That’s all you ever do, you don’t clean for shit.”

“You can’t wear that outside of the house, only whores wear skirts and dresses. Stop acting like you’re single.”

Her blood began to boil as her mind reeled, everything he had ever done pouring from the recesses of her mind. Shaking her head of the thoughts she made her way into her bedroom and yanked open the closet door. Eyes scanning everything in the forbidden section looking for the perfect dress. The flowy summery dress stared her in the face, a purchase she had made thinking he’d love just for him to shoot her down. 

“It’s too short, you can’t wear it out of the house.” 

Something that pained her every time she just wanted to look nice. Her eyes danced over the dress, the little flowers embroidered on the skirt jumping out at her as she pulled it off of the hanger. 

~*~*~

Her Uber dropped her off in front of the restaurant they used to frequent, one she wasn’t sure she had the courage to waltz herself into. With a soft sigh she smoothed her skirt and pulled the door open, her favorite hostess hovering by the podium. 

“Hey babe! Long time no see, table for two?” A solemn expression kissed her features, bowing her head slightly a she shook it. 

“No, just me.” She raised her shoulders in a shrug, eyes meeting the hostess and conveying a silent message. The hostess nodded gently, plucking a single menu from the podium before nodding her head in a beckoning way. 

Sam sat at the bar, stretching his back out over the back of the chair as his brother rambled on beside him. His eyes dancing along the ceiling tiles, lost in his own mind. He couldn’t shake her from his thoughts, her face plaguing his mind as he wondered if she was okay. He knew nothing about her, didn’t know her story or where she came from. All he knew was that he wanted to know her, to know her story and inner workings, what made her tick. 

“You’re not even listening are you?” Josh droned on, his eyes boring holes into Sam’s side profile. A sigh slipped past his lips as he rolled his eyes and reached up to snap his fingers in Sam’s face. The younger boy shook his head, turning his attention back to his brother. 

“Wait what happened?” Sam reached up to rub his eyes, trying to refocus his thoughts. 

“I asked if you were coming to the graduation party moms throwing once I’m done with school but clearly the ceiling is more important.” Josh scoffed, throwing his hands around as he spoke. Sam shrugged his shoulders, letting his head fall back again. 

“Who knows, mom has parties for everything.” He lifted his hands up, cracking his knuckles as his focus drifted back to the thoughts bouncing around his head. But something caught his ear, the soft tinkling voice he knew belonged to her. He turned his head slightly, catching the way her hair flowed behind her as she walked with the hostess. 

Sam scrambled to right himself in his seat, turning fully to see where she was going to be seated. A soft smile grew across his face as his eyes danced over the length of her figure. The dress she wore hugging her curves in all the right places and the skirt billowed out around her as she spun on her heel. She took her seat and nodded at the waitress as she placed a menu in front of her. The smile slipping off Sam’s face as he realized how sad she truly looked. 

“Space Cadet!” Josh yelled, snapping his fingers in Sam’s ears to gain his brothers attention. Sam tilted his head slightly, shoving his ear in Josh’s direction as he kept his eyes trained on her. 

“Who is that and why does she look like a sad CEO who makes a six figure paycheck in that dress?” Josh asked, his gaze following that of Sam’s and landing on her. 

“That’s the girl! The one from the market I was telling you about. She looks… she looks so sad.” His voice was but a whisper, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he turned his attention back to Josh. 

“The one that came back to see you last week? That’s her?” Sam nodded, raising his hand to flag down the bar tender. Josh watched as Sam placed an order for a peach sangria, tossing his thumb over his shoulder at her. Josh raised a brow watching as his little brother paid for the drink and watched with careful eyes as the bartender poured it and walked it over. Sam turned slightly in his seat, watching from the corner of his eye. 

“Peach sangria for the misses.” The bar tender cooed, placing the drink down in front of her. She cocked her head to the side, shaking it gently.

“Oh no, I haven’t ordered anything yet. That isn’t mine.” A soft but sad smile spread across her face as she locked gazes with the bar tender. The woman shrugged, turning slightly to point in the direction of the bar. 

“Young man with the long hair bought it for you. Enjoy.” She cooed, making her way back over to the bar. 

Sam turned to look at her, a shy smile spreading across her face as her gaze met his and her shot her a cheeky wink. She reached up, tucking her hair behind her ear as she averted her gaze to the drink in front of her.

“You can’t just send her a drink and not go sit with her.” Josh mumbled, pulling out his phone and firing off a quick text before rising to his feet. 

Sam’s eyes grew wide as Josh walked away, unsure of what to do in the situation he now found himself in.  He pulled a deep breath in through his nose as he stood, straightening the button up shirt that adorned his torso before pushing in the bar stool and sauntering ever so slowly over to where she sat. He rested his hand on the back of the empty chair sat in front of her, his eyes never leaving her face. 

“Fancy meeting you here, mind if I sit?” A soft smile danced across his lips as he nodded towards the chair, pulling it out gently and perching himself of it as she picked at the skin around her nails - a nervous tick he had picked up on. 

“What’s got you out and about alone?” He cooed, clasping his hands together against his lap as he leaned forward in his seat. Her eyes remained on her hands as she reached out to drag her finger along the rim of the glass. An involuntary soft shrug of her shoulders pulling her from her thoughts. 

“Well the market was clearly a no go with the lightening and well… I guess I just couldn’t sit staring at the same four walls any longer. So here I am.” Her eyes found his, the sorrow she so badly wanted to hide gleaming front and center. 

“I get that but, dinner by yourself? Doesn’t sound like much fun does it?” She averted her gaze, shaking her head lightly and pulled her top lip down between her teeth. 

“Fun? No. But sometimes it’s all I got.” Her eyes grew wide as the words slipped past her lips, not meaning to come off the way she did. Sam’s expression softened, cocking his head to the side and pulled his bottom lip snugly between his teeth. He could see the inner workings of her brain turning, the way her eyes became slightly wild as she coiled into herself. 

“Hey.”  Sam kept his voice soft, his eyes alight with concern and wonder as he reached forward and placed his hand over hers. He felt her jump slightly, the sudden contact catching her off guard and she snapped her head up to look at him. 

“It’s okay! It’s okay. Are you okay?” 

Her chest rose as a deep breath found home in her lungs, blowing it out slowly as her eyes fluttered shut. She uncoiled her hand, allowing him to wrap his fully around hers. The dancing of his thumb against her palm bringing her back down to Earth and a soft shake of her head was then only answer she could muster. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Sam rose his brows, cocking his head slightly to the side as he watched her down half of her drink in one go. A soft sullen smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she placed the glass back on the table. 

“Not lying, nows just not the time or the place. So yes, I’m as okay as I’m going to be, Sammy. No offense.” She giggled, lifting her drink and tipped it in his direction before raking another sip. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, fully thankful for the dark lighting in the restaurant for hiding that damned blush blooming across his cheeks. 

“Well since you’re okay, I’m gonna jet. My brothers waiting around here somewhere for me.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling back and resting his hands on his knees. Her mind reeled, eyes wide as she reached her hand out across the table to him. 

“Wait… um.” She pulled back sheepishly, balling her hand into a fist as she realized her actions. Sam watched her intently, making mental notes of how her eyes glimmered, the way she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and snatched her hand back towards her body. He recognized her fight or flight instinct kicking in. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” She trained her eyes on his gaze, the Angel on her shoulder reminding her that he is just Sam and he means no harm. 

“I… uh… this is gonna sound forward but, would you maybe wanna stay and hang? Your brother could hang to. But you can say no.” A defeated look kissed her features and she shrugged her shoulders gently, her mind reminding her that he had no obligation to humor her. But he nodded his head, pulling his phone out to shoot off a quick text before tucking it back into his pocket. 

“I’m all yours.” 

~*~*~

Their time at the restaurant went off without a hitch. Small talk and jokes over appetizers and a pitcher of Sangria was just what she needed. Sam’s laugh was boisterous and catchy, tossing his head back every time she found one of her jokes to be just a little more funny than she intended.

She soon realized her smiles and giggles were genuine, nothing forcefully pushed out of her as he dug around his arsenal of dad jokes - hoping to find another one to tickle her fancy. Once she had tipped back her head and drank down the last of the sangria in her cup she raised a hand a flagged over the waitress. 

“Can we get the checks please?” Sam shook his head, turning his attention to the waitress. 

“Both on the same check is fine.” Her eyes grew wide and she frantically shook her head as the waitress walked away. 

“You cannot pay for my food and drinks. I won’t allow it.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he took the check book from the waitress and placed it on the table, resting his elbow against it as he leaned to the side to retrieve his wallet. 

Flashbacks engulfed her mind as she watched his movements. Thoughts of him making her pay for everything, not even offering to pay his own way dancing in the forefront of her mind. Her hands were clammy, panic beginning to bubble in her stomach as the clatter of Sam’s wallet hitting the table shook her from her thoughts.

“Consider this my thanks for supporting my market.” He shrugged, slipping his credit card in to the book and snapping it shut. Her brows furrowed, making a face at him and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Because oh I don’t know, paying you for the goods you create isn’t enough?” She quipped, eyeing him as he popped the top two buttons of his shirt open. 

“Listen, I’m trying to be the gentleman here and you’re just downing my vibe.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together under his chin and trained his eyes on her. She huffed a defeated sigh as she copied his move, leaning forward against her clasped hands. 

“Fine, you win. But you’re not paying for my

Uber.” She giggled, smiling up at the waitress as she took the check book to process the payment. 

“Who said I was going to let you get into an Uber? Do you know how many people get kidnapped in Ubers? I’d have nothing to look forward to if you got kidnapped!” Sam chuckled, analyzing the expression on her face as she took in his words. 

“So how exactly do you expect me to get home if I can’t Uber?” She quipped, tilting her head to the side. 

“Well, me, of course.” Sammy spat, as if it were common knowledge. She shook her head, laying her hand palm up down against the table. 

“But what if you’re a kidnapper?” She giggled, watching as he placed his hand in hers and wrapped her fingers around his large palm. 

“Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to trust me.” 

~*~*~*~ TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust​ @sammysprincess​ @sammykiszkamyass​ @belovedsamuel​ @safety-sam​ @puzzle-gvf​ @sunfl0wer-power​ @vanfleeter​ @twistedmelodies​ @ppoutine @aintthatapity​ @gvfpal​ @psychedelicsprinkles​