#my hands have been in such bad pain this week and i finally caved and put tape on them to see if it'll help and i really hope it does

[punkshort]

Swept Away | Chapter 10: Turn the Tide

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A devastating discovery leads you back into Joel's arms. But do you both have what it takes to make it work?

Chapter Warnings: language, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, mountains of angst, miscarriage (discussions and descriptions included, not terribly graphic, blood is mentioned, please skip if this is triggering for you), hurt/comfort, fluff, brief mention of vomit, anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, protected piv sex, secrets are revealed and explain some underlying anxieties/trust issues

WC: 16.6K

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

"Jesus Christ, this place is doing a number on my allergies," Celine whined when she opened your apartment door to find you curled up on your couch with a heating pad. She looked around the room and shook her head, dropping her purse and keys on your floor because every single flat surface was being taken up by flowers. Flowers Joel had been sending you every fucking day since he dropped you off. "How can you stand it in here?"

"I can't," you muttered, staring listlessly at the television while she opened up the windows as far as they would go. "Been meaning to look into places where I could donate them but I'm in the middle of the worst period of my fucking life."

"Yeah, I can see that," she replied before collapsing in a huff on the other end of your couch. Her eyes skimmed your coffee table, filled with pain killers, water and tea before she asked, "Have you eaten?"

You nodded and pointed to the empty bowl under the table. "I heated up some soup."

"Maybe you should call your doctor, are your periods usually this bad?" she asked before picking up the dirty dishes and heading to your sink.

"No," you groaned, rolling onto your back with a wince. "I'm on the pill. They're usually a breeze."

"Then you should definitely call," she said over her shoulder. "Can't hurt to get checked out."

"Yeah? With what health insurance?" you countered angrily as you forced yourself to sit up.

"Still no luck finding a job?"

You shook your head then sneezed, scowling at the roses nearby like it was their fault.

"Then use some of the fifty fucking thousand dollars he gave you and see a goddamn doctor!" she exclaimed after drying your bowl and putting it away. "I know you don't want to use it but it doesn't matter, he won't know either way."

Fifty grand. He had wired you fifty grand instead of twenty. You spent a week going back and forth with your bank, making them reject the funds over and over until you finally caved because you couldn't stand to waste any more time on the phone with them over it. You had decided you would donate it like he suggested, but you never figured out where. Between that and all the flowers he kept sending, you couldn't decide if you should be flattered or pissed off.

On that particular day, with your uterus trying to extract itself from your body, you chose to be pissed off.

As if on cue, your buzzer rang and you could have screamed at the top of your lungs, already knowing who it was. Celine got to the intercom first and pressed the button.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Jim, got today's flowers."

You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, deciding to give into your urge.

"Alright, buzzing you up."

You heard her press the other button and hold it a few seconds before unlocking your door and leaving it cracked.

"He's in love with you," she said matter-of-factly from the door.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," you replied, making her laugh.

A light tap on the door came a few minutes later and Celine pushed it open to greet Jim, an older man with a white beard that reminded you of Santa, before she signed for the flowers.

"Jim, don't you have someone you could give these to instead?" you asked from the couch. He shook his head and grinned before handing over the vase of peonies, dahlias and roses.

"You know I can't do that."

You made a face and collapsed into the back of your couch.

"Maybe if you just call him, it'll end," Jim offered, "although I don't mind. You're keeping the shop afloat at this point," he joked.

"That's exactly what he wants," you replied. He shrugged and gave you a wave with a see you tomorrow, then disappeared down the hall. Celine closed the door and looked around the room for a clear spot before giving up and setting them on the ground.

"Maybe flower guy was right. Maybe you should call him."

"He's just used to getting his way. He can pull this shit with anyone else but I'm not gonna give in," you told her while simultaneously picking up your phone, fingers tapping angrily at your screen. She grinned and found her spot back on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Joel and telling him to knock it the fuck off," you growled.

Celine tipped her head back and laughed. "Same thing! You're talking to him! You're giving him exactly what he wants."

"Okay, so I'm not perfect! What else is new?" you snapped after shooting off a text to Joel that said stop with the fucking flowers, I mean it.

Before Celine could reply, your phone vibrated in your lap.

Does this mean you're willing to see me? Or should I switch to chocolate?

You frowned and Celine knowingly tilted her head to the side.

"Girl. Come on. Hear him out. Maybe if you just meet up once and let him talk, he'll stop. I've never seen a guy text back as quickly as him, and he's got an actual successful business to run! Do you have a magic pussy or something, what the hell did you do to this guy?"

You cracked a smile for the first time in days. You didn't go into much detail with her since you came back. She knew you slept together and she knew he broke your heart, but everything else remained a mystery. And because she knew you would tell her in your own time, she never asked.

"I just think he's not used to hearing the word no," you told her, ignoring his text and setting your phone down on your coffee table.

"Or he's madly in love with you and doesn't know how to handle it," she countered with a raised eyebrow.

You opened your mouth to object, to remind her for the fourth time that Joel didn't fall in love with anyone, when a sharp pain shot through your legs and you doubled over with a deep groan. Celine lunged forward to rub your upper back, her smile long gone when she saw how you badly you were struggling.

"That's it. I'm calling your doctor," she said, snatching your phone from the table to scroll through your contacts.

You took a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, not bothering to stop her when she dialed the phone.

You sat on the exam table, a loud and irritating white piece of paper separating your thighs from the padding as your doctor sat before you, gently explaining what was happening while a low ringing began to echo in your head.

Miscarriage... hCG levels... four or five weeks... bleeding will end soon.

You just sat there in complete shock, a dumbstruck look on your face as she continued to explain it was nothing you did or didn't do, that it's extremely common, that you would likely go on to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy if you wanted. Then she said your name softly and your eyes refocused onto her bright blue ones behind her wire rimmed glasses.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked with a comforting hand on your knee.

Those glasses didn't suit her face at all, they were too round. Why didn't anyone ever tell her?

"Uh," you croaked before clearing your throat. "I'm... I'm on the pill. How did this happen?"

"It's ninety nine percent effective but it's lower if you skip days or forget to take them at the same time. Did that happen last month at all?"

Last month. When you were on the island with Joel. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Um, well, I was in Fiji last month," you began, fingers twisting anxiously in your lap. You still only had a pink paper gown to cover you after your exam. You felt so exposed and raw that your skin hurt.

"Did you account for the time change?" she asked. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dropped your chin to your chest.

"No." How stupid. Why didn't that occur to you? "I might have forgotten a day here and there, too. There was one weekend we were away and I forgot-" you stopped yourself and pinched the bridge of your nose. "Doesn't matter, I guess."

She patted your knee again and gave it a little squeeze.

"It's alright, you're going to be okay," she assured you. You nodded and swallowed thickly before looking back up.

"I know. I just... I thought if this ever happened..." you trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. "I thought I'd feel..." you couldn't finish your sentence but she seemed to understand anyway.

"It's completely normal. You didn't even know until it was already over. You're probably just in shock, it's a lot to take in," she said before kicking off the floor so her stool would roll over to the wall that held various pamphlets. She plucked a few from the hard plastic holders and held them out to you. "These will help explain more of what you're going through, but if you have any questions or if you're finding you need a little extra help to get through this, please give the office a call. We have a twenty four hour service, they'll connect me with you, day or night."

You thanked her softly and stared blankly at the pamphlets while she gathered her things before slipping out of the room, giving you some privacy to get dressed.

It was surreal, driving back home, burdened with this brand new knowledge, this thing you had no idea how to process. Shouldn't you be sad? Shouldn't you grieve the loss in some way? Maybe your doctor was right. Maybe you were in shock.

As you walked up to your building, a familiar olive green truck rumbled up to the curb, tapping out a light beep in greeting and shaking you out of your funk.

"Oh, hey," you said, smiling weakly at Jim when he jumped out with a wave.

"Good timing," he replied before climbing into the back of the truck to hand you a teddy bear with a little rose pinned to its chest. "He's switching it up," Jim said, smile falling when he saw the look on your face. "Hey, everything okay?"

You nodded quickly and reached for the pen to scribble your name. "Yeah, sorry, just tired."

He pressed his lips into a thin line before taking the pen back and giving you one last look.

"Well, get some rest, yeah? Need some help getting up to your place?"

"No, thank you, I'm good," you told him sincerely, then gave him a little wave before heading up the stairs to your building. He called out his usual see you tomorrow and you forced a smile before disappearing inside.

You supposed it was good you hadn't found a job yet. At least you could waste away in your bed until this strange feeling passed and you could process everything.

After you changed back into comfortable clothes with the plan to find some shitty movie to zone out to, you heard your doorbell buzz. With a confused frown, you shuffled back out into the living room, wondering who it could be. Jim had already dropped off Joel's daily gift and Celine had a key.

For one stupid, foolish moment you thought it might be Joel. Like he had somehow, from across the city and with absolutely no knowledge as to what was going on, found out about the miscarriage and came to scoop you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay.

The mere thought caused tears to sting your eyes and you quickly blinked them away, chalking it up to hormonal changes and the emotional morning.

"Yes?" you called weakly through the speaker.

A man's voice replied with your name posed as a question, followed by got a delivery here for you.

You buzzed him in and curiously craned your neck out into your hall, chewing your lower lip until the elevator dinged and a man dressed in an all brown uniform emerged carrying a large, flat, square package.

When he approached, he confirmed your name again before handing you something to sign, which you did blindly as your focus was still on the box at his feet.

"Where's it from?" you asked, stepping to the side so he could set it against your wall.

"Uh..." he trailed off, distracted momentarily by all the flowers, and then squinted at the paper you just signed. "Fiji Islands. That's pretty rad. Hope it's a vacation," he joked before tucking the clipboard under his arm and exiting back out into the hallway.

It took about ten seconds after he left for you to realize what it was, yet you still shakily opened the box, your palm cupping your mouth when the bubble wrap fell to the floor and Ellie's painting sat before you. You crumpled to the ground and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of pink seashells and stolen kisses and warm brown eyes and whispers of my girl. But it was staring you in the face. The painting that spoke to you before you even understood what it was saying, the painting Joel bought for you without a second thought, before you slept together, before it all fell apart.

Hot tears trickled down your face when you fumbled for your phone, your thumb hovering over the call button next to his name.

Just do it. Just call him. You wanted to hear his voice. You wanted him to hold you close and tell you it wasn't your fault. You wanted him to stay with you until the blood and the agony passed and everything from the past few hours became a horrible, distant memory.

Perhaps the shock was beginning to wear off.

At the last second, you scrolled up and tapped Celine's name instead. When she heard the broken sound of your voice, she dropped what she was doing to rush over, not even asking for details until you had stopped crying on her shoulder. You told her about your appointment. About the painting. About the seashells. About Brooks. About everything until your voice was raw and your face felt swollen and hot from crying.

She tucked you into bed and laid curled up next to you. She softly told you about her own miscarriage she had when she was nineteen. She told you the pain would go away, that the void inside would eventually fill again. But halfway through some movie she had found that mostly served as background noise, she turned to you and said the words you needed to hear. Like you were waiting for someone else's permission to give in.

"You gotta tell him, babe."

You couldn't even remember how you got there, standing in front of his hotel five days later, body now mostly recovered and fueled by caffeine from the shop three blocks away. It felt like you were drawn to him, like you weren't even making your own decisions, telling yourself you were just going to take a short walk to enjoy the weather and clear your head after downing an iced coffee.

Certainly if you had known you would have been walking through the doors of his lobby, giving the same man from that first day in the same pristine black suit a nervous smile before making your way across the room, sneakers squeaking on the floor as you walked, you would have prepared a little better.

It was quiet. The concierge looked bored and tapped her pen on a pad of paper, chin resting in her fist as she pretended to work. Elevator cars silently whirred up and down on both sides of you, the glass walls allowing you a sneak peek at guests going up to their rooms.

You cleared your throat when you approached reception, your mouth opening to give them your name when a man's surprised voice said it for you.

Swiveling around, you locked eyes with a dark haired man wearing thick rimmed glasses and a black bow tie over his tight fitting white shirt and tailored pants. You gave him a small smile, but your confusion must have been obvious because he blinked and shook his head before stepping forward and offering you his hand.

"I'm Liam," he began, "Joel's assistant."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shaking his hand while the gears slowly turned in your head. "Oh, so you're the one who bought all the clothes and stuff."

Liam grinned and nodded, dropping your hand so he could wrap both arms around the pad-folio pressed to his chest.

"I had pictures to work with when I was choosing colors. You know, so I could best compliment your hair and skin tone. I hope you liked everything."

"Yes! Oh, yes, everything was beautiful, thank you so much," you said hurriedly, then lowered your voice when you realized you were echoing. "Uh, is he in?"

Liam's shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Yes, thank god," he breathed, waving you over to an elevator and pressing the button. "I was afraid you were just here picking something up. I'm so glad you want to see him, he's been -"

You frowned when Liam seemed to realize he was saying too much and he cut himself off, lips pursing as he stared at the unopened elevator.

"What?"

Liam shook his head and shrugged right when the doors slid open. He beckoned for you to enter first before following, pressing the pad of his finger into a scanner and tapping a button. Only when the doors shut did he turn back to you.

"He's been worse than usual. I think he's upset about whatever happened," he explained, then waved his hands in the air and added, "I mean, he didn't tell me anything, but I'm assuming something happened because he's picking out flowers every single morning and asking me to have them delivered."

"He's been picking them out?" you repeated.

Liam just nodded. "It's none of my business, but he's never had me do this for anyone before. And I've worked for him for ten years," he said dramatically, raising his thick eyebrows at you knowingly.

"Oh," you said softly, dropping your gaze to the floor.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open, leading you out into the same hallway you walked down over two months ago when you first met. Butterflies instantly bloomed in your stomach as you followed behind Liam, keeping your gaze low while you tried to regulate your breathing. You had no idea how you were going to tell him, no rehearsed speech, nothing.

"He's in a meeting right now, but it'll be over in," Liam glanced at his watch, "twenty minutes. I'll take you to his office and let him know you're here when he's done."

You nodded and turned the corner, Joel's office already in view when you walked by the executive conference room. It looked the same as it did in your memory, the wall that bordered the hallway made of glass and inside, a long table with high back leather chairs. Only this time, people were inside having what appeared to be a very important meeting. Men and women in suits filled the table. Papers, mugs of coffee and laptops were scattered everywhere. The flat screen televisions projected extremely big numbers connected to various cities, presumably the locations of The Parador, but what made you stumble was seeing Joel at the head of the table.

His black tie was loosened around his neck, suit coat draped over the back of his chair as he stared at the screen, then his phone, gaze bouncing back and forth while next to him, a sweaty looking man gripping a laptop with one flat, shaky hand, spoke about the numbers.

You unconsciously slowed, unable to tear your eyes away when Joel stood up. His gaze was pinned to something on his phone, which now rested on the table. He was still listening to the man on his left but the more he spoke, the angrier Joel looked. You saw his nostrils flare and his jaw set while he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the irritation rolling off his tight shoulders until he finally snapped.

Their voices were muffled, but you probably wouldn't have been able to understand what they were talking about, anyway. Joel's brows were knit together, lips curled into a sneer as he spoke loudly enough to the group for you to hear the deep timber of his voice from where you stood in the hall.

Liam didn't say a word, allowing you to come to a standstill and watch Joel with a sly smirk from a few feet away.

You couldn't explain the feeling you had as you watched him, never before seeing him at work with your own two eyes. You knew he was important, obviously, but there was just something about the way he commanded the room, the way full grown men practically cowered when he began to pace around, his finger pointing at the sweaty man and then the screen. It made your heart race and your lips part as your breathing grew shallow, like you were in a trance.

And then Joel spun around, his eyes locking on yours through the glass like he suddenly sensed your presence, and the room went silent. His back instantly straightened and his brows relaxed and then a moment later he was storming towards the glass door.

"Joel?" you heard one of the men at the table call out when the door flung open.

"We're done, meeting's over," he tossed back over his shoulder. If you could have looked away from him, you would have seen the relieved look on all their faces as they began to hastily gather their things.

He stalked up to you, slowing to a stop when he was a couple feet away, then scanned you up and down, like he couldn't believe his eyes.

Neither of you spoke. You just stared at one another, hearts thundering wildly in your chests.

"Hey," he finally breathed, afraid if he spoke any louder he might scare you off.

"Hi," you replied timidly. Your gaze flickered around to Liam, to other people pretending to work within earshot, and to the people filing out of the conference room before meeting his eye again.

He finally snapped out of it and held out an arm, ushering you towards the direction of his office.

"C'mon," was all he said, and you quickly scurried down the hall with Joel hot on your heels.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?" Liam called. You could hear the smile in his voice before you turned around and said, "Water would be nice."

"I got water in here," Joel said gruffly, his hand gently grazing your lower back. He turned around to Liam and said, "No interruptions," before closing the door behind you both.

You looked around his office, everything just how you remembered it. Massive mahogany desk, dark green couch and chair near the well stocked bar, the entire room surrounded by bookshelves, awards, and various decor items, but no picture frames. How didn't you notice that before?

"Have a seat," Joel said, sliding past to get you ice water from the bar. You sunk down into the green couch, feeling just as nervous as the last time you were there.

"Thank you," you said when he placed the glass on a coaster. He nodded and seemed to take a moment before deciding to sit in the chair, giving you your space.

"I'm glad you came," he said, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Your eyes dropped to your shoes. Your dirty sneakers pressing into his expensive carpet and your frayed jeans... you couldn't even remember the last time they were washed.

"Yeah," you replied, voice sounding nothing like your own. You reached for your water and took a sip before carefully setting it down, fearful of even one drop landing on the rug or table. "I'm sorry. You were in a meeting, I would have waited."

"Fuck 'em," he said, and your eyes rose to find his. God, they looked so soft and kind, the way the sunlight hit them took your breath away. "Would rather talk to you than any of 'em," he added with a little smile.

"I got the painting," you told him. "It's beautiful, thank you," you added warmly, then frowned a bit when he excitedly stood to hurry behind his desk.

"That reminds me, I got somethin' else for you."

"Oh, Joel, please don't tell me it's more flowers," you begged, and he laughed lightly before bringing over a small black shopping bag. There was a designer label stamped on the side and you frowned.

"It ain't that - just open it," he insisted, handing you the bag before sitting back down on the edge of his seat.

Hesitantly, you peered inside, and what awaited you tore your heart in two.

"Joel..."

He smiled. He couldn't help himself.

"Was gonna leave it by your door or somethin' later," he said, his brown eyes sparkling as you lifted one of many pink seashells out of the bag to get a closer look.

"When did you -"

"Had to go back for a couple days and sign some paperwork," he explained. Your eyebrows pulled together and tears welled in your eyes as you stared down at the beautiful seashells he had collected, all for you.

"Thank you," you whispered, gingerly setting it back into the bag and placing it at your feet.

"You're welcome," he replied, his soft tone matching yours.

Alright. It was now or never.

You took a deep breath, rubbing your palms anxiously over the tops of your thighs, but before you could get a word out, he spoke again.

"I wanna tell you everythin'," he said. All the air left your lungs and you swallowed tightly. "I mean it. I'll tell you everythin', and not 'cause you want me to, 'cause I want to. I've been doin' alotta thinkin', and -"

"Joel," you interrupted. He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"No, Joel, I need to tell you something," you said. He must have heard something change in your voice because he stopped talking. He searched your face for any indication of what was to come, but of course came up empty.

"Okay," he said slowly. He watched your fingers fidget nervously in your lap and suddenly you couldn't make eye contact with him anymore.

"I don't really know how to say this," you began.

Oh fuck, you've met someone else, was his first thought.

"I, uh," then you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your lips into a tight line and panic seized his throat.

Something was wrong.

"It's okay," he said soothingly. He tried to inch forward but if he moved any more he would fall off the damn chair. "Go ahead, darlin'. What's goin' on?"

One single tear slid down your cheek and he swore he stopped breathing when you said the words I had a miscarriage.

"What?" he whispered, pain and confusion clouding his face.

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to look at him.

"I had a miscarriage and I just thought you had a right to know."

Your voice trembled and cracked as you forced the words out and he couldn't hold back any longer. He stood and rushed to your side, just like you always knew he would, just like you wanted. He enveloped you in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of your head. He rocked you back and forth, strong arms curled around your midsection, and you melted. You melted into him and didn't even try to fight it. For the past week, hell, for the past month, it was all you wanted.

"When?" he choked out. You circled your arms around him and your legs were suddenly pulled across his lap. He smelled so good, like that cologne you never could identify but was so distinctly him. You dragged in a deep breath, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"About a week ago."

Joel's grip around you tightened.

"You shoulda called me, baby. I woulda been there."

"I know," you sniffled. You rubbed the back of your hand under your nose and tried to breathe deep. "I know. But I didn't know it even happened until I went to the doctor."

You told him the whole story. Told him how you thought it was a bad period, how Celine called your doctor, how she explained what likely happened and that it was your own stupid fucking fault for messing up your pill.

"It ain't your fault," he told you, his voice reverberating in his chest. You closed your eyes and leaned into him, fingers grappling at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're not mad?" you whimpered.

"Baby, please," he begged, "'Course I ain't mad. Don't go carryin' this 'round. Don't carry that guilt. If it was meant to be, it would be, alright?"

Your tears flowed, then, unstoppable as they barreled down your cheeks. Your sobs could probably be heard from the other side of the door but you didn't care. Joel continued to hold you, cradle you, and hum soothingly against the top of your head until your tears slowed and your breath grew ragged.

"Are you okay?" he asked after you quieted down. His hand was flat against your back, rubbing wide circles as you continued to cling to him.

"Yeah, I think so," you said truthfully. "I just didn't expect it and then with the hormone change, it all kind of hit me at once, you know?"

"Yeah," he answered, "yeah, I get it. Is there anythin' I can do? Anythin' you need?"

You shook your head, biting down hard on your lip so you didn't say I just need you.

It seemed as though maybe he read your mind, or maybe he really had been giving things alot of thought because the next thing he said was, "I wanna do this right."

You felt the next wave of tears coming so you burrowed further into him, pressing your face against his neck, breathing him in and letting him slowly put you back together with each comforting stroke of his hand.

"Lemme do this right, sweetheart, please. Tell me how to fix it."

You didn't have the answer. Your eyes were dry and burning from all the tears you had just spilled and you felt completely drained. Every muscle in your body felt weak and useless, the last thing you wanted to do was think.

You continued to sit in silence, the only sound coming from the gold mantle clock slowly ticking away the seconds and some very faint murmuring when groups of people would walk by Joel's office. You closed your eyes, encased in his warmth, and let your mind drift back to everything that went wrong, wondering how you would do things differently if you could go back in time. Then you remembered something Joel had said on the plane and your eyes snapped open.

"What if we started over?"

His thumb, which was drawing slow, comforting circles over your arm, paused.

"You'd - yeah," he agreed, sounding a little breathless, "yeah, I think that's a good idea."

You sat up, untangling yourself from him so you could sit properly on the couch. You pulled your legs from his lap and tucked them underneath you before sticking out your hand and reintroducing yourself with a shaky smile.

He gave you a little grin before taking your hand in his, eyes glistening when he said, "Joel Miller."

It was impossible to keep the smile from your face when you heard the buzzer, followed by Joel's deep voice letting you know he was there to pick you up for your date.

Your "first" date.

With a skip in your step, you trotted to the elevator, tapped your foot impatiently all the way down, and practically ran out into the lobby with excitement. You caught yourself at the last second, making sure you looked more collected and cool than you really felt before pushing open the front doors.

And there he stood, in all his glory, at the bottom of your building's stone steps. His hands were in the pockets of his expensive black suit, and he grinned when he saw you for the first time, a stark contrast from the last time you each stood in those spots.

"You look beautiful," he murmured when you got closer, eyes dropping appreciatively to take in the light blue floral dress you chose, then bent over to plant a kiss on your cheek. The way his scruff tickled your skin had a wave of goosebumps flashing over your arms, making you shiver.

"Thank you," you said, scooting into the backseat of his car when he held the door open for you.

"Hi, Richie."

"Hey, honey," he replied with a smile and wink in the review mirror.

Joel rounded the back of the car and slipped in beside you, then gave Richie a nod to start driving.

"Wait, where are we going?" you asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"Got a reservation at this French restaurant that just opened up. Supposed to be impossible to get in but, well..." he smirked a little and shrugged, letting his sentence trail off.

"Uh, I was actually thinking of something else."

Joel gave you a curious look. "Like what?"

"Like... maybe getting pizza at Sal's and then catching the 9:45 showing of Shadow Strike?" you offered with a cheesy smile. Joel laughed, eyes crinkling as he tipped his head back. Seeing him so relaxed and happy was truly a sight to behold.

"Anythin' you want," he replied, then leaned forward. "Hear that, Richie?"

"Yes, sir."

Joel patted the headrest twice and sat back, brown eyes dancing when they found you again.

"Hole in the wall pizza joint and a movie theater? I'm gonna regret wearin' these shoes, ain't I?"

You looked down at the shiny, black leather and giggled.

"How much were they?"

"Seven hundred."

"Oh, yeah, you'll definitely regret it."

The floors at Sal's left little to be desired, for sure, but the pizza was undeniably the best in town. One bite had Joel forgetting all about the stained laminate flooring.

"Right?" you asked excitedly when his eyebrows raised in surprise.

He only nodded, his mouth full until he swallowed and said, "Didn't think there was any decent pizza out here. Reminds me of New York pizza," before taking another large bite.

You giggled and leaned across the high top table to grab the shaker of parmesan cheese.

"I'll have to take your word for it, I've never been."

"You've never been to New York?" he echoed incredulously, and you shook you head as you took another bite. Joel gave you a fake look of disappointment before saying, "I'll have to take you with me next time."

"Do you go often?" you asked, tucking away the idea of traveling again with Joel for later.

"Yeah, 'sides the hotel out here, New York's my biggest source of revenue."

"For now, right?" you countered. He grinned and wiped the corner of his mouth with a thin paper napkin.

"We're a long ways off from openin' in Fiji, but, yeah, that one's projected to make the most."

You nodded, both falling into a comfortable silence while you finished your food.

"Alright," Joel said after balling up his napkins and tossing them onto his greasy paper plate. "Where're you from?"

You laughed and felt your cheeks warm when you replied, "You already know that."

"It's our first date," he reminded you with an adorable smile. His forearms were crossed and resting on the tabletop. He leaned forward like he was sharing a secret, completely oblivious to the looks he was getting when other customers saw him in his sharp, black suit, completely out of place for the setting.

"Okay, I'll play," you decided, leaning forward to mimic his posture. "I'm from Tennessee."

"And what brought you all the way out here?"

You laughed and said, "College."

"You lose your accent or did you never have one?" he asked.

"Uh, I might've had a small accent when I first moved, but I'm afraid it's long gone now. Not like yours," you pointed out.

When you first met, Joel refused to share anything about himself. You were delighted to find out that had changed.

"Grew up in Texas. Whenever I feel it fadin', I know it's time to go back for a visit," he joked, watching your eyes light up when he freely shared something about himself.

"W-where in Texas?" you stammered. You were still unsure of how much he was willing to share, so you figured you would keep your questions to a minimum. But once again, he shocked you.

"Austin. Parents are still out there somewhere. Little brother, too, pretty sure."

"Oh," you replied softly. You grew nervous at the mention of his brother, remembering how the last time he was brought up didn't go so well, so you chose to leave the topic alone and instead focused on his parents.

"Are you close with your mom and dad?"

Joel shrugged, appearing calm on the outside but he could feel his heart pumping faster and his foot began to tap anxiously. If it weren't for the noisy, sticky floor giving him away, you may not have noticed, but you did.

He was nervous, but he was still trying.

You reached out to gently squeeze his arm, making him smile.

"We don't have to," you whispered. We can go slow, it's okay.

"Not as close as I used to be," he said, ignoring the out you gave and allowing the words to tumble out of him all at once. "Y'know how families are. Stupid fights 'n all that."

You nodded vigorously in agreement. "Same with me. Well, I never got along great with my parents. I was always looking for a reason to leave. I applied to schools as far away from home as possible, then me and my best friend both got into UC and it was a no brainer."

Joel looked relieved when you pulled the focus back onto yourself. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he leaned forward.

"The friend you were tellin' me 'bout?" he asked, letting you fill in the rest of the sentence. The one who called the doctor.

"Celine," you offered, "yeah. We've been friends forever."

On the way back to his car, you told him a story from when you and Celine were in high school. Back when you were underage and dumb and drank too much at a house party to impress a boy and you ended up vomiting into some boxwoods while Celine held your hair back.

"The neighbor boy?" Joel guessed.

"You remembered," you said, sounding impressed. He gave you a knowing look, lips pulling into half a smirk, like he were saying of course I remembered.

"Well, yeah. The very same," you confirmed with a deep breath. You fidgeted with the skirt of your dress, trying to hide the sudden wave of shyness that washed over you. Even though you had history, that night somehow really did feel like a first date.

Joel took your hand when you stepped out of the car and he led you into the movie theater, only letting you go when he needed both hands to pay for your tickets.

"I had my first kiss in a movie theater," Joel said as he stood in line beside you for popcorn. You tilted your head to look at him, excited once again he was sharing something personal about himself.

"What movie was it?"

"Indiana Jones," he replied without hesitation. Then you laughed when he added, "I was so nervous the whole time, barely saw a minute of it. Kept psychin' myself up to make a move and couldn't think 'bout anythin' else."

"I can't imagine you nervous," you teased, then right before the clerk called you up to the counter, you locked eyes.

"You make me nervous all the time."

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability, and then a second later he was at the counter ordering.

"C'mon, don't wanna miss the beginning," he said as he handed you your drink and motioned towards the theaters, completely unperturbed.

When you picked the movie, you figured a standard action flick would be pretty safe. You steered clear of anything romantic, not wanting to inadvertently draw parallels to your own relationship, and you even avoided horror because you had a tendency to cling to the person you're with out of fear. Yet somehow you still found yourself inching closer to him.

At first, you crossed your legs and your foot grazed his knee. Purely accidental. You even apologized and shifted a bit to create more space. But then you kept leaning on the armrest between you and your head tilted to rest between both seats. You wanted to blame it on the fact that he held the popcorn bucket, but he was kind enough to move it closer so you wouldn't have to reach so far.

Around the halfway point of the movie, his hand found your knee. If you recalled correctly, it was during one of the rare funny parts of the movie and you both had leaned forward to laugh. His hand grabbed you for support and just kind of... stayed there.

After that, you had trouble following the plot.

"Wait... who is he again?" you whispered. Joel's fingers flexed on your knee when he leaned over and you were eternally grateful the dark room hid how flustered it made you.

"The marine? He's the brother from earlier."

"Oh, right," you replied, and you must not have sounded very convincing because he gave you a look and you giggled, slapping your palm over your mouth when the people a couple rows ahead of you turned around.

Joel grinned and remained where he was instead of straightening back up.

A few more minutes went by. You pretended to watch the movie but he was too distracting, being that close. Your gaze kept drifting off the screen and down to his hand, then from his hand up to his face, admiring the way the light from the film played across his perfect side profile.

He felt your eyes on him and he turned his head, still smiling when he asked, "You alright?"

"Mhmm," you hummed with a vigorous nod. Then you found yourself leaning a little closer and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again.

It wasn't your fault. He looked so ridiculous and handsome in his expensive suit eating buttery popcorn in an old movie theater. You simply couldn't help yourself. You both inched forward at the same time and gently pressed your lips together. At first, it was timid and sweet and sent a spark down your spine. It felt so nice to kiss him again after so long and after everything that happened, you easily lost yourself in him.

Too easily.

By the time the credits rolled and the dim lights slowly turned back on, you had both hands buried in his hair and his tongue halfway down your throat. When you realized that people could see you, you hurriedly pulled apart at the exact same time. Joel's hand, which had once been on your knee and had since traveled up the skirt of your dress, gave your thigh a little squeeze before begrudgingly untangling himself from you.

"Maybe we should go," you said, giving him a shy glance after fixing yourself up a bit.

"Yeah, just... gimme a minute," he replied, his eyes rolling to stare at the ceiling as he took a few deep, focused breaths. The theater was almost empty and you were about to ask what was wrong when you noticed the bulge in his pants. Heat flooded your face and you looked away to hide your laughter, but he caught you.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" he asked. He tried to sound serious but he couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"A little," you admitted when you looked back at him. He grinned and finally stood up with a groan, tugging his suit coat closed before reaching for your hand.

"I'll remember that," he warned as he led you down the steps and back out into the lobby.

Once you were settled in his car with Richie driving through the dark, quiet streets back towards your apartment, you turned to Joel and asked, "Better than Indiana Jones?"

"Oh, no contest, baby," he murmured with a sly smile.

You giggled and let his fingers thread through yours on top of the seat. Your cheeks ached from how much you laughed and smiled that night. Admittedly, you had your doubts you would be able to really start over after everything that happened, but things felt so different now. In large part, that had to do with Joel and how much he was trying. He pushed himself to open up to you a little bit, despite his uneasiness, and he had no problem agreeing to a normal first date at the last minute.

He was really trying, and he was doing it for you.

"I got it, Richie," Joel said when the car pulled up to your curb and the driver had moved to unbuckle his belt. He gave Joel a nod in the review mirror and stayed put as Joel swung his door open to step outside. Then his eyes shifted to yours and he smiled.

"Have a good night, honey."

"Thanks, Richie, you too," you said warmly just as Joel opened your door.

He held out his hand and you took it, steadying yourself to stand, and gave him a grateful smile right when he pushed the door shut. Wrapping your arms around the crook of his elbow, he led you up the steps to the front door of your building, only letting you go to search for your keys.

"Well, thank you," you said, sounding a little more breathless than you intended, but Joel seemed to like it because his brown eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched when he heard the desire laced in your voice. "I had a great time."

"Me, too," he murmured as he casually leaned against the doorframe, playfully cocking his head to the side as he sized you up and down. "Y'know, I've never seen your place," he said innocently, but when your jaw dropped in mock offense and you gave his shoulder a gentle push, he threw his head back and laughed.

"Excuse me, I don't put out on the first date," you joked, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"No, 'course not. Was just pointin' out a fact, is all," Joel replied with a matching grin of his own.

"Oh, is that all?" you echoed, leaning forward and wrapping his tie around your fist, then giving it a gentle tug so he would meet you halfway.

"Yeah," he whispered right before your mouths found each other once again. You could still taste the salt and butter from the popcorn on his lips as he crowded you against the door, both his hands flying up to cup each side of your face, cradling it gently while his lips massaged yours. There was just something about him that always had you melting into a puddle at his feet, and that evening was no exception. You had to tear yourself away with a soft laugh before you broke your rule and invited him upstairs.

"Can we do this again?" he asked as you slid your key into the door. You pushed it open and stepped inside, turning back to face him.

"I would love that."

Joel grinned and promised he would call before you waved goodnight and disappeared into the lobby.

When your elevator opened up on your floor, you hurried to your apartment, exhausted but giddy with excitement at how perfect the date went. You flicked on your lights and locked your door before kicking your heels off and throwing your purse onto the couch, but not before digging out your phone to taken with you as you got changed and ready for bed.

You had just finished brushing your teeth, not ten minutes after he left, when your phone rang. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you saw his name, and you slipped between your bedsheets before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

You could hear the road noise in the background when you asked, "Did you forget something?"

"Nope. Just said I would call."

You laughed and pulled your blankets up around your chin.

"I thought that meant maybe tomorrow."

"Miss you, didn't wanna wait," he answered immediately. You bit your lower lip and even though he couldn't see you, you pressed your palm over your cheeks when you felt them grow hot.

"I miss you, too," you whispered.

After a beat of silence where you were each smiling like fools for no one to see, he spoke again.

"What do you wanna do for our next date?"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin thoughtfully for a moment. "How about you pick the next one since I picked this one? We can take turns."

You heard his deep chuckle on the other end and you grinned.

"I like it. You're on."

You figured Joel would pick something a little fancier than you, but you weren't expecting him to propose a date to the opera for your fourth date. It was a far cry from the shitty little dive bar around the corner that had a really fun trivia night you dragged him to a few days before.

Joel! I don't have anything to wear to the opera!

I kept all your clothes. I'll have Liam drop off some things before EOD.

Before you even had a chance to process the fact Joel had kept everything from your trip to Fiji and what that could possibly mean, your phone pinged with another text.

Told you you should've kept them

You grinned and shook your head.

And I told *you* I don't have the room

When are you gonna let me see this tiny apartment of yours?

You glanced around your living room, the space was cozy but definitely not spacious. It was hard to even imagine Joel there. Would he even like it? He was definitely used to a very different lifestyle than you. You were nervously chewing your nail, lost in thought, when your phone pinged again.

Sorry, not trying to pressure you, that's not what I meant

Shit, you took too long to answer and had him second guessing himself.

I know lol I was just reading an email - sorry

It wasn't entirely untrue. Your laptop sat open on your coffee table, your email program sitting before you.

Any luck on the job front?

No... not yet. Fortunately I have a handsome benefactor paying my rent for the next two months ;)

Your handsome benefactor would really like it if you let him help you find a job, baby

You rolled your eyes and sighed before typing out, don't you have a company to run?

I can do two things at once

You laughed to yourself and leaned back into your couch, staring at your phone longingly.

Since your first date with Joel, you had spoken every single day, approximately two weeks. What surprised you the most was the constant stream of texts he sent you throughout the day. You saw how he was in Fiji, you knew he was busy and had meetings and calls around the clock. How on earth he managed to do both still astounded you.

Because he was really trying, a little voice in the back of your head piped up.

He really did seem like a completely different man from the one you first met. Traces of him were still there: he hadn't yet come clean about his daughter or brother, but every time you saw each other, he made a point of sharing something new about himself. He told you a handful of stories from when he was younger, living in Texas. He told you his brother was a contractor but that was the only thing you knew about him. And that was okay. You wanted him to tell you about himself on his own terms, without feeling pressured, and that was exactly what he was doing.

Well I need to shower and figure out what to do with my hair for tonight. Unfortunately my phone's not waterproof so I guess I'll just see you later?

Looking forward to it - I'll let you know when to expect Liam

Like he promised, Liam arrived around four in the afternoon with an armful of dresses draped over one arm and a bag of shoes in the other.

"Oh, god, here - lemme help you," you said when you saw how much he was carrying from the elevator. He shot you a relieved smile when you grabbed a few things from his arms and helped him inside your apartment. He took one quick glance around and said, "Cute," before laying the dresses out on your couch and unzipping the bags.

"Alright. I brought a few pieces I thought would work best. You're free to do whatever, of course, but I would recommend the Chanel dress with the Valentino shoes."

Your eyes darted around at the items suddenly taking up all of the space in your living room and tried not to look completely out of your depth, but he must have been able to tell because he snatched up both items and handed them to you.

"Oh, thanks," you told him. The Chanel dress was a slinky black number you never had a chance to wear on the island, and the shoes were strappy heels you thought you wore once to a dinner with Zoe.

"Have you seen La Traviata before?" Liam asked. You chuckled and shook your head.

"I've never even been to the opera before."

Liam smiled and clapped his hands together gleefully. "Oh, you'll have such a great time! This is a great one to see. Especially from the box. You'll be able to see everything and won't have to dodge horrible hairdos or top hats."

"B-box? Joel's got box seats?" you stammered. He laughed and began to open a small toiletry bag filled with jewelry.

"Of course he does."

Liam held up a few necklaces before settling on a thin chain of diamonds and setting it aside. He then dug out matching earrings and a bracelet while he asked, "What are you planning to do with your hair?"

You had washed and dried it but otherwise, you hadn't gotten further than that.

"Uh, just wear it down, I guess."

Liam straightened up and gave you a once over. "Want some help?"

Relief flooded your veins and you quickly nodded. "Do you mind?"

He smiled and shook his head before flapping his hands, ushering you towards your bathroom.

"Not at all. Let's see what you're working with."

"Jesus, you look beautiful," Joel murmured for the fourth time since he picked you up. He had one arm wrapped tightly around your middle, pulling you close to his side as you weaved through the lobby of the opera house. You owed it all to Liam. He was a lifesaver. He picked out your outfit and helped curl your hair where you couldn't reach it, keeping you distracted while he told you about his boyfriend's parents and their lavish home in Malibu.

"Thank you," you replied softly, looking him up and down in his sharp, black tuxedo before reminding him how good he looked, too.

"You wanna get a drink before it starts? We got 'bout ten minutes," he said, looking quickly at his watch before catching your eye.

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm good," you replied, looking past him to admire the ornate architecture. "Do you come to the opera often?"

"Not as much as I like," he told you while leading you towards a flight of carpeted stairs in the corner of the room. "Don't usually have many dates," he added with a little smirk. You smiled back, heart fluttering a little in your chest at how relaxed and happy he seemed.

He had been so good about opening up lately, you decided to test the waters and see how he would react.

"When was your last relationship?"

He faltered for just a quick moment when he reached out to pull back the red velvet curtain that led to your box seats, but he recovered nicely.

"You mean a real relationship?" he asked, and you nodded. He pulled out your chair and you swept the skirt of your dress underneath you before sitting down and thanking him.

"Well, that woulda been with Sarah's mom."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you twisted in your seat to look at him. He was fixing his suit coat, looking down as his fingers nervously fidgeted with the buttons while he spoke.

"Was a long time ago. Sarah's fifteen now," he added, clearing his throat before locking eyes with you.

You swallowed and nodded before forcing yourself to reply, trying not to look too eager to hear more.

"That's a long time."

"Explains why I'm so rusty," he joked, cracking a little smile which you quickly reciprocated.

"You're not as rusty as you think," you teased. "I've been having a really great time the past couple weeks."

His smile softened and he instinctively found your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles.

"Me, too," he murmured, dark eyes sparkling in the dim lighting from the chandeliers hanging over the auditorium.

His hand rarely left yours the entire three hours. The brief moments where the audience was expected to clap were the only exception, and then his hand immediately fell to yours once again. There was something so sweet and tender about the gesture, it made your chest squeeze and had you wishing you could curl into his side and wrap yourself around him.

What was wonderful was he didn't expect anything from you in these two short weeks, but then again, he never really did. Not in the way you were thinking, anyway. But that particular evening, you couldn't stop yourself from thinking about it. It might have been the heart-wrenchingly beautiful arias, or his thick fingers laced between yours, or how fucking good he looked in his tux, but whatever it was, it was driving you crazy. During the final hour of the performance, you were trying not to squirm in your seat too much and distract him because it truly was a beautiful opera, and you enjoyed it much more than you expected, but your close proximity and constant contact had your body reacting in ways that were not appropriate for the setting.

Even in the car on the way back to your apartment, you struggled to carry on a simple fucking conversation with him, allowing Joel to do most of the talking as he described his favorite parts while your eyes subtly darted between him and Richie, wishing more than ever that Joel would use that goddamn partition you knew the car had but he never seemed to utilize.

The three dates you've had before all ended the same way. Richie had figured out by now that Joel preferred to open your door himself, so he remained seated after giving you a quick good night over his shoulder while Joel slid out of the car to walk you up. He would kiss you, tell you what a fun time he had, maybe offer up a suggestion for your next date and probably give you a flirty little joke or comment before kissing you one last time with the promise to call.

This time, you only let him get to the first kiss before you whispered against his lips, "Do you want to come up and finally see my apartment?"

He pulled back like he had been electrocuted and you stifled a giggle at the serious look on his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he tried to formulate a response.

"Or, you know, you could see it another time if you're tired," you added, hiding your smirk when you turned to unlock your front door.

"N-no, that's - y'sure?" he asked from over your shoulder. You pushed open the door and took one step inside before turning back around. Dragging your gaze up and down his body, you looked him dead in the eye when you said, "Absolutely."

Joel waved Richie off when you turned to drag him into your building, praying the ancient elevator wouldn't take forever like it normally did. You were in luck: it opened right away for once, and you quickly stepped inside before repeatedly jabbing the button for your floor. Joel chuckled behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist when the doors closed.

"That excited to show me your place, hm?" he murmured, his lips brushing over your bare shoulder. You leaned back into his chest, head lolling to the side and eyelids fluttering when his prickly mustache tickled your neck.

"Mhmm," you hummed, then bravely added, "especially my bedroom."

He groaned and gently bit at the skin behind your ear, teeth grazing over a tender spot, making you shudder.

"C'mon," you muttered once the doors slid open, grabbing his hand and hauling him down the hall towards your apartment. When you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise when you almost ran into your neighbor.

"Oh! Mrs. Adams! Hi... s-sorry," you stammered at the elderly woman wrapped in her robe with her tiny white dog cradled in her arms.

"Ma'am," Joel said with a friendly nod.

She said your name in greeting, then gave Joel a suspicious look over her shoulder before disappearing inside your abandoned elevator. You giggled and knocked your door open with your hip, pulling him inside and locking the door while flicking on your lights.

With one hand on your lower back, he looked around your meager apartment, standing in the middle of your living room slash kitchen in his tuxedo looking more out of place than you could have ever imagined, but it didn't bother you. Turned out, you liked seeing him in your space. You wanted to have memories of him sitting on your couch or eating at your table or taking a shower in your bathroom.

"I like it," he said, eyes still darting around to take in every little thing. Then he spotted some framed photographs on your entertainment center and he took a step forward.

"Can we look at those later?" you asked, tugging him back. He grinned and nodded before cupping your jaw and placing a tender kiss against your lips.

"You got somethin' else in mind?" he teased, but you just nodded earnestly and began to tug at his tie. He chuckled and watched you yank it from around his neck, dropping it on your floor before beginning to undo his buttons.

His hands fell to your sides, running up and down and plucking at the slinky fabric of your dress while you undid half the buttons of his crisp white shirt. Pleased to find he wasn't wearing an undershirt, you lunged forward and started to leave a trail of wet kisses leading from the center of his chest all the way up to the corner of his mouth.

"Missed you," he breathed, letting his eyes fall closed while you worked on sucking a bruise into his neck. Your fingers worked faster now, tugging the shirt from his dress pants and fumbling with the remaining buttons.

"Me, too," you whispered, lips still nipping at his skin, tongue darting out to press against his pulse. His shirt finally fell open and your nails lightly dragged down his chest when you added, "Need you. Please, Joel... kiss me."

You didn't need to ask twice.

His mouth collided with yours, all messy and urgent, and he began to walk you backwards towards the open door of your bedroom. He deftly worked the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it down as he walked, mouth still seared across yours.

When you stepped through the threshold, your heels transitioning from hardwood to carpet, you blindly flung a hand out and flicked a light switch. In the corner of your room, a floor lamp turned on, casting you both in a soft glow when Joel finally pushed you down onto your bed.

His eyes, dark and filled with desire, dragged up and down your body while he unbuttoned his cuffs and shrugged off his shirt. Your dress was unzipped but still hung from your shoulders as you watched him slowly work his belt with bated breath.

"I like your room," he told you, tone casual like he wasn't taking off his pants and palming his cock through his boxers.

"Thanks," you laughed as you began to squirm out of your dress. He grinned and grabbed a heel in each hand before sliding them off and tossing them into a corner. "I can't imagine the kind of bedroom you have. Probably as big as the entire floor of this building."

"You'll have to come over and see," Joel said, eyes glued to your dress when it slid to the floor. He knelt on the edge of your mattress, old bed squeaking under his weight, then fell forward to hover above you.

He traced a finger along your jaw, mesmerized for a moment as he admired you up close. When he heard your breathing stutter under the scrutiny, his gaze flickered up to yours and he pinched your chin.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "For everythin'. For every time I pushed you away 'n every time I made you cry."

The sudden shift in mood stunned you for a second and he took the opportunity to press his lips firmly against yours, tethering you together for just a moment before pulling away.

"Thank you for givin' me another chance," he whispered, closing his eyes and nudging his nose gently against yours. "I won't fuck this up again, baby, I promise."

"You better fucking not," you sniffled, then wrapped your arms loosely around his neck to pull him into another deep kiss so he wouldn't see your eyes grow watery.

"There's my girl," he chuckled at your sass when he broke away to pepper kisses along your jaw. My girl. Hearing those words shot a bolt of arousal through you and your hips began to subtly rock upwards, seeking out some friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

"Want me to take care of you?" he murmured into your skin. "Want me to make you feel good, baby?"

"Yeah," you whined, hips bucking upwards to chase his hand that dropped between your thighs, fingers teasing at your seam through your soaked panties. Then he hooked the fabric to the side, his mouth finding yours right when he slid two thick fingers inside you, swallowing down your gasp and groaning at the sharp bite of pain from your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shit," you whispered when he began to plunge them in and out, curling and flexing his fingers inside your wet walls, soaked from the arousal building since you first saw him in his tuxedo when he picked you up.

Joel hummed, relishing in the familiar feel around him and trying to hold himself back from pulling his hand out from between your legs so he could bury his cock deep inside you, instead.

But he refused to be selfish. He said he wanted to take care of you, and he meant it. He meant it in every imaginable way.

All he wanted was you.

"So beautiful, y'know that?" he mumbled, mouth dragging over your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your chin. "So warm 'n perfect, missed havin' you like this," he continued, lips twitching when he saw your eyes squeeze shut and mouth fall open when his fingertips brushed against that spot that had you reduced to a mumbling mess underneath him.

Joel could sense he had you right on the edge. He heard it in the way your breath came in staggered gasps and could feel it in the way your legs began to quake. He picked up the pace, breath puffing hot and fast from his nose, eyes locked on your face, eager to watch you fall apart for him after what felt like an eternity without you.

Then his face broke out into a cocky grin when the heel of his palm started to slap against your clit with each snap of his wrist. The noises you made for him were like music to his ears, a symphony of his name and more and don't stop and a litany of curses.

"Gonna come for me, darlin'? Gonna come 'n let me fuck this perfect little pussy?" he growled while biting gently at your earlobe. You whined and tipped your head back, pushing deep into your pillow as the pleasure mounted low in your belly, burning bright when it finally spilled over with a pathetic hoarse whimper. Joel groaned when your nails dragged down unexpectedly hard, leaving angry red trails over the skin of his back. Marks he would catch in the mirror on Monday and grin proudly at his reflection after he stepped out of his shower.

"Fuck, Joel," you panted, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him. You looked so beautiful like that. All fucked out, hair a mess, skin hot, lips swollen. He dove down and pulled your lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging before letting it go and slipping his tongue into your eager mouth. His fingers had slowed to a stop inside you, but he could still feel your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was a feeling he was very familiar with. A feeling he craved and now that he had it again, feared he may go insane if he didn't feel it around his painfully hard cock very soon.

As if you read his mind, you dragged your mouth away from his to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me, Joel," and he swore the edges of his vision blurred from just your request alone.

A high pitched moan slipped past your lips when he pulled his fingers out from between your legs. You rolled your head to the side, the sudden emptiness causing you to writhe in discomfort, but you wouldn't have to wait very long.

He reached around to unhook your strapless bra and tossed it onto your floor, like he was mad at it for keeping you from him. Then he made short work of your underwear, which you looked relieved to finally be rid of, before pulling down his boxers and freeing his throbbing cock. He caught your gaze drop and your teeth sunk into your lower lip before sitting up.

"I wanna suck it," you announced, but when you began to lean down, he grabbed your shoulders and hauled you up.

"Not tonight," he told you, and you whined a little as you reached down to stroke him. He groaned and tipped his head back, hips thrusting into your fist on their own accord.

"Please," you pleaded, lips puckering around his adam's apple. And you almost got him. He could hardly resist when you begged, especially with the promise of your warm, soft mouth wrapped around his cock, but he knew he wouldn't last long if he let you.

"Lemme fuck you, baby," he murmured when he gave you a gentle push. You flopped back onto your bed with a playful scowl, tits bouncing a little from the impact when he suddenly reached down to the floor to grab his pants. He pulled out a little foil wrapper and you frowned.

"We don't have to-"

"Just bein' extra careful, alright?" he told you, cutting you off as he rolled the condom on.

"I have an implant now. It won't be a problem like last time," you insisted, but he already tossed the wrapper to the ground and fell onto his elbows, hovering above you.

"Humor me," he said with a little smirk right before his hips pushed your thighs apart, wasting no time lining himself up with your entrance.

Normally, he would go slow. Normally, he would take his time and feed you his cock inch by inch, but on that particular evening, he was too desperate. With one deep grunt and rough thrust, he sheathed himself inside you in one go, making your jaw drop and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Sorry," he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, the sensation of your pussy gripping him so perfectly sending him reeling. "Sorry," he repeated as the both of you struggled for air, "I didn't mean, I - fuck -" his hips began to move just a little bit and he whimpered when your fingers drifted up to get tangled in his hair.

"It's okay, keep going," you encouraged him, taking a deep breath and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Don't wanna hurt you but, fuck baby, I want you so goddamn bad."

"I know, it's okay, it doesn't hurt," you told him truthfully. His mouth was open, pressed against your chest with his exhale fanning across your skin, making you shiver. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tilted your hips with a gasp. "God, you're so deep," you moaned, nails scraping his scalp when he began to move a little more steadily.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmured, voice sounding strained. It was all too much and, somehow, not enough. You clung to him when his hips began to snap against you, jostling your entire body with each earth-shattering thrust. His groans and your whimpers getting lost in each others mouths. Tears stung your eyes when he whispered, "Think 'bout you all the time. Never stop thinkin' 'bout you." And he growled when you admitted the same.

Your shitty little bed frame screamed underneath you the more desperate Joel became, no doubt grabbing the attention of Mrs. Adams across the hall. His hands never stopped moving. They cupped your breast, the back of your neck, your ass, and then his fingers hooked under your knee, pulling your leg to open up your hips.

Your eyes flew open and you cried out at the intense angle, his cock splitting you in two but his kiss put you right back together again. One of his hands fell to grab your hip, his other arm bracing himself next to your head and it felt utterly overwhelming, being completely consumed by him, that you wanted to do the same. You tugged at his hair, nipped at his throat, wrapped your other leg even tighter around his middle.

If he was going to destroy you, you wanted to give it right back.

He appeared to enjoy it. He groaned and his lips curled into a smile when you tried to take a piece of him. It made him slam his hips into your harder, had him plunging his tongue into your mouth with an urgency that sent your back arching off the bed, pressing your bare chest against his.

"You like that?" he mumbled into your mouth, lips barely leaving yours to speak. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

"So - good -" you moaned, each word bookended by a snap of his hips.

"You like gettin' me all worked up? Like drivin' me fuckin' crazy?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," you breathed, smirking at the sound of his words passing through gritted teeth. His chin dropped and his teeth grazed your nipple a little harsher than you expected and you yelped, which melted into a giggle when you felt him smile against your skin.

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and, with your lips still curved into a smile, reached down to grab his ass, giving it a firm squeeze while making sure to add a little pinch from your nails. It made him grunt, his hips changing their pace. What was rough, strong thrusts of his hips now faltered to deep strokes which he made sure to drive upwards so he could reach that spot inside you he knew would have you screaming his name.

"Oh, fuck!" you cried out, and he chuckled darkly against your throat. "Fuck! Joel... keep - going," you gasped. Your hands were back to clawing at his shoulders while he drove into you over and over. His forehead prickled with sweat and he could feel his curls beginning to stick to his skin but he refused to let up because you were so close. Your slick walls were clenching around him, making him see stars, while you repeatedly whined his name. He smirked to himself, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. Your voice was already hoarse and he could only imagine what it would sound like in the morning, all raw and thick with sleep.

"You gonna come f'me, baby?" he asked, voice deep and gravelly in your ear. You nodded, mouth still hung open in a silent scream. "Then do it. C'mon, wanna feel you," he coaxed. "Wanna feel your tight little pussy milk this cock. Go on, lemme have it."

The ball of tension growing hotter and brighter at the base of your spine finally broke. Your back arched up again and your head flew back into the pillows as your orgasm rolled through your entire body, his name reduced to just a mere whimper on your lips, unable to give anything else. Your muscles weakened and you collapsed back into the bedding, your brain in a fog. Meanwhile, Joel reared back and dragged your hips onto his lap, pounding steadily into your used cunt, all frantic and delirious in his movements until he slammed into you one final time with a deep, prolonged groan.

Your eyes slid closed, but his mouth was back on yours in an instant. Soft, tender kisses pressed shakily against your lips, silence filling the room except for the quiet sound of your combined heavy breathing and your bed springs occasionally squealing when Joel shifted his weight.

"You good?" he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours with a deep breath. You nodded then winced when he withdrew his softening cock from between your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at you, searching your face very seriously for a moment. You opened your mouth to ask but the words died in your throat. Instead, you let him study you. Your eyes landed on the little wrinkles developing next to his eyes, the cute pout he made when he was deep in thought, the way his hair stood like a halo after your fingers pulled and tugged, rearranging the product that was combed through.

He kept looking at you, something happening behind his eyes, something meaningful. But just when you thought you were on the cusp of something, he blinked and cleared his throat, pushing himself upright.

"Lemme go clean up real quick," he said, glancing out into the hallway.

"Okay," you said quietly, watching as he sauntered naked through your room and disappeared into the bathroom. You could hear the sink running, then a minute later, the toilet flushing, and you suddenly felt cold. You reached for your blankets and slid underneath, and right when your mind was about to get carried away with self-doubt and too many questions, the door flung open and he stepped out with a determined look.

"I almost married Sarah's mom."

You sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to your chest with wide eyes. He was standing in your doorway, still naked except the condom was gone. His fingers fidgeted nervously at his sides and the romantic side of you found it poetic that he was fully naked and about to reveal something so personal, but you couldn't focus much on that.

"Why didn't you?"

Joel blinked.

"I thought I loved her, but I think it was just 'cause she was havin' my baby," he began. "I was thirty, just startin' to make a name for myself, made a huge fuckin' mistake and, I dunno, felt like I had to do the right thing."

"Thirty," you repeated, and he nodded. "Didn't you say that was when you built The Parador?"

He nodded again and finally moved from his spot in the doorway to join you on the bed.

"I was naive. I met her at this networkin' event with a bunch of other guys in the hospitality industry. She was just at the bar, all alone, wasn't even part of the event or a worker or nothin'. Shoulda been my first clue, but I was young and stupid."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled the blankets over his waist and leaned up against your headboard.

"I didn't know it, but she was goin' fishin' that night."

You tilted your head to the side, confusion written all over your face.

"She was lookin' to sink her claws into someone with money. She knew everyone at that event was somebody, so she cast her line and reeled one in."

Slowly, you began to connect the dots.

"She... she was using you for your money?"

Joel swallowed and nodded, his eyes darting around your face nervously.

"Did - you said the pregnancy was a mistake-"

"I don't know if she planned it, but it sure as hell felt that way after I found everythin' out. She was expectin' me to propose, thought she'd be set for life if she had my kid. Heard her on the phone one night with a friend who was doin' the same thing to someone else. Same night I came home early to surprise her after we found out we were havin' a girl."

"Oh, my god," you whispered in disbelief.

"It was wrong, I know it, but I was so fuckin' hurt," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I kicked her out. I know it wasn't Sarah's fault and I tried, I really fuckin' tried, but every time I saw her-" he pressed his lips into a thin line and dropped his gaze to the sheets. "Just reminded me of everythin', and I couldn't handle it."

"So... you don't have a relationship with her? Or with Sarah?" you asked. He shook his head but he kept his eyes shamefully fixed on his hands.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Joel's concern with Glenn and his emphasis on family, Tammy's vague insinuation on the yacht, Joel's inability to trust you, his resistance to opening up. It was all because he was afraid of being used again.

The fact he had never been in love sounded more like he had never allowed himself to fall in love.

But he was trusting you now. Something that was clearly very difficult for him to do while he sat in fear of judgement.

You scooted forward on the bed and tucked yourself into his side. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, curling yourself around him, trying to make him feel safe. His heart fluttered anxiously under his skin, you could feel it, but he slowly picked up his own arms and coiled them around you protectively.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"What- what're you sorry for?"

"For everything you went through. I'm sorry she broke your heart. I'm sorry you suffered for so long with this burden. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me before, but I promise you, I'm not judging you."

"I know," he replied, kissing the top of your head. You took another deep breath before speaking again.

"And I'm not after you for your money. I can understand now why you -"

"Sweetheart, I know," he said, cutting you off.

You frowned and looked up at him. "You do?"

He grinned and nudged his nose gently against yours.

"Yeah. Probably the only goddamn sugar baby in the world who didn't want money, so... yeah. I know."

You giggled and pulled away from his grip so you could look him in the eye.

"I mean, it's kind of ironic... you seeking out a woman to pay to be with you? Why would you-"

"'Cause I woulda rather had all our cards on the table and know up front it was just a business deal," he explained. "Didn't need someone sneakin' 'round behind my back tryin' to take advantage of me. Rather know from jump."

You felt your chest tighten a little at that, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning forward, giving him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He pulled you over to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, gazing up at you with stars in his eyes.

"But you wanted everythin' else except my money," he murmured. You shifted your eyes to the left and began to play with a curl above his ear, suddenly growing shy under his scrutiny. But he kept going.

"Always had a feelin', but didn't wanna believe it. Couldn't believe it, I suppose," he added, watching your eyes carefully as you continued to focus on his hair. "You never cared 'bout doin' anythin' extravagant on the island. Wanted to spend time with me at the beach, wanted to get food from a stand at the corner with our goddamn faces painted," he chuckled. You grinned and felt your cheeks grow hot.

"Then you left those envelopes," he said, and your eyes finally found his again. He let a heavy moment pass between you as you stared down at him. "Never even opened 'em. Gave you that first one the first night we were there. And you didn't open it."

You shook your head and a slow smile stretched across his face.

"Then with the hell you gave me and the bank 'bout the payment after we got back," he groaned, tilting his face to the ceiling like he was in agony.

"Fifty thousand was too fucking much!" you practically shouted, but he just laughed and pulled you closer.

"You actually fuckin' like me," he said in wonder. "Why would someone like you want anythin' to do with someone like me?"

You threw your head back and laughed, immediately recognizing your own words being parroted back to you.

"Because," you replied once your laughter waned, "you're a good man, despite what you may think. You care and you're sweet and you make me feel safe. You make me feel good about myself. You pay attention to things that mean something to me. You - I -" you cut yourself off with a quick shake of your head. "Yeah... I actually fucking like you," you finished with a slow smile.

He grinned and cupped the back of your neck, but before pulling you down for a kiss, he whispered, "How'd I get so lucky?"

The next morning, you awoke to an empty bed. If it weren't for the incessant ache between your legs and the soreness of your throat, you would have wondered if it was all a dream. You reached for the other side of the bed and felt the sheets cool under your fingertips.

It was Saturday. You didn't think he would have worked that day, but then again, it was Joel, so maybe he did. But would he really leave without saying goodbye? After you were so raw and vulnerable with each other the night before?

That was when you heard it. Faint humming and music turned on low coming from your kitchen.

Oh, now this you had to see.

When you rolled out of bed, you almost reached for your pajamas, but then you spotted his shirt neatly draped over your desk chair and you couldn't resist. You picked it up and slid your arms through, rumpling the fabric underneath your chin and taking a deep breath. It still smelled just like him. A mixture of deodorant, soap, cologne and hair products. A unique scent that was quickly becoming a favorite of yours.

You stepped out of your bedroom and peered into your kitchen, a smile pulling at your lips when you saw him pouring coffee for you both, wearing only his boxers with the sweet sounds of 80s ballads filling the air. You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, gaze slowly gliding over the strong, broad muscles of his back until he turned around and froze.

"Was gonna make you somethin' to eat and then I remembered... I don't know how to cook."

You burst out laughing and Joel grinned when he handed you your coffee.

"But you figured out the coffee machine," you said, taking a tentative sip and giving him an impressed look.

"That thing's a piece of shit, I'm buyin' you a new one," he scolded.

You dropped your jaw and frowned.

"No, you will not. It's not in its prime, sure, but it makes the best coffee."

Joel chuckled and wrapped the hand not holding his coffee around your ribs. Taking a step forward and dropping his chin had him towering over you seductively.

"Y'look real good in my clothes," he murmured, lips brushing against your forehead with a low hum.

"Couldn't help myself," you admitted softly, "smells just like you."

He pulled back a bit to give you half a smile. "You like smellin' like me?"

"Mhmm," you said under your breath, then nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and took a deep breath. "But now you smell like me."

Joel groaned and dipped his head lower, slotting his lips hungrily against yours. When his tongue slipped past your lips, you giggled and pulled away.

"I need some coffee first," you teased. He just smirked while his fingertips rubbed his bottom lip, like he were chasing the ghost of your kiss. His soft brown eyes were glimmering, so happy and content in your little living room slash kitchen. His cheeks were slightly pink and you weren't sure you'd ever seen him smile so much before.

While you sipped your coffee, you began to crack some eggs in a frying pan while simultaneously tossing some bread in the toaster. Meanwhile, Joel was nosing curiously around your apartment, inspecting little trinkets that he didn't have the chance to look at the night before.

"Snowglobe from Disney?" Joel asked, holding it up from across the room. You looked over your shoulder with a grin.

"My aunt and uncle are obsessed with Disney. They get me Disney themed shit every year for Christmas."

Joel hummed and placed it down gently on the windowsill before spotting a vase filled with sand and seashells. He smiled as he approached, too worried he would break it to pick it up when he asked, "When'd you steal sand?"

He heard you laugh and he turned back around.

"The day we were at the beach together. I had a ziploc for my sunscreen so, you know," you said with a shrug while you flipped the eggs. Joel gave the vase one more look, smiling to himself when he saw the new pink seashells scattered throughout.

"Where are you gonna hang the painting?" he asked when he saw it leaning up against the wall next to your television.

"I don't know yet. Maybe next to the door. Or maybe behind the couch," you answered, focusing on buttering the toast and turning off the gas before the eggs burned. You jumped when you suddenly felt his hands sliding around your waist.

"Supposed to go above the bed," he reminded you. Tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder, you grinned.

"You remember everything, don't you?"

"Sure do," he replied, giving your ass a playful smack before picking up both plates of food. "Where do you wanna eat?"

You both sunk into your old couch and balanced your plates on your knees, shoveling in forkfuls of food in between explaining the story behind every little thing that caught his eye.

Then he spotted your picture frames again. He leaned forward to put his empty plate on your coffee table and stood, his hulking, mostly-still-naked frame captivating you for a moment as he picked up a photo to study it.

"Your folks?" he asked, tilting the frame towards you. You squinted and nodded from the couch. "Any siblings?"

The question came out soft as he angled it back towards him.

"Nope. Just me. I've always wanted a sister but Celine was a pretty good substitute," you smiled as he picked up a photo of you and Celine on New Years Eve.

"'S'nice," he murmured thoughtfully, taking one last look at the photo before putting it back. He pretended to study a photo of you and your grandparents from your graduation when he added, "Probably best you got to pick. My brother's been a pain in the ass since I was old enough to ride a bike."

You perked up at the mention of his brother, folding your legs underneath you and setting your plate down next to his.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, still staring down at the picture. "Always usin' my shit and breakin' it. Buttin' in with me 'n my friends to do somethin' stupid. Got me in trouble more times than I can count with our Mama," he mused. He finally set the picture down and turned to look at you. "Then he got older. The fuck ups got more serious. Bailin' him outta jail every other weekend. Got a DUI one summer and had me haulin' his ass all over town."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you remained silent, just nodding your head and giving him your full attention, too afraid to spook him with any questions just yet.

"Then we grew up. I moved out here, six months later he follows, 'course," he said, sounded exasperated when he plopped down on the couch next to you. "Got a job at a hotel, 'fore you know it he's beggin' me for a job. Got 'em one workin' as a dishwasher in the restaurant inside the hotel but he fucked that up before I could blink an eye."

Before he even finished the story, you could sense where it was going.

"Finally, he finds his own way. Gets in with a construction company. And he did pretty good, too. I had my thing goin' on at the hotel. Learnin' from the manager 'n all that. By the time I was ready to renovate my first hotel, Tommy'd ended up owning his own company. It was small, but, hell... it was the best he ever got."

You chewed your lower lip anxiously, watching as his eyes slid over to your dusty television, staring at it blankly before he continued.

"So, I hired him. Hired his company to renovate part of the hotel. He even cut me a deal. Thought for once he'd finally pulled his head outta his ass and made somethin' of himself."

Joel fell silent for a few minutes, lost in thought while his fingers fidgeted nervously in his lap.

"Then what happened?" you whispered, worried if you had spoken any louder, it would have snapped him out of it and he would clam back up.

"Then... his company went under. He wasn't doin' shit by the book. Got caught payin' guys under the table and fuckin' up his taxes. And he had to start over."

You connected the dots even before he said, "He came to me lookin' for a loan. Lookin' to fix all his goddamn mistakes, like nothin' ever changed. And... I said no."

"And he never forgave you," you guessed. His eyes found yours and he nodded.

"Yeah. Never forgave me. Said I was turnin' my back on blood. Said he woulda done the same for me. But I just had fuckin' enough. I worked hard to get what I had. So, I refused and he had to move back to Texas. Last I heard he got a loan from our Pop and started a business down there."

You sat in silence for a moment, letting his story sink in with the only noise coming from horns blaring on the street below and your next door neighbor shouting at her husband to wake up for work.

"So... that's the brother story, huh?" you finally said, the corner of your mouth lifting when he met your eye and nodded. You shrugged and scooted closer to him on the couch. "That's not so bad. I understand why you did what you did."

"Had the whole situation goin' on with Sarah's mom at the time, too, but 'course he had no idea. Felt like he never asked me much 'bout my life unless he needed somethin'," he said solemnly.

You snuggled in close and lifted his arm to drape over your shoulders.

"It's never too late, you know," you told him softly. His thumb began to trace invisible circles over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"To make peace. With both of them," you replied. "If you wanted to, anyway. And if you ask me, it sounds like you want to."

"Oh, yeah? And how d'you know that?" Joel teased, pinching your arm and making you giggle.

"Because," you said, tilting your chin to look at him. "If you didn't want to, you wouldn't care so much. You wouldn't have kept all this a secret and you wouldn't think you're a bad person. But what do I know?" you said with a sigh before resting your head against his chest. "I'm just the sugar baby."

Joel's loud laugh echoed throughout your tiny apartment. You grinned when he grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap to face him, dark eyes sparkling as he gazed up at you.

"You ain't a sugar baby, and you know it."

"Then what am I?"

He cupped the back of your neck and brought your lips down to meet his in a gentle kiss.

"You're the woman I'm fallin' in love with," he whispered, voice trembling a little. You locked eyes, the surprise and excitement coursing through your veins causing you to smile so wide that it hurt.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied with a smile of his own. "Real goddamn inconvenient," he added, making you giggle and press another kiss against his mouth.

"Told you," you said breathlessly. "But we can take things slow, seeing as you're a newbie and all." Joel scoffed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

The dam had finally broke. All the secrets and lies were revealed. For better or worse, you both put your hearts in each others hands and trusted that the other would keep it safe.

As if reading your mind, Joel's hand dropped to your chest. He flattened his palm over your rapidly beating heart while you played with the curls on the nape of his neck.

"This is real," he stated softly, voice a little thicker than before. He had a look on his face like he couldn't believe it, and you smiled.

"Yeah, it's real."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[lesbianbarbaragordon]

Still thinking about last night

”No, no, but seriously,” you start, adjusting on your seat, “it wasn’t that bad. At least not by the end. I felt like we had-“ a connection, that you managed to see him as he was for at least the brittlest of moments. But the sentence dies at the tip of your tongue. You prefer to keep that to yourself. pairing: tim drake x reader tags: stalking, average tim behavior, college student reader word count: 1.7k

“Do you look up all your girlfriends?”

Tim doesn’t like the insinuation, but he shoulders on because Barbara’s network is far more extensive than his, far more even than the Batcave’s, and this is a favour, after all.

Your face is on full display, a shot from your ID, taking up the main screen on Oracle’s setup. You don’t look very happy.

Your hair is longer than when he met you the other night, and he sees the fading of some sort of dye on the tips of your hair. 20 years old, born and raised in Gotham, there is nothing outstanding about you.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he replies as an afterthought, his eyes on the screens. You enrolled in GU last year, took up journalism as a major. Why would a college student live in a warehouse? 

Because it has to be a warehouse, why else would it have been called like that in the files?

The incident that led him to your apartment is still something that embarrasses him. A mistake on his part, something that shouldn’t have happened.

He keeps going over the details, trying to understand; it was just the criminal of the week, a robbery gone wrong at a jewelry shop, hostages that shouldn’t have been there. He had been sneaky, gotten inside before anyone noticed, and released the hostages in record time (which was good, because when they started shooting, Tim was the only one inside). But one of the rogues got on the defensive when they saw he was one of the bats, had gotten a hit on Tim’s ear, and broken his comms. Then a shot in the darkness and a sharp pain took over his senses.

Which one was the lesser evil, running away to seek shelter while he was still lucid? Or detaining the rogues but risking further injury?

The final matter came down to “what would Bruce do?”

So Tim had pushed through, managed to knock them out, cuffed them somewhere the police would find them, and left before anyone else could see him.

The sky was raging, as expected of Gotham, when he stepped foot on the rooftops outside. His breathing was ragged, the pain was excruciating and he had left the Red Bird at the cave.

It only crashed down on Tim as the thunder and lightning erupted around him, shivering and in pain. Once the adrenaline left, it hit all at once-

He was alone.

It only took a second for the gears to kick in. He couldn’t access the Batcomputer, or call anyone who could help. He could take care of it without them, but where would he go? Leslie’s clinic was on the other side of the city, and after retiring it had fallen under new management, would whoever was i charge still treat vigilantes? There were no warehouses around the area either, not ones he remembered anyway, and the longer he thought, the more he started to fear bleeding out in the streets.

What other things did he have access to offline? His suit had prior saves of data, backup files from years prior. Tim accessed them with shaky hands. 

As he thought, not many places to go to in the area, but there was somewhere marked as a safe place. Somewhere that wasn’t Bruce’s but that was listed as Bat equipped. He headed there with desperation clawing at his throat, pain drilling at the back of his eyelids.

But he didn’t find what he was expecting. Instead, there was you and a mundane house. Somewhere that looked lived in, rather than a closet stuffed with expensive tech and medical equipment.

He realized too late, that the information was outdated, that he was going to die from a mistake.

Except he didn’t. Except you were there.

And he wants to figure it out, what kind of sane person could possibly do what you had done? He wants to figure you out.

“She isn’t shady,” Barbara supplies unhelpfully. She starts looking over your school records, your extracurriculars, you studied at the same school he did, nothing out of the ordinary; A book club, perfectly good grades, no problems with teachers or classmates. There’s an internship registered under your name at one of Gotham’s local newspapers, and there, a few articles on topics like battok trends or the latest celebrity scandal. The few lines he skims read uninspired.

The only thing Tim finds unusual is paperwork from the year before, for a cat you had adopted.

“I didn’t see any pets.” At least not when he was there. His allergies would have started making him sneeze like a madman otherwise. But what could he possibly get from that?

You’re perfectly ordinary, so ordinary Tim can’t possibly figure out why you’d be living full-time in a Batman safehouse.

And it’s driving him crazy.

Barbara hums, saying your name, and then, she says your second surname, your mother’s maiden name, “Thompkins?”

“Thought it was common,” Tim shrugs because he hadn’t taken notice of the detail during his first research. Barbara sends him a pointed look.

“Who was the safehouse registered under?” It’s a simple question, Tim realizes his slip-up on the next beat.

“Is she related to Leslie Thompkins?” 

“Grandniece looks more like,” Barbara supplies, pulling up your mother’s birth certificate. She digs up an old picture, a younger Leslie posing next to a smiling blonde woman, who holding up a med school diploma. Seems like your mother followed in her footsteps.

“The warehouse is registered under her name,” Barbara supplies, pulling up a scan of the apartment’s deed. Leslie Thompkins is clearly written as the owner. It must have been a safehouse for her, and subsequently for Batman, a long time ago. All before you took over. “You satisfied now?”

Tim says nothing at that, gnawing at his lip.

From the screen, your picture stares back.

…

“It was freaking scary.” You complain over your instant noodles. But they’re too hot and they scald, making you hiss. Your friend stares at you from across the table.

”Right.”

None of your high school peers stuck with you after graduation, so your list of friends remains painfully empty. And it would be a name shorter, had Claudia not appeared into your life.

You met during your internship, where she was interning too, at the literature department of the magazine. You’re both close in age and enjoy reading classics, so you spend lunch breaks together and bond over trash-talking your coworkers. She’s one of the few people you talk to in an otherwise silent existence. And she’s quite funny, too.

”It feels like one of those trashy romance novels, right?” She gestures openly, a sandwich in her hand. You’ve been telling her about your encounter with Red Robin for a lack of anything else. It’s the only interesting thing that’s happened to you in a while. “‘The superhero crashed at my place! And oh no, he’s naked!’.”

You snort, slapping her arm, “he was not naked! And it wasn’t romantic at all! I was so scared I’d throw up all over him from the stress!”

She chokes on a piece of ham, then starts to laugh. You start laughing too. 

It’s a relief having Claudia to make it all sound less scary.

Her laughing stops when her phone beeps and she pulls it out. Meanwhile, you choose to entertain yourself with your food.

”Is it that twitter account?” You ask half curiously. She hums in response, not looking up from the screen.

”Seems like bird boy hasn’t been seen in a while,” Claudia scrolls down her feed as she talks, quickly liking posts or replying to comments. She runs a popular fan account in her spare time that revolves around Gotham vigilantes, which is not a niche topic.  Most of the accounts themed around the bats, much like Claudia herself, are not native to Gotham. Rather, they’re from Metropolis or San Francisco, where the public regularly sees Superman or the Titans. Gothamites don’t have that kind of relationship with their heroes. “Red Robin’s been out of the streets since last Friday.”

”I guess that means you’re not lying,” she says teasing, which makes you blow a raspberry, “how did you do it, though? I would have messed up so bad.”

”Eh,” you start halfheartedly, “I took pre-med classes all through high school. I’ve forgotten most of it, though, but what little I knew came in handy,” you shrug, leaning back against your chair, “he had some pretty useful stuff, too. Super fancy equipment. That definitely helped.”

“Anyone else would have tried seeing under his mask, and you’re telling me what stuck out to you was his equipment?” Claudia laughs. “Maybe your next article will be about the bats’ tools. Does Batman carry around bat-bandaids? What about bat-snacks?”

You choke on your food, pushing down a laugh. It would be better than the stuff you’ve been writing about for these past few months, anyway. There are only so many influencers you can interview without going crazy.

”No, no, but seriously,” you start,  adjusting on your seat, “it wasn’t that bad. At least not by the end. I felt like we had-“ a connection, that you managed to see him as he was for at least the brittlest of moments. But the sentence dies at the tip of your tongue. You prefer to keep that to yourself.

“He was your favorite, you said, no?” Claudia catches on and continues, “I’d be just like you if Nightwing crashed into my apartment too.”

You’re about to retaliate, because-

Because what happened was not without meaning. You had realized he was more than an ephemeral figure or a distant idol, something as tangible as you, and that had made you stop fearing, for better or for worse.

But your boss peeks his head around the corner and takes sight of you both. “Your break is over,” he says and stands in the doorway as he watches you tidy up and throw empty containers and coffee cups into the bin.

Just as you’re leaving you catch something by the corner of your eye. On the TV is a fuzzy image of something humanoid, vaguely red and black. 

Wherever you go, the shadow of Red Robin follows.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Short Frank Drabble

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is a sweetheart when you aren’t feeling well.

warnings: swearing (I guess?), Frank being sweet, chronic pain mentions

a/n: my chronic pain has been so bothersome this week so I wrote this as catharsis. I hope you all like it!

w/c: 1.2k

Standing barefoot in the sun-streaked kitchen, you let the soft breeze waft over you as it drifted through the open window. The sounds of the city were carried to you atop the wisp of air–the beeps of early morning traffic, the distant sounds of machinery from the nearest construction site. Louder than the Manhattan ambiance, the pair of songbirds nesting on your balcony chirped and twittered. It was beautiful, serene.

Yet, from your place in front of the sink, your teeth ground together as you sluggishly scrubbed at the pan in your loose grip. Every joint in your body was pulsing with agony–a consequence of an injury you never incurred. This wasn’t a new experience. In fact, it was quite common, which was why you were frustratedly washing dishes until your painkillers kicked in.

You had tried to hold out, but after three irritating days and two sleepless nights courtesy of this renewed pain, you’d caved and thrown back a pair of ibuprofen on top of your prescription. There were a handful of reasons that could have contributed to a flare-up, but that didn’t bring you any consolation. Your flare-ups were usually short, and you tended to have a better handle on them than the ineptitude you’d displayed this week.

Sighing heavily, you narrowed your eyes at the charred mark on the frying pan you were holding, setting it atop the sink’s lip to apply more pressure. Vigorously scouring dishes was probably only going to make your existence less bearable, but sitting down and wallowing as your body ached ferociously wasn’t an activity you wanted to partake in. Well, not for the third time in 24 hours.

Finally making some headway on the patch of burnt material on the pan, your face was firmly twisted with a scowl when you heard the deadbolt unlatch. As the door creaked open, you listened to your partner’s heavy footfalls down the hallway towards you.

“You’re home early.” You forced out a huff of a laugh, strained smile across your lips.

Striding over to you, Frank’s broad shadow landed on the sink as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Squeezing you close, your back pressed flush against his chest, his chin tucking over your shoulder as he planted a kiss on your cheek.

“So? Last I checked, it ain’t a crime to run home to my girl.” He rasped deeply, tilting his forehead so it rested against your temple.

Shaking your head fondly, you leaned into Frank’s solid weight, allowing him to hold you upright. “You didn’t need to do that, Frank.”

“Who said I needed to? I wanted to, doll. Missed ya.” His voice quieted with the confession, your heart clenching with affection over his earnest tone.

“I missed you too. Always do.” You murmured, turning your face to kiss the bridge of his nose before turning back to the dishes.

“How long ya been outta bed, sweetheart?” Despite his best efforts, you spotted the concern bleeding into his words immediately.

Smile faltering, you gave a tiny shrug. “A bit. Wanted to get these done so I could cook something.”

“Shoulda told me you were hungry,” Frank frowned, stroking a thumb over your hip. “Woulda picked somethin’ up on my way back.”

“If I don’t cook the bacon in the fridge, I’ll forget about it again and it’ll go bad, so…” You trailed off, stifling a grimace at how weak the argument sounded.

Frank hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, thumb still tracing patterns into your soft skin. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and let me finish these, yah?”

Blowing air through your nose, you felt a small burst of annoyance in your chest. “I’m almost finished. It won’t take much longer.” Your voice was tight as you tried to keep your aggravation from coloring your words. It wasn’t Frank’s fault you were in a shitty mood. He was being sweet. But the suggestion still rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hey, look at me, dollface.” Using a strong finger to draw your chin upwards, he moved his hand to cradle your jaw when your eyes met his. “I’m not askin’ to take over because you’re takin’ too long. You shouldn’t be dealin’ with this crap if it ain’t gonna help ya feel better.”

Chewing at your bottom lip, you felt the telltale prickle in your throat and tear ducts. Shying away from Frank’s intense gaze, you buried your face in his firm chest. “I can do it.”

“I know ya can, darlin’. You’re the strongest girl I know. I just don’t want ya to hurt yourself over some stupid shit like the dishes.” Cupping the back of your head, Frank held you close, shielding you from the world.

Clamping your teeth onto your lip to keep the tears welling in your eyes from falling, you didn’t respond. Frank’s jaw rubbed over your crown as he spoke again.

“Can’t feel good to be standin’ here, usin’ your hands, can it?” Lashes fluttering, you felt your cheeks grow damp as your emotions overwhelmed you.

“No.” You muttered, flexing your hands to lessen the throbbing of every joint within them.

“I ain’t gonna force ya to do anythin’, sweetheart. But these can wait until you’re feelin’ better.” Rocking you ever so slightly, Frank’s hands splayed over your back, rubbing gentle circles as he patiently waited for your decision.

“What about breakfast?” You pulled out of his embrace slightly to scrub at your face.

“I know I ain’t a genius, but I can cook a pan of bacon.” Frank chuckled, swiping a lingering tear from your chin.

“But you just got home,” You pouted, wrapping your arms around him again, nuzzling into his soft t-shirt.

“Exactly. I’m starvin’. Go sit down and I’ll make us some food.” With one final kiss to your forehead, Frank jerked a nod toward the living room. You didn’t protest when he withdrew his arms, stepping out of your embrace and towards the fridge, but you didn’t move either.

Raising an eyebrow at you, Frank cocked his head. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”

Shaking your head fiercely, you dropped your gaze to your feet, bashfully shuffling in place. “No, just…”

“Just what, doll?”

You shrugged, insecurity churning within you. “You’re still in here.”

Smiling knowingly, Frank pulled the package of bacon and a carton of eggs from the ancient fridge, setting them next to the stove before holding up a finger. “Good point. Wait right there, sweetheart.”

Your eyes trailed after Frank as he paced towards your small dining room table. Lifting a single chair with ease, Frank carried it into the kitchen as if it was made of cardboard—setting it down to the right of the stove. “Better?”

Nodding sheepishly, you sank into the chair. “Thank you.”

Bending at the waist, Frank drew you into a kiss. “Always, sweet girl.”

Pulling your knees up onto the chair, you lay your chin atop them to watch Frank putter around the kitchen as he made breakfast. Though, this time, the smile on your face was genuine.

[7ndipity]

False Pretenses

fwb!Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Just how fair does the ‘benefits’ aspect between Friends with Benefits actually extend? Based on this meme.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: crack to fluff, suggestive moments and ending, swearing, Jk has side by side washer/dryer units cause it’s funnier, reader’s referred to as ‘Ma’am’, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I hope you’ll still like it tho! (I’ll also be posting a couple more pieces with this pairing in the next couple weeks, so keep your eyes peeled if you liked this)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was the type of text you had gotten more than used to receiving from him over the past few months, smirking down at your phone as you waited for the elevator in his building.

“Need you so bad rn. Come over?❤”

The heart was a new addition, he must be feeling particularly needy today, you thought to yourself as the elevator doors finally opened.

Since the two of you had established this new part of your friendship, it was rare for you to go more than four or five days without receiving some variation of the same short message from him.

You were still slightly surprised by his text, seeing as you had only been over the night before, but you weren’t complaining by any means. Though you may have enjoyed pretending that Jungkook was the needier one in your arrangement, if you were completely honest, you were just as affected by him, finding yourself missing him on the nights you didn’t spend together.

When he opened the door, you noticed he looked a little more disheveled than usual, his hair sticking up all over the place, as if he’d been running his hands through it, a habit you knew he did when he was stressed.

“You got here fast.” He noted, letting you into the apartment.

“Well, your text made it sound kinda urgent, didn’t want to leave you waiting too long.” You said, wandering through into the living room, slowing to a stop as you caught sight of the chaotic state of the space, cleaning supplies and laundry scattered around, furniture moved all out of place.

“What happened in here?” You asked, turning back to Jungkook, who was now avoiding your eyes. “Koo?”

“I lied, I didn’t want sex.” He said guiltily, looking up at you. “I need you to help me clean.”

“I-, what?” You blinked at him, unsure if you heard him correctly.

He slumped back against the counter, looking stressed as he ran his hand through his hair again. ”My parents decided to surprise me by announcing they’re coming to visit tomorrow, but I’ve done nothing but sleep since I got home from tour last week, so the house is a fucking mess and everything’s a disaster and I need help, please.” He pleaded, staring at you.

You immediately began pulling your coat back on, turning back towards the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Y/n, please!” He quickly followed after you, catching your sleeve. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll buy you dinner, I’ll rub your back, I’ll even let you pick what we watch for a month!”

You paused, turning to look back at him with a raised brow. “Even if I want to re-watch ‘Our Beloved Summer’ for a third time?”

He bit lip, trying to fight back a pained grimace before nodding slowly. “Whatever you want.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

“Fine.” You said reluctantly, caving as you saw the genuine desperation in his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Thank you!” He sang, catching you in a tight hug and spinning you around in a circle. “I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Yeah, whatever,” You grumbled as he set you back on your feet. “Where do we start?”

“Laundry room?” He offered. “It’s mostly done, I just need to vacuum behind the machines.”

Do you really think your mom’s gonna look back there?” You raised a brow, following him down the hall.

“She’s very thorough.” He said seriously.

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “I don’t quite see why I’m necessary for this part though?”

“I was afraid if I tried to clean back there by myself, I’d slip and get stuck or die.”

“So you want me to slip and die behind your washer instead?” You shot him an accusatory look.

“No! I’ll hold onto you and keep you safe,” He smiled reassuringly. “You know, like the buddy system.”

“I thought the buddy system was for camping so you didn’t get lost or eaten by bears?”

“It’s a multi-purpose system!” He said, his earlier agitation starting to flare up again at your teasing. “Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it, pass me the vacuum.” You relented, boosting yourself up on top of the dryer.

He held onto your hips to keep you balanced as you cleaned, his mind beginning to wander as he stared at your ass, his fingers starting to slowly knead your flesh absent-mindedly.

“Koo.” You warned, shooting him a quick look.

“Right, sorry.” He snapped back to attention, ceasing his movements and focusing back on the task at hand.

You finished up quickly, passing the vacuum attachment back to him and letting him help you down.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, looking around expectantly. “What’s next?”

The apartment wasn’t nearly as bad of a mess as he claimed it to be, but it still took both of you several hours of work to get everything back in order, finishing off with laundry and changing all the bedding.

“Why are these sticky?!” You asked, mildly horrified as you helped him strip the sheets off his bed.

“Relax, it’s just caramel sauce.” He said.

You looked up at him confused. “We didn’t use-?”

“No no, that was just me,” He explained quickly. “I had ice cream last night.”

“Without me?!” You said, clutching your chest in feign hurt, making him roll his eyes as he let out a huff of laughter.

“I’ll add that to the list of things I need to make up for, okay?” He said.

“Eh, it’s better than where my mind went.” You said, only half joking as you grabbed the fresh sheets from him and turned back to the bed. “Almost thought you were fucking around behind my back for a second there.”

Facing away from him, you missed the way his expression suddenly turned serious as he looked at you. “I would never.”

It was strange, despite the supposedly ‘casual’ nature of your arrangement, you both found yourselves making little comments like that, words and exchanges that sounded a lot more like things said between a committed couple, rather than just two friends helping each other out till you found something more serious.

“Alright, I think that’s everything.” You said, snapping him out of his thoughts. You had finished making up the bed, even turning down the covers for him.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said gratefully. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably called Hobi.” You smirked, making him snort.

“Now, you promised me food, and if you lie to me twice in the same day, I’m dumping your ass.” You said, earning another laugh from him.

“Alright, whatever you want, just like I said.” He said, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

“Although, if you wanted, I could make up for my false pretenses from earlier in a different way?” He offered, eyes darkening slightly as his hands drifted over your hips

You lightly shoved his hands away. “Not a chance, Loverboy, I’m way too tired now. You’ll have to try and ‘make it up to me’ some other time.”

“How about tomorrow?” He said, eyes twinkling mischievously, looping his arms around your waist instead to keep you close.

“I thought your parents were coming over tomorrow?” You reminded, raising a brow at him.

“You could come over after.” He suggested. “Hell, you could even come to dinner with us, my parents like getting to meet my friends.”

“Friends?” You looked up at him skeptically.

“Yeah, what?” He laughed, squeezing you lightly.

“Do you let your other friends suck your di-?”

“They don’t need to know the details of our relationship!” He said quickly, his face flushing slightly, making you snicker. “You’re still my friend, one of my best friends actually.” He added, in a soft tone.

The way he said it made your heart twist in a weird way, though you didn’t quite understand why.

“So?” He asked, staring down at you hopefully. “Will you come?”

You chewed your lip, considering. It felt like a really big commitment to meet his family, regardless of what your relationship was, but you tell it would mean a lot to him if you said yes.

“I’ll think about it.” You said finally.

He beamed.

“Thank you!” He said, leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering longer this time, tracing over yours lightly, making you shiver.

You pressed closer to him, hooking your arms around his neck as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue delve into his mouth as his hands grip on your waist tightened.

When you pulled back for air, his pupils were blown wide, eyes almost black as he stared down at you, breathing heavily.

“Take your shirt off.” You ordered, your breaths equally unsteady.

“But I thought you said-?”

“I changed my mind.” You cut him off, tugging at the fabric impatiently. “Shirt off, now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn

[luimagines]

You Give Him a Massage Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Hyrule, Legend and Sky

Content under the cut!

Hyrule

It was a long day. One that everyone nearly collapsing over themselves at the end of it. You were thankful that there wasn’t a lot battle that you had to do but that didn’t make it any harder to keep awake at the end of the day.

The group finally settled down to break camp but you couldn’t muster up the energy to help them sat anything up.

Looking around, it looked to be the general consensus of the rest of the group. No was willing to do anything. Wild takes out a flaming sword and makes the camp fire by striking a bunch of wood and calls it good.

He makes kabobs and that your meal for the night. 

You’re tired enough to find that you don’t really care for the lack of everything.

You sit by a tree, watching everyone half hazzardly throw round their bed rolls and flop into them for the night. You plan on staying up a little bit longer. At least until it finally becomes the hour your normally sleep at. You don’t plan on tossing away your sleep schedule that way. It would take weeks to get it back on track if you did. 

Wild goes to bed. Wind was the first to fall asleep. Sky follows his example within minutes. Warrior and Time struggle to decide which one of them goes to bed first since someone still has to take the first watch. Legend offers to do it just so they both shut up but he’s ignored.

Hyrule throws his bed roll close to you and flops down just like the others. It’s a little funny how similar they all are even if they don’t to do it. It makes you giggle

Hyrule looks up at the sound with a cross face. “What?”

“Nothing. Good night, Link.”

His face softens and he scoots closer to you. He places his head on your lap, making himself comfortable. You snort. “Better?”

“Yes.” He grins.

With an affectionate roll of your eyes, you put your hand sin his hair, carding through his locks gently before you start massing his scalp. You can see the way the stress of the day melts off of his with every pass of your hand. “...That’s nice...”

“Good night, Link.” You repeat yourself. Distantly, you think that you’re also going to have to sleep soon and you’re going to have to figure out how to get the boy off of you without waking him up- but that’s a problem for future you.

You keep massaging his scalp, taking quiet wonder at how soft his hair is despite the lack of up keep.

Your subtle, minute motions lulls you into a deep calm as well. You think you see Four awake still, even though he’s lying down. Twilight is also up against a tree on the other side of the camp but he’s huddled into himself. That’s going to be a horrible position to wake up if he stays asleep like that. You don’t want the same thing to happen to you.

You can feel yourself nodding off despite yourself.

You have to move Hyrule. You have to lay down before you also fall asleep against the tree. How do you move Hyrule without waking him up in the process?

You fall asleep with Hyrule still in your lap.

Legend

Legend growls somewhere off to your right.

You look over to him curiously.

Legend’s been rubbing the side of his head for a while now. His face is twisted in pain and his hair has been mused up in the process. His cheeks are pink and his hat is about to half off of his head from everything he’s doing.

You frown. “Legend, are you ok?”

He hisses but looks to you. In an instant his gaze softens when his eyes land on you. He had looked borderline angry before, but you’re thankful to know that it has nothing to do with you. “...I have a headache... hurts...”

You’re heart hurts for him. “How bad it is?”

“Bad.” He says. “I feel like someone is trying to cave in my skull with a hammer.”

You open your mouth.

“Not that anyone’s tried to do that before.” Legend eyes you tiredly before you can speak.

You press your lips into a thin line. Now’s not the time for poorly judged jokes. “I can help.”

Legend gets almost a pleading look on his face. “Really?”

“I can try.” You amend. Walking towards him, you take off his hat and urge him to sit down nearby. “Just let me know if you want me to stop, ok?”

“...ok..” He says, clearly willing to do anything if it means relief from his headache.

You start by gently running your hands through his hair. It takes a minute or two but Legend’s shoulder eventually fall from their hunched position. From there you start to rub small circles into his scalp, now that you’ve cleared away more of the tangles from his hair.

You start small, a little worried about the pressure you’d put on his already sore head but with time you gradually get firmer. You try to keep the pressure slow and steady, going in circles around his head.

It doesn’t take too long before you seem to find the area that’s been bugging him the most and focus in on it.

A small sound leaves Legend and you pause. “All good?”

“Mm-hm.” He hums and slowly moves his head this way and that. A beat passes and you see his face contort again.

You take that as your queue to start up again since the pain had returned. “Have you had any water today, Vet?”

You didn’t think he heard you until he finally makes a noise of acknowledgment. “...I think...”

“Hm.” You’re not impressed. “I’m going to go get you something to drink and if this happened because you were dehydrated then I’m going to yell at you.”

“Please don’t.”

“I make no promises.”

Sky

“Ow.”

You ignored it the first time.

“Ow.”

You ignored it the second time.

“Ow.” He hissed for the third time.

You sighed and looked over. “Sky? What on earth are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He bit his lip, trying to whittle a piece a wood into submission. You’re not entirely sure what it is he’s trying to make but he looks like he’s struggling with it. His hand makes a move and he hisses again. “Ow- by the three-!”

He drops the knife to his lap and cradles his hand. He seems to be pressing his thumb into the palm of his hand.

You move over to his side and take his hand. “You’re learning their figures of speech.”

“Completely on accident on assure you.” He growls, pouting as he watches your movements.

You bring his hand closer to you, tucking it close and slowly kneading into the palm of his hand. You can already see the problem. There’s a muscle out of place. Whether it’s twisted or stretched, you’re not sure. But it looks painful.

“How did you manage to do this?” You whisper to yourself, bordering on horrified.

Sky hears you anyway. “I’m not entirely sure. I just woke up this morning and it was like that. It doesn’t bother me too much, only when I move it a certain way.”

You grunt and keep up with kneading into his hand. Sky bites on his lip when you go particularly deep and squirms in his seat. You look up and tilt you head. “Hurt?”

“That time. Yes.” He keeps his hand limp in your hand at least, trying to not make it harder for you. “You don’t have to do this.”

“If someone doesn’t help you fix it, you’re going to make it worse.” You don’t leave room for argument. “What on earth are you thinking? Why would you be whittling? Clearly your hand needs to rest instead so that it can get better from whatever the hack happened to it.”

Sky at least has the decency to appear a little sheepish. “...I’m bored.”

“And dumb.” You flick his forehead.

“Hey now...”

“Hush.” You grin, not letting him defend himself. “It’s out of love and you know it.”

“Yes, I feel very loved right now.” Sky rolls his eyes, relaxing a little more as time goes by. Little by little, you’re moving the muscle in his hand back into place and it’s hurting him less and less. “...Thank you...”

You snort. “You’re very welcome.”

[anarchiii]

Worlds apart-13 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part Thirteen | warnings: angst, blood, violence, | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; pain and sorrow one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he isn’t meant for this world, but maybe for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Azriel’s POV

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Amren snapped, clearly having enough of his tensed body and impatience, everything, he almost wanted to say, everything was wrong, it had started an hour ago when he woke up to a nightmare where he watched as Celaena choked to death on her own blood right infront of a door, a human man simply watching her die, he stood there and could no nothing. It had felt so real. So real in fact that his love seemed to watch him as she lay there, tears falling from her beautiful eyes.

“She’s in danger,” he finally said, whispering more like it, what if she was dying right now, dead even? “Who?” He could barely think straight, she could be suffering right now and he wasn’t doing anything, “Celaena, I can feel it, I need to help her.” She looked up at him. Her eyes a blazing silver, she nodded once, eyes landing back on the book she was reading, after a few more minutes she said, startling him, “I’ve got it,” he immediately got up. A small spark of hope filling his chest but he ignored it.

“Let’s do it,” he said, before she could say anything, “right now, this very moment,” this was the first time he had seen the Firedrake look concerned but she didn’t disagree, besides, if it didn’t work, Rhysand and the inner circle would never know, they didn’t have much time if what he suspected was true, his family would understand, they had to.

She nodded again, running out of the Day Court library and down a long winding staircase, he didn’t ask where she was going, just followed, by the time they were reaching the bottom, he was out of breath, the exhaustion of running and barely sleeping for weeks could come later, love first.

“Grab Truth-teller and make a semi-deep cut along your forearm, don’t ask questions just do,” Amren snapped, dropping to the cold stone floor and flipping through the book violently, he indeed didn’t ask questions, just did, he made the cut, his blood flowing quickly. The ruby liquid like a river. Amren grabbed his harm harshly before dipping her child-sized fingers into the liquid and drawing marks on the ground, the same marks Celaena had drawn, though there was a difference between then and now, he was not afraid, he would not be afraid.

-

He forgot how terrifying it was, standing infront of the sickly green portal that would lead him—hopefully—to his darling, if he could even call her that, perhaps he would come all this way and show himself fully to her just for her to send him back home, when she didn’t realise that she was his love, was this all for nothing? Was he so pathetic that the first person that had shown him a love that wasn’t platonic made him think and act like this? No, this couldn’t all be for nothing.

He shook his head, trying to disperse those thoughts, Amren was eyeing him but said nothing, she had been incredibly patient, it was almost like she knew something he didn’t, there was no other reason for her to act in such a manner, she started tapping her foot on the floor impatiently, but still stayed silent, everything was so odd— right. He had to go now. If it was anything like last time then the portal would not be here much longer.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling, he went through it, picturing nothing but her lovely face, that pure smile that made her look goddess-like, the strawberry blush that covered her cheeks when he said something about her, the way she put her hands on her hips to prove a point not realising that she was like a beautiful siren to his sailor, the beautiful maiden seducing the unprepared guard, she was his temptress without even trying. Lovely.

-

He landed face-first on a marble checkered floor, the first thing he noticed was the haughty laughter and clinking of glasses all around him, he got up, groaning as the pain retested in his nose, he ignored it, everyone around him was in dresses and suits, except him. People around him were eyeing him and some blushing as they took in his body but relatively ignored him, Azriel bestowed the same upon them.

He also noticed a mousy-brown haired man watching him from a wall, in the same moment, another plain looking man appeared and instead walked up to him and offered a glass of champagne, he refused a couple of times but the man didn’t stop insisting so he grabbed the glass but didn’t drink it, he keep surveying his surroundings but there was no sign of Celaena anywhere, but if his dream was right, then she was near a wooden door. And she looked like she was in a hallway. The servants quarters, kitchens, or even power-rooms were his guesses.

He didn’t think to hard on it as he started running down halls and rooms, his surroundings seemed to become more familiar from the dream so he kept going, he was nearly there to where I knew Celaena was when something hard hit his head, he slammed into a wall but got up instantly and drew Truth-teller—the blade mercifully staying with him this time—he turned and faced the wait from before. He drew a simple long dagger and threw it—aiming for his head. Thankfully, he missed, moving to the side before welding his blade and slicing along his neck, the man bled out instantly and fell to the floor, not even a worthy opponent.

He didn’t linger long, wiping the blood off of his blade quickly and breaking out into a run as he raced to find his love, small puddles of blood lay on the floor, the further he went the larger they became, what the Hell? Bodies started appearing, the inflicted wounds janky and uneven, their eyes still open. Gazing to the covered sky. No matter what they had done—he still sent a silent prayer for them to whatever Gods inhabited this world, the Mother was not here to save him, she never had. Anyway.

He slowed down as to not slip and stopped, listening for anything, anything that could help, he heard gurgling, choking even, he turned another corner and beheld the sight in front of him, there she was, her sweat-covered forehead leaning against the doorframe of that oak door. Blood spilling out from her wicked mouth. Her lovely skin covered in old—and new—blood, blood, there was so much of it.

He slammed to his knees and came before his lovely Fire, her eyes flicked to his but held no emotion, the golden ring in them gone dull, she was dying, the woman he had dreamed about every second he had been away from, dying—suffering, he didn’t know what to do. Azriel had planned everything he was going to do and say to her when he was here but now. . . Now he was here. He was completely lost.

Her expression grew pained as time went on and he got enough sense to act, he took off his shirt and ripped it up into strips, wiping away all the blood to see what he was working with, she bore many wounds but he knew those were not the main cause, it was invisible, poison. He looked to the oak door and, before he could think straight, put his whole body weight into it and started shoving into it, it didn’t take long for the door to snap off its hinges and bang open, he rushed to the sink and started collecting water. Washing Celaena’s wounds and making her drink the liquid. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t very familiar with poison, only using it a handful of times, and the Cauldron knew what poisons people used in this world, Azriel had no antidote. He was useless.

He started crying then, utterly useless, perhaps this was his punishment for all the horrible things he’d done in his lifetime, forced to watch his heart stop in front of him, he didn’t stop the tears, didn’t stop them as they fell onto her pretty face, she was crying as well, neither could tell which tears were their own. He rested his brow on hers, closing his eyes and wishing to anyone that would listen to save her.

He heard the panting of breath first, he turned his head slightly to see Dorian rushing their way, covered head to toe in blood, a dagger hanging from his grip, his face laced with anguish as he took in his friend—friends, Celaena made a small whimpering sound as she spotted him, the Prince got on his knees as grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb across the scarred-skin, “I’m sorry,” he breathed, “I’m so damn sorry. Cel. I left you for five minutes and they attacked me, I fought them off the best I could—I see you did aswell,” a soft laugh accompanied by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “it was my Father that sent the men, he tried to take us both out, I should’ve known this would happen, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” The Crown-prince was shaking with barely contained tears.

This was all his fault, it was his fault Celaena Sardothien and Dorian Havillard were suffering, being punished for being good, being fare, these humans were infinitely better than him and yet they were suffering, it was cruel, it was torture. It was injustice.

He distantly heard panicked yelling—for the Champion and her friend, not him,—the stomping of feet and clashing of swords against swords, yet no one moved, there was no point, not when time was running out, her heart would only beat so long. A person could only be so strong for so long.

He heard a shocked gasp as those loud footsteps stopped, he didn’t turn around this time, though, he did react when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, he just kept staring at those lovely eyes, the dulled blue that had once been brighter than the sky, she was the light he had been searching for-for centuries. And now that light was going out. The fire in her was getting smothered.

“Azriel!” He heard someone yell in his ear, he came to, realising it was Chaol, he turned his head, looking into the man’s eyes, he didn’t move, just met eyes with her again, watching as her breathing turned slower, how she closed her eyes and didn’t open them for longer periods of time, he heard the Captain swear—a colourful combination—he pushed him aside and ran to his friend, holding her face in his hands. Azriel just watched. He watched as Chaol yelled for the antidote, watched as Dorian was dragged away by struggling guards, their expressions apologetic.

He watched, just as he had done his whole life, the only thing he had ever been good at—apart from killing and torturing, but that was and never would be something he was proud of,—he watched as one of Chaol’s men shoved a strange liquid down Celaena’s throat. Blood kept flowing from out her mouth but she swallowed. Nothing happened, it was too late, it would never work, he saw the truth in her eyes, she knew this was the end.

He crawled over the blood to her, putting his scarred hands that were so beautiful to her on her face, the marks looked so strange on her un-marred skin, beauty and the beast, he kissed her lightly, his lips staining with the scarlet liquid, he looked deep into her eyes. Hazel orbs meeting those of cerulean. Water and earth. The perfect clash.

In that moment, he used all the power he had to beg to the Gods, to anything, that he would do anything to let her live, even if that meant the end of him, he used everything he had to ask for mercy, he felt a strange thing flow through him, like a curious cat rubbing against his legs. Though its voice was older than the obsidian blade that lay discarded mere-meters away, “and what would you give me in return?” It purred. “Anything” he whispered, anything.

“Your soul, even?” Curious, to see what he would do for love, “my soul, yes,” it made a humming noise, like it was contemplating its options, if it could even do that, “your love will live, but you will not be standing by her side while she does, that is your price, if you visit this world again I will see to it that your Fae girl will perish.” It said. It’s voice cold and cruel, and—Fae girl? Celaena was fae, well, that wasn’t much of a shock but. . . Why didn’t she tell him? It made so much sense now, that un-earthly grace she held, the beauty she possessed that no human should have. Fae. He would’ve laughed in any other circumstances. But not this one.

“Okay, yes, i agree, but give me at least ten minutes with her,” he said at last, Chaol and Dorian were giving eachother wary glances as they watched Azriel talk to himself, he didn’t care, though, not when he felt the thing nod its head and watched in wonder as Celaena’s face brightened ever so slightly, her breathe evening out, it had worked, it had damn worked!

He kissed her again and again, he knew his time was running out now but he had enough time to kiss her, everyone else excused themselves, their faces full of shock and amazement at Celaena Sardothien’s recovery, but he didn’t care. He looked at the assassin again. Fearful for their time to end.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, brushing his fingers down her cheek, his beautiful, wicked thing, the woman with a heart of fire, his Fireheart, he had to leave her and yet he had never loved her more, the lady who walked with death by her side, the girl that smiled at the sun that rose and frowned at the sun that set, the female that kissed the scars on his hands and called them beautiful, she would make a great queen. And an even better lover.

He kissed her once more, the last time before grabbing a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and placing it in her hands gently, she didn’t move to pick it up or read it but that was fine, she didn’t have to, he didn’t cry this time, no, he smiled. Smiled as he looked deep into her eyes and said, no pain in his voice, “I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you, you were—and are, incredible. Never in my five hundred years of existence have I met someone like you. And I damn well hope the person that steals your heart realises that, you and I both knew this wouldn’t last, no matter how hard we wished it otherwise, there is a female in my world who is just as amazing, and I think you would love her, she’s not you—and never will be. But I think it would be easy for me to love her. As easy as it was to love you.” She nodded her head slowly, still dazed but seemed to understand what he was getting at.

“What is her name?” She got out, her eyes held no agony or jealousy, just pure, unfiltered love, he smiled, showing all his teeth, “her name is Gwyneth Berdara,” she smiled at that, copying his, she hit his shoulder in a playful way before saying, “very well, send me a solstice card,” he laughed, it wasn’t loud but it was full. Gods he adored this woman.

“You can count on it,” he said, she laughed softly at that, he kissed her head in goodbye before getting up, Azriel Shadowsinger was still smiling as he grabbed Truth-teller and made a return portal, and he was still smiling when he arrived back in the Day Court library, he was moving instantly, hugging Amren quickly before flying back home to Velaris.

-

He landed hard on the main balcony of the House of Wind but shook it off and made his way to the library, Clotho letting him in with a wink and a smirk, he ran through stacks and stacks of books and papers, the Priestesses curious but didn’t stop him, he kept running. And then he saw her—

He pulled to a stop right in front of her, her copper hair shining in the light of the candles, she didn’t reject him when he put his hands on her face, warm skin meeting that of cold, nor did she pull away when he put his lips against hers, no, Gwyn just kissed him back.

Yes, both Azriel and Celaena had a lot of healing to do but that would come with time, he knew the assassin was strong and would survive and not only that but flourish, but him on the other hand? He wanted this incredible Valkyrie by his side as he did, he wanted to wake up to her teal eyes sparkling and know she wasn’t going anywhere, to know she saw all of him and embraced it.

Celaena Sardothien and Gwyneth Berdara were similar in a lot of ways, but also so, so different, and he loved that, Azriel would never stop loving the haughty female that shone like the sun but he also had a lot more love to give, love that was reserved for the sassy red head and her only. His Oristian.

-

Celaena’s POV (bonus)

Everything hurt, and not just physically, not as Azriel said what he had said and handed her a piece of paper and simply left, she knew things would end badly but like this? Celaena had no idea what or who he had been whispering to before—because she’d slipped in and out consciousness many times—but all she did know was that whatever he had done, had worked. And she was so, so grateful, but. . . Now he was gone, she was alone again. Well, not really.

Dorian sat next to her, his eyes vacant as a few Royal healers patched him up, said Healers did the same to her, working quickly and quietly, no more than ghosts, she had stopped crying some time ago but her eyes still burned, her body still shook. She had nearly died. That wasn’t something someone got over instantly, Celaena had a feeling it would be a while of healing. Especially with the news.

It had gotten out that the King had attempted to assassinate his Champion and Son and the public had been outraged, revolting against him and seemingly snapping, it seemed all the citizens had gotten sick of the Rules he’d in-forced, and, rightfully so. Many people had-had enough of their family members being sent to Endovier or its sister camp, Caculla, the Assassin couldn’t help but agree with them.

But what had shocked her the most was that one of the King of Ardalan’s court members had gone rouge and killed the man, stabbing him right through the heart with his Rapier, she had been incredibly amused to hear that, apparently the old bastard was right, there were a lot of traitors working for him. Though, Dorian hadn’t found it amusing, simply nodding and staring at nothing, like he had been doing for two hours now.

She couldn’t find it in her cold heart to feel sorry for him. No, not as she remembered how much the man had made her and her family suffer for so many years, he deserved it, everyone in Erelia could breathe.

Sighing, she finally decided to open the folded paper the Shadowsinger had given her, it was relatively new but still had a few ink stains on it and lots of folded marks, as if he had opened and closed it many times before giving it to her. She breathed in—this was the only thing she could ever remember him by, faintly, she could smell the night-chilled mist and leather of his sent, and if she tried hard enough. She could almost imagine that lovely smile of his that she adored so well, her Azriel—closing her eyes for a second, she exhaled and began reading. . .

‘Celaena Sardothien-

I write you this to tell you all the things I could not voice out loud, if you are reading this then we did indeed not last, it pains me that we did not get to see how far our love went for one another but I think, even with the short amount of time we had together, that it was one of the happiest few weeks of my life, I have lived a long life but experiencing such a short amount with you has made me realise how unfulfilling it was without you in it, you made me feel alive.

I hope this letter finds you well and I hope that you are happier now or are getting there, you deserve all the joyous moments that you will have, I have never meant anything more than that—except for when I told you I loved you, perhaps I love another person when you’re reading this but you will always hold a special place in my heart, I hope the man that steals your fiery heart is worthy of it. And I hope he knows how damn lucky he is. A piece of my heart will forever belong to you, even when we both are nothing more than dust, I am yours and you are mine, just in a different world. Star-crossed lovers, remember?

—Azriel Shadowsinger’

The End. (Actually)

Note: this series is finished, I know it might not seem like much to some but this series kept me going when I was having a rough time and that is why I want to say a special thank you to these people;

-A big thank you to @cynthiesjmxazrielslover for supporting me through this all, I know we are only mutuals but you are a great friend to me and I couldn’t have done this without you, you’re my motivator and my inspiration, I love you girl, stay amazing. 🫶

-A big thank you to @azrielslittleslut for liking and believing In this series from the start, your stories are a huge inspiration and I aspire to one day write as beautifully as you do, Mwah. ❤️

-A big thank you to @shadowsingercassia for loving all of the chapters and making me want to keep going, you appeared halfway through the series but you might as well have been here since I started writing, your love for what I do has helped me more than you could’ve imagined, I know I am not a very big or popular writer but the one little like you give me amounts to hundreds others could give. I love you so, so much. Keep being the person you are. 🫶

-some thank you’s to @aelincaddel, @yashiw, and @snoopyspace for loving this series so much that you asked to be on the taglist, that little thing has meant so much to me. Thank you, lovelies. ❤️

Thank you once again everyone, even if you just liked one of the chapters from this series and no other, or rebloged one or even commented, thank you, that small gesture of appreciation made my day. The epilogue for this series is already written and I hope you all like it. I know some people wanted Celaena and Azriel to end up together but—sadly—that didn’t happen, but I hope the ending was still good. If anyone has any questions about something in the series. Please do ask.

I love you all so much and I hope to make more stories that are just as entertaining. ❤️❤️

-

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Raindrops falling on my Heart ♡

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N: Well, if that weren't a shitty couple of weeks �� anyway, I am back! The Leon brainrot has been eating at me for months and I finally caved, have some angst! With a happy ending of course, because I have a fragile little heart :) I have some more Leon in my drafts if y'all are interested ;) Enjoy!

~ Fi 🪻

Warnings: talks of alcohol being used as a coping mechanism, badly written fight, potential ooc Leon

Word count: 1.1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

💧○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○❤️‍🩹○○○○○○○○○○○○○○💧

💧○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○❤️‍🩹○○○○○○○○○○○○○○💧

"You always do this, Leon!" Your voice echoed through your shared apartment. "You know that it's out of my control" He responded, frustrated. You scoffed. "You were gone for three weeks. Three weeks, Leon!" You yelled, tears stinging in your eyes. "I was sat here, for three goddamn weeks wondering whether you were alive or not. One Text. That is all I ask. 'I'm save' or 'I'm okay' that is all I want. I need to know that you're alright." You pleaded.

He was gone for long periods at a time and you were a nervous wreck, tossing and turning at night, hoping, praying that your lover was alive. It was eating away at you, hearing that knock on the door not knowing whether it was Leon finally coming home or his officials to tell you that he didn't make it. It was agonizing, really.

Leon, who previously had his back turned towards you, turned around. "Sure, just let me tell the bad guys to stop shooting at me so I can text you. Also, have a little more faith in me, you know I wouldn't go down that easy." He spat back. He shook his head, scoffing. Making his way to the door, he grabbed his jacket and keys. "Where are you going?" You asked bitterly. "Bar" he replied coldly. "No, Leon! You don't get to walk away from this. You always do and it's solving absolutely nothi-" you were interrupted by the door slamming in your face.

Hot tears were running down your face. You two fought like this almost everytime he came back after weeks of disappearing. It always ended with Leon threatening to leave for the evening but he never did. Until today. He actually left.

Quiet sobs were escaping your mouth. You clutched your heart with both hands to help soothe the pain. Your Relationship was really put to the test with Leon having such a dangerous job. It was obvious he couldn't just stop the whole mission, but there had to be at least 5 minutes between saving the world and kicking ass where he could let you know that he was alive. Why didn't he understand that you loved him?  Why wouldn't he let you love him? "Stubborn son of Bitch..." you mumbled, tears drying on your cheeks.

Leon angrily stomped out of your apartment building. Having shoved his hands deep into his pockets, he stepped out into the pouring rain. He'd be soaked by the time he got to the local bar but he couldn't care less at the moment. He hated fighting with you, especially over something like this, something you have been over a million times. He kept his head down, the cold rain trickling down his neck into his shirt.

The stores, restaurants and buisnesses that lined the street, cast a bright light onto his face as he looked up, searching for the sign of the bar. He was a regular at this point. Coming in, sitting down at the very back in a cozy corner, and then quietly leaving when he had drunk his anger, frustration and pain away.

Looking around, Leon spotted happy couples roaming the streets on either side. Laughing, holding hands, smiling. It made him sick. How dare they pretend to be perfect when he knows for a fact that they aren't. Every couple fights. How dare they be happy. He shot them a bitter look and went on to get into the warm and dry embrace of the bar.

Reaching for the the door he stopped in his tracks when he heard his name being called.

"Leon.." you spoke, arms wrapped around yourself to keep you warm. "Can we talk? Please?"

He turned to face you. You were soaked. Your wet hair clinging to your forehead and your neck, the flimsy jacket you had grabbed in a rush doing little to keep the pouring rain and cold out. What are you doing here, you're going to get sick was the first thought that popped into his head as he saw you. But he didn't say that.

"What? You come here to yell at me again?" He asked, coldly. You took a couple of steps towards him. "No, I.." you sighed "I love you, Leon. And I care about you. I worry for you. But you just go on your missions thinking you have nothing to lose and no one that cares about you." Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks.

"But I do! I care. You have something to lose. Us. Everything we've been through. Every fight, every sleepless night, every kiss. I just don't understand why you won't you let me love you. You own my heart and take up my every thought. You're the love of my life, Leon. You're my world, my everything. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if anything happened to you. You are loved. I love you. Isn't that enough for you to not storm into every situation recklessly and put your life on the line for-" you were cut off by Leon pressing your head against his chest. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you let all your emotions spill out. Leon stayed quiet as you sobbed into his shirt, your tears mixing with the rain.

"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart" he whispered, you could hear the tremble in his voice. Pulling away from the embrace, you looked at him, seeing the faintest hint of tears in the corner of his eyes. you reached to his face and cupped his cheek gently.

"You deserve to be loved, Leon. Please understand that. You don't have to earn love or prove yourself worthy of it. Being you is enough. I love you." You sniffled, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. Leon leaned into your touch, placing his hand on yours and pressing it closer to his face. "I-.. Thank you. I love you too. So much." he sighed, a tear escaping his eye.

You gave him a soft, sad smile and carefully brushed the tear aside. "No more fighting, okay?"

"Okay. Let's go home, baby. I think Bingo's on tonight" he grinned at you, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. You two walked home in the cold rain, your hand clutched tightly in Leons.

After a much needed hot shower you were now both cuddled up on the couch, watching your favorite show but basically talking and laughing through the whole thing. You'd missed nights like these with Leon, the cuddling, the loving, the talking. You'd grown distant the last couple of months due to the frequent arguments. But now, all was well and you later fell asleep in Leons loving arms.

💧○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○❤️‍🩹○○○○○○○○○○○○○○💧

[irondiotallica]

Flare Up

I went a little ham with this one. Couldn't stop writing it seems, but here is a new blurb. It's def a little clunkier than the other one, but I like the idea of Steve becoming a physical therapist after everything and offering his services to the cute metalhead he's had a crush on since the upside down. Idk. Oh and fun fact, Times Square used to be the porn capital before the 1990s when Mayor Rudolph Giuliani shut it down to clean up the city. Anyway, enjoy the blurb! -Silas

[Steddie]

Eddie’s hip furiously blazed with a flash of stabbing pain. His joints had been bothering him underneath the scars left by the bats and their fucked up little teeth. The scarred flesh on his left hip was uncomfortably tight, pulled taut over his muscles and bones.

The damaged skin constricted his right shoulder, as though the skin would burst into a bleeding fissure with the tiny struggling breaths that Eddie was pushing through in labored waves. He was moments away from caving and taking a dosage of pills despite having agreed to take them less.

He felt as though his insides weren’t aware that he had been kept alive. It felt like his nerves had continued to decay turning into soaked cotton doused in kerosene with one little spark of discomfort able to render him incapacitated. 

Eddie shuffled to his phone with dread flooding through his system like an unprepared county during monsoon season. He knew that he had to call, but he was reluctant to do so. Even if he had been told it was no trouble, he knew it was more than it was worth.

He fidgeted, clenching his fingers around the coiled cord that connected the phone to the receiver. He dialed the numbers still imprinted in his brain from the day they had been hastily scribbled with a wolfish grin and intoxicating charm. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and Eddie began to put the phone back in its cradle when he heard a warm voice call out.

“Hello! This is Hawkins Physio Clinic, Dr. Harrington’s office. How may I help you?”

Eddie felt his face flush at the rush that hearing Steve’s voice gave him.

“Um H-hi,” Eddie coughed as he tried to clear the nervous lump from his throat,” Hey Steve.”

His words came out weak and nervous to his ears, he couldn’t imagine how it sounded to Steve.

Eddie could practically hear the grin that Steve was wearing through the phone.

“What can I do for you Eds,” Steve huffed out behind quiet chuckles.

Eddie tried to think before he spoke, but the words were flashing like the overwhelming neon signs that covered the porn capital of seemingly the world, Times Square. He continued to stumble through his words.

“Well, you said, uh,” his words were stubbornly refusing to come out of his mouth, thick with nerves,” you said if my joints were giving trouble, to call you.”

Eddie was not used to this. Asking for help was difficult and normally he wouldn’t ask, letting the issue fester, but he was dying. The pain was consistent and recurring. Somedays were good, but for the last week, he had mainly bad days filled with tears and laying on the floor praying for the pain to pass.

“I did say that. Are you finally taking me up on my offer? I’ve been told that I’ve got the magic touch.”

God, the cocky assurance in his voice was enough to make Eddie stand at attention in more ways than one, but another jolt of agony quickly snubbed that thought out.

“Fuck.”

It slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. His free hand gripped his thigh as he slid himself down to the ground waiting for the pain to pass. His breath was coming out short and a little frantic.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was warm and sweet like heated milk before bed as the cockiness dissipated, replaced with concern. Eddie wanted to answer, but the pain was crashing in waves and drowning him mercilessly. Still, he tries to answer.

“Ye-,” Eddie takes a deep breath in, feeling a few tears slip past his bottom eyelid,” Yeah, Steve. My nerves are just-”

Eddie breathes in again. He can’t stop the slew of pants leaving his lungs. 

“-misfiring. Just misfiring or whatever the fuck the doctor said,” he finally choked out, his voice tense and seizing with stress.

“I’ll be right there, okay? Just stay put.”

Eddie laughs at that although it comes out weak and soft.

“Where am I gonna go?”

“Oh shut up, you dork. You know what I mean.”

Eddie laughs a bit more before a groan leaves his lips at another jolt. He hears the click of disconnection and puts the phone down on the floor before laying on the tiles hoping for the chilly ceramic to ease the continuous, seizing torture. 

Eddie is still on the floor when a series of knocks echoes around him. Three rapid ones followed by four spaced out. Steve was here.

“It’s open,” Eddie calls out as he strains with tension.

Steve steps in and immediately heads to Eddie with graceful movements. Eddie looks at him through slitted eyes. Steve reaches down, pulling Eddie close, and murmuring sweet words to him. You’re so good, doing amazing, such a strong guy, so strong for me; flowing past his plush lips into Eddie’s ears.

A warm, secure, big hand grips Eddie’s hip as the palm presses down and drags his hip, resulting in a quick crack and Eddie feeling his joint loosen. Eddie pushed his face into Steve’s shoulder letting those hands massage his hip and the muscles surrounding it.

 God, Steve did have the magic touch, Eddie thought to himself with each warm bout of pressure. 

He let a sigh slip as those hands deviated to pop his shoulder before massaging the sore blades. He felt good, floaty in Steve’s care.

“There we go. Good job Eds. Always so good for me.”

Eddie feels his cheeks glow red as he tries not to think of the implications of those words. Eddie stays wrapped in Steve’s arms, comfortable.

“Thank you,” he stutters out with relief weighing his voice down.

Steve grins down at him with something akin to infatuation glimmering brightly in his gaze. Eddie couldn’t help but stare unabashedly at the pretty picture that Steve Harrington made. His warm brown eyes brimming with life. His little moles that were perfectly placed on his face as though planned. Those stupidly perfect, stupidly white teeth that Eddie had thought only possible in movies. Who could forget the hair? That stupidly styled mop of gorgeous mousy brown hair. Steve was stunning in Eddie’s eyes.

“If you really want to thank me, you could let me take you out this Saturday; see that new sequel to Alien?”

“You have the worst timing for things. Robin was right, you are a dingus,” Eddie teased, laughing at the way Steve looked away with a blush that went as far as the tips of his ears. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled out, squeezing Eddie just a little tighter. 

After Steve had finally collected himself, he looked at Eddie questioningly,” So? Are you letting me take you out?”

Eddie nodded with a grin, boyish and wide. 

Steve responded with a match grin and confirmation.

“It’s a date.”

[inlovewithpandora]

- I’m Tired Pt.3 -

This is the final part!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 (here)

Navagation || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

This series was inspired by the song above^

Pairing: Neteyam × Omatikaya fem!reader

Both Characters are 19!

Warnings: some angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of death (let me know if I missed any)

If your uncomfortable with this type of writing please click off!

Word count: 4.7k

Authors Note: I want to thank everyone who has been supporting this mini-series from the beginning! I appreciate all the support and love you guys have shown me! I hope all you continue to support me on my future works💗!

Glossary: ‘itan - son || ‘ite - daughter || yawntutsyìp - darling (or little loved one) || tìyawn - love

When Neteyam found you on the cave floor he took you to the healing pod where his grandmother would heal the wounded. When Moat saw Neteyam carry you in with blood running down your arm and with bruises all over you she could almost feel the pain that was inflicted upon you.

Moat put herbs on your wound and wrapped leaves around your arm that were coated with medical serum. She then put a paste over your bruises so they could eventually vanish. As Neteyam watched Moat work on you he felt a wave of deep sorrow go through him. All he could think about was seeing you bleeding out on the cave floor. All he could see was the blood staining the ground as it dripped down your thigh. He knew he shouldn't have gone hunting today, he knew he should've stayed home with you. He regretted leaving your side.

"Grandmother, is she going to be okay? Is she gonna die?" he said almost in a whisper hoping that he wouldn't hear bad news

"No but right now she is with Eywa" Moat said calmly while still tending to your wounds

"What do you mean with Eywa?" Neteyam asked confusedly. He didn't understand how you weren't dead but you were with Eywa

"Y/N is getting the answers she needs" Moat told him not wanting to give him any more details. She knew what was happening in the spiritual realm but she thought it was best for you to share your experience once you woke up.

"How long will be before she wakes up?"

"It could be days or weeks. It all depends on how her soul and body responds"

Neteyam just nodded his head, taking in everything his grandmother told him. He bent down beside you, grabbed your hand and held it against his cheek, "Y/N please come back to me, I need you. I can't do this life without you" He told you while tears ran down his face and onto your hand.

Neteyam didn't know when you were going to wake up but he wasn't going to leave your side until your eyes fluttered open.

It's been almost a week since Neteyam and Jake found you in the cave. Neteyam hasn't left your side unless he necessary. He has been giving you around the clock care. He’s been making sure to keep you hydrated by brushing a cloth of freshwater over your lips every hour on the dot. Instead of sleeping he watched over every night, hoping you would miraculously wake up.

Everyone kept telling him he needed to relax, that he needed to go home. Take some time and gather himself. But how could he manage to do that when the love of his life was in between life and death.

Jake and Neytiri tried to have him come home and get some rest multiple times but Neteyam wouldn't listen, "Son you need to come home and get some proper rest. You can come back once your fully rested" Jake told Neteyam trying to reason with him

"No! I'm not going! I'm not leaving her again! The last time I left sh- she-" Neteyam began to stumble over his words as tears fell down his face. He didn't want to leave you again because he didn't want anything else to happen and he wasn't there. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he let something happen to you again.

Neytiri went over to her son and engulfed him in a hug, " 'itan I will stay with her until you come back. I promise nothing will happen to her, if she wakes up I will call you on the comm okay?" She began looking at him with pleading expression.

She could see how exhausted and drained he was from the dark circles and bags around his eyes. She could tell he hasn't been eating from how undernourished he looked.

Neteyam saw his mother practically begging him with her eyes while his father gave him the same look. Neteyam let out a sigh before answering his mother, "You promise you'll call me if anything happens?"

"Yes, I promise! now go get some rest" Neytiri said as she shooed him off with his father

Neteyam kissed you on your forehead before leaving out the pod with Jake. As Neytiri sat next to your unconscious body she took in all of your injuries. She could see faint bruises on your face and neck, the healing gash on your arm, and the other old wounds you had on both of your arms.

She wondered what would make you do this to your beautiful skin, why would you hurt the body Eywa has blessed you with? She questioned what caused you so much pain that would make you go to this degree. She wondered where those bruises came from. She wanted to know why you would try to remove yourself from among the living.

As she continued pondering she heard someone's footsteps walk inside the pod, "I see you Neytiri" Your father told her as she stood up to face him

"I see you ___" Neytiri replied

"How is Y/N doing?" He asked Neytiri trying to sound as sincere as possible. The only reason he came was to see if you were awake and if you spilled out your 'family secrets'.

"She's doing fine, we're just waiting for her to wake up" Neytiri told him as she moved to the other side of the pod and grabbed some herbs and serum-covered leaves to change your bandages and reapply herbs on your scars and bruises.

"Mm okay, well when she wakes up let me know. I'll be taking her home immediately" He told Neytiri before he exited the pod

Neytiri was suspicious about your father's behavior. This was the first time he came to see you since you've been in the healing pod and she picked up on his insincere tone. She didn't like the aura that was gleaming from him. She could feel a dark presence with him when he entered and she felt it vanish when he left. She knew something was off with him.

As Neytiri continued healing your physical body. Eywa was helping you heal your inner soul.

As of this moment your spirit was at the Tree of Souls, "Oh Great Mother, I'm so sorry!" you cried out with your neural queue connected to the tree. As you weep in front of the tree regretting your decision, the ground began to glow with bioluminescent light while the tendrils of the tree began to glow a brighter shade of pink.

You looked around confused about what happening until you saw a silhouette of someone. After a few seconds, you saw a navy blue-skinned woman walking up to you. At first, you were confused about who this woman was until you realized she looked identical to you, "Mother?"

"Yes, Ma'ite it is me" Your mother spoke up as she opened her arms waiting for you to jump into her embrace. You immediately ran up to her and jump into her arms as joyful tears ran down your cheeks.

"What's wrong yawntutsyìp?" your mother asked you as she pulled you back and began wiping the tears that were staining your face

"I-I I'm just so happy to see you! I never thought I would be able to see or hold you or even talk to you" You told her as you were taking in her appearance and presence. You couldn't believe your mother was standing right here in front of you.

"I'm happy to see you too! I've been wanting to do this ever since you were born" She told you as she tucked your hair behind your ear

"I'm sorry that I caused you to.... be here. If it wasn't for me you could still be alive and Father would be happy" you told her as you looked down at the ground feeling guilty as if it's your fault she was dead.

Your mother immediately shook her head and put her fingers on your chin to lift your head so you could look into her eyes, "My child, this is not your fault. Eywa called me home to live among her because she believed it was my time. My death is not your fault" she told you sincerely.

She began to examine your body and could see the bruises and scars on your body. She felt disgusted that her mate could ever do something like this to you. She hated that you had to go through this alone. She hated that you felt like cutting was your only escape.

"The things your father does and says to you are disgraceful, you need to leave him at once"

"I- I can't he said if I leave I would have to die so that's why I am here, I took matters into my own hands" you told her as tears streamed down your face as you thought about yourself cutting in the cave

Your mother looked at you feeling nothing but empathetic. She understood why you did what you did, but what you didn't know is that you would never have to take a drastic measure like that again.

"You do not have to fear your father anymore, Y/N. After today your father will never be able to hurt you again." Your mother told you as she rubbed your arm to comfort you

"W-what do you mean?" You asked her confusedly. You didn't understand what she meant because once you woke up you knew that you'll have to go back home to him.

"Eywa has sent me to you so I could relay a message. She wants you to know that your father will never lay another hand on you or speak any vulgar words to you ever again. Also, she wants you to know that she sees your pain and can hear your cries of suffering. She will make sure you have a safe environment to live in and you'll never have to go through anything like that again" Your mother told you as she grabbed your hand and ran her thumb across your skin.

"Where will I stay? Where will I go once I leave here?"

"You'll see once you wake up. I know how much you yearn for motherly love, how much you yearn for a family and it breaks my heart that I can't give you what you deserve. When you leave here you will find what you've been craving. The hole in your heart will soon be filled. You will be overwhelmed with love."

You were surprised by everything you heard your mother told you. You were going to find what you've craved? You would be overwhelmed with love? At the moment you couldn't fully understand what that meant but you were anticipating on finding out.

"I want you to know that Neteyam is a good boy for you" she told you while a smirk spread across her face and she nudged your shoulder

"How did you know about him?" You asked her as a small smile came on your face as well

"I've been watching over you. I've always watched over you from the time you learned how to walk until now. I've seen how Neteyam cares for you, protects you, and loves you. You have totally stolen his heart. He's been with you every day since he found you in the cave."

"He has?"

"Yes, Neytiri had to practically beg him to go home and get some rest. He wanted to stay with you no matter what, he didn't care if he didn't eat or sleep. The only thing he cared about was you waking up" Your mother told you with a smile on her face. She was so happy that you found someone like him and that he loves you no matter your faults.

"Wow I-I don't even know what to say" You told her as you stood there surprised by what she told you

"Say that you'll go back to him. Say that you'll grow old with him and have numerous children. Say that you will fight for him" she told you eagerly, trying to give you that motherly push that she knew you needed

"But I'm tired of fighting Mother I don't want to live like that anymore" you told her as you shook your head not wanting the darkness to consume her again

"This time you won't be fighting to live or die. You will be fighting to have happiness and peace, you will be fighting those negative feelings away for good"

"You promise?" You asked her looking into her eyes trying to make sure she was telling the truth

"Yes, my child I promise! This time you will win this fight, you will not lose" She told you as she pulled you into a hug, pouring out all her motherly love onto you.

As you embraced her, once again the ground began to glow brightly as the tendrils on the tree glowed a brighter pink.

"Mother, what is happening?" You asked her as you pulled back from her looking confused

"Eywa is calling me back, it is time for you to go."

"But I don't want to leave you, I want to stay here with you. When I leave here I will miss you deeply"

"I will always be with you, in here" she told you as she pointed to your heart. "Whenever you want to see me come visit me at the Tree of Voices and I will be waiting for you. I will be always watching over you, I love you Ma'ite and I see you." She caressed your cheek as tears fell down her face. She didn't want to say goodbye to her little girl but she knew she had to you

"I love you too Mother" You put your hand on top of hers and gazed at her, soaking in her presence and affection one last time before everything went dark.

As Neytiri was wrapping the new leaves on your arm she saw one of your fingers suddenly move. She paused her movements and began watching your body closely, trying to see if anything else would happen. She then saw your eyes slightly open as they began to blink to adjust to the light.

Her eyes immediately lit up with joy as she pressed her fingers on her throat comm, "Neteyam! Y/N is awake! Come now!" She said into her earpiece excitedly

Neytiri looked at you and grabbed your hand, "Y/N it's me Neytiri" She looked at you with a smile on her face. She was so happy you were awake, she knew Neteyam missed you dearly and she missed having you around.

You finally opened your eyes and could see Neytiri looking down at you, "Neytiri?" you said groggily as you tried to become aware of your surroundings

"Yes, it's me! How are you feeling?" She asked you as she reached over and got you a bowl filled with drinking water so you drink it

You sat up slowly and took the bowl from her and began drinking from it, once you were done you finally answered her question. "I'm feeling better" you told her as you thought about the talk you had with your mother. Talking to her gave you a sense of peace and strength. It made you realize that everything was going to be okay this time around.

"Great I'm so glad your feeling better, your father said to let him know when you woke up so he could take you home" Neytiri told you as she finished putting the leaves around your arm.

"W-when did he say this? Did you send someone to get him already?" You asked her hoping that she didn't send someone

"He came by earlier and I already sent someone to get him" As you heard her say that you felt your chest tighten as your breaths became more rapid. Neytiri looked at you confused as she tried to figure out what was happening, "Y/N what's wrong?" She asked you as she tried to calm you down

"Neytiri I need to tell you something before he gets here"

"What is it?"

"My father is not the good man he portrays to be. He is an alcoholic. He abuses me emotionally and phy-" Your sentence was cut off by your father furiously walking inside the pod. He heard everything you told Neytiri and he was ready to make you pay for disobeying him.

"Didn't I tell you not to tell anyone!? I told you the consequences if you tell anyone and you still didn't listen to me!" He yelled as he stood across the room walking towards you. You immediately stood up and went to the corner of the room trying to escape your father's rage.

As Neytiri looked at you in the corner of the pod with fear written all over your face it all made sense to her now. He's the reason you have the bruises and he's the reason you cut. She realized all this time he's been the one causing you all this pain.

As your father attempted to get closer to you Neytiri stood up and hissed angrily at him as her tail violently swung behind her, "DO NOT YELL AT THIS CHILD! THIS IS YOUR FAULT SHE IS LIKE THIS WITH ALL THESE WOUNDS AND BRUISES!"

"SHE WOULDN'T HAVE THEM IF SHE LISTENED!" He told her as he tried to walk past her and get to you

Neytiri pulled out her knife and immediately went into protective mode, "MOVE AND I CUT!" she snarled at him as she moved in front of you

Jake and Neteyam were outside walking towards the pod and could hear all the yelling going on inside. As they got closer Neteyam could hear your father and Neytiri yelling. He immediately ran inside to see what was going on.

When you, Neytiri, and your Father saw the curtain pull back all of you turned your head and saw Neteyam walk in with Jake behind him. As Neteyam looked at your father you could see how angry he became just by the sight of him. When your father saw Neteyam storm in he let out a dark chuckle, "Y/N what did I tell you about this boy the first time? Hm?" He asked you with glimmers of evil in his eye

You looked at Neteyam with sadness in your eyes. You didn't want to tell him what your father said and you didn't want Jake and Neytiri to hear either, "You said that he was using me for my body" you mumbled out

"And what did I tell you yesterday, when you came home?"

"That I was a slut and nobody would want me especially Neteyam"

When Jake, Neteyam, and Neytiri heard these words they were all disgusted by your father. They couldn't believe he would say those things to his own daughter. His own fresh and blood.

"You are the most pathetic and pitiful man I ever met! How could you tell your own daughter these things?! How could you put those bruises on her?!" Neteyam yelled at your father as he pointed to you

"I can do whatever I want because she's my daughter! She needs to be taught a lesson! She needs to learn that she is a FREAK and that nobody will want her when she cuts herself like a manic or if she's ran through like some slu-"

Your father's words were cut off by Neteyam pulling out his knife and creating one long slit across your father's chest that began to release droplets of crimson liquid, "Talk about her like that again, and it's going to be your neck getting cut next time!" Neteyam shouted at your Father as he screamed out in pain

Neteyam ran over to you and made sure you were okay. After you reassured him you were fine both of you began walking out of the pod together with his parents following behind the both of you.

As your father watched both of you walk out he felt like he was losing control over you, he realized his authority had no hold on you anymore. "I WILL KILL YOU NETEYAM! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!" Your father yelled out

When Neteyam heard your father say that he broke out into a laughing fit "I'll like to see you try!" Neteyam told him as he turned around and kicked the back of his leg making him slam into the ground

"And while I have your attention let me make one thing clear" Neteyam said as he crouched down next to your father's face "If you EVER say anything to her, come near her, or even lay a finger on her you will die. You will go meet Eywa and live among your ancestors so you can stop making her life a living hell" Neteyam told him as he pulled out his knife and put it against your father's neck with a malicious smirk on his face

"I will take this knife and plunge so deep into your chest that you will have a long slow death or I could use my great archery skills and shoot you with my arrow and cause you to die instantly from the impact on your heart" Neteyam told him as a dark chuckle fell from his lips

"So before you even think about coming near her again remember this little chat" Neteyam told him while he patted his chest where the cut was which made your father yelp out him pain

He stood up and looked at your Father with a contorted expression before he turned around and faced you, "Are you okay tìyawn?" He asked you as he examined you from top to bottom

"Yes Teyam I'm fine, let's go home" you told him as you clasped your hand into his

A smile spread across his lips as he heard you say the words 'home'. He loved hearing you consider his home as your own. As both of you walked to his family pod you knew that from here on out that your life has officially changed for the better.

It has been three months since everything happened and your life has been filled with nothing but pure bliss. it. Your father hasn’t spoken a single word to you or even looked your way. All the negative emotions you once felt have now passed. You've been living with Neteyam and his family and you've been loving every minute of it.

By living with them you finally began to understand what your mother told you at the Tree of Souls. When you officially came to live with Neteyam's family they drenched you with love. They gave you the family you always wanted, you now had the family you always wished for.

Neytiri showed you so much motherly love. You and her went hunting together, cooked together, made jewelry together, and she gave you motherly talks and advice about anything you needed.

You and Jake would do things together as well. You too would joke together. Both of you even had an inside joke that only you two knew the meaning of. He would tell you stories about all the crazy adventures he endured when he first came to Pandora. You would always sit there listening attentively, eager to hear Jake's stories because you loved hearing about how he was so reckless and adventurous. Over the months, he became your father figure and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You also had a great relationship with Neteyam’s siblings. All of them loved having you around, they looked at you as an older sibling.

You and Tuk would always have tea parties together and play with toy hexapedes. Both of you would make necklaces together for the family as she talk to about everything she saw in the forest that day.

You and Kiri would run through the forest and admire the different flora. Sometimes the two of you would sit down in patches of moss and practice different healing techniques that Moat taught both of you while she told you about her relationship with Spider.

Now you and Lo'ak have a different kind of relationship. Both of you would always tease each other, crack jokes, and have little petty arguments at times. Both of you knew that it was all fun and games though, the relationship y'all had was an average brother and sister-like relationship and you loved it.

You admired the relationships you had with all of them and you loved them dearly.

You and Neteyam's relationship has flourished over the past months. You two were closer than ever, both of you even spoke about getting a pod of your own soon.

As you were in his room making yourself a new bracelet he came inside and sat down next to you, "Hello beautiful" he said as he planted a kiss on your cheek

"Hi my tìyawn" you replied as you continued concentrating on making your bracelet

"What do you plan on doing today?" He asked you as he rested his hand on your thigh

"I'm glad you asked because I want to take you somewhere" you told him as you put down your unfinished bracelet and grabbed his hand while standing up

"Where are we going?" He asked with a smile on his face wondering where you were going to take him

"I can't tell or it'll ruin the surprise. You'll see once we get there" You began dragging him out of the pod and into the depths of the forest

As you walked through the forest you finally made it to your destination. Both of you were standing in front of the Tree of Voices, "Teyam I want you to meet someone, I want you to meet my mother!" you told him with a bright smile on your face.

You have been coming here almost every day to talk to your mother but Neteyam never came along with you. He always wanted you to have your alone time with your mother but now you want him to meet her.

"I'll be happy to meet her" Neteyam replied as he admired the joyful expression on your face.

Both of you walked up to the tree and pulled your braids from behind your backs. Both of you looked each other in the eyes before letting your nerve endings intertwine with the tendrils of the tree.

You could feel so much happiness at this moment. You loved how your life turned around for the better. You were thankful that Eywa saved you, you were thankful she blessed you with Neteyam.

The end

Previous || Next

I hope you enjoyed💗!

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are highly appreciated💗!

©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

Tags🏷️ : @fanboyluvr @julyytsireya @number1gal @navegaluv @ladespedidas @agelsully @itsaleidasworld @anxietydrogz @sunnysolhaze @liyahsocorro @myh3artttt @jiminbabygirl @kierys-blog @ilovehotpeople101 @haileymsstuff @eggtofu363 @potatoknishesoffical69 @theycallmesia @tiredmamaissy @pandorxxx @klumpa @pandorasfavorite @normspellmann @ihuggavatar @persefolli @multifandom-167 @yeosxxx @ilovejakesullysdick @etherialblackrose @luvriablack

[gilded-moon]

flown the coop (but the birds fly home)

Summary: Omega has been gone with the Rebellion, and now she returns with news. Luckily for her dads, it's good news. They aren't sure they could take much else.

A/N: Hi! This is the first Bad Batch fic I've ever written, so I hope you guys like it! Adult Omega has my heart. Anyway, enjoy! (word count: 977)

Warnings: none!

It had been four months since Omega had left to join the Rebellion. Four months since Hunter had let his little girl fly away without him. It had hurt, deeply, but he was used to the pain now.

She’d kept up contact very well. They know Omega was safe and happy in the Rebellion. Well as safe as someone who fought the Empire could be. In her last call, Omega had told them that she was coming back for a few weeks before leaving again.

Nothing could quite describe how happy they were to see her again. Even Crosshair had managed a rare smile when Omega had announced her return. In fact, Wrecker had been so excited about her return that he had woken them all up at the crack of dawn to get ready for the small party they’d arranged.

It made Hunter laugh.

They were all currently waiting at the cave dock for Omega. She’d said that she would arrive in the afternoon, and it was currently two.

“Is she gonna get here soon?” Wrecker asked, straining his neck to look for approaching ships. “She said the afternoon!”

Hunter slapped his shoulder. “She’ll be here soon, Wrecker. Just give her a little bit of time.”

“Well I miss her! And I bought a lotta Mantell Mix for her.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it.” The faint humming of a ship made him turn. “I think I hear her. That sounds like the Mini Marauder.”

Crosshair squinted at the horizon, toothpick rolling in his mouth. “It is. I see her.”

The ship circled around the bay a few times before slowly flying into the cave and landing. Omega waved from the cockpit as the ramp lowered. Hunter waved back. When Omega finally exited the ship however, she wasn’t alone.

A Togruta woman who was nearly the same height as Wrecker walked off with her. The Togruta had pinkish-red skin and headtails striped with gray and white. Her eyes were a bright green, and she smiled at them as she stopped at the bottom of the ramp.

Omega ran over to Hunter and squeezed him tightly. “I’m back! I missed you so much.”

He returned the hug. “Hey kid. I missed you too. Who’s this?”

She smiled a little awkwardly and grabbed the Togruta’s hand. “This is Caisin Monki’li. She works for the rebellion too. We met when I went for my first mission, and now um…she’s my copilot. And my girlfriend.”

Caisin waved. “Hello,” she said in an accented voice. “Omega talk about you much. It nice to meet you.”

Wrecker scratched his head. “Girls can date girls? I never thought of that.”

Omega rolled her eyes. “Yes Wrecker.”

“Oh. Congratulations!"

Caisin winced at his loud voice.

“Oh sorry,” he said at a quieter volume. “I didn’t mean to be loud.”

“It okay. You seem much nice. Sorry my Basic not so good.”

“Mine ain’t great neither. Nice to meet ya!”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Crosshair inclined his head. “Hello.”

Caisin inclined her head in return. “Hello…Crosshair I t’ink?”

“Yeah. That’s me. So you want to date Omega then?”

“I do.”

“What do you do for the Rebellion?”

“I spied for a long time. My aunt used to be Jedi. I follow her path. Now I help Omega.”

“You can protect her?”

“Very well.”

“Provide for her?”

“I can.”

“You won’t ditch if things go wrong?”

“No. Honor is very important. That great dishonor. I will stay.”

Crosshair hummed and shrugged, the closest thing to a verbal approval he would ever give.

Omega and Caisin looked to Hunter next. He thought back to all the times he might have lost Omega, all the times that she might have lost him. The time when she had asked what dirt and grass and trees were. For so long, he’d seen her as a child that needed protecting. For so long, she’d been a little girl that needed her family.

But she wasn’t that little girl anymore. She knew so much about the world now, and she was more well traveled than even he was. Omega might have been that little girl once, but she had grown up a long time ago.

Hunter smiled and clasped hands with Caisin. “Welcome to Pabu.”

*

“Hi Hunter,” Omega said as she sat down next to him with an ice cream in both hands. “I brought you one.”

He chuckled and took it. “Thanks kid. So how has the Rebellion been treating you?”

“Pretty good. I’ve been flying supply missions and even got in a few scrapes. They love the Tech Turn.”

“I’m glad. He’d be proud of you, you know. You’ve come a long way since Kamino.”

“That’s all because of you. I couldn’t have done any of that without you. All of you.”

“We didn’t do any of this Rebellion stuff for you.” He gestured to Caisin who was arm wrestling with Wrecker. “Are you happy with her?”

Omega smiled though her cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah. I think I love her.”

Hunter ruffled her hair and returned the smile. “Good. That’s all we ever wanted for you. To be happy and choose how you want to do that. If that’s with her, we’re with you all the way.”

“It is. I…I want to marry her someday. Not yet! We both need more time. But someday.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad I sat with you guys at lunch that day.”

Hunter watched as Caisin cheered, having won her arm wrestling match with Wrecker. Crosshair even clapped her on the back with his flesh hand instead of his metal one. Echo had also sent along his congratulations and promises to visit when Hunter had messaged him about Omega’s news. Even if it was unexpected, it was good for everyone.

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

[madneedshelp]

Hiraeth - Danny Wagner x FReader

Hiraeth: a deep longing for a home to which you cannot return

Summary: You thought life would hurt less if you broke off your painful long distance relationship, but it turns out that’s quite the opposite, and now you have to fight to reclaim the home you once had in him.

Warnings(i guess?): language, breakup, angst to comfort, happy ending bc I’m a softie

“You can’t lay in bed forever. Your boss is bound to fire your ass if you don’t get it together, babe.” 

You looked up at your best friend as she stood above you. She was right. You were a grown woman, and here you were wallowing in bed over a breakup that happened two weeks ago. 

“Just leave me alone. I appreciate you trying to help, but I just need to be alone.” You grumbled and rolled over. 

Things had been okay for a while. Right after the breakup, you had went about life as normal. That lasted for about a week. Then you started realizing that you felt so much worse than you had before you ended your two year relationship with Danny. 

It made sense to breakup. He was a drummer in a famous band, which meant he was always gone, and you felt the connection between the two of you fading. It took a lot of debating, but you finally came to the conclusion that you should end it. 

Now you were starting to think maybe the connection hadn’t been fading, but you had just stopped trying to make it work. 

“Please just get dressed and go get some coffee with me. I need to see you get out of the apartment. You’ve been holed up in here for a week.” Your friend pleaded. 

“Are you really not going to leave me alone?” You sighed, turning to face her again.

“Nope.” She stated firmly. She was a law student, and very very good at getting her way. 

“Fine.” You pulled the cover back and crawled out of bed. “Let’s get a coffee then.” 

She grimaced and scanned your rumpled appearance. “How about you shower and change first?”

You looked down at yourself and accepted that she was right again. Another wave of sadness hit you as you thought about how you let yourself get in this state. You had to fix things. 

An hour later, you were showered and dressed and on your way to get coffee. You made sure to put some effort into your appearance because you thought it might make you feel better. It didn’t, but at least you didn’t look as bad as you felt. 

“Isn’t this better than staying in a fetal position under your comforter?” Your friend sighed and took a sip of her iced latte. 

You shrugged and sipped your own drink. “I don’t know. I guess.” 

She shook her head. “You can’t keep wallowing. I love you, but this is not healthy.”

“I’m not wallowing!” You fumed, but she raised and eyebrow and you caved. “Okay, maybe I’m wallowing, but what else am I supposed to do? I royally fucked up with Danny, and now I go home to an empty apartment from a job I hate, and I feel so lost. I don’t know what my endgame is anymore.”

“I keep saying you should call him! If you feel this bad and you genuinely think the breakup was a mistake, you two should talk about it. At the very least, you’ll have closure.” She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.

You ignored the growing uneasiness in your stomach. “I don’t think I can just call him up and say ‘sorry I dumped you, but I still love you and I fucked up’ out of the blue.”

Your friend leaned over and put a hand on your arm. “Listen, babe, I’m gonna level with you right now. I have not liked any of the guys you’ve dated before, except for Danny. He’s a good one, and if you think there’s a chance to save things and if that’s what you really want, I think you should try.”

“But it’ll still be long distance, and clearly that didn’t work before.” You huff. 

“I’m not going to tell you how you should conduct your relationships, but I will say that he did make an effort to visit you and call you. I know you, and I know that you like to shut down when you’re hurting. When you called me and said you felt like you were in a rough patch, I could tell that you were already telling yourself it was over. All I’m saying is that if you both really try, I think maybe you could make it work.” 

You looked down at the drink in your hands. She did have a point about the shutting down. It was a defense mechanism that you put in place after one too many douchebags treated you like shit, but it honestly wasn’t fair that you deployed it on Danny. 

He sent you flowers when he couldn’t be home in person. He called you almost every day, and texted if he couldn’t. He flew home to see you as often as possible. He was a good person. You were just scared. 

You couldn’t be scared if you wanted him back. He felt like home to you, and you’d never felt so alone with him gone. If you wanted to change things, you had to fight. What was that thing his brother Josh liked to say? ‘Fuck fear…’ something something? Whatever, you just had to be brave and go fix the mess you made.

——————

That’s how, several hours later, you found yourself just outside of Nashville. The drive was long, but you were a little grateful it gave you some time to plan your speech. You would’ve bought a plane ticket, but you couldn’t really drain your savings, so the drive it was.

Danny had a place near Nashville, like the rest of the band. He didn’t stay there too often, only when he had work. He mostly stayed at your apartment when he was off, but you still knew where to find his place. You just hoped he’d be there when you showed up. 

You pulled in the driveway and shut off the engine. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you forced your door open and made yourself walk up to the door. You came all this way to talk to him, and you couldn’t let yourself get too in your head. 

You rang the bell and waited. There was a long moment of silence, but then you heard a light shuffling inside. You knew you should’ve been relieved that he was home, but your heart seized up. 

It’s just Danny. You’ve talked to him for thousands of hours. You love him. No matter how many times you repeated that in your head, you still felt like you could either pass out or burst into tears. 

The door swung open and you were met with the sharp brown eyes of the man you still loved. 

“Hi,” you croaked, practiced speech immediately leaving your head. 

As he stared at you, his eyes seemed to soften slightly. God, you loved his eyes. Oddly enough, you even missed them. 

“What do you want?” He practically whispered.

You swallowed thickly. It seemed you were leaning closer to the burst into tears side of things, and you were trying so hard not to do that. “To talk. If that’s okay.” 

He nodded and stepped aside so you could enter. He shut the door quietly and led you into his living room. It seemed a little messier than usual, and it looked like maybe he’d been sleeping on the couch. 

“Do you, uh, need anything? I’m guessing you drove and I know it’s a long trip.” He asked.

“No, I’m good.” You shook your head, trying to keep your voice from quivering. 

He sat down on the chair opposite yours and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “So what did you want to talk about?” 

You hated how nervous you were, and how unprepared and scattered it was making you feel. “I just…I don’t know where to even start…I guess I should start with I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Dan, I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. I ran from you instead of talking. I’ve been a shitty girlfriend, and that wasn’t fair. I’m just so sorry for all of it…and I miss you. I miss you so badly that I don’t know why I thought ending things would fix my hurting. I messed everything up so much, and I wish more that anything that I wouldn’t have…wouldn’t have…have left…”

You broke off the end of your rant unwillingly as sobs took over and you couldn’t keep going. You felt pathetic, and you were sure that’s what he was thinking too. Here you were, having driven all the way to Nashville, groveling and crying in his living room. He had to think you were a crazy ass mess. 

In the midst of your mental spiral, you felt the seat dip down next to you. Warm, strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. Danny didn’t say anything for a while. He just held you against his chest and let you cry, which you honestly needed. 

“I miss you too.” He murmured into your hair.

You pulled back enough to look up at him. “You do?”

His own eyes were a little watery, but he seemed to be doing a better job of holding it in than you were. “I do. So much, honey.”

“Do you think we could try again? I know I need to work on a lot of things with myself, but I promise I will be better. I won’t shut down and I’ll make a better effort at communicating. I won’t take it for granted. I love you so much Dan, you’re my home and I can’t lose that.” You met his eyes, hoping and praying that you had a chance. 

In answer, he leaned forward and kissed you. It had been entirely too long since he’d pressed his lips to yours, and you felt yourself melt into him. 

He broke away, just for a second. “I love you too. I know I travel a lot, but it only feels like coming home when it’s you I get to come back to.”

You felt a great relief sweep through you and a fresh wave of tears began to trickle down your cheeks. This man was your whole world and you intended on spending the rest of your life making sure he knew that. 

“Hey, don’t do that. It breaks my heart when you cry.” He swiped some tears away with a brush of his thumb. 

“They’re good tears. Not like the psycho begging tears from earlier.” You added with a shaky chuckle. 

He chuckled softly with you before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I don’t think those were ‘psycho tears’.”

“Really? I drove all the way here to ask for you to take me back, that doesn’t seem crazy to you?” You laughed, snuggling into his side.

He seemed to hold you closer too. “Love makes you do crazy things sometimes, I guess. But honestly, no, I don’t think it was crazy.”

“Why not?”

He nodded towards the front door. “See that bag? I packed that right before you got here. I have a plane ticket to go see you for a flight that leaves in an hour.”

Before you started to cry again, you leaned up and kissed him again. It brought you some comfort to know for sure, even though you already knew deep down, that you’d always come back to one another. 

[damnaation]

A Sunless Place

A monster hunter ends up a little closer to a vampire than expected.

Soft, safe, slightly reluctant but willing vore. Monster hunter Phoenix & vampire Juniper.

There was no way her leg would support her, and there was certainly no way she would be able to climb out of this cave.

Phoenix had gone off alone, tracking reports of a missing teen and odd happenings—it had sounded like a spirit of some sort, inhabiting the cave they were now trapped in. They'd managed to dispel it, but not before taking a tumble into the blackness and quite possibly breaking their leg.

They were a sitting duck like this. No food and not enough water to last more than a day or two, and the forest the cave was in was inhabited by monsters. Their illustrious career would end with an ill advised solo hunting trip, their remains discovered in a few weeks when the next spelunker stumbled upon them-

The sound of rocks clattering jolted her out of her morbid thoughts. Clutching her knife tight, she peered into the sunless dark beyond the feeble glow of her flashlight—it had been flickering since her fall, and would likely go out before long. Nothing distinct caught her vision at first, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

With one final burst, the light died, leaving her in darkness that human eyes could never adjust to. But that one last moment had given her a brief glimpse of eyes in the dark, reflecting red back towards her.

Their blood went icy—they knew there was at least one vampire in the area, and red iridescent eyes was one of the telltale signs. Fumbling for their bag, they pawed for the vial of holy water they carried, but let out a pained gasp as they sliced their fingers on shards of glass instead. It had broken in the fall, just like their flashlight and potentially their leg.

“You're out of your depth, little hunter.” A voice called from the darkness—smooth and masculine. It echoed off the rock walls, leaving her disoriented and unable to track where it was coming from. The sound of footsteps and shifting rocks only added to the difficulty, leaving her completely discombobulated and unsure of what direction an attack might come from.

“Are you just going to sit there and toy with me, or get it over with?” The young hunter snapped, grip tightening on their knife. They wouldn't win a fight under these conditions, but they'd certainly leave more than a few wounds before they went out.

At least until a hand wrapped around her wrist, strong enough to keep her from moving but not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

“I don't see why I can't do both.” The voice murmured in her ear, making her heart skip a beat as he pulled the knife from her grasp.

“You fucking ass- real funny, John.” She snapped, but couldn't help sagging with relief at the familiar voice of her… well. She wasn't in danger, at least. Even if he thought it was funny to scare her. Their relationship was complicated, but she knew he wouldn't harm her.

“My apologies, little bird.” He hummed, still sounding a bit smug as he took their other hand to—presumably—inspect the cuts there. “But really, we have to stop meeting like this. I'm starting to think you like me carrying you out of danger.”

“I don't think the first time counts.” They responded dryly, before startling at the feeling of him licking their fingers—gross, but they knew vampire saliva was a coagulant—and then letting out a pained wheeze through gritted teeth as the motion jostled their leg.

“You won't be able to put weight on that.” A hand settled on her knee, just that faint bit of added pressure sending a sharp tingling shooting down their shin. “I’ll have to carry you out, and it will probably hurt.”

… Vampire venom had pain killing properties, she knew. But as banged up as she already was, it was probably a bad idea.

“What time is it?” It had been evening when she'd entered the cave, but she'd lost track of time. If the sun was up, it wouldn't be safe for Juniper to get near the entrance.

“You have bigger things to worry about than losing your beauty sleep, my dear.” He responded, making a shuffling noise that sounded like he was digging in her bag- oh, shit.

“Be careful- I broke a vial of holy water.” They reached out, blindly waving their hand until they touched him. “That's how I cut myself.”

“I could tell. Had a bit of a kick.” The rasp of a zipper accompanied his words, before they heard him hold the bag out. “That leg should probably be splinted, just to be safe. And you might have to hold your bag in your lap.”

“Ah- yeah.” That was smart, and she'd probably want something to hold onto that she wouldn't have to worry about digging her nails into—her leg was already bad enough just sitting there, it would no doubt be worse when he picked her up, even with a makeshift splint.

“Alright. Brace yourself, firebird.” The clunk of wood against stone sounded as his hands brushed against their leg—it took a moment for them to think of what he could be using, but the only things they had on them that could work were stakes. Ironic.

They shivered, suddenly feeling clammy as a wave of lightheadedness overcame them. “Should be rope, I think-” Their voice came out more feeble than expected, and their stomach churned nauseatingly.

“I found it. Just hold still, this might hurt.” Unable to see anything, she did her best to stay still, biting back a pained cry into a sharp whine as he tied the makeshift splint into place. Every little jostle felt like a white-hot iron being pressed into the bone of her leg, and a dull buzzing had started up in her ears by the time he finished, muffling his murmured apologies. “Okay. The hard part’s over. If you pass out now it's fine.”

Chuckling weakly, she flailed around with her fist for a moment before finally delivering a soft whack to some part of his arm. “C’n we get going? It feels like's been hours in here.”

“Hold on.” His arms wrapped around her, one behind her back and one under her knees—already sending a jolt of pain through her leg, and he hadn't even picked her up yet, but it wasn't as bad as splinting it had been. Clutching her bag tightly, she gave a tense hum, and after a moment he lifted her off the ground—getting a sharp gasp as her leg was suddenly left dangling, a hot, sharp ache settling into the bone. A profoundly unpleasant sensation, but manageable so long as she didn't dwell on it.

The typically off-putting undead coolness of his skin felt nice against their bruises, and they rested their head against his shoulder as it quickly felt too heavy to keep up on their own. He hardly seemed bothered by their weight, picking his way back out of the cave with careful precision.

After what could have been anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, as far as she knew, she felt him pause, grip tightening slightly on her. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced up at him—and then realized she could see. But not in the dim, dull colors of moonlight—shady and indirect, perhaps, but she could see a full range of hues, from the reddish rock of the cave, to the cool blueish undertones of Juniper's skin, to the green of the trees outside.

“... Sun’s up.” She murmured.

“It is.” He responded, fingers digging into their side for a moment.

They were both stuck now, at least until nightfall.

“Should get away fr’m the entrance—don't want you gettin’ burned.” They could see a brief flex of muscle as he clenched his jaw for a moment, a look of frustration overcoming him at their words.

“I'm not going to just take you back down there, that's ridiculous.”

“John, f’you get hurt m’fucked either way. Not gonna be able t’get outta here on my own.” And this wasn't a common enough destination to count on anyone coming by and rescuing them. “We'll jus’ wait a little further in.”

“No. I think there was something following us. It stopped a while back, but I'm not keen on putting you back in danger, Phoenix. Whatever it was, I don't think it's much more fond of sunlight than I am.” The vampire murmured. “It's safer for you here.”

“One wrong reflection an’ we're both dead anyways.” She retorted, the foggy feeling in her head starting to fade in favor of frustration. “Unless you've got a portable darkroom in your pockets, it's not safe for you here.”

… Well, now that she said that, she might have an idea. An absolutely insane, ridiculous one, but still.

“... Put me down.” They just had to hope nothing they needed had broken in the fall.

“I know that look.” He gently set them down on a rock, kneeling down at their side between them and the depths of the cave. “You have some hair-brained scheme up your sleeve.”

“Yeah. I'm light proof.” They responded, digging through their bag desperately. There—the small grimoire was slightly damp from the shattered vial of holy water, but still readable. And the soft bundle of cloth with it seemed undamaged.

“... You're going to have to elaborate.” He eyed the book apprehensively, keeping his hands well clear but still staying close. “Did you hit your head?”

Oh, excellent—the little jars of materials had survived, wrapped in their fabric padding. She set them to the side before carefully starting to page through her book.

“I've been learning things that might be useful—protection, warding, that kind of stuff. And some things that just seemed interesting.” Hopefully him being a vampire wouldn't cause problems, but she hadn't had any issues before with non-human subjects. “One of which being a shrinking spell.”

Juniper tensed slightly at their side, putting a hand on their knee to pull them out of their thoughts. “Phoenix. What are you thinking.”

“I can shrink you and keep you out of the sunlight. I'm light proof—it might be a little gross, but if I swallow you-”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” He interrupted, a hand cupping their cheek to turn their head to face him. There was clear concern in his gaze, brows furrowed as he studied them carefully, along with a small amount of apprehension. “Doll, you need a hospital. You're not making sense."

For a brief moment his gaze drifted, settling on the old scars on their neck before flicking towards the mouth of the cave. Red iridescence flashed, overwhelming the rich hazel of his eyes for a brief second and making him look unsettlingly inhuman. With a soft sigh he leaned forward, hand sliding from their cheek to the back of their neck as he pressed a cool kiss to their forehead. “I will be fine. I've survived nearly thirty years on my own without a coven, one sunny day won't do me in. I doubt the sun would even reach this far, anyways.”

Phoenix leaned her head into his touch, reaching up to brush his hand as it returned to her cheek. “My head is fine, John. I know what I'm doing. And there's moss here—it gets at least a bit of sun.”

He looked nervous, glancing away before closing his eyes and sighing heavily. “Couldn't you just put me in a pocket instead?” His voice held a note of apprehension as he spoke. “That seems simpler than… the alternative.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest, and with a soft hum she turned her head just enough to brush a kiss to his palm. “It wouldn't be completely light proof, and I'd be worried about hurting you. But I promise, it'll be okay.”

After a few seconds he hung his head in resignation. They had extensively thought it through, but they also understood it was a lot to drop on him.

“... Fine. But be sure to use some of that protection for yourself—just in case our lurker decides to make a move without me here. And let me out as soon as it gets dark.” He still looked tense, but shifted to sit cross-legged on the cave floor next to them.

“I wouldn't be able to get very far without you, so that's not a worry.” She murmured with a bit of self deprecation—her leg would keep her in place quite efficiently. “It'll just be until sunset. And you can rest if you want—you're up late, for you.”

Juniper snorted softly, a half-grin appearing on his face for a moment. “Always trying to see the positives, aren't you. What all will your spell entail?”

Giving him a soft, reassuring smile, they turned back to their little grimoire and collection of materials, grabbing one of the bottles and holding it up to look at the label—yes, this was the right one. They handed it to him as they spoke. “Not much. It shouldn't take long. Drink this.”

“What is it?” He asked, peering curiously at the dark liquid inside before opening it. She could see him go still out of the corner of her eye as the scent hit him.

“One of the strongest protections I know.” Powerful magic required sacrifice. For this, not much—just a drop or two of her blood, along with several herbs used for protection. No silver, holy water, or wolfsbane, but still just as strong. They were both well aware he'd taken more than a few drops before, and she would freely give up more if asked.

He drank it without a word, like throwing back a shot before setting the bottle down, looking at them expectantly.

“Okay. Now for the other part.” Strictly speaking, the potion hadn't been necessary, as the shrinking magic had some levels of protection built in, but they would rather be safe than sorry. Even if he was a vampire capable of recovering from injuries that would kill most people, he could still feel pain, and they didn't want to run the risk of hurting him, even accidentally.

Pawing through the other bottles, she pulled out a few filled with dried leaves and such, setting them down on the book to hold the pages down. “Are you ready? It's a little disorienting.”

“As I'll ever be.” He murmured, gazing at them with a slightly apprehensive but still trusting look in his eye. They'd had plenty of chances to harm him if they had wanted to, and they both knew it.

“Alright.” With that, she began to read from the grimoire. The materials in the jars took on an eerie blue glow, along with the words on the page, eventually wreathing around Juniper’s body as well. She couldn't look up to see or she'd lose her place, but once she was done she blinked a few times, shaking her head to clear the odd feeling magic always left, before turning to look at- well, where he had been. He was still sitting there, of course, but now at only a few inches tall.

“You weren't exaggerating. This is weird.” His voice was quiet enough they had to strain to hear him, watching as he looked over his hands before looking up at them.

“Do you feel okay?” She asked, setting the book and now-empty jars aside before lowering a hand palm-up to the ground next to him.

“A bit of vertigo, but it seems to be fading.” Getting to his feet, he slowly made his way towards her hand, hesitating for a moment. But he eventually climbed on, a slight, cool weight settling into the center of her palm as he sat down.

They gave him a few moments to get settled before carefully curling their fingers and lifting their hand up towards their face. Raising their other hand, they cupped it slightly around their palm to block any potential stray reflections from outside as they peered at him.

Some part of her was amused at the abstract concept of a tiny vampire, even as the rest of her gently cradled him in her palm as he grabbed at her fingers for stability. He was tense, breathing fast—even though he didn't need to—, fingers digging into her skin in a way that was quickly becoming uncomfortable.

“John- it's okay. You're safe, I've got you.” They murmured, their free hand hovering behind him but not touching—they wanted to provide comfort, but they'd seen him like this before, and knew touch could just end up setting him off worse.

Still, she didn't want to just leave him like this. She bit her lip in thought, humming under her breath before carefully pulling him close and cradling him against her chest—hissing under her breath as she accidentally jostled her leg in the process. He squirmed for a moment, letting out a sharp hiss before stilling. The tension slowly drained from his body as her heart beat slow and steady in her chest.

“Phoenix?” His voice was somewhat shaky when he spoke up, and they peered down at him, shifting their hands to allow him to sit back in their cupped palms.

“I'm sorry—didn't mean to startle you.” They murmured, gently rubbing his shoulder with their thumb. He didn't look at them, keeping his gaze turned down at his own hands resting in his lap.

“I know.” She could only just feel him resting a hand against her thumb, leaning into the touch for the briefest of moments before he looked up at her—squinting a bit in the brightening light from outside. Still not direct, thankfully, but still likely uncomfortable to his eyes. “... We should get on with it. Wasting time.”

“Okay.” They were still worried about him, but he had a point. The later in the day it got, the more likely it was some stray reflection could find its way in. “... Take your shoes off though. S’gross.”

That made him snort, shooting her a somewhat incredulous grin. “That's the thing that bothers you? Really?”

Joking about it eased the tension. Returning his grin with her own, she lifted him up a few inches closer to her face, shifting him into one palm as she did so. “Yeah. Got no idea where those things have been.”

Juniper scoffed, but put his shoes in their free hand when they held it close. The tiny footwear was tucked into the pocket of their shirt, and another moment of silence fell.

“How do you want to do this?” She murmured. It was only fair to let him decide—she knew he hated being at the mercy of others, for entirely understandable reasons. What pieces he'd shared of his past, it rarely ended well.

“Ah, excellent question.” His voice was tense, even as he leaned into their touch. “Just… get it over with, I suppose.”

“Alright.” Lifting him to their face, they paused to brush a light kiss to the top of his head, causing him to flinch slightly before relaxing. After giving him a moment to calm down again, they opened their mouth wide and carefully slipped him inside.

The tiny vampire shuddered, letting out a little sound that she only barely heard as she pulled her hand back. She didn't close her mouth quite yet, instead giving him time to adjust and stop shaking before moving again. After a few moments he let out a breath, untensing and patting her tongue awkwardly, and she slowly closed her jaws—noting with mild curiosity that he seemed to relax a bit more once he was sealed in darkness.

He was cool in their mouth, and oddly refreshing—somewhat like mint. Not what they would have expected, but better than some of the alternatives that had come to mind. With a gentle hum they started to lap at him, trying not to spook him again but also knowing he was big enough it would be uncomfortable if not impossible to swallow him without it. He squirmed a bit, but it seemed more from surprise than distress, as he shortly settled down and allowed them to nudge him around their mouth freely.

After a few moments she paused—he'd told her to get it over with, but now she couldn't help but balk at the thought, her heart speeding up slightly from nerves. Even at this size, he could still do a lot of damage to her if he lashed out—vampires were dangerous, even if it had been a long time since he'd wanted to harm her. But keeping him in her mouth for hours until sunset wasn't much of a solution either—and he was trusting her not to hurt him, so she would return it.

Tilting their head back, they swallowed firmly, wincing a bit as he flailed for the briefest of moments before going still again—that didn't feel particularly pleasant. They could feel him slipping down their throat, a sensation almost akin to swallowing a too-large bite of food, though they supposed it wasn't particularly inaccurate. Not exactly unpleasant, but certainly odd.

He was still noticeably cooler than her body, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would eventually warm up or remain a chilly weight inside her for the entire time.

A gasp escaped her as he finally slid into her stomach, seeming much heavier than he had been in her hands. It was oddly satisfying in a way she didn't want to think about too closely, instead resting a hand over her middle and focusing on him. It took a little bit before he finally moved, which sent a shiver down her spine—not uncomfortable or nauseating like she would have expected, but… almost nice, though a little overwhelming.

“You okay?” They asked, unsure if he would be able to hear them, or they him. He went still for a moment before pressing a hand against her own.

“It's very slimy.” His voice was quiet and they had to focus, but they could hear him. A little huff escaped them at his response, rolling their eyes slightly.

“Better than you burning to a crisp. I'll let you out as soon as it's sundown, alright?” A yawn tried to interrupt her speech, the long, exhausting night starting to catch up with her. It would be several hours until then, she could doze a bit—though she did pull her knife back out of her bag to keep in her hand, just in case.

“Alright. You sound like you could use some rest too, little hunter.” He paused, before chuckling. “... That doesn't quite work right now, does it.”

She hummed, leaning back against the wall and allowing her eyes to drift closed to the sound of wind through the leaves and birds chirping outside the cave. “Nope.”

“Don't do anything stupid while I can't get you out of it. Which means staying put unless you absolutely have to move.” They could feel him poking them to make his point, and shifted in place slightly at the odd feeling.

“I know, I know.”

“Good. … Good night, Phoenix.” The feeling of him leaning back and relaxing sent a rush of warmth and a sudden protective feeling through them. They hummed again, leaving their hand where it rested over their middle—what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And they were ready to get whatever snatches of sleep they could.

[onboardsorasora]

Does Tennis star Daniel break his wrist also? How's he getting on? Is Max devoted boyfriend we all know him to be? Love the au sm!💖

OMG Pixie! Thank you for this ask! I'm so happy you enjoy it! 💗💗💗 Originally I had no intention of Danny getting injured, there was like a vague outline of what I wanted to happen for the US Open. Then I read this lovely ask and my brain pressed delete and then I furiously wrote this. It is not edited lmao, I hope it makes sense. I'll put it under the cut, we got a little angsty too.

Part 1 | Part 16 | Part 18

Part 17

It was in the second round of the US Open when it happened. In Arthur Ashe Stadium at prime time. A freak accident they called it. 

It was the second set, Daniel was returning a volley and he…tripped. The ball boys had accounted for all the stray balls except one that had fallen from one of their hands. They couldn’t stop play in time and instead of allowing himself to fall into the teen trying to retrieve the ball; Daniel pivoted with the grace of a UFC fighter and landed on his side. Heavily.

He had thrown his arm out reflexively to catch himself but his momentum was too much and long story short he was sat in the hospital in a cast. 

“At least it’s a clean break.” Blake had said, trying to find any silver lining. Daniel stared morosely ahead as the news (which he requested be kept on) kept replaying the moment of the fall and him immediately clutching his arm to his chest in pain. They were praising his quick thinking and agility for not injuring the poor boy with a montage of him being led from centre court to a standing ovation overlayed.

His phone was going off uncontrollably, but he was ignoring it. Max had called Blake immediately after it happened; he saw it live watching from Italy. They’d had no information for him then, and Daniel wasn’t sure if Blake had been keeping him updated. He hoped he was.

Daniel stared ahead for an indeterminate amount of time. He was in shock. How could it have gone so so badly in so little time. He was the fucking world number one; something he’d dreamt about for ages. He was on his way to win the final grand slam of the season and now…

The cast felt heavy against his chest where it rested. He couldn’t breathe under the metaphorical weight of it. 

“I want Max.” Daniel croaked out, clearing his throat. He hadn’t spoken since checking into the hospital, letting Blake and Micheal do all the work. 

“He’s sending his plane to take us to Spain. Red Bull are getting us a consultation with a Dr Mir to— apparently he’s the best at this sort of injury.” Blake offered instead, still texting feverishly.

“At least this was the final of the year. I mean outside of the invitational…” Michael trailed off.

“Where’s my phone? I— Max.” Daniel motioned with his good hand jerkily, hissing when he jostled his cast. Blake caved and handed him the device which he took to immediately facetime his boyfriend. 

Max answered before the first ring even finished. His worried eyes filled the screen and Daniel offered a small smile in spite of himself.

“Hey.” Daniel whispered, because he all of a sudden felt overwhelmed. 

“Danny! How— how are you feeling?” Max seemed like he just jolted himself into stillness. Maybe he had been pacing.

“Can I see you?” Daniel bypassed answering, because he wasn’t feeling up to trying to put words to the tumult inside him. It wasn’t all good all ways, not by a long shot. 

Max hesitated, and Daniel felt bad immediately. It was a stupid question, Max had just arrived in Milan, this was a full race weekend. There would be no opportunity.

“Sorry— fuck. That was a dumb question.” Daniel mumbled. 

“Vicky says that Dr Mir is like on call for Moto GP guys— so he knows what he’s doing. Hopefully you can get surgery this week a–and  then I can meet you in Monaco after the race, maybe? You can stay at my place— I have a week before singapore— I can help take care of you?” He said it all in a rush, as if thinking if he gave Daniel a moment to consider or answer he’d have declined. 

This was new for them, they were still new. They didn’t really know how the other were when they were losing or hurt. 

“Ok– yeah.” Daniel replied because, of course. He wanted to see Max, needed to be held by his boyfriend right now. And if everyone trusted this Dr Mir, then he would too. He could probably ask Fabio about him, or something. 

Everything was a rush and a blur after that. Daniel slept most of the flight to Barcelona, he was in surgery within two days and on some amazing painkillers. He didn’t much remember getting to Moncao or arriving at Max’s but he’d woken out of sleep enough with a cat randomly on or by him that he knew he was there.

Max arrived Sunday night, his hair still smelled like champaign. It was the best smell Daniel smelt when Max leaned over to kiss him while he was propped up on the couch. It was clear that Blake gave him all the information over the phone because he didn’t ask anything, just made himself comfortable on Daniel’s good side and cuddled him closer, tracing the lines of the cast lightly with his finger. Outlining the rose he knew to be there.

Daniel leaned into him easily. It was a shit situation, but Max was here.

[13as07]

Uchiha’s Love #1

(Sakura Haruno)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to DoMyzu]

Requested by: Myself

Keys:

None

Word Count: 4,554

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Non-romantic one-shot; more friendly one-shot vibes

Heavily Itachi themed so my bad

——————————————————————

      The knock at the door startles me awake, my adrenaline rushing as I shoot up in bed. On instinct, my hand reaches across the bed in hopes of coming in contact with Itachi. It doesn't, but that's not much of a surprise. He comes and goes as he pleases. Well, as the Akatsuki pleases; more specifically, Pain.

     Another knock at the door sounds through the house, echoes of it raking through my body. I have decided I hate Itachi today. Most days I hate him, but despite the burning grudge laid deep, when he's around I can't help but feel like a love-struck schoolgirl.

     Before everything, before the massacre, before all the death and destruction, before the hatred Sasuke and I had formed, I couldn't feel anything except love and pride for the Uchiha Chief's oldest son. Our lives - my life was so great before all of it.

     Once the third knock comes I move out of my bed. My feet are silent but my thoughts aren't. About ten different trains of thought are running through my head, all ending at the same conclusion; Itachi pissed someone off again.

     My eyes drop against the door frame, in search of my katana. It's propped up against the frame as I expect. It's a beautiful sword, but unlike the blade, it's double-sided. An unchanging apology from Itachi; one of many. 'Sorry, I almost got you killed. Here's a pretty sword for when it happens again.'

     I let my finger ghost over the colorful laced handle of it as I creek the door open. "Hello," I whisper out, scanning the darkness for whatever threat awaits me.

     "Hi," comes the small response. My head snaps down, following the voice. Standing on my doorstep is a... child. A short, twig-thin child.

     I scan the outside again, making sure to take my time looking over the empty dirt road and the edge of the forest. After Itachi went rouge, he asked - demanded - me to move further out of the village.

After a couple of weeks filled with lectures about my safety, about him having easier access and a lot of negative side effects from the village, I finally caved. The final nail in the coffin was getting attacked by some of my fellow villagers for 'being an Uchiha sympathizer'.

     "Can I help you?" I ask, tone cold as I turn back to the girl standing in front of me. Her hair is in an uneven bob, the bubble gum pink color making up for the rough cut of it.

     The child's eyes are wide when she looks up at me, the green color of her irises pushed to the side from her wide pupils; a natural response from the cloudy sky hiding what little light the night gets. "You know... um..." She shifts, eyes scattering around as she thinks over her words.

     My hand tightens around the handle of my sword, the crisscross pattern of the material digging into my skin. "I know who?" I ask, doing another environment check. I will say that using a child as a distraction is a new low, even for the enemies of my rouge ninja.

     "You used to know Sasuke right?" The words hang in the air, sucking all the oxygen out of my lungs. That's new too. I've never been asked about Sasuke, and the times I've heard about him have been insults themed around him thrown into my face by the village. Well, besides Tachi's old anbu coworker. Occasionally Kakashi will give me updates on Sasuke, but he hasn't been around since before the Chunin exams.

     "I suppose you could say that," I answer, turning my attention back to the girl standing in front of me. That's a bit of an understatement. I've been present in his life from the second he was born, which is one of the only good things my situation with Itachi has brought me.

     Well, was present. The last thing the sole survivor of Itachi's mental break needs is a constant reminder of his brother. I'm sure he gets enough reminders from the image in the mirror.

     Her eyes seem to be even wider as she looks up at me. "I know him too," she tells me, eyes blinking at me as she waits for an answer.

     I don't know what answer she wants, let alone expects. "Congratulations." That's probably not the answer she wanted, or the tone she was expecting. Her face scrunches up before her head tilts down. My eyes catch on her headband, the deep imprint of the village stamped into it. "Child, it's late, I'm tired, and not in the mood. What do you want?"

     Her eyes pick up for a second before falling back to the ground. "Kakashi-sensei talks a lot about you," she mumbles, her attention on her sandals as she messes with the top layer of dust that covers the ground.

     Fucking Kakashi. Mr 'I want to fix it'. I am grateful that the shinobi treats me like an actual person instead of a broken, left-behind piece of the masochist. I'm also grateful that he keeps me in the loop about my lover's kid brother. 

     Not so grateful that he insists on sticking his nose in my business, or that he keeps pressuring me about everything. Move further into the village, reenlist as a shinobi, make a friend, and find a new boyfriend. I'm pretty sure the last part is more self-driven than it is the Sensei's guilt about Itachi eating at him.

     "And?" I push, puzzle pieces sliding into place. This must be Kakashi's little kunoichi who has fallen head over heels for Sasuke. May the Gods either make Sasuke better than his brother or save this girl from the life of being a Uchiha's heart and soul.

     It's not all bad. Itachi is very loving and kind to me. Aside from his brother, I'm his whole world. I know that, and he has ensured I never forget it. Despite that, every positive has its negative.

     I have boxes filled with letters from him. I also have boxes filled with medical supplies for the next time he shows up half-dead on my doorstep. The same hands that have touched my skin in love have been coated in the blood of the innocent. He's constantly worried I'm too isolated but is jealous of any person I come in contact with. The same voice that lulls me to sleep has told me the crimes committed by his hand. Itachi's love is as strong as his possession. Obsession is not a strong enough word to describe his admiration for me.

     Is that the kind of life this kunoichi is signing herself up for? Is she willing to place the golden chain of a Uchiha's love around her neck? A gold chain is still a chain nonetheless. Once you dip into the love of a sharingan user, there is no going back. You will be loved until you die, whether that be from nature, the hands of their enemies, or their hand if they can't take the grief of you leaving.

     I am lucky enough to know Itachi would never put his hands on me. Does Sasuke share the same twisted morals as his brother? Anyone can die if it furthers their goal, but not even the gods will rest if my loved ones are hurt; is that another reminder that Sasuke and Itachi were cut from the same cloth?

     "Well..." the starter shinobi starts, eyes still locked on the ground. "Sasuke has... he's left the village."

     Panic creeps up my chest at her words. If he's left the village, what is his squad mate doing at my door? Has he gone rogue? Or is he taking some space? Is he finally processing the grief of everything that has happened? I wouldn't put it past the councils to label him rouge without him breaking any laws of the land.

     "Why might he have done that?" I ask, doing a mental count of how long it's been since the last time I've seen Kakashi. Is that why he hasn't come around? It's been about two months; possibly three. Has Sasuke been gone that whole time? Does Itachi know? He has to know, he checks on his brother as much as he checks on me. Why wouldn't Itachi tell me Sasuke has abound the village?

"I don't know... something about power and revenge," the girl answers, lifting her head to look at me again. That doesn't help the tightening of my chest. Why must Sasuke follow his brother's path so closely? I swear one if not both of the Uchiha brothers are going to be my death.

"Well, that sucks kid," I answer, my tone a bit snippy.

My mind is preoccupied with worry. How mad would Pain be at me if I showed up unannounced? He doesn't seem to mind me coming around as long as I'm not much of a distraction for his 'top member'.

I've talked to the Akatsuki leader a lot; if anything he's the only person aside from Itachi I talk to constantly. I'm not sure if Pain's interest in me is personal like Kakashi's or more 'happy worker, good worker'. Either way, he has decided I'm off limits when it comes to his murder team members, which is a bit of an ego rub if I'm honest.

My mind is flipping back and forth between writing to Pain to request a visit or writing an angry letter to Itachi. As I'm closing the door I settle on writing Pain. This is a conversation that needs to happen face-to-face with Tachi.

"Wait!" The girl yells, her hands slamming on the door to stop me from closing it. That pulls me out of the gutter of my mind. I move the door back open, looking down at the child. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, face scrunched up again. "I just... I want to talk to you."

"Why would you want that?" I ask, letting my face soften a bit. The poor girl looks so distressed. What has Itachi's little brother done to her?

She stays silent, eyes jumping around again. Kakashi hasn't trained his genins on body language yet, which is very evident from the kunoichi constantly shifting her weight. The only way to make her nervousness more evident would be a red stamp mark on her forehead. "Sensei said you're the only person in the village who has dealt with someone like Sasuke."

"Someone like Sasuke?" I poke, trying to figure out what exactly Kakashi has told her about me; more specifically, about my entanglement with Itachi.

"Ya... um... you know, like a rouge ninja," she races out, hands flapping around like crazy. "Kakashi said a lot goes into loving a rouge ninja and a lot goes into loving a Uchiha. He keeps telling me a combination of them is the most stressful thing in the world and I should just give up on Sasuke and with him constantly talking about you I figured you could help me with my thoughts."

     The ramble brings a small, sad smile to my face. "Do you want my honest opinions or did you come here to justify your love for Sasuke?" I ask, even though I know it's a little cruel.

     "I don't know," she whispers back, eyes on the ground again.

     I let out a long sigh, the promise of going back to sleep sliding out with the noise. "Come inside child," I say, opening the door wider so Kakashi's not-so-smart genin can escape the chilly night. Well, perhaps she's a chunin now. I'm not too sure since I haven't had the chance to ask Kakashi about the results of the exams.

     The girl walks through the door, stopping in my entryway to take off her shoes. "Um... you can wear mine," I mumble sliding out of my house shoes. I don't get visitors - let alone invite them in, so there are only three pairs of house shoes in my home; Kakashi's, mine, and Itachi's. As the girl slides on my shoes, I slip into Itachi's slippers.

     I walk away from the door, once I'm sure it's locked anyway. Someone can break through it but they can't exactly do that silently. A small warning is better than no warning. "So... you know Itachi," the girl mumbles, her head on a spiral as she looks around my home.

     My home is quite decorated; pictures of the past, a few photos from recent years, and different artworks from all The Great Nations fill the wall space.

Itachi might be a bad person but he is a good provider. I can't remember the last time I wanted... well, anything. Everything I need or want is gifted to me by him or he provides the means for me to get it. The thought upsets me; another reminder of how chained to Itachi I am. Maybe I should consider reenlisting as a shinobi.

"So," I start, flopping down on the couch tucked against the wall. "What is it that you want to know, kid?"

"Sakura," the girl answers, her eyes wandering around the small living room. Even though the space is small, I have it packed quite full. Living alone leaves me a lot of free time, so the room has turned into a hobby dump center. Baskets of yarn, random piles of books, and art supplies are thrown all over the place.

"Well, Sakura, what is it that you want to know?"

I watch as she walks up to my easel. It's a half-done oil pastel piece of Itachi and Kakashi. I settled on Itachi's color scheme being red but I've been struggling with what color to do Kakashi.

"Is this Sensei?" The girl asks, unclipping my reference photo.

"Ya, it is," I answer, closing my eyes. I can imagine every detail of the picture without having to see it. It's an older photo, taken a couple of days before the massacre. Kakashi and Itachi are sparring, swords pressed together as they come to a standstill in their fake battle. The standstill only lasted a second or two, but there's no surprise there.

"I didn't know Kakashi-Sensei had a tattoo," the little one says, coming over to sit on the couch next to me.

"Ya, he does. So does Itachi and me."

"You have a tattoo too?" Sakura asks, eyes turning away from the photo to me. I nod my head, yes, turning my attention away from her. I'm starting to not like the fact that I invited her into my home.

     "Can I see it?" She asks as she scoots closer to me. I let out a soft sigh before shifting around so my right shoulder is facing the girl. I tug my sleeve up, showing off the anbu spiral. "So, you guys all just decided to get matching tattoos or something?"

"Or something," I answer, standing up and making the short walk to the kitchen. Hopefully, a cup of coffee will help calm me. Or at the very least, help me wake up better.

     "What does that mean?"

     "Ask your Sensei," I murmur, keeping my hands busy with the preparation of my drink. "What exactly do you want me to talk to you about?"

     Silence falls in between us, Sakura letting her eyes wander around my makeshift craft room again. "I don't know... just... what's it like?"

     I let my attention fall to the dripping of the coffee being made. "What's what like?"

     More silence fills the space but I don't mind. Situations like this are difficult to talk about, both for me and for her.

     A little bit of warmth fills my chest when I glance at the girl sitting on my couch. She's about the age I was when Itachi... well, became a murder. It's weird to think about, me being in her shoes just five years ago. At least she'll have more of a support system, and someone to relate to. At least I can offer her the comfort of understanding I didn't have when Itachi went rogue.

     "What were Itachi and you like before he... left," her words come out slow like she's worried I'll lose my composer from her questions. That's not surprising, rumors about me spread even now because of my anbu days, but mostly because of the Uchiha. I can only imagine the rumors circulating now that Sasuke has left the village.

     I think about it for a moment, trying to replay the long-ago years. "Um... we were all always busy. Coming and going all the time from missions. Itachi was busier than everyone else so he was always so stressed out. He never had time for anyone, including himself. If the Hokage wasn't keeping him busy, his clan was. Most days were filled with apologies for not having time for me, but..." I tilt my head, shifting my focus back to the coffee maker.

     "But?"

     "But when things were good, they were so great. He's always been a romantic. Not like loud, elaborate romantic. More quite romantic," My heart swells with love for the dumb, murderous man I can't get over. My ring clinks against my coffee mug as I pull it out of the cabinet.

     "What's the difference between a loud and quite romantic?" The girl asks, scooting off the couch and joining me in the kitchen.

     I see her eye catch my ring as it continues to clink against different things I grab. It's Itachi's mother's wedding band. It was a gift he gave me; more like a sign of ownership. Tachi isn't too happy with Kakashi snuggling up to me.

     "I don't know how to explain it. A loud romantic is like someone who always has to hang on you when you're out and about. Someone that makes their love take up as much room as possible, I guess."

     The girl nods along as she listens to my words, eyes glossed over in confusion. Maybe I won't be able to show her as much comfort as I thought.

     "Quiet romantic is... things like your partner making you breakfast even though they can't stay to eat with you. Someone who takes care of things for you without you having to ask and half the time not notice. I don't know, something like that."

     The room is quiet again as I sip on my drink. I watch Sakura, her mind preoccupied. Perhaps she's rolling through memories of her Uchiha, trying to find the times of quiet love. I know it took me a while to figure it out; to put together Itachi's love for me wasn't any less because he chooses to show love in smaller, less noticeable ways.

     Thoughts of the ring in my hand fill my head as I focus on it. Was it a proposal? Or just his jealousy getting the better of him? How would that even work? Us being married?

     "How alike do you think Sasuke is to his brother?" My eyes jump up to meet the girl's green ones. The question hangs in the air for a while as I think it over.

     "Well, I don't know Sasuke as well as I did when he was younger. I think he's more like his brother than he likes, but less like him than he notices." The answer isn't really an answer, but I still think it fits. Itachi is driven by his undying love for his brother and me. Sasuke is driven by his hatred. Love and hate aren't as different as people think.

     "What's it like? Being in love with a Uchiha? Or, well, having a Uchiha love you back?" I notice the sadness trickle into her eyes but I leave it be. I know how hard it is to tell whether anyone - let alone a Uchiha - loves you back.

"Itachi is very busy with..." I stop myself, taking a second to glance around the room before setting back on Sakura. "Being rogue. No one... a ninja doesn't go rouge to do good things. I have to live with the fact that I know some of the things he's done, and the fact that he's done worse than he'll fess up too. It's scary but... it's also comforting."

"Comforting?" She asks, face scrunched up again. "How could it be comforting knowing you're with someone who has murdered people? A lot of people."

I let out another sigh, letting my eyes wonder again. "I spent a long time wondering why I couldn't get over him. Wondering why I liked a... murder more than any of the shibobis in the village. The answer I think I've settled on is when Itachi falls to his knees at my feet, when he holds my legs in desperation for my love, for any part of me I'm willing to give him, it causes... it makes me feel important, valued."

My eyes settle on Sakura again, her own eyes wide as she looks at me. "Uchiha's are very... ego-driven, but their love is so much stronger than their egos. When a Uchiha is willing to give you that love... it's almost set in stone that they would turn the world upside down for you."

I fall silent, giving her time to let my words sink in. "You don't think anyone else would do that for you?"

"No," I answer quickly, getting a bit frustrated that I can't word the feelings Itachi pours into me in a way that Sakura will understand. "A shinobi's purpose is to serve their village. A 'good' shinobi would sacrifice their partner for the village. Itachi would sacrifice everything in this world before he let anything happen to me."

My eyes study her face, trying to read her expressions. Her face is scrunched up for a while before it softens again; a light bulb turning on behind her eyes. Maybe this girl does understand what I'm saying, even just a little bit.

"Knowing someone would go to war if you're harmed is a better promise than knowing your partner will put their job above you. Don't get me wrong, I know how terrible of a person Itachi seems to be; how terrible he can be. People see him as a murderer, a selfish Uchiha, someone who excels at manipulation. But, I know where I lie on his priority list, I know anything I want will happen if I ask, I know at the end of the day his actions are to give me a better life, even if I don't understand."

Silence envelopes us again, me watching Sakura as she thinks over my words. "It doesn't seem as bad as Sensei made it sound," her voice is small as she continues to think.

"It probably is as bad as Kakashi made it seem. Nothing positive comes without a negative. I might be protected from everything in the world but it becomes isolating." I blink my eyes rapidly, pushing down my loneliness to stay matter-of-fact. "I don't know if it'll be the same with Sasuke, but carrying the weight of what Itachi could and would do if he sees someone as a threat, if he misreads a situation, or gets too jealous... it's scary knowing what he can do."

My hands are shaky as I lift my mug again. Thoughts swirl in my head as I sip on my drink. Am I putting Sakura in danger with this conversation? Will Itachi see her as a threat? Or will he leave it be? Does he know he's isolating me? Or is he doing it on accident?

"Uchiha-san?" Sakura calls, pulling me out of my thoughts as a weird feeling crawls up my stomach. I don't know if I like being called that.

"Yes, child?"

She stays quiet, staring at me for a while as she works out her next question. "Kakashi-Sensei said something like 'you're in an open cage with broken wings' or something. What does that mean?"

I smile softly at her, Kakashi's voice ringing in my head with the same quote he's said since the death of Sasuke's clan. "Your Sensei says that I 'live my life with the door of my cage open, but with the wound of clipped wings'."

"Yes! That's what he said!" The girl cheers a bit before the excitement is replaced with sadness again.

"It means I live in fake freedom. I'm free to do what I want when I want because of the safety net my Itachi offers me. However, I still live with the terrible things he's done. With the knowledge of the things he has and is willing to do."

Sakura's face sinks with my words. A bit of my grief rubbing off on her. "Is it worth it?" The question is soft and asked to her feet instead of me.

"I think it is. I... he's not around a lot. He's always busy but I know I'm always on my mind. I know that I'm loved." I stop again, resetting my head for a second before settling on my mini-me.

"Loving someone like Itachi - someone like Sasuke, means you give a lot. You give your time with them, your own time, always being on call because you don't know the next time you'll see them if there will be a next time. You give a lot of your emotions. Worrying about them and what they're doing, to who they're doing stuff to. Grievance to the people they hurt, to the life you used to have, to the person you used to love, the person you used to be."

I snap my eyes closed, tilting my head up at the bittersweet feeling forming with my next sentence. "You give love, so much love, unconditionally. You carry a million feelings wrapped up in that single feeling of love. Being that safe space for them, sharing their burdens, their mistakes."

I tilt my head back down, locking eyes with the younger girl again. "It's a lot of mental burden, and not everyone can carry that. If Sasuke loves you, he won't love you any else because you struggle with your feelings day to day. Some days I love Itachi more than life, some days I hate him, and some days I hate myself. No matter what I feel, Itachi still loves me, still knows it's his fault for my conflicting emotions, and he's patient with me."

Once again I watch, waiting for the girl's reaction. Her face is scrunched up again and I'm sure her mind is running a mile a minute. "Do you... do you think Sasuke will be like his brother?"

"I know Sasuke is not Itachi. I don't know what he'll be like, I don't know where you lay on his line of importance, I don't know anything about what he'll be like. What I do know is what might happen. What you might have to deal with. I can't predict the future but I can help you be prepared for it."

It takes a second but Sakura's face softens again, a sad smile on her lips as she looks at me. "Uchiha-San?" I hum a yes, preparing for whatever she's about to say. "I'm glad I have you to help me through this."

"I'm glad I can help you through this as well, child."

——————————————————————

[hecatemoon87]

Warnings ⚠️ smut

MINORS DNI

Master list for rest of story

Part V

Three weeks. That's a long time to wait when you're craving something. And three weeks is what Bob needed to wait in order to be formally released by the church. He would then return to being a layman, no longer the junior priest he had been for the past few years.

Bob decided he'd be professional and maintain his vows as he finalized his time with the church. But no such rules applied to Jocelyn. She would become his temptress in the following weeks. Would Bob prevail, or would he cave to his primal desire for the flesh?

His best chance at succeeding was to avoid her. But somehow that felt cruel and so he decided to visit her on occasion, wearing his white collar, hoping it would remind her of his chastity. It did not.

One afternoon, he decided to pop in to see how she was doing. Jocelyn was a freelance writer, prone to late nights and waking up much later in the day than most.

He made sure to stop by after 1 p.m. A more suitable hour, as she was cantankerous in the early morning. However, it still seemed in vain. Once he saw her face, he could tell she was in a bad mood.

Upon her pretty face, she wore a scowl. She said nothing, but let him inside.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He was hold a to-go cup of her favorite coffee and she snatched it out of his hand.

"My period that's what's wrong. I'm cramping," she said bitterly and walked into her living room, curling up on the couch.

Bob followed her and sat down next to her. "Sorry. Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"Yeah, but you won't do it," she said, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. She gave him a long look, a look he knew so well. A look that made him very aroused.

At that moment, he realized he'd just falling into a trap.

Jocelyn placed the coffee on a table in front of the couch and snuggled into his side. She stroked his chest, gazing up at him with her pretty doe eyes. "Since you're a priest, you don't have to fuck me, just finger me until I cum. It helps the pain," she purred.

"You know that's not how it works..." Bob said, his brain telling him to get up off the couch, but his dick was telling him otherwise.

"I just to need to orgasm, it helps, honest. You can at least do that," she said, snuggling further into him.

"Jocelyn, we've talked about this..." he whined, feeling himself grow.

"Shhh, all you have to do is finger me," she said, slyly moving his hand down her shorts and into her panties. He didn't resist and allowed her to guide his hand so that his fingertips rested over her soft, warm lips.

Bob released a throaty groan and then Jocelyn kissed him. He returned her kiss. It was slow and hesitant before Jocelyn shoved her tongue into his hungry mouth. He moaned and pushed his fingers through her wet folds, inserting a finger into her canal.

Jocelyn whimpered into his mouth as he fingered her pussy, the pleasant girth of his finger opening her walls. She moved her hand to rest on his crotch, kneading his cloth covered erection.

He found her clit and petted her into submission, still burying his tongue deep into her mouth. She arched her back and squeezed his cock, turning her face away to moan.

Bob watched as she came, her honey bursting forth over his fingers. Her brow knitted and her plump, red lips parted as she climaxed. He was infatuated, taking deep pleasure over just watching her be so vulnerable and sexy.

Once she came down, Bob removed his hand and went to wash the blood of it. As he washed his hand, his erection lessened, but not entirely. He glanced up in the mirror and spotted his white collar. He felt a pang of guilt.

But as he came back out he saw that Jocelyn was looking much happier than before. She was glowing with beauty and seeing that washed some of the guilt away, but not all.

"I have to go," Bob said, bending down and kissing her forehead. "I shouldn't have done that, you know?"

"Where's the fun if there isn't a little shame, my sexy priest? Next time, you'll have to make me pray on my knees," she said, winking at him.

He sighed, but not unhappily. He, after all, was leaving the priesthood to be with her. She was his joy, his purpose. And he knew her personality all too well. This was within her character to challenge him.

"I'll see you later. Try not to get into anymore trouble," Bob said, pointing a finger at her. She have him an air kiss and then he was out the door.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter One (Part 4)

In the last days of August, the Debs finally catches up to me. I spent the whole year trying very hard not to think about it, because I knew deep down that in the end I’d be going on my own, despite my most private fantasies that maybe, by some miracle, I’d eventually find somebody to ask. But of course, I never do, and by the time the date rolls around I’m left floundering. No dress, no date, no plan of what I’m going to do at all for the day that some girls spend a whole year getting ready for. 

The week before it, Claire gets frustrated with me and makes me take the dress she wore to Shane’s debs. “Take the shoes and bag too” She snaps. “And I’m going to do your hair and makeup.” She tosses everything at me in the midst of a tantrum, but she’s inadvertently being helpful. The only other alternative at this point would have been showing up in old ballet pumps and the dress I wore to my Grandad’s funeral. 

After that she forces me to ask Shane’s friend from the football team to go with me, insisting that it’s tragic if I turn up on my own. His name is Dave FitzGerald, but everyone calls him Bootsy because he got his name engraved on these metal plates on the laces of his football boots like he’s Ronaldo or something. Bootsy’s got small, pointed little features not unlike a rat, and this awful, gasping laugh that fills me with hatred, a regular occurrence because he thinks everything is funny. In desperation I ask if I can just call him Dave, but everyone insists that no, he’s Bootsy. I’m taking Bootsy to the Debs. 

The four of us and all of our parents gather at Claire’s house to take photos, and they cluck over us and insist that we all look beautiful. The boys show up in dinky grey suits with skinny ties, and Claire wears a pink gown with a wide tulle skirt and beading across the front, her blonde hair cascading down her back in loose curls. She looks like Serena van der Woodsen. My mam makes Bootsy put on and take off my corsage four times so that she can photograph him doing it from every possible angle, but each time he comes near me my nostrils and throat are assaulted by his Paco Rabanne One Million cologne. I have to try really hard not to cough and come across as rude, so I end up holding my breath. He must have bathed in it. 

“You look well.” Shane says to me with some awkwardness as we pose for another group picture by the stairs, because he’s trying out this new thing where he’s nice to me. Ever since Claire caved and told him about what happened last summer he’s abandoned the nasty jokes, and instead always looks at me with this pained expression on his face like he’s worried I’m going to start crying at any moment, which is somehow worse than the teasing.

“Thank you.” I say to him, “Probably because this is your girlfriend’s outfit.”

“You wear it way better than me, chicken.” Claire lies, as she throws her arms around me and grins for her dad’s camera. “Can we get a girly one with just us? I want something to hang up in our college apartment.” I put on my best smile for the photo. And then we take another, and another, and we keep going until the flash has blinded me and I can see nothing but white splotches dancing in my eyes.

“Can you let the gentleman hold your hands there, please if you don’t mind.” It’s an hour later and the official Debs photographer is trying his best to make me pose with Bootsy, but every time he tries to touch me I flinch. I keep fixating on the fact that he’ll leave fingerprints behind on me, but the photographer won’t give up. “Just for one second, darling, let me have one photo of ye for the papers.”

“Come on.” Bootsy insists. “Just take my bloody hands for the picture, sure everyone else is waiting behind us.”

I reluctantly slip my hands into his, and they’re spongy and warm. I smile for the camera, feeling it’s going to come out looking closer to a pained grimace, but nobody cares anymore. They all just want me to move out of the way. 

“That wasn’t that bad, was it?” Bootsy says to me, switching to a very kind voice, which is when I realise that he thinks I’m actually just very shy instead of someone who loathes him. When we sit down for the meal across from Claire and Shane, he thinks it’s gas that I refuse the soup course. “That’s my date there.” He announces to the table. “Sure she won’t even have the soup!” For some reason he believes this is comedy gold and starts doing his gasp-laugh. I grab handfuls of my dress and squeeze it in my lap, imagining it’s his neck. 

The meal is dry, an anaemic fillet of chicken wrapped in brittle strips of bacon with big floury potatoes on the side, and I choke it down with two glasses of the free wine. I’m not someone who enjoys this kind of food when it’s supposedly done well either, so the experience is close to excruciating. I’m thankful for the free sambuca shot that follows dessert, even though the taste always reminds me of getting felt up by the man with pupils for eyes in the rave tent last year. 

When I go into the bathroom I run into Kelly at the sinks. I utter a very quiet “hello.” because it feels rude not to, but she doesn’t care about social cues. She ignores me and makes a point of getting water droplets on my dress when she shakes her hands dry, so I use that as an excuse to hide in the stall until it dries. 

I sit on the toilet and take out my phone, and because it’s now an automatic response, I open Facebook, and then I navigate to Jude’s page, which is easy because he lives at the top of my search history. He hasn’t posted anything new in months, but it doesn’t even matter because all the old stuff is still keeping my dopamine receptors firing, and I could live off these crumbs forever. I look at my favourite photos of him for the thousandth time, like the one where he’s holding this enormous grey cat that he clearly just picked up off the street and laughing, I like to imagine it’s at the sheer size of the cat, and his eyes are all wrinkled up, and his arms looks nice from that angle. Then I read through all the “Thanks man!”s he wrote under the happy birthday messages just in case I missed one last time and didn’t get to imagine the way that he would have said that in real life. And inevitably I end up on Astrid’s page, checking to see if she took any new photos, even ones where he’s in the background somewhere, and when I don’t find any I feel sad and a little bit pathetic. I’m perched in a toilet cubicle on the day of my Debs thinking over and over about the things we had, what we didn’t have, and how my life would be now if things had been different.

“Evie, are you in here?” Claire starts knocking on the door, and I know my time is up. 

“Yes.” I bleat.

“Well you missed the group photo.”

“Oh no.”

She sighs. “Well you need to come out and dance at least. The DJ is here.”

“I have to dance?”

“Yeah, hurry up.”

I unlock the door and she looks at my phone in my hand with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going to delete your Facebook account.”

“I wasn’t on facebook.”

She doesn’t even bother to respond, and takes my arm to drag me out of the bathroom. “I get that you’re heartbroken, and I support you.” She says as she brings me through the lounge and towards the ballroom. “But you can’t keep on doing this to yourself. Eventually you’re going to have to say ‘okay, well, it’s been a year now, maybe it’s time for me to like…’”

“To move on?” 

She sighs. “Yeah.” We stop outside the doors and she takes my face in her hands. “You’re gorgeous and you’re only going to be eighteen once. You can’t spend so much precious time wishing that your life was different.”

“It’s so hard.” I whimper. “I don’t want to be like this either, but no matter what I do I can’t stop thinking about it, and I can’t get over it. Nobody said it would take so long. I know it’s stupid. I feel so stupid. If he heard about what I’m like now, I’d be so embarrassed.”

“The first time is the hardest, but after this it’ll be fine. You’ll forget about him eventually and you won’t believe that you cried so much, because you’ll know what? He’s so not worth it. He’s just another stupid boy. Do you think he cried over you?”

“No, he didn’t.” I say miserably. 

“Yeah. And what did he do? He went and hooked up with Astrid the Dane, and now he’s out there living his life and just being nineteen, which is what you should be doing. Show him that you don’t need him, and that you never think about him anymore. Next month when we’re in college it’s going to be different. I don’t want to see you like this after tonight, because it just breaks my heart. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“No more tears?”

“No more tears.”

She hooks her pinky finger around mine and stares me down. “You better mean that.”

I laugh. “Yeah, I do. This is the end.” I think that I mean it, I have to mean it. I steady myself and hold my shoulders back, acting like I’m somebody else, a new and improved Evie, and these will be the last days, the final gasping moments of my crush, and life restarts after tonight. “I’m not going to talk about him or even think about him again.” I announce, and it’s such a horrendous lie that I’m surprised I’m not struck down by a thunderbolt, but Claire nods satisfactorily and pushes me towards the doors with a boot up the bum. 

“Now get in there, I want to dance to Ignition.”

Prev // Next