#once this question came into my head it wouldn't fuckin leave

[queenbol-of-baldurs-gate]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard Ending Theory

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ALSO PRETTY LONG.

So, as I was showering this morning I came to a sudden realisation through my DATV daydreaming.

It's pretty obvious going by the hidden ending slides that something or someone has been manipulating events through history that weren't the Evanuris. They sound evil, look evil, very mysterious and spooky.

And I think most people can connect the dots that we have already been warned about them in DAI and in Veilguard with the little message in the Minrathous printing house, about those strange chalk markings and about a "storm" approaching from across the northern sea, as well as infiltrators tracking the progress over the major protagonists over the last 20 years (and a hidden figure in the future?):

Plus Rook has seemingly been interacting with these hidden entities every time they upgrade the Lighthouse's core with the spinning rings, whispering to them all ominous like and foreboding.

So, this 'storm' has been manipulating and waiting and letting things percolate in Thedas for a very very long time, and it's only when Solas is sealed into the Fade, with all the other Evanuris dead, that they are finally ready to move.

And so it occured to me, just how long have these mysterious entities been waiting? Since the fall of the elven empire? Since the rise of the elven gods?

Or since the fall of the Titans?

But then I got really thinking and the biggest question that came to me as I was rinsing out my hair; what on earth convinced a spirit to take physical form, and become the first elf? The first evanuris?

Spirits, by Solas' own words, are driven by a purpose, by emotion, by what inspires them (do not get me started on who the spirits got the emotions they embodied from in the first place)- so what in the hell could've been so compelling that it drove a spirit, who are also famously very content on being spirits, to take lyrium from the ground and create a body like that? How did it know to do it? Why would it choose lyrium in particular, when this was a world that was filled to the brim with magic?

I think someone told them to do it.

So, my theory is that these mysterious entities, the Storm coming across the northern sea (where the qunari ran from), haven't just been manipulating recent events in Thedas. I think they have been orchestrating things from the very beginning. Before the first elf, when Titans roamed the continent, maybe even the planet, freely; from the rise of the spirits-turned-elves, their war, and their inevitable downfall of their empire. I think these things needed the Titans to fall, then they needed the elves they uplifted to fall as well. I think the creation of the Veil put a wedge in those plans, as well as the continued lives of the Evanuris that powered the Veil as well as Solas'. So they needed them to die too, as well as these pesky little humans that suddenly popped up and started taking up space. But the Veil was strong, and Solas had hid his resting place well, and the humans propogated like fuckin bunnies.

So you bide your time, and you nudge and pull at events to your liking, until the Evanuris die off one by one, and the Veil gets weaker and weaker, and the Blights kill off more and more of the mortals above and below the surface.

And then the protagonists show up. They all each kill a major, ancient demon. They all dig up and find ancient evils and secrets and artifacts. They each influence history in uncountable ways. One stops a world ending Blight in a year. One holds together a literally cursed city, built on top of a damn blood ritual sigil, for a decade. One seals a massive tear in the Fade, stopping a cataclysmic event. And one kills two gods and imprisons a third, holding back the end of the world for a third time.

So enough is enough. They'll just have to come over the sea, and handle it themselves.

[blingblong55]

Mistake -141

Based on a request:

I've got a request for you! I got lost in my thoughts and thought of a prompt so sorry if it's a bit jumbled lol So it's like a wrong place wrong time kind of thing where the reader is mistaken for an enemy, and taken to the base. Maybe interrogated a bit before the 141 are told they have the actaul enemy on they way to them and they're like 'then who tf is this....oh shit....'

GN!Reader, angst, civilian!reader, mentions of torture.

141, one of the best military groups the British military has. As always, they have a target to chase after, this time it's in a small town. Their informant let them know it would be a person dressed in a completely different attire than they were used to. You happened to be walking back from your boring job when you passed their location.

"Bravo 0-6, we have eyes on the target," Gaz said over the radio. "Roger that," Price responded, Within seconds you felt as if someone was chasing you. And having that you watched a crime documentary the night before, you quickly thought of a way out. You walked normally but stayed in well-lit areas. The men thought you were just trying to play along with your facade. "Don't let 'em get away," Soap said from his location, his snipe pointed at you. You grabbed your pocket knife and held it in your hand. You walked faster towards a more public road. "Quick, Ghost!" Price ordered. You heard footsteps getting closer and closer.

You ran away, not daring to look back once. You took many detours until you were close to a nearby church, Church service had started but before you could even reach it, Ghost tackled you. "Don't hurt me!" you told him, your hands held high. He took your knife away and pointed his gun at your head, "Why the hell were you running?" You tried to stay calm but two other men approached you, Gaz and Price with their own guns pointed at you. "Soap, you got visual?" Price asked over the radio. "Yes, Sir" was the response, a red dot on your chest. You panicked.

"No please, you are mistaken." your desperate voice pleaded. "That's what they all say." Price growls and Gaz and Ghost drag you back to their temporary base. The entire way there, you cried and begged to be let go. "You have the wrong person, please I'm innocent!" you cried. Soap aggressively cupped your face, "Yer shut the fuck up, ye hear me?"

At base, they threw you to a mattress in an empty room. Wrists tied to the other, ankles tied as well. Your teary face looking at them. Your body is littered with lacerations. Limbs are weak but they wouldn't stop hitting you. You cry, "Please...I beg of you...please stop this" You receive another punch to the abdomen. "Don't you understand we will keep this up, you fucking killer." Gaz held a knife to you. Over the radio, the Delta team came on. "Bravo six, this is Delta 0-5, how copy?"

"This is Bravo six," Price said, his eyes piercing yours. "We found 'em, and are on our way back to base." Ghost gave Price a questioning look. Both men stepped outside of the room, leaving the two sergeants with you. "What do you mean you have the person with you, Delta Five?"

"All features you told us to look for, this person has it and they have admitted to being the subject."

"Fuckin' 'ell." Ghost murmured and rushed inside. "Sergeants, step away." He commanded. "Ghost they are talking now."

"Step away from the civilian, Soap," he advises and approaches you with caution. He kneels in front of you and unties you, "Are you alright?" He asks you with a soft tone. You were too weak to move, all you could do was stare. Whimpers of pain filled the room once Price walked back in and took a look at the injuries they had caused. "C'mon, we have to rush them to the medics." Your vision blurred. In all his years of being a soldier, Price had a day he regretted the most. And that was today, hurting an innocent, treating them as if they were the scum of the Earth. What fucked him up the most? The fact you died on the bed of the medical tent. Your body is weak, blood on the floor and how you died innocent and young, a poor civilian taken hostage, begging to be let out and no one heard.

That day, Task Force 141 lost another piece of their sanity, another stitch with emotions and another shattered glass to the oath they took to protect civilians. Ghost added you to his book of names, the list of all those he lost to war, by his hands, or by the cruelty his job brought. Another soul that Gaz ripped away because of orders, ones he always followed without question. Soap, the one who had the most blood on his hands, now regretted not listening to his instincts.

[senseofnewness]

Just finished part 3 and can’t stop thinking about it. Honestly:

I truly don’t think reader can go soo long and not catch an ounce of feeling for Art. I think they both liked each just not nearly as much as they craved Patrick/Tashi. The whole [Art] not kissing her on the cheek and her noticing it and Art knowing that he’s with reader and still being head over heels for Tashi because she’s just something he cannot have. I’m not sure if I missed something, but in my head Art and Tashi had never gotten sexual because he’s ALWAYS went back to reader for his needs (plus Tashi did say it was nothing - and I would take her for a liar either.) Art is guilty of infidelity, mainly mental and reader is just fuckin’ psychotic. Art’s jealousy came out a bit more this chapter and I loved it. I loved seeing Patrick being open about his sexuality and basically admitting his crush on Art. They’re truly inseparable. I wish we could’ve seen more of Art and reader’s vulnerable side like in their argument where they both spat truths at each other. I had absolutely NO clue reader was walking around with battle scars on display for him to see. I completely understand her obsession with Patrick and him accidentally falling in love with her. It may be genuine on his end but it obviously isn’t on hers considering she has an un(healthy) obsession with him. If you ever plan on finishing this series, or if you ever wanted to just answer some questions - I have a few :)

- What does the future look like for Patrick and Art’s relationship considering Pat’s in love with Art and Art is oblivious (to everything/everyone it seems… but not really.)

- Will Patrick ever find out the reader is a freak or do we lock that in the chamber in live happily ever after?

- Once/If Patrick and reader do get together, will we get to hear Tashi and Art’s thoughts?

This is super long, sorry! Also, I read you saying reader was trying to convince herself that her and Patrick were much happier than Art/Tashi - can you elaborate or is that too much to speak on in honor of a potential part 3? 👀 The people wanna know…

wow that's a long message, almost as long as part 2

Oh I think she cares SO MUCH about Art especially the fact that he "doesn't" care (that's what she thinks), she cares.

Yes I can confirm it, Art and Tashi never cheated. They're the closest friends but nothing more. But they like each others but will never say it because Reader is there. Tashi thinks of Reader as a loving and adorable girlfriend and thinks it would be terrible to break her heart. Art, he thinks like Tashi thinks.

It was essential for me to keep Patrick queer and in love with Art because it would explain his attitude with Reader.

I didn't think Art was ready to talk back to Reader yet but who knows IF THERE IS A PART 3

Reader just didn't give a fuck anymore about hiding her relationship with Patrick to Art. Hell, she wanted him to see and leave her ass so she wouldn't have to break up with him herself. I don't know if you noticed but how easier it would have been for her to say "let's break up" WEEKS ago. She just couldn't because that would make her the bad girl of the story. She's obsessed with being the victim.

Patrick never had someone who is so attentive to him. (I imagine him to be a middle child) He couldn't help but fall in love with someone who took such a good care of him and believed in him. It is genuine on his hands but it is not healthy either. Patrick is more than once on the edge of verbal abuse. He has issues.

Okay, let's go with the questions.

What it looks like? I truly have no idea. I really want them to make up and be besties because they are so cute. Maybe once Art finally starts dating Tashi? Once they both get what they "want", they would be like "look, it's done now, let's just make up" but that would be too easy. I think the resentment would mainly be on Art's side because Patrick was sneaky and hiding stuff from him. While Patrick would always be welcoming Art with open arms. As for Patrick's feelings for him, I'm scared they would always be unreciprocated. To me, Art is way too comfortable living the hetero lifestyle.

Oh god, Patrick would find out Reader is a freak eventually but sometimes think it's endearing because she loves him so much. But I'm not sure he would find out EVERYTHING because now that she has Patrick, she has no reason to be as freaky. Maybe until she gets a new obsession but ........

In my mind, they do get together because it's too far gone anyway. As for Art's and Tashi's thoughts, we will only hear about those if they're willing to tell them to Reader's face. I expect Tashi to do so. As for Art, maybe in a desperate attempt when Reader decides to leave uni to be a full time tennis wife for a player who barely manages to feed himself.

As for my "potential part three", I didn't give it much thoughts. But one thing is sure, I want to get rid of the university setting. So I thought Reader being pregnant would be the best way to.

But we can simply do a time jump but I hardly imagine Reader having a career that is so not taking care of Patrick 24/7. And since she sucks at tennis, she wouldn't be a coach, so once again the idea that she's a stay at home mom came.

But she's not fulfilled, she got Patrick, she wanted him for years but now she's a shell of herself. She does not desire anything anymore. Plus, their relationship isn't the greatest. They have great sexual chemistry but communicating is complicated since they can't mention anything about the beginning of their relationship without Patrick hating himself. Maybe he also cheats on her while on tour because that's how he is. And she resents him because pregnancy ruined her body. But one thing motivates her when she hears that Art and Tashi got engaged : how she was RIGHT about them. And out of the goodness of her heart, Reader reaches out to Tashi and congratulate her because she's such a GROWN person and more mature and happier and fulfilled. Tashi just answers 'thanks' and oh she's pissed. And Reader is like "let's put everything in the past, look, i was your fiancé's girlfriend a lifetime ago, so long ago i almost forgot, now look how much better my life is without you two ahah". She's mentally deranged.

Thank you for your message ❤️

[spideygwennie]

🕸️🕷️ — 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 — @wovendeath

She slips back into Earth-616, turning back toward the portal opening, making sure this time, nothing followed her in. Although, it would make her life so much easier if something did follow her back into Earth 616, back where it came from. God, she wished it was that easy. Sadly, the portal opening grew smaller and smaller until it fizzled out, closing the gap between dimensions. Nothing slipped out, and stayed hidden in her world. Her eyes felt weary behind the mask.

Taking a deep exhale, Gwen turned back around and in the motion began slipping her backpack off her shoulders and dig. Grabbing onto a clear bag of burner phones, inspecting each phone before finding the one she needed. Thank god, battery's still good. Plenty to make a phone call. Jesus, what time was it here anyway? Would he even answer? What if he did? It's been a long time, maybe he doesn't have that number anymore. Before she could let anymore doubt linger, she flipped the phone open and scrolled down in contacts to find the one in question, and pressed call. The answering machine, undecided whether that was a good thing. Too late now, the tone dinged, do I want to leave a message?

Hey— it's Gwen. I- I know I shouldn't be calling this number unless it's an emergency but- I think… I think I need help. And not the kind I can get from Peter, he doesn't know him like you do, it's- it's bad. And I feel completely out of my element here.

Her voice felt wet, tired. That's not how she wanted to sound like. Like a child who can't clean up their mess (was it even hers to being with?). Gwen slipped the hood off her head, sighing heavily and grasping to keep her composure.

Your Jackal's back. He found out I exist and snuck into my universe and he— I can't find him and I just— I need him out. He's already made a mess atop of this other fuckin' pile of crap I have going on and I can't—

Don't rant. Just get your point across. She took another breath, fingers pressing into her eye sockets.

Look— No one knows him better than you. And once I find him, you and Peter can do whatever you want with him, he's not my problem after that just— I need him gone. And like, I get it okay? I get it. You probably have something else going on, and you don't need to get dragged into something from your past, much less it's not your concern, I get it if you don't want to or don't have the time, just— you were the first person I could think of.

Another sigh exhaled from her lips.

Anyway, I'll be around for a while, y-you can call me back on this number, or you can find me in the park- not sure what this one's called in your world but I'll be around if —

BEEEEP.

Fuck-! You rambled, after you said you wouldn't. Classic Stacy move. Always going over. She can berate herself later though, anxiously waiting on pins and needles seemed to be the next thing on the agenda in tormenting the defeated Ghost-Spider.

[pacifymebby]

born to die // chapter eight

I'd felt ever so lonely leaving that little cafe behind, limping out into the street on my own without so much as daring to look back over my shoulder for one final glimpse of the lad I was sure I loved.

I'd felt the tears in my eyes as I'd slipped into the back of my taxi, gave the driver my address and rested my head against the window. The cold glass against my cheek was soothing on my tired skin but I didn't feel any better for it. Didn't feel like answering the drivers attempts at small talk with anything other than a shrug.

"Feelin rough are ye lass?" He asked and when I nodded and gave him a weak yes he let out a sympathetic sigh. "You youngens these days don't know when to stop, always burnin the candle at both ends, ah well won't be long till you're home eh darlin.." he said trailing off. Doing me the small mercy of letting me shut my eyes and wallow in silence.

I didn't want to open my eyes, didn't want to acknowledge the world outside moving past the window. Didn't want to think about how, in half an hour's time I'd be struggling up the steps to my flat, hoping there was no one waiting for me when I arrived at my front door.

But of course there was.

Of course Van McCann had kept someone on the lookout for me, waiting to see when and where I came scurrying back from.

"Jesus fuckin... Meadow sweetheart whereve you been?"

Johnny had been sitting with his back leaning against my front door, half asleep, his flat cap hung low over his tired eyes. When he saw me however he'd jolted to life.

Rushed to meet me, to come to my aid when he saw the sorry way I was struggling to walk.

"What the fuck happened to you love?" He asked as he snaked his arm around my waist and tucked me into his side as he reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve my house keys.

"How have..." I started to ask only trailing off when I realised the stupidity of my question. Last night I had fled The Angel without a second thought for my belongings. I'd left my bag behind, my change of clothes. I'd left only with the dress and the necklace Johnny had given to me that evening. Everything else I had abandoned just as quickly as I'd abandoned my allegiance to the family who had taken me in when my father had been killed.

"You left em in the backroom along with everythin else doll," he said as he helped me inside, guided me to the kitchen where he watched me collapse into the tired settee, exhaustion and fear catching up to me all at once.

When he asked me again where I'd been, what had happened to me all I could do was look up at him with tears in my eyes. I wasn't ready to lie, hadn't prepared myself for the moment of so called truth. Didn't know what I was going to say. And it was that which saved me. My apparent confusion, the way I shook with fear, teary eyed and so desperately upset which settled Johnny's mind. Told him in no uncertain terms that I was innocent. That I'd been caught up in something horrible I didn't quite understand.

"I don't remember what happened... Someone shoved me over I think, I don't know, I was singin wasn't I, I had me eyes closed, I don't know John I didn't see anythin an when they grabbed me I panicked, I didn't know if maybe it was you or if it was one of them so I just panicked and I ran away..."

"Where did you go Meadow we were lookin for you all fucken night?" He asked crouching down in front of me, cupping my cheek in his hand, long fingers grazing my skin, reminding me of Sam's, of how gently he'd held me that morning when he'd promised he wouldn't let anything happen to me.

I felt myself begin to tremble at the thought that he was very far away from me then. That if Van turned up Sam couldn't save me. No one could.

"Eh divvnt start cryin sweetheart you're alreet now like, you're home ey..." he said quietly, "divvnt start cryin Med, what happened to that tough lassie who was all in a fettle cause I saved her life yesterday eh, Where'd she go?" He asked, teasing smile trying to draw a smile from me. But he couldn't. Couldn't cease the tears in my eyes because I was scared now. Really scared.

Scared to be at home. To feel so far away from Sam who I'd been living perfectly fine without until last night. Who I knew I couldn't live without anymore.

"Is Van... Angry with me?" I asked my bottom lip all a tremble as I tried to wipe my tears from my long lashes, "for runnin away like?"

"Worried darlin, not angry." He corrected me, made me wonder why he was lying to me. My heart beginning to tremble at the thought of what that lie could mean.

I'd heard the way Van had shouted last night, I'd heard those accusing tones bouncing off the walls of that alleyway. I'd felt the sharp smash of those bottles against the wall with every one he'd shattered.

So why was Johnny lying to me?

"Where did y'go love? And what did you do to your ankle eh, why are you limpin round like an old woman?"

He was trying to be gentle with me but I was growing more suspicious with every second.

"I stayed at a friend's," I whispered, mind racing and spiraling when he asked which and I couldn't think of anyone he didn't know. Couldn't think of a single house he wouldn't have checked.

"Y...you don't know him he lives away out of town..." I said shivering, holding my arms around myself in a weak attempt to control my shivering.

"Aye," he said quietly, nodding slowly as he took in my answer. I wondered if he could tell that I was lying. Felt my composure begin to waver once more. "An how did you manage to get yourself so far out of toon with that limp?" He let his index finger point and press into my knee gently, looking up at me with brown eyes which quietly demanded the truth. A truth I shook my head at and couldn't give him.

"I, I don't really know..." I said softly, trying to force a helpless smile as I pressed my palm to my cheek to try and dry my tears, "it didn't hurt so much last night..." I wasn't expecting the lie to settle with him, it shouldn't have settled with him, he should have seen right through me and yet he sighed and sat down beside me lifting my leg up into his lap so that he could roll my trousers up and inspect the damage.

"Aye sweetheart, adrenaline will do that, y'probably made it ten times worse walkin on it so long..."

"I got lost and then when I realised where I was..." I let go of another sob then, crying the tears I should have cried last night but had held back for Sam's sake.

Then again I hadn't felt all that scared with Sam's arms around me, hadn't really felt like crying when he was teasing me and feeding me chips across the table of that late night cafe.

As I leant back into the arm of the sofa and covered my eyes with my hands, sobs shaking my body I found myself desperately wishing to go back. It hadn't mattered that I'd been freezing, that I'd been soaked through and exhausted. That little cafe had felt like a safety haven, this quiet little place, warm heavenly light aglow from across the road. We'd been safe tucked away in that back booth. We'd been so content cuddled beneath the sheets in that damp bedroom.

Now, in my own damp council flat I felt ever so hopeless, so forlorn. My ankle ached, unignorably, I was tired, I was scared... My heart ached desperately too. And usually a hug from my uncle Johnny would be a kind of comfort for me, he'd always been the softest of my dad's crowd, always been the kindest to me... Usually a hug from him was enough to pacify my sorrow and settle my worried mind but just then when he bundled me up in his arms and rubbed a hand over my back I just found myself crying harder.

He wasn't Sam. Sam was all I wanted.

"Shh now eh love, divvnt get all upset like, you had a horrible old night eh but you're home now, safe an sound like... S'all alreet now darlin, no tears eh..." he hushed me stroking my hair and setting me back down, wiping my tears away with his thumbs as he held my face in his hands and studied my sad expression. "It's alreet Meadow love, you're home now..." he said.

But I didn't feel at home. I felt lost. I felt untethered. I felt like the only way I'd ever feel at home again were if I was somehow, by some kind of miracle, returned to Sam's side.

That was all I wanted. The only thing in the world which could make me feel alright.

Johnny rolled up my trouser leg and pressed his fingers gently to the swelling. When I gasped at the sudden sharp sting that shot through me he winced. He said he was sorry but he didn't stop trying to work out what I'd done.

"Darlin a know ydivvnt wanna go but..."

"Nuh uh.." I shook my head, voice quiet and caught in my throat when I realised what he was going to say.

"Sorry sweetpea but I don't know whether it's broken, you coulda chipped it an if you have you'll be better gettin it looked at sooner rather than later..."

"No!' I whined, pouting and shaking my head, trying to shift away from him only to wince when I put pressure on my bad ankle and the pain shot through and paralysed me again. "Fuck sake.." I cried sniffling into my hand, biting my fingers to try and regulate myself.

It was strange. I could work at the hospital, I could work the wards night and day, double shifts sometimes, but I hated being a patient. Hated being on the other side. Something to do with my childhood probably, something to do with sitting at my father's bedside when he was too doped up to speak, when the doctor had informed us that one more episode like the last and we'd be burying him.

But in the end I didn't have to put up much of a fight. Because in the end Van had grown impatient waiting to hear back from Johnny as to my whereabouts. In the end he'd come looking for me himself and when he found my front door unlocked and heard us talking inside he'd stormed in. That "worry" Johnny had promised me wasn't anger doing very well to look red and raging.

Less like concern and more like a paranoid temper.

"So you fuckin found her then.." he said, his voice dark, thick with the threat he was making. He fixed me with a glare, icy blue eyes piercing and flooded with an accusatory flare.

"Ten minutes ago aye Van," Johnny shook his head, "she's had a fuckin rough night an all..." He started trying to warn Van off from starting the fight we could both sense brewing.

"Oh aye a bet she has..." he glowered sullen, slamming the kitchen door shut behind him as he came to stand in front of me. "Where the fuck did you run off to Meadow... I fuckin saw what happened so don't you dare lie to me... Who was that with you last night cause he ain't one of us..."

I shook as I looked up at him, tears already streaking my cheeks, silent tears I was struggling to restrain with my hand over my mouth. I was trembling all over despite Johnny's best efforts to be gentle with me, to soothe me.

"Fuckin hell Van..." groaned Bondy, his temper prickling because he'd always been defensive of me.

"You can fuckin shut it an all!" Snapped Van before turning back to me, his glare sharp and wounding stabbing through my heart with a spike of cold fear.

"I... I... I don't know Van I had my eyes closed and I.."

"She didn't see him mate her eyes were closed, she was so scared she just ran away alright... If you don't believe that you're mental, look at the poor lass she's terrified..."

For a second Van remained silent, his breathing a little ragged, the adrenaline of his temper making the rise and fall of every breath just that little bit sharper. I couldn't take my eyes of the gleam of the thin chain he wore around his neck, how it caught the light as it moved up and down with every snatched breath.

When he snatched the collar of my sweater and yanked me in towards his face his breath was warm on mine. I snatched a breath, my bottom lip trembling, my eyes fluttering shut too scared even to look him in the eyes. All the time my heart racing, my mind praying for Sam... I wasn't sure how I expected him to save me but still, he was all I could think of, all I could wish for in that moment. For Sam to burst in, scoop me up and take me far away never to return again.

It made me feel a little crazy when I realised that that was all I could think of. Made me scared to realise just how crazy I felt.

"Who the fuck is he Meadow? You got some secret boyfriend now have you? Fuckin tell me who saved you... Where did he take you? Don't fuckin think you can lie to me sweetheart, your dad was a shit liar and you take after him... I can fuckin see it yeah, I'll fuckin know if you're lying to me..."

So I didn't say a word, just cried, just let all my sorrow and fear, all my hopelessness hit me like a tonne of bricks. Just sobbed and crumbled, limp where he held me by the scruff of my neck. Cried until Johnny got tired of hearing me so scared and Van so paranoid and unreasonable.

"Reet, 'av had enough of this... Fuckin let her go Van, you're not a fuckin animal." He sighed wrapping his arm around me and drawing me into his side protectively. "Look at her for fuck sake she isn't lying to you... It's exactly like the stupid cunt said, it wasn't a Fender who went for her... it was probably some stupid lad lookin to make a name for himself... he'll probably come sniffin around in a few days lookin for some kind of fuckin reward..." he said pushing Van away from me, meeting Vans searing glare with one of his own. "Reet," he said then letting out a sigh, "Med needs a fuckin x-ray so am gan take her to the hospital now if you don't mind..."

"No!" Me and Van spoke at the same time, both of us sharp, both of us wide eyed and disbelieving but for different reasons.

Still he was happy to hear I was siding with him.

"What are you talkin about "no"? See the size of her ankle she needs a fuckin doctor!"

I shrunk back, trying to press my body into the sofa cushions, trying to distance myself from them both. From Johnny and his good intentions. From Van and the unforgiving look he was giving me.

"What she needs Bond is to get herself down to The Angel... We don't want our regulars thinkin we've got trouble do we, don't want anyone gettin scared off so our best girls gonna get herself on that stage and she's gonna fuckin sing like her pretty little head depends on it eh?" He said looking past Bondy, glaring over his shoulder at me. Talking only really to me.

"You want her to fuckin sing?" Johnny looked genuinely shocked, despairing in fact, as though he didn't know what Van was like. Didn't realise the tyrant he worked with. "Van the girl canna even fuckin walk! How the fucks she gan stand on that stage and sing eh?"

"Get her a fuckin stool Bond..." he snapped shoving past him, stopping in the kitchen doorway to stare me down once more.

"I fuckin mean it Meadow if you ain't there by 8 I swear to god I'll drag you on that stage my fuckin self alright?"

When he left those words hanging in the air like that, like little daggers strung from spider silk threads above me, I knew there was no way I could disobey him. Knew that not even Bondy, as protective of me as he was, would risk disobeying me. Still I could hardly feel relief, could hardly smile having been granted the small mercy of an evening away from the confines of a minor injuries unit.

When the door slammed Bondy let out a long groan, ran his hands through his hair and opened his mouth to speak. He thought better of it however moments later turning away, mumbling something about how he was going to put the kettle on and run me a bath. Two things I was grateful for.

When he left I sat in silence, exhausted, still shaking with the fear Van had instilled in me. I wouldn't stop shaking for the rest of the evening.

I wouldn't ever rid myself of those lingering tears either.

When I closed my eyes I felt them gather in my lashes. I tipped my head back and tried to breath out a long sigh, tried to release some of the tension in my aching body but it was no good.

Johnny came back, carried me to the bathroom and placed me fully clothed into the warm water, telling me to get undressed once he was gone. Leaving me with a cup of tea and another apology. Trying to convince me that Van wasn't really angry with me.

"He's just pissed that it happened at all, shouldnt'a fuckin happened at all like, he's just angry with himself cause he thinks it's his fault..." he said not really expecting me to say anything in return. "I'll take you the hospital after you've sung eh? Get you checked out proper like... An I'll... For fuck sake, am gonna get yous somet for the pain alright..."

"Don't think paracetamols gan cut it uncle Johnny..." I simpered forcing a small smile, a sad little laugh when he shook his head.

"You know what I mean poppet.." he said softer, his voice seeping with guilt. And when I realised what he meant my heart dropped.

"I'll be fine without..." I started to say, chewing my cheek a little nervously. Thinking of my father... Thinking about how it had all started. One injury too many, a quick fix for an unbearable pain.

"Trust me sweetheart," sighed Johnny, "y'gonna need somethin.." he said and in the end he was right. I knew he was right.

So I let him roll a joint for us to share and then I let him cut me a few lines of coke in the back room at the Angel. I did as I was told, obedient as I was and I thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. Knew that he was trying to do right where his friend had done so horribly wrong. Knew that it was a kindness he'd done me, a small mercy. Full of those as my uncle Johnny was.

And yet as I sat there, trembling in the back room, those small mercies came with little comfort. His kindness, his carefullness, the gentle warm way he held me before he helped me walk out onto the stage. None of it offered me any real comfort. None of it made me feel better

There was only one comfort I could offer myself, a fleeting naive one at best.

The thought that perhaps, just maybe, Sam would be stupid enough to show his face at The Angel again that evening. That perhaps he'd be there lurking in the shadows once more. That I might feel his presence in the room even if I did not get to speak to him. Even if I didn't get to see him for more than a second as I sang another love song and thought of him. Perhaps he would be there listening, perhaps he would know that every word I sang I sang for him.

But my prayers, my little wishes were to go unanswered and when I sat there that evening, trembling upon the bar stool Johnny had helped me to perch on, I felt a hollow ache inside like I'd never felt before.

I couldn't see him, he wasn't there. There was no devoted stranger lurking in the shadows with thoughts of only me. My fierce protector was nowhere to be seen. And I could feel his absence, could feel in my heart that not only was he not here with me, that he was very far away, completely out of reach.

So as I sang my song again, Johnny's favourite, the one I'd been singing when Sam had rushed to my rescue the evening before, I felt the desperation of that melancholy melody.

And I still can see blue velvet

Through my tears

I felt the watery heartache in my eyes and knew I wouldn't be able to hold back my loneliness, my despair.

[steeltempered]

❛ what did it mean to you? any of it? ❜ // Levy @ gaj 👀

@fairybond

It was bound to come up. For years, he's been hoping for the day that she would confront him. Truthfully, he was beginning to think that it just wouldn't be brought up; that she perhaps just wanted to forget it as badly as he'd wanted to undo it.

How could she forget?

He tugs on the gauze that binds his arm - a little harder than before, upon hearing her question. Admittedly, he's a bit tense, trying to string together the right words. And at the same time, relieved. He's held an apology on his tongue for almost two years now─ignoring the seven during which they were frozen in time.

Memories of the past always do come up when one comes close to dying, after all. And they’d both gotten a bit too close this time.

He grumbles quietly, taking a bit long for his gaze to meet hers. “... At the time? It meant nothing other than... A means to an end. I wanted to take my old guild master down with me.” And in the beginning, when he joined Phantom Lord─after Gajeel had killed that boy, Jose had had it scrubbed from his record... It had always been an unspoken thing between them.

Jose had not outright threatened Gajeel that time... Not right away.

... But Gajeel wasn’t completely daft. He was clever, and he knew there was a silent promise hanging in the air.

“It took me a long time to accept how far Jose was willing to go, and what he was willing to risk. I didn’t care that he assigned me the dirtiest work. For a while, I took pride in it. He trusted me enough, I thought.” He admitted, knowing Levy wouldn’t want to hear that, but he owed her an honest answer. This was part of that ugly truth.

“I suppose that once he intended on starting a guild-war... And wanted me to bait Makarov, something sort of... Snapped in me. That’s really why I did that to you. It was never about you, or Jet or Droy. The truth is that it didn’t matter who I found in there that day. I was gonna do that to the first person I came across, so long as I could take ‘em.” He needs to tear his gaze away from Levy at this point, because he’s ashamed.

He shifts his feet uncomfortably, and bows his head a bit. 

“My task was simple. Get in, attack, and get out. Leave no evidence implicating Phantom Lord explicitly, but do enough to let Makarov know who exactly was behind it. Y'see, everyone knew how impulsive Fairy Tail mages were known for bein'... So I did the opposite. I made sure that everyone knew who really started it. He was willing to risk the entire guild, and I fuckin’ knew he was gonna pin it on whoever was most convenient at the time. Jose was gonna drown us all either way. My goal was to drown Jose right along with us.” Gajeel scoffs at himself.

Stupid. Such a stupid line of thinking.

He forces himself to look back at Levy. To take in her expression, because it’s only fair that they both get to feel uncomfortable.

“When really... I should have just taken care of things myself without ever showing up at Magnolia.” And though he is apologetic, he would never reveal the real reason he never went to the council:

Gajeel killed that boy. It was never his intention, but whether or not that is the case, the fact is that it happened.

“I should have never done that to you. You were innocent. And I was a deplorable little bitch. 'Made my baggage everyone else's problem.” He tells her, and stands up, taking a deep, albeit shaky breath.

“I’m sorry for torturing you. And for scarring you, Levy. I was a fuckin' asshole for puttin' my hands on you. On any of you. I know that's never going to go away. I know. I've just─ I’ve been wanting to tell you that for a long time, I just, uh... I didn’t think it was fair to make you think about what I did to you.”

He turns away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not till you were ready. I know that apologies will never be enough. If it was possible, I’d make it up to you. But it’s not. And I can’t.” Gajeel tells her, before walking away from her and beginning to search for Natsu in the crowd of injured mages.

They're both tired, and injured, and they nearly died. Gajeel is too exhausted to think straight, and he has a feeling he's going to regret the way he worded some of that later.

[asshlyyyy]

Just The Nurse

Series Warnings: Language, Drug abuse, mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs. Colonel not liking the reader, probably some medical terms are incorrect, mentions of Elvis' potential death, health terms, health issues, yelling, fighting. Spelling and grammatical errors are likely. Individual chapter warnings will appear as needed.

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter 3: Unchained Melody

"I need the goddamn pills!" Elvis yelled, his face red as he looked at you through the mirror.

"No, you don't! Just calm down!" You argued with him. The two of you stood in his hotel bathroom. His hands on the counter, knuckles turned white from the tight grip.

"How the hell am I supposed to go on stage like this?!" He argued and looked back at you. He already had sweat dripping down his forehead. You let out a sigh and rubbed your face. Every time he went to perform a concert, he always got like this. Well, for the most part. He wanted to make sure he put on an amazing show, and you knew that his stress and anger were fueled by the colonel.

"Calm down will ya! Just stop! Listen to me!" You begged him.

"I am sick and tired of listenin' to ya! I should just go to Dr. Nic." He shook his head.

"Don't you fucking dare. I will jump on you." You warned him. You moved your body away from the door frame, just in case you would have to.

"Do it I'll fuckin' throw ya on the floor." He sucked in a breath. 

"You're just stressed! You're going to be amazing! You're fucking Elvis Presley!" You raised your voice.

"Damn right I am, you should be listin' to me, not the other way around!"

"I don't want to listen to anything that comes out of your mouth! Because all it is... it's whining! Every single bit!" You were now just angry at him at this point. He clenched his fist and looked at you. There was no way you were going to let him relapse. Not under your watch.  He reached his hand up as to hit you, but instead, he reached into his belt and pulled out the gun, and shot it at the mirror. You let out a light squeal and shielded yourself.

"Jesus Christ, Elvis! The hell are you tryin' to do! You're going to alert everyone!" You yelled at him.

"Just get me some pill-"

You didn't know what came over you, but you slapped him... and you slapped him hard... He looked at you and it's like everything inside him was lit on fire. He grabbed hold of your wrist, it wasn't a hard grip, but it was something.

"I-I'm sorry y-you- you just- I'm sorry." You struggled to say. Elvis let out a sigh and shook his head. He let go of your wrist after a bit and walked past you towards the couch. He plopped down and placed his head in his hands. You took a moment to yourself to process everything... You then walked over towards him. You took a seat next to him and brought your feet up to your chest.

"You're nervous... and... you're mad at yourself for that." You started to speak and looked over at him. "You want pills to forget about that worry. To calm your nerves. They don't do that," you shook your head. He lifted his head and looked at you.

"You think they're the answer to everything... so... you keep drowning them... every day... every hour... you want the pain to leave. To go out on stage and put on one hell of a show... Do- … Do you know how my brother got in a coma?" He shook his head no. That was a silly question to ask... of course, he wouldn't know.

"He was nervous. He got nervous a lot... asking someone out... going for a job interview... He got nervous about everything... I gave him something to help. It was one little pill... but that's all it takes. When I wasn't looking... he kept digging for more... and once that high ran out... he went for more... and more... and more... I blame myself every single day since I found him passed out.  He blames himself... I blame myself... but... Elvis... I- I don't know what I would do if I found you passed out... I- or even dead..." You found yourself starting to tear up.

"I mean... I'm here to save you and..." you shook your head. "I wouldn't know how to feel. Not to mention all the hate I would get... People would blame me... People would definitely send me death threats... and I-" You felt an arm wrap around you and soon you were engulfed in Elvis' chest. You let out a shaky breath and gripped his shirt lightly.

"I ain' gonna die, honey. Especially when you're watchin' out for me." He spoke gently.  He ran his hand against your back gently. A knock broke you guys out of your sentimental moment, and a voice piped up.

"Mr. Presley, you're on soon." 

"They always bother me at the worse times." He sighed and looked at you with his beautiful eyes. 

"Always seems like it," you let out a light chuckle and shook your head.

"I should get down there before they think I ran." Elvis kissed the side of your head. You nodded slightly and pulled away. 

"Yeah... yeah..." You stood up and fixed your shirt. "Come on then." You wiped away the few stray tears that ran down your face.

Elvis stood up and held his hand against the small of your back. The two of your made it out of his room and down to the showroom. It didn't take long until you guys were at the edge of the stage. Elvis looked at you before he had to go on stage. He knew it was still on your mind. It was his fault, it's all his fault. His anger issues... everything really.

"I'll have ya on my mind the whole time," Elvis said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. He pulled away and left you astonished as he walked onto the stage. Did that really just happen? I mean... obviously, something happened.

Maybe he was just being nice? He didn't like you in general, there was no way he would like you... like as a romantic partner... You were lost for words really. All you guys did was fight, and fight. Sure you had some moments where things were calm and maybe you thought something was there... but...

It's been half a year now since you stepped into Graceland. While Elvis has pretty much accepted that there was no way to get rid of you... there were still moments where you two argued and he would break shit. I think that's when you got the most scared. He did get violent but he would... never hurt you. You didn't know how long you were standing there until you heard Elvis change up directions.

"I Uh- heh- I want to dedicate this next song to someone very special to me. She's uh- She's a pain in the ass," he chuckled lightly, "her name is Y/n." You looked out towards the stage and watched as he moved over the piano. What was he doing... and why? He's going too far now. Is he proclaiming his love for you? What the hell was happening right now? He is dedicating a song to you. What... is... happening!?

"This song is not my song... Uh- it's by the righteous brothers. I hope y'all enjoy it."

You didn't know why, but you wanted to sink down. You wanted to disappear. You felt so many things. Embarrassment yes, but you felt flattered. How many songs did he dedicate to people in his life? Okay, don't answer that. You didn't want to know. You wanted to live in a world where you were the only one. 

"Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered for your touch. A long, lonely time. And time goes by so slowly. And time can do so much. Are you still mine? I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me"

Part of you wanted to cry. Part of you wanted to run away. You couldn't fall in love with your patient... he wasn't really a patient... technically... but you were his caregiver... For the most part. It was wrong to love someone whom you took care of... This was your job... Just a job... it's just a job.

"Lonely rivers flow. To the sea, to the sea. To the open arms of the sea. Lonely rivers cry... wait for me, wait for me. I'll be coming home, wait for me."

His blue eyes found yours from across the stage. It was like no one else was there but you... he was singing to you... for you... with you in his mind. It's like whatever happened earlier changed something in him, but... he's fallen for you way before that... you just didn't know.

"Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered for your touch... a long, lonely time. I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me"

Chills ran all over your body. Goosebumps laid across your bare skin. Your own eyes were locked onto his. It was like... it was like a serenade really. Something you never imagined to ever receive. Hell, you weren't even married at this time and you were in your thirties. Yeah... Most girls your age were married... had some kids even... yet here you were. Standing backstage staring back at Elvis Presley.

"Miss. Y/l/n," you turned your head to the sound. Colonel Tom Parker stood behind you. He held a wicked grin and you knew it meant something bad. Ever since you first met him... you felt that there was something sketchy about him, and it wasn't that he was just mistreating Elvis. 

"Yes?" You asked with a sweet voice.

"I'd like to talk to you for a moment." He said like he wasn't already talking to you.

"Then talk," you replied simply. You couldn't hear much of what he was saying, and you wanted to keep it that way.

"Let's go somewhere quieter." He suggested, holding his cane out towards the hallway.

"Whatever you have to say, you can tell me right here." You said Ever since you saw him and Dr. Nic trying to give Elvis pills... you always had this feeling that... that they would do something. Put something in his water... put something in his food... You just didn't trust them at all. It's like they wanted complete control over him... Well... that- or they wanted to kill him.

"Well, it's just a bit too loud... Can't exactly hear each other." He chuckled lightly. You shook your head and just figured it was best to get it over with.

"You have five minutes," you stated and started to walk down the hallway. You too walked into a small room that was most likely used for storage. The Colonel found a free space and took it upon himself to sit down. He looked at you.

"Now, I know something about you Miss Y/l/n." He started to speak. You looked at him confused. "I know you aren't who you say you are."

"What are you trying to say?" You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, arms folded across your chest.

"I know Vernon hired you to try... and 'save' Elvis. It would be a shame if word got out that you killed your brother with your... medications... the same ones you're giving Elvis."

"I didn't kill my brother. He's alive." You got even more confused with every word that came out of his mouth. 

"Are you sure about that?" He raised his eyebrow. This man- what is he- what is even happening? This whole night is just a big whole mess of~ You didn't even know what to call it. 

"Don't try and lie to me. I know my brother is alive, so whatever lies you try to tell me... I'm not listening." You shook your head. You couldn't believe that he would try to pull something like this... well... it didn't shock you much.

"You will... When you look at those headlines... Y/n Y/l/n... Elvis' personal nurse is killing him." He spoke. You just shook your head in response.

"You're the one killing Elvis" You spat back. You couldn't believe that he was blaming you, you were trying to save him after all.

"That's not what the papers will say if you don't leave."

"So what you're threatening me now?" You let out a laugh and shook your head.

"I'm ruining your career, sweetheart, now leave before someone comes and kills you." He spoke. You let out a breath and shook your head.

You didn't want to believe him, but you knew he would do it. You didn't want to leave Elvis... but you knew you had to. You let out a sigh and turned on your heel and walked away. 

It didn't matter how long you've known Elvis. You've felt like you've known him for years... Back when he was just getting started with Music you were in school. You were extremely lucky and fortunate to be able to go to school. Your family wasn't rich... so... school wasn't exactly in mind for you.

You knew who Elvis was the moment his first single gave out. All your friends were talking and playing it. Then on breaks when you would go home... Your sister was playing it. You never escaped Elvis... It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but... 

You made your way through the white walls. People rushed around, loud and yelling. Your heart was falling at this moment. It felt like it left your body knowing that... that you had to leave. You knew the colonel had power... He could turn your career into shit overnight. Worse... you knew somehow... somehow... he would get to your family. Kill your brother.

You made your way up to the room that you and Elvis shared. Elvis didn't want you far away from him, knowing how bad he got around the time he had a show... show he wanted you close. Always close to him. It's crazy how much can change between two people when you spend every waking second next to each other.

Truth be told... you were scared. His words kept getting to you... the death threats... someone would kill you... It wasn't the case with Elvis when he received death threats and could handle it. You... You were just a normal simple girl...You never feared for your life when you were with Elvis... but now you felt trapped. Stay for love... or leave for safety? 

I Can't Help Falling In Love With You... a song Elvis ended with for his fans, but the more he sang it... the more he sang it about you. He felt like a fool falling so quickly for someone after his divorce. You were everything though... You took care of him like no one ever did... well... at least since his mama died.

As he finished off the song and gave his fans one last look. He rushed off stage to find you. All he wanted to do was hold your face in his hands and kiss you, but when he didn't see you... and instead saw the Colonel he knew something was up. You were always there, no matter what. You made sure of that. 

"Where's Y/n?" Elvis asked, his eyes not bothering to look at Colonel

"She's packing up and leaving." The colonel answered. That made Elvis shoot his head in the Colonel's direction. There was no way you were leaving him... right?

"What? Why?" He asked.

"Well-"

"Actually, I don't want to hear your lies." Elvis shook his head and started to rush his way up to his room. You guys were all the way in Elvis, there was nowhere for you to go. Let alone any way to get home without him. No... he wouldn't let you leave... Especially not when he was about to proclaim his love for you.

As he waited impatiently in the elevator, he rushed out once it had reached his floor. He pushed open the door and you came into his sight. Body hunched over your bag as you furiously and sadly stuffed clothes in, not bothering to fold them. He could hear you sniffling and wiping away tears the moment he walked in.

"Honey," You turned at his voice and wiped away a few tears.

"I have to go, Elvis." Your voice was soft and fragile... like at any moment you could break.

"Why? And don' lie to me either." He walked closer to you. You let out a sigh and gripped the dress in your hands. You were sure you were wrinkling it up from your grip.

"Because Colonel threatened to tell everyone the truth." You breathed out.

"That truth? Ain' no one gonna care you're ma nurse." Elvis answered confused. 

"They will when he says I killed my brother! And that I'm going to kill you next!" You bursted out as tears started to fall. Elvis didn't know what to say. Elvis let out a breath and pulled you away from the luggage, and into him. You let out a sob and pressed your face up against his chest. Arms wrapped around him tightly, gripping the back of his top. You didn't want to leave, you wanted to stay with Elvis. 

"I won' let him." Elvis spoke softly. You just shook your head in response. "He can' just go be-" he stopped himself and sighed. The colonel did go behind Elvis' back and he knew that.

"I have to leave... I-I don't want people to think I'm killing you. I-" you start to whimper. Elvis lifts his finger under your chin and pushes your head up to look at him.

"Darlin', you're not leaving."

"B-but I have to..."

"No, you don't." He pressed his hands against your cheeks and caressed them lightly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sighed.

"If he says somethin' I'll talk against it. People will believe me more than, that conman." He spoke. Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to calm down, but you still worried about what would happen if you stayed.

"E-Elvis... I-"

Elvis pushed his lips upon yours. Your eyes widened at first, but you fell into it. Your tight grip releases into a relaxed hold... You pushed yourself up on your tippy toes and leaned into the touch. His lips... were well... They were rough, chapped... tasted like sweat... but... there was a strange feeling that you got. A good feeling. An absolutely amazing feeling.

"I love you," Elvis mumbled against your lips.

"Wh- What?" You looked at him confused. He nodded and pulled his face away. "I sound like a fool," he chuckled lightly, "a real fool."

"Yeah," you chuckled lightly and shook your head. You pulled away slightly but Elvis still held a grip on you.

"I didn't scare ya, did I?"

"Well, I've seen a lot of your outbursts, Mr. Presley. Saying you love me doesn't change anything"

"Wel.. uh... I don't mean to be pushy or anything b-"

"I love you, too." You said softly. It sounded crazy coming out of your mouth. Sure you were conflicting with yourself all day about it... but... when the time came to it... you said it without a second thought.

"No shit-"

"I was actually just thinking about it... Do I stay for love? or leave for safety..." you confessed and played with the collar of his top.

"Stay, you can have both." Elvis breathed against your neck, pressing a light kiss to it. "I'll protect you."

"But the col-"

"He's fired-"

"Elvis y-"

"No, I'm not riskin' it again." Elvis shook his head, "I fucked up with Priscilla, I'm not fuckin' up with you."

You don't know how, but you forgot all about Priscilla... which is weird considering you'll be there between exchanges. You noticed how sad he was every time... he really missed Priscilla yet... here he was talking to you, about how much he loved you. Maybe this was okay... maybe... just maybe you two can be together.

"Elvis... I-"

"Shh, no thoughts... just you and me." He takes your hand, pulling you along with him. You knew where he was taking you... and you were completely fine with that.

Elvis pushed you down onto the bed and waved his finger up and down. You knew what he meant.  Your hands shook so much you struggled to grip your shirt. Elvis laughed at your struggles and shook his head. You must've looked like a fool... but in his eyes... you were an angel.

"Relax darlin', I ain' gonna hurt you." He said gently, still getting out of his clothes. You shook your head.

"Just feeling a lot of things right now..." You admitted. Elvis leaned down and took your hands in his.

"Forget them all, I'm gonna make ya feel loved, and far beyond." He whispered and pressed his lips against yours.

You breathed heavily as Elvis plopped down next to you. His hand still enclasped in yours. Is this was love felt like? That warm bubbly feeling in your stomach? The same one that made your heart flutter every time you looked at him. You hated that you loved this man, but god... you were... you were so happy.

"You're so beautiful," Elvis whispered gently.

"Should you be telling your nurse that?" You raised an eyebrow at him as a slight smirk tugged at your lips.

"No, but I can tell my future wife that." He winked and left you breathless at your own game.

Did you die? This had to be a cruel joke right? All of it... It... It just didn't make sense. There was no way Elvis actually... he didn't love you... how could he? It just- It didn't add up. You don't fall in love that quick...  Well... usually, yet here you were. Totally head over heels for the man who swore he wanted nothing to do with you.

Funny how things change.

Beep...

Beep...

Beep

Beep

Beep

You let out a loud gasp and jerked forward. Your eyes searched around you frantically trying to figure out where you were. Your hands gripped the sheets as you felt intense pain entering your body. You could barely make out the intensified beeping in the background as voices yelled around you.

The walls were white...? Where were you? You were certainly not back at the hotel room where you and Elvis were... just a second ago. Where was Elvis?

"Doctor! She's awake!"

Who was awake? Why is there a doctor? Someone needs to talk—

Mutual Taglist: @darlinboypresley @emmymaehereeeeee @venus-haze @austinstyles

[sortagaysortahigh]

48 on the 1st smut prompts list for steve please 🥵

48: “you can’t take back what you said.”

stop rn this is giving me dom!steve putting the reader in her place vibes.

WARNINGS: choking, slight dacryphillia, smacking, slight dumbification, mean!rough!dom!steve, p in v unprotected secks, creampie, fingering, squirting

Join the sleepover

His hand gripped her throat, her head thrown back against his pillows as he pounded into her, moans and whimpers leaving her lips as she tried to hold her orgasm. "please Steve-please let me cum" he smirked, looking down at her, tightening his grip on her throat the slightest bit "no-you don't deserve it-so fuckin hold it"

She grasped his forearm, her back arching into him as he continued his relentless pace, he'd already made her cum three times, he knew what he was doing when he fingered her on the drive home, she was cumming around his thick fingers before he'd even parked in his driveway. Then he did it again, except he bent her over the bathroom sink, three fingers rapidly plunging into her sopping cunt, she hadn't even fully realized what he had planned.

Instead when he heard the sink running he walked into the bathroom, his hands gently trailing along her body as he stared at her questioning reflection, a smirk on his face as he reached the hem of her tight little dress, hands grasping her ass-massaging over the flesh-earning a few moans before he hiked it up.

Then his fingers were trailing along her inner thighs, moving to her bare cunt-her panties situated on the floor of his car, as she mumbled 'please' he simply nodded his head-instead of easing into her he immediately slid two fingers into her slick cunt, then when she was whining and gripping the sink he placed a hand on her shoulder blade-pushing her down before sliding a third finger into her.

All the while he degraded her, calling her his pretty little whore, going on about how arrogant she was, how she talked too much shit all the time, even calling her a dumb little girl because she'd told Robin and Nancy that she called the shots in her relationship.

Then once she came, he pulled her back into the bedroom-pushing her onto the bed-and before she knew it he was lining himself up with her entrance-listening to her whine and beg for more. She loved it when he manhandled her, loved it even more when he grasped her jaw-squeezed her cheeks the slightest bit then smacked her, all while he fucked into her.

then her third orgasm was shooting through her entire body as he fucked her hard. Her legs wrapped around his waist while she drowned in the pleasure of overstimulation. However she was in too deep now-he never stopped fucking into her, if anything he'd gotten faster and harder-he knew he was brushing against her g-spot, her cunt squeezing him because she desperately needed to cum.

However he wouldn't let her "Hold it princess, you talked all that shit and now look at you-crying because you wanna cum. that's too fuckin bad" she nodded her head, the tears trailing down her cheeks as she tried to hold back. "If you cum I'm gonna fuck you like a needy little whore all night long until you can't fuckin walk" she moaned, nodding her head.

"Steve-please I'm sorry-fuck I'm sorry" he raised a brow "you can't take back what you said baby, you wanted to act like you're in charge-little miss I call the shots-now look at you-so fucking used and desperate" she squeezed her eyes shut, his degrading tone almost poisonous-and it was making it even harder for her to hold back.

"I can't steve I can't fuck I can't" he raised his brows, a faux pout on his lips "yeah? you can't hold it-you need it so bad don't you? too fuckin bad-hold it" with that he fucked into her a few more times before throwing his head back, his orgasm washing over his entire figure as he filled her with his warmth, rope after rope. Then he pulled out-leaving her on edge as she whimpered, looking up at him through teary eyes.

"Aw my little dumb crybaby-look at you" he grabbed her jaw again-it was almost humiliating, his cum leaking out of her as she whimpered and whined-needing another orgasm. She was so desperate for him. Then he moved back, resting on his knees between her legs-pushing them even wider before sliding three fingers right into her fucked out cunt, her hands gripping the sheets while she moaned.

"gotta keep my cum inside, remind you who's really in fuckin charge, you wanna cum? fuckin cum" she bit down on her bottom lip, then she moaned his name, her orgasm washing over her entire body, it felt different-that was because she squirted-making a mess of Steve's hand, his chest, and his sheets.

"Fuckin love when my little cum slut squirts like that" she nodded her head, completely out of breath and so high on pleasure that she couldn't even fully process that she'd squirted all over him.

[sarahsmi13s]

no... no no no... lucky.. you can't do this to me

tyler, you twat waffle... you tit bag... you fucking villainous grasshopper

"You have something that belongs to me."

bitch, get the fuck out of here, you know what belongs to you, you belly button lint looking mother, my foot in your ass and your balls down your throat

that fucking white car won't be so white after i slam your face into the hood you waste of fucking air

oh tyler you fucking prick

yeah you are a fucking sperm donor and you think that just because you have money and a status that your owed rights?! fuck all the way off with that shit

"Though I'll admit after that, it was pretty easy leaving her there on the side of the road," he remarked nonchalantly. "That tree practically came out of no where."

LUCKY

WHAT THE FUCK

i mean once he said he met with ridley on the day of the storm, i kinda predicted he had something to do with it... like idk cut her brakes so he could just walk the other way like he did when sadie was born... so he could hopefully walk away scott fucking free.

but this statement made me sick to my stomach.

because that means he was there, he was right in the fucking middle of it. he wanted to be there to make sure ridley died, to ensure that she wouldn't get the help she needed until it was too fucking late. he knew there would be a storm and he knew that if he ran her off the road it would look like some freak accident.

and at the very beginning liz told sadie that her mom was in her car for another reason than to come to her, never did i think that reason would be for her death... she was set up to die so tyler could get his hands on sadie...

and then the fucking fight, if you could call it that, like damn lucky, painting a picture in my mind that tyler is just fucking insane, insane enough that he did this to liz with a straight fucking face

this is premeditated, much like ridley's death, and it's sickening

well fucking done my friend

and jake coming in to find liz like that, beaten, bruised, and handcuffed to a fridge, is fucking heart breaking, him trying to break her free as she's screaming for him to go find sadie, because sadie comes first

then liz questioning everything about her ability to be an apt guardian for sadie... sweetheart, this isn't your fault, it's the fucking load that should have been swallowed's fault. he's a fucking spoiled ass brat with a belly button dick

----

okay slight detour -- can i kick jake's dad's ass?

because kicking his son to the barn like a fucking animal because he STOOD UP FOR HIS SISTER

WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT

----

SADIE NO

NO LITTLE BUG

😭

"Uh, that would have been easier to deal with"

tyler i swear to whatever is listening that i will chop your dick off and feed it to you like a damned hot dog

yeah, fuckin run away you fucking coward, i hope you wreck your white car into a sewage system you prick

"I picked you too, you know." "Why give me the chance to be your uncle if you're not here for me to do it?"

FUCKING OW

"Please, Bug. Don't do this. Not because of me."

i reiterate -> FUCKING OW

Sadie was limp in Jake's arms. Your legs finally gave out as you sank your knees into the sand, a heart-wrenching cry tearing its way up your throat as your question of what happened was answered. The blood matting the back of her head and through Jake's fingers told you all you needed to know. 

AND HOW DARE YOU END IT WITH THAT IMAGE IN MY HEAD

i'm so glad i don't have to wait

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 11 - Dream On

📜... I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come... I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come... 👀

❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child, shitty family dynamics, attempted kidnapping, violence, physical violence, slight verbal abuse, fighting, people are getting hurt in this one, and mentions of blood.

(This part might not be for everyone, so I will say if you want to skip over some of the more descriptive parts, the second someone sees Sadie, please skip to the end.)

#5.5k Words

Part 10 | Masterlist | Part 12

You had no idea what Jake had planned for your second date, and you started feeling guilty.

All Jake told you was to wear something you could easily change out of. He was supposed to pick you up after your shift and take you to some undisclosed location for 'dinner and an experience that would change your life.’ Then he proceeded to tell you Maverick wanted to spend time with Sadie.

Rooster had picked Sadie up from school and dropped her off at the bar.

If he knew anything about you and Jake, he hadn't let on. Whether it was you threatening to take his Sadie privileges away or the chat he had with Jake did something, you were slightly grateful. Perhaps it could make the blow a little softer, for when you told him you broke your promise of not falling for Jake's charms.

But that wasn't the cause for your guilt.

When Jake dropped you back home after the fair, he had respectfully walked you to the door like he wanted. Five minutes before Sadie's curfew, he kissed your cheek and asked if he could see you again. You had asked him if Friday afternoon was too soon, to which he teasingly replied, "So, you just don't want to be friends then?"

Having never gone past a first date, let alone had a date that went as well as this one, you felt a little lost. All those little nuisances of what you were supposed to do now, running amuck in your head - if you could plan the next set of dates or surprise him. He was doing everything right, at least what you believed to be right.

Besides Javy, there wasn't anyone else you could ask about what Jake liked to do. It wasn't the same as asking him what Jake liked to eat; you already had done that when you decided he could return for another Saturday night. It also wouldn't be the same or such a surprise if you asked him yourself. And you wouldn't dare go snoop.

But then you realized, in your panic, you maybe had more to work with than you thought, pulling out your phone to see if any country concerts were coming up that Jake might like to see. The bar was empty, save for you and Sadie, due to a surfing tournament on another beach. You had the time to investigate before Jimmy came to relieve you anyway.

But then you were pulled from your search, a text notification appearing along the top. A message from Maverick that said he was on his way to pick up Sadie.

"Uncle Mav is on his way, Bug! Do you have your helmet?" you called out.

Hearing a thump on the bar, you turned to see Sadie looking at you expectantly, her late Christmas gift from the entire Squad sticking out like a sore thumb. The shiny red helmet was littered with Lady Bugs along both sides, the words Bug in bright, bold letters on the front mocking the designs of their own helmets.

"Am I stupid?" she asked sarcastically. "He drives so fast. I'm not going anywhere without it."

You laughed at her softly. " I'm just making sure. What about your homework?"

"It's Friday," she pouted.

"Sadie..."

"Uncle Jake said he'd help me study for my math test tomorrow," she relented. "It's the end of the school year. I just want to enjoy this night with Uncle Mav before things get busy. Before playoffs."

You regarded her for a moment, deciding to let it slide. She was right, and if Jake was going to help her, you knew she'd do okay on her test.

"Okay, fine," you agreed. " But go to the bathroom. You don't know how long you'll be on the bike for."

Sadie blew a raspberry at you before climbing off the bar stool and skipping down the hall.

You were washing a wine glass at the sink, your back somewhat facing the front of the bar, when you heard someone ring the barbell. You turned to face the person, reaching for Sadie's helmet as you said, "Sorry, that bell is not for..."

But a shrill gasp replaced the end of your sentence, and a sharp chill shot down your spine. You reflectively took a few steps back at the person standing before you.

Tyler Hillman hardly changed since he walked out on your sister that night.

It was obvious Sadie took after Ridley in almost every aspect. While Sadie had Tyler's blonde hair, she looked nothing like him. Whereas he was all sharp features and a pointed nose, Sadie had inherited the dimples you and Ridley were known for.

His stare still made you uncomfortable - not the same way you felt when some of the newer pilots leered at you while you worked. It was the type that made you feel as if he was looking right through you. He still puffed out his chest and stood in a way that now reminded you of Cyclone. And he had an expectant look, despite not saying a word. Like you should already know exactly what he wanted.

Even the lack of a smile, regardless of if it would have freaked you out, was unnerving.

"Tyler..." you stuttered, failing to keep the fear from your voice. "What are you doing here?'

"Cut the crap, Elizabeth," his tone was short. "I know you aren't exactly pleased to see me."

"And you can't imagine why?" you gritted behind your teeth. Your hand holding Sadie's helmet slowly travelled behind your back while Tyler laughed to himself, remarking, "I believe the last words you ever said to me were, 'If you hurt my sister ever again, I will personally shove your balls down your throat.' And you were still a teenager."

Although you were utterly terrified, taking in the fact that one of your worst nightmares had come true, you managed to spit out, "And I'll still do it, you asshole."

He ignored you. "Let me cut to the chase," he said, smiling at you sinisterly. "You have something that belongs to me. I want it back."

His eyes dropped down to the helmet, and you knew, without a doubt, his sole intention in walking into the bar was to take Sadie.

"As if I'd ever give her over to you."

Tyler tutted, shaking his head. "You know, you're making my job here ten times harder. Wouldn't it be so much better for us both if you just handed her over to me? So, you and that glorified pilot could start your own family."

You drew in a sharp breath at the mention of Jake. It confirmed every thought you ever had about being followed, every stupid fucking encounter you've ever had with that white car playing in your head like a movie. The spoiler should have been a dead giveaway; Tyler beefed up his cars with his parent’s money like a spoiled teenager.

"Though," he added, looking down at his hands before staring back at you. "I wouldn't be surprised if that hasn't happened already, the way you two practically fucked up against that truck on the fairgrounds."

Bile rose in your throat. He saw the two of you at the fair, and you suddenly realized he was probably the person who bumped into you. You tried to hide the quiver in your voice as you admitted quietly, "You were stalking me."

Tyler shrugged. "I like to think of it as a little insurance. Knowing what I have to put up with."

You hated that you were forcing yourself to speak with him, that walking on eggshells with your responses would be better than giving him the reaction you knew he desperately wanted. A reaction you would have no problem giving had you not known better.

But deep down, you were screaming. Screaming for Sadie to stay hidden in the bathroom. Screaming for Pete to hurry up so you wouldn't be alone. For Jake to arrive earlier to come to get you. So, you didn't have to keep distracting him so you could stall for time.

You knew Tyler. He'd stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Because there was no way you weren't getting out of this without some sort of fight.

The words slipped out of your mouth, "You're insane."

Tyler whipped his hand across the bar, knocking a few empty glasses off the surface and sending them crashing to the floor. You flinched, your grasp on Sadie's helmet becoming tighter as he reached out to grab the backs of the farthest bar chairs.

"No, you know what's insane?" he shouted at you. "My father cares more about his political career and reputation than anything else."

This was the Tyler you knew him to be. The rich kid persona, acting out if he didn't get his way.

"Go get the kid, Tyler," he rambled. "We can't have this staining our chances. So, what do I do but remind him he was the one who wanted the no responsibility cause."

Your hand holding Sadie's helmet twitched at him degrading your sister, fighting the urge to throw it at his head.

"So, what does he do but put in the review request," Tyler's knuckles whitened on the chair as he shook his head. "Asshole didn't listen to me when I told him your sister had it locked down, 'ironclad.'"

Those were the exact words the clerk had told you the day Jake picked Sadie up from school. And then the letter flashed in your mind, Tyler's written words reciting themselves in your head.

"You tried to convince her," you said out loud. "Your letter, you wanted her to drop it."

"Oh, find that did you?" he smirked, pleased with himself. "I'll admit, it wasn't the best idea. But at least it got her to meet up with me."

"Meet up with you?!" You said in disbelief. "She'd never put herself in that situation, not what you did to her."

He lazily spun one of the barstools around before picking up a toothpick from the bowl on the bar. He threw the piece of paper it was in onto the ground, working the piece of wood through his fingers. "She was a nuisance, that one. Never did what I asked her to. Ungrateful, really."

Taking the toothpick with his other hand, he brought it up to his mouth, working it around his bottom teeth before biting down. You made a mental note to ask Jake not to use them anymore at the action.

"Despite what you think, she did meet me. Out at a coffee shop before dark, just before a freak storm."

Like a cigarette, Tyler pulled the stick out of his mouth, snapping it in two and tossing the broken pieces onto the top of the bar. "Told me I was the biggest fucking regret of her life, apart from being nothing short of a sperm donor."

You jolted as he tore the chairs backwards. They struck the floor with an intense bang. "Me, of all things, a sperm donor?!"

You caught the clock behind his head, refusing to look at him while he spurred off on everything Ridley said to him during that chat. How she humiliated him. How she listed off all the reasons why she'd never help him, never let Sadie anywhere near him.

Part of you understood why she did it. It was everything she couldn't say to your father, her one regret of taking you and leaving as the both of you did. Time and time again, she told you she wished she could convey just how much he had hurt the two of you, how much he had hurt your mother with his actions, while he lay in some comatose state so he'd be forced to listen to everything, without a chance of getting a word in.

Tyler was that chance.

Fixing your eyes on the smaller hand, you watched as it ticked away, each second a blessing, knowing somebody was just that closer to walking through those doors - even if you felt like a princess who needed rescuing. You prayed Sadie was still in the bathroom, the noise making her lock herself up in a stall.

That was until his following words made you look at him in shock.

"Though I'll admit after that, it was pretty easy leaving her on the side of that road," he remarked nonchalantly. "That tree practically came out of know where."

His words didn't register right away. At first, you thought he was trying to rile you up, mentioning your sister's death to upset and hurt you because you weren't giving in to what he wanted.

But then, the way in which he described leaving her. The way he described the tree. You knew.

It was never the storm that caused Ridley to crash.

You wanted to scream at him for what he'd done, but you stood there silently instead. Your mouth hung slightly open in disbelief as tears filled your eyes and ran down your cheeks.

"You bastard," you gasped.

He looked at you with a sickening smirk, taking pleasure in what he had done without feeling remorse for Ridley's death or your pain, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"That was one problem taken care of. But then I forgot about you. Should have known she'd have you take the kid should anything happen to her."

Tears streamed down your face as you gripped the side of your forearm. It was one thing to think Ridley's death had been an accident. It was another to know it hadn't. And Tyler raised his eyebrows, pleased with your reaction.

"You, I think, will be much easier to deal with."

A small gasp could be heard from the hallway to the bathroom. You saw the shift in his eyes, a quick side glance, indicating he saw Sadie hiding behind the corner. And despite everything you felt, you knew he would stop at nothing to get to her.

"Sadie! Run!" you shouted.

She panickily turned towards the back doors with a sharp gasp, sprinting towards the beach. You stepped forward and swung your arm up, Sadie's helmet still tight in your grasp. But Tyler was quicker, grabbing your wrist forcefully before you could hit him. You cried out as his nails bit into your skin, the helmet hitting the top of the bar, as you tried to pry his grip off your wrist.

Then he yanked you forward, hard. You wheezed as the counter's edge hit your stomach, and you doubled over the bar in pain. Struggling to breathe, you tried to force air into your lungs, a wave of panic surging through you as Tyler reached for the back of your head. Your hand came up in a weak attempt to stop him.

But it wasn't enough. Without warning, he slammed your face down into the surface of the bar.

Everything went black.

Fuzzy.

Mute.

You felt yourself being pushed backwards, falling to the floor like a sack of potatoes, the side of your face hitting something solid on the floor and making you cry out in pain. You instinctively cradled your face, your body curling inwards on itself.

It could have been minutes of you laying on the floor until you felt a hand wrench yours away from your face, dragging you over to the side of the bar. You fought and screamed for him to let you go. Then something cool was placed around your wrist. Tyler said something to you, but you couldn't make it out with the roar of blood rushing through your ears, eyes instinctively shut, whether your mind was protecting you or the pain was too much.

And then he was gone.

And your world went dark.

At first, you could only feel the coolness of the fridge against your arm, the biting edge of something encasing your wrist, a light breeze on your face, and the aches and pain underneath your skin.

Then it came to you, an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of panic throughout your body.

Sadie was in danger.

You opened your eyes.

The fucking asshole had handcuffed you to the mini-fridge. You blindly searched for something on top of the counter, random objects and glasses crashing to the floor as you struggled to find something you could use to free yourself.

But it was no use. There was nothing, not even a paper clip to wedge between the springs.

So, you tugged.

And tugged.

And pulled.

Each time more excruciating than the last, some blind hope urging you to believe if you put enough pressure behind your efforts - if you yanked hard enough - the metal would give way. And each scream would bring you one step closer to Sadie, despite your skin already turning blue.

The pain you could endure. Sadie needed you.

You had lost count of how many times you tried to free yourself, how many times the metal cut into your skin, but one attempt became too much. You hollered at the pain, the sharp feeling radiating down the joint of your arm, making you crumble.

There was no way you would get this thing off you.

It was hopeless.

"Liz?!"

Almost hopeless.

"Jake!" you screamed out through your tears. His boots pounded on the hardwood floor, and looking up over the top of the bar from the ground, you saw his head, eyes wild and frantic as he took in the state of the bar.

"Where are you!?" he yelled, stepping around the broken glass and upset chairs.

"Here!" you cried out, too weak to hide the pain or panic from your voice.

Jake sprinted around the bar, the swinging doors whacking either side of the counter as he approached you, trying to avoid the glass. You reached for him with your free hand, gripping his forearm tightly to confirm he was there with you. He kneeled next to you, grabbing the back of your neck, and firmly tilting your head to the side to take in the side of your face.

"Who the fuck did this to you?" he fumed, his face red as he focused on what you knew later to be a black eye. A vein on his forehead was sticking out as his nostrils flared. In any other instance, you would have feared him. But some small part of you knew you were safe.

You didn't answer him directly, instead crying out, "He went after Sadie."

Jake stiffened. "Who? Who has Sadie?"

"Tyler!" you sobbed. "You were right. He was behind everything."

He quickly scanned the inside of the bar for something heavy to free you with as you continued to bawl out, "His father put in the CPS request. He was the car. The one that night when you picked me up. At Sadie's school, at home. He was at the fair."

Jake looked back down at your face, shocked. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?!"

"I thought it was paranoia!" you exclaimed, thumping your head against the cupboard. Then in your bubbling mess, you cried out, "He killed Ridley."

Jake froze before pulling you to him, pressing your foreheads together as he fumed, "That fucker."

He let go of your face to reach up and grab your wrist, turning it to see the damage you had caused in your attempt to free yourself. Something changed in how he worked to free you - as if the news you had just given him were his commanding orders, and like a good soldier, he was following through.

Then the panic settled in your stomach once again. It wasn't you who needed help.

Sadie was in danger.

"Jake, you need to go find her. Please!"

He hooked his fingers between the metal and your skin, attempting to use sheer force and strength to pry the metal away. But you whimpered, crying out in pain as he pulled. You placed your hand on his arm to get him to stop.

"Jake, stop! You can't!"

He let out a frustrated cry, pulling away to place a hand on your neck once again. "I'm not leaving you here like this!"

But you shook your head frantically. "It's her before me. Always, Jake! Please!"

Jake didn't move. He was fighting with himself between trying to find something to free you with or leaving you like this so he could get to Sadie before Tyler did.

"Go!"

The firmness in your voice urged Jake to press a long, hard kiss to your cheek, just below your bruise, his hands holding either side of your jaw tight before he forced himself to leave you. Standing up, he pushed himself out of the bar, taking off in a full sprint out the back door after Tyler.

You were alone again, still chained, still lying amongst the broken glass trapped by the counter walls. You were left to grapple with the understanding your sister didn't die in an accident, that she was murdered, that Tyler ran her off the fucking road and left her to die. And now, he was after Sadie. He might as well have ripped your heart out and thrown it amongst the broken glass.

Sadie deserved so much better than you. And knowing your voice would go unheard, you wailed to the ceiling with the belief you were a complete and utter failure as her guardian.

It was a few minutes before Mav found you. You cried out for him as he called out your name. He peered at you from over the bar, you exclaiming you were handcuffed. He ran to Penny's office, coming back with a pair of heavy shears. As he worked to free you, you told him what happened. Once he released you, he led you to a chair, telling you to stay put before going to the back door.

"Call the police!" he called over his shoulder. "I'm going to go find Hangman."

___

The first time Jake ever got into a fistfight was in seventh grade.

A kid named Carter had made an insensitive joke about Janet, how he needed his sister, a girl no less, to fight his battles for him. Jake had swung without realizing he had. He had acted on instinct. He hadn't thought about the consequences.

And even as he sat in the Principal’s office afterwards, holding an ice bag to his cheek, his Ma sitting next to him as the principal ratted on him, he didn't care. Even when he came home, his brother George stared at him from the front step, shaking his head; he didn't care. Or when his father moved his room to the barn hayloft as a form of punishment, Jake stood his ground.

He had accepted his fate, whatever it would be. It was a small price to pay - nobody would say anything bad about his sister if he had any control over the matter.

But there would be consequences if he failed here. Sadie being taken away from you, him, and the Squad wasn't an option in any regard.

A faint scream in the distance guided Jake in the direction he needed to go, further down the south side to where the beach curved and a pile of rocks cut off the sand. Sprinting along the shore, he saw Sadie had been caught, dragged by her wrist in the sand as she screamed. She was fighting, arms flailing as she repeatedly hit Tyler in some desperate attempt to get him to let her go.

Sadie knew what was happening when she heard the glass breaking in Aunt Penny's bar. She knew what her birth father looked like; her mom had shown her countless pictures, always telling her if she saw this man, she needed to hide or run like hell.

She never questioned her mom on the why. She had heard enough eavesdropping on conversations to know he was an evil man.

When she was caught, she thrashed against him, calling out for anyone to help her. But the beach was empty, and he wasn't listening to her. She dug her heels into the sand, pulling against him and turning her wrist in his hand before she saw her Uncle Jake running towards them. His fist was clenched into a ball, and with each second he got closer, he raised it higher. Catching on to what he was about to do, Sadie dropped to her knees.

"Tyler!" Jake shouted at a full sprint.

The man didn't expect someone to shout his name, even as Sadie repeatedly started punching at his leg. The minute he turned, Jake didn't hesitate, his knuckles hitting the flesh of Tyler's cheek hard. The man crumpled to the ground, clutching his face as he groaned.

Jake slid on one knee across the sand, having lost his balance as he came to a halt. Sadie instantly ran to him, looping her arms around his neck as she cried. He held her tightly, feeling her body shake with her sobs.

But Tyler wasn't finished. There was no way this army nut would stand between him and his trust fund. The sight of Sadie clinging to Jake urged him to stand, anger sharpening his resolve.

Jake stood, pushing Sadie behind him. She tried to make herself as small as possible, gripping the denim of his jeans tightly between her fingers and hiding her face in the back of his leg.

Tyler stepped to the left, Jake to the right. The two men circled each other, Sadie moving with her uncle as they waited for the other to make a move.

"This isn't your fight, Navy Boy!"

Jake cocked his head. "Really? My girl was handcuffed and left broken on the floor. You going after her niece. I'd say this is my fight."

Tyler laughed to himself. "It's not my fault you left her all chained up."

"This can go two ways here, Tyler," Jake explained, reaching around to place a comforting hand on Sadie's shoulder when she whimpered at the mention of you. "Either you back up and run back home to god knows where. Or you take another step, and I'll show you exactly what we do to men who treat women and children like you do back home."

"I'd like to see you try."

Jake's voice was stern as he replied, "Your choice. "

Tyler stared at Jake briefly before nodding at his words, turning sideways as if he was about to leave. But then, in a blink of an eye, Tyler lunged. Sadie gasped, jumping to the side as Jake pushed her out of harm's way. The two men grappled in the sand, Jake trying to gain the upper hand without hitting him, too focused on trying to escape his hold.

Sadie landed on her hands. Sand had been thrown into her face as she tried to dodge a nearby rock. Coughing, she turned onto her back, rubbing her eyes at the grains of sand scattered across her face before opening them to a horrifying sight.

Her Uncle Jake was pinned, Tyler raining blow after blow into his arms, protecting his face as he tried to find a way out from under him. Jake refused to throw another punch in front of Sadie, your voice echoing in his head - the longstanding promise you had vowed never to let her experience any trauma. He wouldn't add more to what he knew would be another one of her nightmares.

Sadie could only watch in horror, her heart pounding in her chest, as her uncle tried to deflect Tyler's blows. She felt helpless and scared. She wanted nothing more than for this to be over, weeping as she stumbled while attempting to stand, looking for a way to help her uncle. He was in this mess because of her… because she got caught.

"Uncle Jake!" she screamed, taking a hesitant step forward. But Jake turned his head in the sand, shouting towards her, "Get out of here, Sadie!"

Tyler landed an uppercut to his jaw, Jake's teeth clamping down hard on his bottom lip with force as his arms lost their stance, giving Tyler the ultimate opportunity to land a devastating blow.

But as he was setting himself up, it left his head exposed. Sadie saw this, realizing she might lose her Uncle Jake if she didn't do something now. Ignoring what he said, she charged forward at a run, imagining she was kicking a soccer ball at one of her games. She swung her leg forward, forcing every ounce of power into her strike for Tyler's head.

But he saw her coming out of the corner of his eye, his hand grabbing her ankle, easily tossing her backwards. Sadie screamed, her arms flying out as she fell back, landing with a sickening crunch. She was too close to the collection of rocks along the end of the beach, and Jake watched her fall as if the world was suddenly in slow motion. The second Sadie fell, she hit the back of her head on a rock.

And she didn't get up.

Tyler paused in his efforts as both watched her body limply roll to the side. "Uh, that would have been easier to deal with."

Jake saw red.

In a momentary burst of adrenaline, fueled only by rage, Jake let his hand fly, no longer bound to hold his punches for fear of Sadie being mentally scarred. Tyler fell, and Jake used the momentum to land blow after blow to his face, never stopping or hesitating for a second.

And like that day in seventh grade, when he landed that first punch when Carter threatened his sister, Jake didn't think.

He had hurt Sadie.

He had hurt you.

He had murdered your sister.

Nothing else mattered.

"Hangman!"

Jake looked up from Tyler's face to see Maverick running down the beach. Unfortunately, the distraction was enough for Tyler to knock Jake back to the ground with a knee to his stomach. Jake collapsed with a groan, and Tyler climbed back on top of him again, hand raised to throw another punch. But Mav was quicker, tackling him off Jake with a heavy push.

Tyler rolled away from the two pilots, spitting blood into the sand. He could not take her now when he had two other people to contend with. There would be fewer opportunities now to get the kid. But a few calls to his father's office could put any 'repercussions' of this little misunderstanding to rest.

He quickly stood, running off down the beach toward his car. Maverick started to go after him before Jake yelled for him to stop.

"Let him go!" he panted out, forcing himself to stand and spitting out, "Sadie's hurt."

When he got to Sadie, Jake reached down to cradle the back of her head, only to be met with warm liquid collecting in the palm of his hand. "Shit, Sadie? Bug, open your eyes for me."

But she didn't. She barely moved despite the slight movement of her chest. Mav slid to the ground beside him, a hand coming out to hold Sadie's cheek.

"Bug, don't do this," Mav called to her, hoping his voice would do something. But when Jake pulled his hand back, Pete rocked back on his heels, horrified at the sight.

"Call an ambulance," Jake commanded, hooking his arm under her legs, tilting her body upright so he could place his hand on the back of her head. "Tell them to meet us in the parking lot of the Hard Deck."

Mav stumbled to stand up before taking off in a sprint down the beach, phone in hand. And as Jake stood, cradling Sadie into his chest, he felt petrified.

"I picked you too, you know," he said through gritted teeth as he carried her back to the Hard Deck, trekking through the sand with effort. "You and your aunt are a package deal. You need to be okay, Sadie. Why give me the chance to be your uncle if you're not here for me to do it?"

The longer Jake walked with no word from Sadie, the quicker he set his pace, carefully keeping her stable and his hand firmly against her head. And as he approached you and Maverick, he pleaded with her one final time.

"Please, Bug. Don't do this. Not because of me."

---

Jimmy found you pacing the back deck, tears streaming down your face as you cradled your bruised wrist to your chest. You had no idea which way they went or what direction Jake had taken off when he left you. All you could think about was Sadie and if he got to her in time.

He was gone, waiting for the police outside. But then you spied Mav, almost running back to the Hard Deck while speaking into his phone. He looked worried as you shot off the step, almost tripping to get to him. And when he hung up his phone, he reached for you.

"Mav, what happened?!" you cried out. "Where is she? Where's Jake?"

Mav gripped your forearms, trying to steady you as you stumbled back and forth on the spot. "Elizabeth, you need to listen to me."

"Mav, where is she?!" you tried again through your tears. "Tell me!"

He reached up to grasp your cheeks, holding you still as he finally managed to answer, "It's Sadie, Elizabeth."

"What?" a quiet plea on your lips.

Pete dropped his hands and opened his mouth to speak again but stopped. Staring at his face, you saw him focus on something behind you, making him swallow hard.

Following his line of sight, you turned. Time froze as your heart thudded painfully in your chest, white pain flooding every single vein in your body as you saw Jake approach you.

Somewhere in your mind, you registered he was hurt, with bruises covering his face, and his bottom lip was split. You should have known he would have made it his mission to get to Sadie in time, no matter the cost. But you wouldn't have noticed anyway.

Sadie was limp in Jake's arms. Your legs finally gave out as you sank your knees into the sand, a heart-wrenching cry tearing its way up your throat as your question of what happened was answered.

The blood matting the back of her head and through Jake's fingers told you all you needed to know. 

Tags:

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@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

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@keyrani

Part 12: Blue Healer Coming Soon

Wickett

[straightupsickfics]

⛈ and 🤕 (thunderstorm and headache) for Ed bb?

ahhhh this is so cute, and i'm going to do it for the "let me help" square on my ofmd bingo card <3

****

Stede yelps as he walks into his captain's quarters into almost complete darkness, sending a pile of books crashing to the floor.

"Good lord, what on earth—"

A low groan stops Stede in his tracks before he can finish his question, and he turns toward the sound, emanating from the couch.

"Who's there... Ed? Is that you?" Stede calls, his voice just a measure softer than it had been before.

"Mhh?" Another half-hearted groan has Stede picking his way carefully across the room, following the sound, which, he now knows, is definitely coming from Ed.

"Are you alright? Why's it so dark, it's midday!" Granted there was a storm coming soon, but even so.

"Head...fuckin' hurts," Ed mutters.

"Oh. Oh. I'm sorry, and here I am making a mess and a fuss," Stede says quietly. By now he's reached Ed, laying prone on his couch, his face pale and his long hair pulled back and away from his face. He gives Stede a pained little look, which sends Stede's stomach into a nervous flutter. That happens sometimes, usually when Ed looked at him a certain way, or laughed loudly at something he said, or complimented him or —

Well, it's been happening a great deal more since Ed had joined The Revenge, that's for sure.

Now, though, Ed looks utterly miserable, eyes just barely open and peering up at Stede through the dark of the room.

"I wondered where you'd gotten to... Everyone's in a tizzy up there, I came to see if something was wrong."

"Weather fucks with my head I think," Ed sighs.

"You head?" Stede repeats, "not just your knee?"

Ed grimaces at this. "Both, m'lucky that way," he says.

Stede frowns. Ed can't be comfortable on the small couch, curled up the way he is, head resting on the hard arm of the chair.

"Here, why don't you let me help," Stede says before he can stop himself or really think it through.

Ed squints at him. "Nothin' t'do," he says, though his eyes linger on Stede a beat longer than necessary, a bit of hope shining through them, and Stede's choice is solidified.

"We can get you into bed, for one thing," Stede says. "Softer, and you'll be able to stretch out some. Your head and your knee will thank you," he says. "And I could have someone fetch a cold washcloth? Keep you company? Or, of course if you'd rather not have me blathering on I could leave you to—"

"No," Ed says quickly. "That sounds... good," he adds carefully.

Smiling a little and feeling a bit more encouraged, Stede helps Ed to his feet and over to the bed, helping him ease onto it.

"Should we... That is... D'you want to take this off?" Stede asks, gesturing to the brace at Ed's knee.

Ed sighs. "Hurts my head too much to bend down that way," he admits. "Tried it earlier."

"Well, that won't do," Stede agrees, bending down himself and undoing the clasps holding it in place, then holding it up, triumphant. "Ah, here we go. Better?"

But Ed's already sighing in relief, stretching out his knee and curling up into the soft, plush fabric of Stede's bed, and he decides to take that as a yes.

"Does this happen very often?" Stede asks once he's settled. He's not sure what to do now, surely he should find a damp cloth for him, be productive somewhere else before the storm rolls in in full, but...

"Depends on the weather, really. How much I drink," Ed rolls his eyes. "Million things really. This is the first in a while. Forgot how fucking unpleasant it is," he admits.

They're quiet for a moment, and Stede hears a distant rumble of thunder, somewhere further out but definitely growing closer.

"Well then," Stede says, "I should probably go see about, ah..."

Before Stede can finish the thought, though, Ed's hand curls around his wrist, soft but firm, and holding him in place.

"Y'could stay, if y'want," Ed says quickly. "Wouldn't mind the company. Just don't tell Iz, he always gets kicked out and he'll be pissy."

Stede grins, trying not to feel gleeful at that particular admission.

Ed's hand tugs him closer as he yawns hugely, finally relaxing, and Stede finds himself slipping onto the bed beside him, his hand working its way into Ed's hair and stroking carefully.

It should be strange, shouldn't it? Having someone else — a man, no less – in his bed, but it isn't. Not when that person is Ed, especially when he's in pain.

Somewhere, there's another rumble of thunder, and Stede definitely hears the soft patter of rain above them, but beside him, Ed gives a little sigh of relief, and curls himself in just that much closer to Stede.

[shameless-girl]

Love like yours- kayce Dutton

Summary: kayce and violet use to be together when she first came to work on the ranch but he left her for Monica. When he comes back feelings come back but she still hates what he did . In the end her picks her over Monica

It has been 10 years since kayce left , he got married and had a son but now he was back . Violet ducked behind rip and Lee ..trying to avoid being seen " what the fuck is he doing here " she whispered to rip as they hid her " last time I heard .. he wasn't allowed here " rip informed her ,before she could say anything " he's coming this way... run " lee cut her of sending violet into a run towards the back of the barn . Of course kayce had seen her and went the opposite way to cut her off " where you running off to " he said as she nearly ran into him " anywhere but here " she snapped turning to walk the other way " I just wanted to say hi " he called after her , she stopped and turned to him " you what to say hi ... are you fuckin kidding me , you had 10 years to that kayce and you never once did " she screamed back , this had caught the attention of everyone else . Lee came up beside violet reading to grab her if needed " you can fuck yourself kayce Dutton " she finished before walking away

Watching her walk away John stood beside kayce " shit ,you got alot to learn about women " he told his son he looked shocked by what had just happened

A few days later kayce watched violet walking a mare , tate had gone up to violet and introduced himself. Of course she wouldn't take out her problems with kayce out on his son " can I ride her " tate asked violet as he walked beside her , violet stopped and thought for a second but agreed. She helped tate up into the saddle before she started walking the horse along . He still loved her ,he had admitted to Beth the other night

Kayce stood watching how his son smile at the women that the blonde women , kayce turned his head when he approached foot steps of his wife " why is she with our son " Monica questioned with an angry tone " he wanted to go over " kayce answered truthfully trying to avoid an argument but Monica didn't care if everyone could here them " I don't want her here " she snapped at kayce with her eyes burning onto violets form when the blonde helped tate off the horse " it's her home , Monica you can't pick who can be here " he stood up for violet but it passed of his wife more .. Monica was now yelling grabbing the attention of tate and violet " go see rip ,I'll see what's going on with them " violet told tate after the boy looked worried but he did as he was told . Violet walked towards the pair arguing, at this point she didn't like Monica for starting while tate could see them and everyone knew violet would speak her mind " I think you probably should take this in side kace " she spoke coming to stand near her ex boyfriend ,hearing the nickname made kayce's heart flutter " keep out of it and leave my family alone " Monica snapped at the taller women trying to get her to leave but it didn't work . Violet just smiled and touched kayces hand just to wind Monica up even more , he knew she was just doing it to get at his wife but it still brought the feelings back even more " come on kace , you can give me a hand with the horse's " violet pulled him along with her leaving Monica standing there with an angry look . She had heard every word between kayce and Beth the other night

Kayce and violet didn't speak for the rest of the day unless it was about work until he had enough " look vi ,I'm sorry ... I shouldn't have left you " he told her making violet look up " yeah ,you shouldn't have " she replied looking at her feet " I made a mistake... I love my son but I don't love Monica as much as I thought, when I saw you again it brought back feelings... I never stopped loving you " kayce admitted putting his hands on the sides of violets face " I want you " he finished as he lent his forehead on hers " I can't give you anything while your still married to Monica " violet whispered relaxing into his touch , he wished they could stay like this forever but he had a devoice to fill for

That night when tate was asleep ,kayce had seen the opportunity to talk with Monica " I was thinking today , we aren't working... I love tate and I did love you but we aren't what each other needs " he admitted watching Monica's smile fade " you love her don't you " she asked with her head down , she knew this was going to come one day . Kayce and herself had fallen out of love for a while now, truth is she had meet someone else to " I will sign the divorce papers when they come and I will leave, tate will still come here but you can't blame me when I move on " Monica signed knowing nothing they did would fix their marriage so she had to except, with that Monica and kayce went their separate ways .

Kayce had told violet he had ended the marriage, violet and kayce married a year later when they found out they going to have a baby . Tate loved having violet as a step mum .

Monica got married 6 months after she signed the divorce papers

[muffindaddystyles]

LOVE ME, WRESTLE ME.

Boyfriendrry blurb of some smutty and fluffy thought.

Taking online classes, resting, doing assignments, then spending some time with Harry and watching a movie at night that always ends up in a good fuck isn't boring but it's insipid.

The cooe of rain outside's soothing and tranquil enough to fill in already comfortable silence between you people, your lips murmuring around the instinctive words from the scrabby page of the Oscar Wilde's; The selfish giant. Your knees are hiked up sitting in the love seat opposite to where Harry's sitting on the messy-ly made bed since you both were feeling a tad lazy and in mood to procrastinate house chores.

You're constantly loosing your focus, because you're terribly horny at the moment and Harry in a baggy yellow pawy sweater spread on his tummy over the bed doing nothing but staring at you like he'd swallow you whole isn't helping at all with the ache between your thighs.

So, you do what was needed to be done.

His eyes follows your commotion as you leave your spot kneeing up on the edge of bed, your crotch against his face and you look down at him with a witty smirk.

"Wrestle me." Your voice challenging. You arch your brow with profound irritation when he intentionally dismisses you off by rumbling his lips to blow away the curls falling over his dooey eyes.

"Pardon?" He creates a noise, within a click of his tongue or his hand against your bare thigh (fondling the soft skin he's obsessed with) that dries your throat with hunger. He heard it right. There was no wavering in what you invited him for.

You guys have this game where he has to make you cum within two minutes and you've to wrestle him off, if you loose and cum you've to keep him warm and sloppy in your mouth until it turns into a nice blowie so it's a win win either way.

You fail every time. Most of it is very obvious.

But, right now he's trying to rile your nerves up by acting like an utterly supine cow.

"Hmm?" The questioning hum turns into a giggly squeal when he grabs your ankle and throws you onto the mattress like a rag doll, "S' fuckin' insatiable all the time ..." He growls towering above you, pushing your thighs apart with a tight grip to your soft fleshy insides that makes you hiss. A laugh pits up in your belly from the thrill of shutting them back and fighting him off to piss him further.

Ofcourse him being stronger than you fails you to do so and a loud moan bubbles around you when he licks his palm till the tips of his fingers and smacks your already soaking centre harshly.

"Fuck." You mewl softly sinking into sheets when he yanks your shorts down leaving you in nothing but his large hoodie, your pussy lips flutter from the heated sensation of your stickiness coming in contact with the sting of his chilly rings.

He pins your wrist atop your head and fits himself between your wide opened legs grinding his hard (trouser clad) prick against your heating centre in vigorous rubs, leaving a burn with every stroke and making you loose your stance with the growing desire to have his fingers inside you.

"C'mon fight me now." He grits. Glowering down at you sternly and your tummy coils against his's pelvis with each nasty roll of his hips, you gasp around a sob when he nips at the soft skin of your jaw. He wants you to surrender yourself to him but your ego's more than that so with a trick of pulling at his hair you flip him on his back and crawl up to straddle his torso jerking his shoulder down.

"Aha!" You grin in a victory. His brows pinches down furiously and before you know his calloused hand came spanking your butt-cheek making your face smash into the crook of his neck with an unexpected vulgar series of moans, "Bratty little fuck doll." He grunts landing another spank right where the first one left crimson imprints, again and again till you're a squirming crying mess.

He slides his two fingers down your puckering rim to where you're dripping with wetness and teases your entrance by never dipping them in till the end but rather stroking the spongy wall of your soppy cunt.

You squeal when he flips you on your tummy and leans all his weight over your back to glide his hand between the compact space of their bottoms, he patches breathy kisses to the side of your neck leaving love marks, sliding in his fingers deep inside that when you feel a certain crack resonating to your ears and shooting pain till your toes making them jelly.

You're fucked.

It all happened from your arm placed at the weird angle while he had your hips in air.

"Harry, I think. I might've broken my wrist." You stammer in a calm voice though, barely able to speak when the pang in your joint's inflaming like a wildfire along with the pleasure that's subsiding into an akward spasmy feeling as you pulsates around his fingers.

"Sucha bullshit excuse to mice outta yer defeat." He rasps to you smugly. Your face scrunches up in pain and your head falls into the throw pillow.

"No . ." You shake your head quickly gulping down the thick tears down your throat and when his head clears out from the fog of lust, noticing the weakness in your words he immediately pulls his digits out, "Holy ... Fuck." You try to stay placid knowing his insides are ticking in panic and is about to explode in one, two and —

"Baby -– how — how are y'so calm? Is it hurting? Show me." The shift in his demeanor is adorable as minutes ago he was about to rail you to unconsciousness and now he's the softest cutest caring boyfriend.

Tears prickles at your waterline when he presses his thumb into your wrist bone ever so diligently and it jolts severe pain up your arm.

"I think it's, 'm so so sorry baby. We should go to hospital. Stay here, yeah?" He tells you cupping your cheeks worriedly and rushes to fetch a wet rag when you nod through a sniff and wobbly lips.

He cleans you off, shushing you with tender kisses to your ankles when the throb got overwhelming. Helps you wearing your jeans and shoes being careful not to hurt your wrist any further in doing so.

"It's okay, you're okay lovie —- if the pain's too much —--- dunno we should probably run to hospital." He's out of breath snatching the keys and his coat taking glances of you after every second to make sure you're okay, more like assuring himself, "Bub it wasn't your fault. It was an accident, I can endure a lil bit pain." Through the whole call ride he was jittery and twitchy waiting for to reach the clinic speedily.

He has you embraced by his side with a careful support of his palm under your wrist so it wouldn't dangle that much as he walks you inside.

The doctor sitting infront of you two stares at the way you both are flushed, rosy cheeks, ruffled hair and sheened skin radiating 'we were in the middle of having great sex.' But, she chooses not to speak as you shrink to Harry's side timidly from the embarrassment and shyness.

Harry just passes you a nervous smile squeezing your shoulder to cheer you up and nudges you when the doctor asks the ever awaiting question.

"So . . . How did it happen?"

"Cupboard —-" You speak.

"She fell of —-" And he speaks at the same time.

You look at eachother with wide shocked eyes but then he clear his throat allowing you to speak, "I was putting some dishes up in the cupboard when I lost my footing and knocked my wrist against it." The doctor surely didn't give into your guys shit. Nodding along to your made up story.

You guys feel exposed when the doctor spoke inspecting Y/N wrist, "The injury caused from the pressure of weight, splinting the bone away and tearing the muscle too ... nothing that wouldn't heal in two weeks. You'll be good with an arm cast and these pain killers."

When you step out into the waiting corridor it feels like your secret has been revealed to every single person sitting there and you pull the strings of your hoodie to cover your face and Harry chuckles kissing your head at your silliness.

Once in the privacy of car he speaks looking at your cast properly, "One thing fo' sure that game isn't made fo' us -- you're too delicate to play it just fo' fun and thrill. Next, time just ask me to fuck you baby and I'll surely do it happily." He sighs a puff of breath kissing your cast and patting it lightly jerking back in horror when you yelp.

"Ouch!" He takes your jaw to kiss your lips upon seeing you grinning at your own misheviousness.

"Ye' batty little creature, stop messin' with your poor boyfriend!" He grumps cheekily at your playfullness.

"'M sorry, daddy will you take care of me?" You blink sickly coy through your lashes. Pouting up at him innocently and he shakes his head bopping your nose.

"You just wait and watch." He kisses the side of your head while reversing the car.

"How about we start from drawing dicks on ye' cast, hmm? How bout that?" He smirks and you gasp surprised at his antics.

"Harry!" The car fills up with laughter and giggles until he takes a rough turn.

"You better drive safe else 'm walking home!"

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

warnings: brief and indirect mentions of abuse/trauma

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

-

[A/N:] this is a repost of chapter 1 because my masterlist is being fucky

[rizubaby]

Dinner and Dessert | Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.

genre ; nsfw oneshot.

request ; nsfw Fuyuhiko x fem!reader oneshot.

summary ; After being away for a couple days for some important business deals, you return home to find your boyfriend Fuyuhiko in a state you certainly didn't expect.

tags ; fem!reader, boyfriend experience, oral sex, L-bombs, (slight) breeding, mentions of marriage, vulgar language.

wc ; 2,7k.

note ; I had a lot of creative freedom with this one, since there weren't any specific things I had to incorporate. I really wanted to explore the softer and more romantic side of him in this oneshot, so there you go lol. Don't worry though, if this is not your style, I got some NSFW headcanons for Fuyuhiko planned for later ;)

This is an 18+ post. Minors dni.

"Fuyuhiko? Where are you?"

Your voice echoed throughout your empty living room as you entered your shared appartment. You had been away for a business trip for a couple days, whilst your loving boyfriend Fuyuhiko stayed home. You were so excited to see him again, I mean, who wouldn't be? Being away from your significant other for only a couple days can often feel like weeks, and it most definitely felt that way for the two of you, too.

"Fuyuhikooo? honey?" you called out again, a hint of worry and confusion now present in your voice.

No response. Huh, that's weird. You had texted him that you'd be home in about fifteen minutes, and he replied saying that he'd be home to welcome you back. So why isn't he here?

You sighed and dropped your suitcase on the floor, taking your heels off as you were still wearing your formal work clothing. Your usual work clothing consisted of a nice formfitting black skirt, a silk white blouse and sleek black heels. It all accentuated your features and curves perfectly, yet you always felt like all your colleagues were staring at you.

You neatly set your shoes aside and walked a couple steps further into the living room, scratching the back of your head as you glanced around the empty room. Suddenly, you noticed something red laying on the floor.

An immediate rush of panic washed over you and your body froze, as you had experienced this sort of thing countless times. With Fuyuhiko being in his line of work, it was almost commonplace for him to come home injured every now and then. After all, he never really stops working. Some wounds were worse than others, and so you feared something might've happened in those fifteen minutes before you arrived home. You slowly peered over to take a closer look, and...

...Is that a rose petal?

Just then, you hear the front door open behind you and you turn around in shock. It's Fuyuhiko, standing in the doorway with a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag from the local grocery store in the other.

"W-...What..?" you stutter, the rush of panic from a second ago having not completely gone away.

"Ah, shit," Fuyuhiko mumbles, as if caught red handed. You stare at him for a second and you see a faint blush appear on his face.

"Um, welcome back baby! Shit, haha... I thought I had just a little more time before you came home, and I uh... I wanted to surprise you," he rambled, the blush on his cheeks only appearing redder with every second he kept talking. "S-So I went to the store to get some things..."

Dumbfounded by what your boyfriend who was awkwardly standing in the doorway had just said, you felt your cheeks burn up in an instant as well. You weren't used to him being this... Romantic. You know he loves it when you shower him with love and affection, but you never expected him to return the favor, so to speak. I mean sure, he's told you countless times that he loves you, but never to this extent. Those days apart must've really done something to him...

Fuyuhiko stepped inside and awkwardly closed the door behind him, carefully placing his bag of groceries and the flower bouquet on the floor before rushing over towards you and hugging you tightly. You embraced him back and dug your face into his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you could finally relax, knowing you had nothing to worry about.

God, you were so happy to see him again.

"I love you, and I missed you," he spoke, his hands slowly moving down your back to rest on your hips. He moved his head and looked deeply into your eyes before pulling you into a passionate kiss. You could tell by the way he kissed that he really missed you, as his kisses were intense and sloppy. He started planting wet kisses along your neck and shoulders while still holding you in a tight embrace, pressing your body against his.

"You look so fuckin' pretty in that..." he remarked, one of his hands gliding further down to squeeze your ass. You gasped softly, finally realising how in need you were for his touch. "Fuck, I missed you so much.."

Even though it felt like you two were being pulled together like magnets, you eventually managed to pull away for a second to look into your feisty boyfriend's eyes once more. "W-What, um... what did you have planned for us..?" you asked, curious to know what was in the bag of groceries Fuyuhiko had brought with him. "The flowers are beautiful, by the way... Thank you," you smiled.

Slightly caught off guard by your sudden question, Fuyuhiko's grin quickly grew. "I uh... I wanted to prepare a nice dinner for us. I bought some expensive wine, too. And then maybe afterwards we could, y'know..."

He stopped there, because both of you knew exactly what he meant. You could tell he was holding back by not finishing his sentence. In reality, he wanted nothing more than to press you against the nearest wall and fuck your brains out. Those days apart seemed to never end, and he missed every inch of you. Your beautiful hair, your soft skin, those wonderful moans and whimpers you'd let out every time he was fucking you...

You smiled and turned around to take a closer look at where you spotted that rose petal earlier.

The sly bastard had made a whole fucking trail of rose petals leading to your bedroom.

"Hm, not a bad idea... but I've got an even better one." You said as you looked into his eyes, a feeling of pure love and arousal awakening inside you as you slowly made your way towards him.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Fuyuhiko asked, noticing the slight change in your demeanor. You gently grabbed his hands and placed them around your sides, stealing another kiss from his freckled lips. You brought your face closer to his ear and whispered something to him that immediately made him throw all his mental restrictions out the window.

"Let's skip dinner and go straight to dessert."

After saying that, you instantly felt Fuyuhiko's grip on you tighten, and you could've sworn you heard a soft growl escape his lips before he hungrily pressed his lips against yours once again. You stumbled backwards until you hit the wall next to your bedroom door with a loud thump, as his fingers quickly moved to unbutton your silk blouse. At that point, all you wanted was each other. No fancy dinner, no wine, no idle chit-chat... Just you and him, feeling each other's skin pressed against one another and never letting go again.

He wanted to feel every inch of you. He wanted to hear you moan out his name. He wanted you to leave scratches on his back and see your eyes roll back as you told him that you loved him. He wanted everything.

Being apart from you for only a couple days made him realise how much he actually cared for you. You had never really been apart for this long and it made him go crazy. Every day he would think about you and imagine all the things he'd do to you once you got back home. It almost physically hurt him, not being able to hold you in his arms as he laid awake in bed those nights. You always said you were his and that he was yours forever, but in that moment, he realised he wanted to make it official (in whatever way he saw fit).

In a matter of seconds, your white blouse and laced bra were thrown on the ground as you were both frantically trying to undress each other. Fuyuhiko wasted no time and hungrily started sucking on one breast, squeezing the other. You let out soft moans in response and wrapped one leg around his waist, trying to pull him even closer to you.

"M-Mmh... F-Fuyuhiko, please... I-I want to feel you," you mumbled, desperate for him to fuck you like he always did. He liked to tease, but you weren't in the mood for that this time. The need was high, and you couldn't wait for him to be inside you.

"Hold on baby, I want to taste you first..." he replied, letting go of the breast he was sucking on and kissing you everywhere whilst making his way down. He was on his knees and he carefully lifted up your formfitting skirt to expose your beautifully laced panties. He stared at them in awe for a second, the longing to taste you only growing more and more.

He gently but quickly pulled them down in one swift motion, exposing your wet pussy. You heard a soft grunt from between your legs and felt his warm hands hold a tight grip on your legs.

"Turn around for me, baby."

You did as he asked, now facing the wall with your hands supporting you as you leaned into it. His hands were exploring your backside and squeezing your ass, a feeling you didn't know you had missed this much until now. Feeling his breath against your inner thighs, you felt shivers going up your spine and a soft whimper escaped your lips.

As he couldn't possibly contain himself any longer, Fuyuhiko hungrily started lapping at your folds while stimulating your clit with his fingers. You let out a louder moan than you were expecting, but at this point neither of you cared. Fuck, he's so good at that. You felt your body start to tremble and your climax was already fast approaching, his tight grip on your thighs as he was eating you out making it even better.

"F-Fuyuhiko, fuck, I-I'm going to-" you said, feeling your mind blanking as you nearly tipped over. He heard you loud and clear and quickly started picking up his pace, hitting all the right spots with his skilled tongue. Before you knew it, you were shaking uncontrollably as your first orgasm of the day washed over you, incoherently babbling his name as you rode out your high.

"F-Fuck, Fuyuhi- Ah! F-Fu..."

As little beads of sweat started forming on your forehead and you panted heavily from your intense orgasm, Fuyuhiko quickly stood up and turned you around, immediately starting to kiss and plant hickeys on your neck.

"S/o, I fucking want you, right now," he whispered, his lustful tone giving you goosebumps all over. His profanity in the bedroom was so incredibly hot, you couldn't possibly begin to describe it.

As he got hold of you again, you quickly stumbled into your bedroom and fell onto your kingsized bed, never once breaking your passionate kiss. Once you were laying there, you looked around and noticed the flower petals scattered around the room and the lit candles on your bedside tables. A surprised giggle escaped you and Fuyuhiko grinned widely in response.

"You like it? I did this for you, baby..."

All you could do was nod, because no words could possibly describe this. You pulled him in for another kiss before he quickly got up and started undressing himself. The way he undid his tie was something that always turned you on for some reason. He just looked so manly, it made you crazy.

As he was busy undressing himself, you wasted no time in taking off the remainder of your clothing until you were both completely naked. He threw himself onto you and needily continued kissing you all over, leaving a trail of hickeys and faint bite marks all over your body. You couldn't wait any longer. You needed to feel him inside you.

"Fuyuhiko, please.. Please fuck me, I want you inside me," you pleaded, the desperation in your voice making him even harder than he already was.

Without another word, he pulled open your legs and positioned himself against your soaking entrance. God, that look he gave you made you melt instantly. You looked into each others eyes for a brief moment before he pushed himself into you, filling you up instantly. You let out a wanton moan in response to the feeling of finally having him inside you again, something you longed for ever since the first day you were apart. You grabbed hold of his arms and held on tight as he quickly started moving his hips, aroused moans and grunts filling the room.

"G-Goddammit, I missed you so fucking much... You feel so good baby, f-fuck..!"

Heavy panting, loud moans and profanity echoed throughout your apartment. Fuyuhiko was pounding into you at a godly speed, yet still managed to make every thrust sensual and loving. He was fairly average in length, but this man knew what he was doing. His pace and all the other things he would do made for such an amazing fucking that you'd never want anyone else.

"S/o, I-I love you, I love you so fucking much," he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he slowed his pace, putting more pressure behind every thrust which made you squirm and tremble from pleasure.

"I-I love you too baby."

He stopped gently nibbling on your neck and raised his head to look at you. A moment passed, his cheeks were bright red and his gaze felt like it was piercing right through you.

"S/o, W-Will you marry me?"

"W-What?!" you exclaimed, utterly perplexed by his sudden proposal. I mean, you were in the midst of having sex! But still... You felt like it seemed so right. In the time you had been apart it made everything fall into place. You were meant for each other. And somehow... This felt like the right time.

"Y-Yes, Yes! I will!" you smiled, pulling him into another loving kiss. He didn't need to say anything else, his reaction said everything you needed to know. He was ecstatic to have you as his bride. A huge smile appeared on his face, and that same smile quickly transformed into a lustful grin as he finally started bucking his hips again. A breathless moan escaped you, and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Fuyuhiko quickly picked up his pace again with his newfound excitement, and managed to throw your legs over his shoulders so he could pound into you even deeper than before. Your back arched and all you could bring out were incoherent moans and screams. You let your nails dig into his back and he let out a surprised yet aroused moan in response.

"S-S/o, I'm gonna cum soon... Fuck, p-please I want to cum inside you," he groaned, leaning forward to lustfully suck on your tits. "I want to make you mine."

For someone with such a babyface, he really knew what to say and what to do to push you over the edge. You felt the knot inside your stomach grow bigger with every thrust and you desperately nodded in agreement.

"Y-Yes baby, please, keep going- A-Ah!"

With his last few thrusts, you felt the knot inside you untangle and you moaned out his name in pure bliss, feeling his thick seed paint your walls. Your head shot back and your eyes closed as your mind drew blank, the high of your second orgasm almost being too much to handle.

His strained moans eventually died down as you felt the last drops of cum shoot out of him, collapsing on top of you and immediately planting kisses all over you again. He was so in love with you, it felt like he was on cloud nine. Hell, he even came inside you. He rarely does that, since he just loves the sight of you swallowing it or playing with it once he cums all over you. But not today. He wanted to make you his.

You laid there in silence for a moment to catch your breath, feeling the fog inside your mind slowly clear up. Once he pulled out, you could feel the mix of your juices slowly seep out of you, and it was such a satisfying feeling.

He plopped down next to you and you snuggled up against him, giving him a couple of small pecks on his cheek. Your fingers gently ran through his short blonde hair as you stared into each other's eyes. You were the happiest you could've ever been in that moment, and neither of you ever wanted it to end.

"So... how about that dinner I promised? I mean, we have something to celebrate after all."

[kurogane-redfox]

He wouldn't know about her inner thoughts, because they existed in her head and nowhere else. Perhaps he'd been in denial himself about their situation. It was POSSIBLE that he'd felt something for her without realizing it. Of course, his instincts were kind of cruel in a way, but that was beside the point. He was sort of drawn to her in some ways but he'd never thought about it once they started their agreement.

He wasn't good at EMOTIONS either. That was something they had in common. Well, hers were more repressed and his were more buried, but that wasn't too shocking given how they grew up. The way they grew up COULD also be something that led to the eventual development of FEELINGS but neither of them were likely to speak up about that.

He KNEW he was the first man to ever SHOW her what it was like for her to be SUBMISSIVE. He was likely the first MAN who genuinely got her off in more than ONE way too. He couldn't know if that was true or not since they tended to fuck and then he'd leave before she woke up. There was NO aftercare nothing that a REAL couple did. They'd showered together ONCE and he'd fucked her against the wall.

He really didn't WANT her to leave. He wanted her to STAY. Something that surprised even HIM though not likely as much as it surprised HER. They weren't a COUPLE. They weren't DATING, there was NO emotions involved in their agreement. Just raw, primal FUCKING. The thing about the Dragon was that he'd NEVER once looked at Minerva like she was a monster. Even when her DEMON came to the surface. She never seemed to get turned off by his DRAGON coming to the surface when they were together.

Romantic shit was stupid. Right?

Ruby eyes would focus on her as she GROANED. He'd heard it, of course he had, but that didn't really MATTER did it? Did it matter? He could tell that something DEEP was bothering her, was it linked to the emotions that she'd been feeling? He wasn't SURE and wouldn't be until she SAID something about them.

"Tch, if ya were fuckin' SCARED, Minerva, ya wouldn't be here outside my fuckin' house talkin' to me 'bout whatever the fuck is goin' on with ya,"

The idea she could get SCARED was odd to him. She didn't seem the sort to FEAR anything but then again, feelings were SCARY, right? There was that. He knew that all too well even if he never felt ANYTHING for anyone. At her admission that her NOT being good at whatever the hell 'this' was he wasn't surprised. Not at all. He didn't think he was GOOD at emotions either.

"Ya think I fuckin' know what this is? I don't I'm 'bout as clueless as ya are when it comes to this kinda shit, Minerva."

He knew she had Sting in her life now, someone who was essentially a beacon of positive energy. Someone he KNEW she could learn from if she spent enough time around him. He'd seen how she'd changed a bit since the games. Sure, he hated her for what she'd done back then, but he couldn't deny the fact that he'd wanted to FUCK her for a while.

Now though? Since being apart from her he'd realized that perhaps the kiss, had been his instincts had decided that he needed to REALIZE he cared for Minerva. CARED for her in a way that the Dragon hadn't realized was possible. He wasn't in tune with his emotions at all prior to the kiss CASCADING them down over him. Her asking him to leave that night and him doing so had been HARD for him. He'd LEFT because he told her that if she ever told him to go he'd DO so without question.

"Minerva it AIN'T fuckin' weakness to want somethin' to want... whatever the fuck is goin' on between us. Whoever told ya carin' for someone was weakness was WRONG."

He knew it took strength to LOVE someone but he couldn't say that it WAS what they felt or she felt, rather, but still. If she were WILLING he was too. He wasn't SURE how it'd WORK given they were from different guilds, but... their guilds were close enough they COULD be together as often as possible.

"Fuck vulnerability, Minerva. I want ya to be fuckin' honest and ya ARE bein' fuckin' honest."

He'd take a few steps closer to her. A hand would move to rest on her shoulder for a moment before he'd wrap his arms around her, tucking her head against his chest. He'd let out a soft sigh himself before sort of loosely holding her against himself.

"Minerva, we've been fuckin' for MONTHS and yeah, yer claws fuckin' hurt me but I LIKE it. I like that yer not really fuckin' human. If ya really wanna fuckin' DATE me, I'm willin' to try. what ya say?"

If she were being honest with herself, and up until he had kissed her she thought herself to be nothing if not honest, but she had been in denial about what she wanted for so long that she pondered if she really WAS as honest as she believed herself to be; if she were being honest with herself, she didn't even know how her mind was working at that point.

FEELINGS? What were those? Minerva Orland only knew the feelings that her father had instilled in her: the need for power and control, pride bordering on arrogance, and dismay at the thought of losing.

Anything else was USELESS. Anything else was a hinderance to progress and a hinderance to the power and control that she CRAVED. She HAD to be in control, in everything down to in bed, but that had all gone out the window when it came to Gajeel. EVERYTHING she ever knew was out the window when it came to him.

He didn't want her to leave, but everything in her was telling her to retreat, to run with her tail between her legs, to hide away from whatever it was that she was feeling until they were SNUFFED OUT; and with enough time, wouldn't that eventually be what happened? She'd get over him, get over these feelings that he was making her feel, and she'd go on with her life, still feeling like the MONSTER her father had turned her into.

Romantic feelings be damned.

She lets out a frustrated groan, albeit one that only he could hear. Putting how she felt into words when it came to THESE feelings was definitely NOT something that Minerva was used to. Every single word or phrase she used was calculated, and she couldn't get her thoughts to stop being so jumbled enough to speak in such a formal manner.

He didn't WANT her to leave. Well, they had that in common, then. Even if she swore to herself that leaving was what would be best for both of them, she didn't WANT to leave. Didn't want to stay away from him.

What DID she want this to mean? She was still having trouble expressing it in words, having trouble saying what it was that she wanted because for so long it didn't MATTER what she wanted, it only mattered that she was the perfect fighting machine. THAT was what she was good for. From how her father had raised her, to joining Sabertooth, even when Tartarus had turned her physical appearance to reflect the monster that was inside of her, she was only good for fighting and winning.

A bitter laugh escapes her, "What does it matter what I want anyway? What if I just push you away because I have no fucking clue what I'm doing and I get SCARED?" Minerva Orland? SCARED? Impossible. Or was it? Right now she was fucking terrified.

"Gajeel -- I've only ever been good for one thing, I'm not good at this. I'm not good at... whatever the hell this is." Her father never reinforced positive emotions, and without a mother in her life, only ever hearing how her mother was so weak that she'd died in childbirth, it never came up to Minerva to actually have a positive role model in her life. Hell, the closest thing she had was Sting Eucliffe, and she was still trying to unlearn everything her father had taught her.

"I CAN'T want what I want. What I want only shows the WEAKNESS in me." But she DID want that -- DID want those feelings to come to the surface rather than pushing them down. Feelings of... love? No, that was impossible. Minerva Orland had never loved before and she damn sure wasn't about to start. Perhaps denial would be better, it didn't leave her hurt.

"I CAN'T be that vulnerable -- I WANT to date you.. I WANT to spend time with you outside of the bedroom and-- just BE with you." Talk to him, tell him her problems, but all of those desires? It only showed how WEAK she really was.

She avoids eye contact, "I might WANT to date you but what kind of person wants a MONSTER like me? I hurt your guildmate, I just end up hurting everyone around me."

[y0itsbri]

gallavich week 2021 - day 2 - fantasy au w/ inspo from this wonderful prompt list by @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings

You're Not Getting Cold Fins Now, Are Ya?

word count: 6.3k

(click on art for better quality)

Mickey truly enjoyed being a fisherman. He liked the solitude that came with the job -- no one on his ass trying to tell him what to do or that what he's doing was wrong when it definitely wasn't. He was always a resourceful little bastard, and his confidence at sea was not unwarranted. He knew how to do shit, and how to do shit right -- crewmates be damned. Nothing but him and the water, just the way he liked it.

He often sold his fish at the market in the small coastal town where he and his sister, Mandy, reside. Her charisma luring customers to their stand, promising the best of the best -- and it wasn't even a lie anymore. Lately, Mickey's produce was the freshest and somehow the most beautiful, catching somewhat exotic fish with vibrant colors that none of the other fishermen were able to attract. Mandy had once trapped him in the corner, demanding answers to questions like how on earth he alone could come up with all this? She thought he was secretly a pirate, raiding other ships, stealing their best, and dumping the rest -- you can't fucking afford to go to jail again, dumbass! Time after time, he reassured her that it was just dumb fucking luck until she caved and let him go, not withholding a dubious glare. Despite what he told her, and even told himself, he was a bit suspicious. He was not a lucky man.

With an ungraceful leap, he had heaved himself out of his boat, the water well deeper than his knees, but his overalls keeping him as dry as he could be. His beef jerky strip hanged out of his mouth as he marveled towards the tree line in front of him. If he didn't feel so damn calm, he might have been a bit frightened at his new surrounding -- but it felt right. He also felt like he was being watched. His eyes scanned past the trees and over to the rocky ledge where water was splashing high and mighty, creating a silvery mist. He saw a patch of orange-ish red shimmering against the water. It was surely too shallow for any fish or octopus that size to be this close to shore. He turned around to make sure he boat was firmly anchored this time before he ventured over to the rocks. But as soon as he turned around again, the orange thing had disappeared. Huh.

With an ungraceful leap, he had heaved himself out of his boat, the water well deeper than his knees, but his overalls keeping him as dry as he could be. His beef jerky strip hanged out of his mouth as he marveled towards the tree line in front of him. If he didn't feel so damn calm, he might have been a bit frightened at his new surrounding -- but it felt right. He also felt like he was being watched. His eyes scanned past the trees and over to the rocky ledge where water was splashing high and mighty, creating a silvery mist. He saw a patch of orange-ish red shimmering against the water. It was surely too shallow for any fish or octopus that size to be this close to shore. He turned around to make sure he boat was firmly anchored this time before he ventured over to the rocks. But as soon as he turned around again, the orange thing had disappeared. Huh.

Mickey sat himself in the sand, reveling in the feeling of being on land again. As often as he flipped between land and sea, the difference never failed to startle him. He dragged his hands through the sand, feeling like some fancy exfoliator Mandy was always trying to get him to use. He was adamantly watching the colorful rocks bead through his fingertips. A larger stone caught in his palm. He held it up to the sun where it was peeking out from behind the clouds. At first glance, it looked like any other stone -- kind of a boring sea foam color, but in the sun, it sparkled like green embers. He rested the stone atop his knee and turned his attention to a bird squawking from the rocks. Noisy fucker. He furrowed his eyebrows wondering what could have happened for the bird to cause such a fuss. Stuck in his tangle of thoughts and oblivious to the world, a wave swept over him -- even above his overalls.

Mickey leapt up in surprise, "Motherfuck-!" In all his joust movements, he managed his lose the stone... and his dignity. He didn't have a spare change of clothes on his boat because it was supposed to be a short trip. He didn't plan on falling asleep and ending up on an island god-knows-where. So there he sat, pouting, in just his boxers and hat while he let the remainder of his clothes air dry with what little sun there was. He could've sworn he heard someone laughing at him -- giggling, even. He glared towards the squawking bird before determining it was his own paranoia. Mandy had him do all that therapy shit awhile back, so he knows how he can get sometimes and how it's a 'trauma response' or some bullshit that actually made a hell of a lot of sense now that he thought about it.

He pulled out an orange from the front pocket of his overalls, still half damp in the sand. He nibbled on it, tossing his peels as far into the tide as he could, watching it float... float... disappear. Whatever creature was down there must really fuckin' like oranges. It was quick, but exciting none-the-less. Mickey no longer felt sluggish like his impromptu nap that landed him on this island might have suggested. He felt alive.

The sun placement told him that it was time to head back if he had any chance of making it back to the coast before sundown. Fuck! His fish! He picked up his clothes and half-jogged half-stumbled back to his boat, expecting the fish he had caught earlier in the day to have gotten tainted by now. He shoved his legs into his mostly-dry overalls and waded out to his boat. To his surprise, the fish looked good -- almost better than when he caught them.

Now Mickey may not be the most observant, but even he knew something was a little suspicious (something a little fishy is going on here🤔). If he didn't know then, he definitely knew when he turned to see the green ember stone -- his stone -- resting on top of his ice box. The fuck? He picked up the stone, smoothing over it's edges with his thumb, leaving a sparkling trail where his fingers had just touched. So it wasn't just from the sunlight, interesting. He secured the rock inside the zipper pocket on his overalls, then double checking to make sure it was still there. Whatever force on his side might be into second chances, but he didn't want to test his new luck with third chances.

He really had to get going now. He gave the island a once over as he pulled out his map, subtly marking his new uncharted oasis. This was something else.

--

Since his initial discovery, Mickey had come back to the island several times, and all the more prepared. He kept spare clothes on him at all times now, in case the tide one again decided to have a personal vendetta against him and his overalls -- which of course it had. He also brought more beef jerky, tools, and a tent. He was determined to see more than just the coast the next time he returned.

He had told Mandy that he was going to stop at another port for the night so as not to wait up for him that evening, which wasn't unheard of. With the amount of overnight stays on his isolated island as of lately, however, Mandy thought he had a secret lover a few ports over, teasing and making kissy faces at him whenever she could. "Who is she, Mick? Oh, c'mon, I tell you about my hookups!" "Yeah, and I wish you fuckin' didn't." "Whatever, anyways, she's gotta have a name. Wait! Oh my god! He? Is it a guy? Mickey!" "Mandy, no." She could be annoying as hell when she wanted to, but she mostly knew when to stop.

As much as Mickey denied a secret lover, there was definitely a secret something, but he couldn't place his finger on exactly what it was. He knew there was like the red-ish, orange-ish glow that flickered beneath the surface of the water. And he knew there was feelings. Which sounded weird as hell -- even to himself. He should have just played along with Mandy's hookup in another port theory. Hell, he should find a hookup in another port. That would be a lot simpler than whatever this was. But he just couldn't get himself to stay away from this mystical island. His fish business was doing better than ever, so he had no real excuse to stay away.

He had managed to map out the geography and topography of the island after a few visits -- Mickey knew his shit. No one lived on this island. It looked like no one has ever lived on this island. It was a small, and it was beautiful, but he still couldn't find the source of whatever force drew him here -- at least when he was actively searching for it. He continued throwing his orange peels in the ocean to be devoured by his... friend? He tried to throw his apple cores in, but his creature was apparently not a fan. He didn't blame them, to be honest.

He began to talk to himself and even sing to himself more and more on the island. He thought he may have heard the laughter again, and even some off-key humming or whistles along to his tunes. Mickey didn't even care if it was the paranoia or if he was having some odd hallucination at this point. He just felt entirely too good.

--

Which is why he didn't see it coming. If he hadn't been so distracted by this siren-like callings, he would have noticed the storm coming. He was Mickey fucking Milkovich, damnit. He knew his shit! Which is why he knew that he could secure the boat as best as humanly possible, and it still wouldn't survive the storm surge unscathed. He hoped that whatever force looking out for him would look out for his boat. He said a quick prayer -- and he wasn't religious by any means -- as he double checked to make sure he had his 'lucky' stone, his backpack, and his map, then hiked inland where he knew there was a cave for shelter.

He had escaped the start of the downpour, but only barely. The dark clouds loomed overhead, chasing out any hopes of a light, easy rain. Mickey huddled against the inner wall of the cave, nibbling at one of his jerky strips, and cursing the lack of cell phone signal on this fucking island that doesn't even fucking exist according to any map he's ever fucking seen. To say he was having a bad day was an understatement. He couldn't do much but wait, and he quickly fell asleep to the pitter patter of the water dripping outside the cave.

He awoke to a sharp burning on his chest. The fuck?! His so-called 'lucky' stone was hot. And glowing. And so was most of the other rocks in the cave. Now this was definitely something. The stones obviously did not want him to stay still as they grew hotter and glowed brighter, but this time alternating and lighting up a path down a miniscule stream he hadn't noticed before. The storm had long stopped, and he hoped these bewitched stones would at least lead him to the shore so he can check on whatever remains of his boat.

Mickey followed the path to the shore, luckily, but more towards the rocks that he noticed on his first visit. He hardly saw the rocks now as he was drawn to a heap of familiar orange-ish red-ish laid up on shore. He fully expected it to disappear again so he refused to even blink, inching closer. It was alive -- for sure -- that was good, but it was battered from the storm. It looked scaley... but also had hair? It grunted and rolled over. Yup. That was a man. But also a fish.

Mickey thought his hallucination were playing entirely too many games on him now but he physically could not bring himself to turn away, as much as he swore he wanted to. He wanted out. He was insane. That was the only explanation, because obviously mermaids weren't real. He was sleeping, he had to be. He would wake up in his bed next door to Mandy's and all of this would go away. Hell, maybe the whole island was in his dreams. Maybe he was trapped in a very realistic coma. He looked around for something to wake him the fuck up when he heard the creature groan again.

Fuuuuuck, now Mickey was involved. The tide had pulled back far enough that left the creature stranded on the land. The stone grew hotter yet against his chest. "Alright, alright, I fuckin' got it, thank you," he grumbled. The creature turned it's startled head towards his. They locked eyes -- green embers. Of course.

"It's you, isn't it? All this time?" Mickey asked as the creature weakly tried to hide his face. Mickey didn't know why. It was a beautiful face, somehow covered in freckles that sparkled.

"Nah, man, it's cool, right? We've been having fun, eating oranges and shit?"

The creature unburied its head and quietly whistled one of Mickey's favorite songs, earning a chuckle out of Mickey as he awkwardly lifted the half-man half-fish in some semblance of a firefighter carry. Mickey expected the creature to be slick and cold, but he was soft and warm. Odd, but not unpleasant. They were almost to the water now.

"Yeah, Rain on Me by Ariana Grande and Lady Gaga. Fuckin' banger. Don't tell my fuckin' sister about this. She'd never let me live this down."

The red-headed creature tilted its head in confusion.

"Lady Gaga? Ya know, Mother Monster?"

He seemed to startle at the word 'monster' as he wiggled, escaping Mickey's grip into the water, disappearing into the dark sea. Frowning, in a last attempt at communication.

Mickey wasn't having it. Nah. The creature had been luring him for weeks. Hanging out with him for weeks. Even called out to him with some fuckin' moon stone type things. And now it wanted to disappear? He didn't fucking get it. He kept talking to himself as he paced along the shore.

"You're not getting cold fins now, are you?" Mickey teased, "Wait, fuck, is that offensive? Fuck, I'm sorry, please just come back."

He was acting fucking pathetic. He buried his face in his hands. Fuck. His brain was fucked. His life was fucked. His boat was fucked. His boat.

Mickey nearly tripped as he stumbled back to his boat. Or more like where he docked his boat. All that remained was his anchor. The rest had been mangled and scattered along the shore. He could probably get it fixed eventually since he had the little foresight to keep his tools safe in his backpack. But until then, he was stuck on an island, that apparently didn't exist, with a companion, who apparently didn't want to be perceived, and a dwindling supply of beef jerky. Great.

--

It had been a depressing night. Without Mandy's overenthusiastic presence or his new friend's feel-good aura, Mickey was especially pessimistic. He hardly got any sleep, his brain racking all the ways he could possibly fix his boat. Mickey Milkovich knew his shit, but he was beginning to feel a little doomed. He took out his 'unlucky' stone from it's secure pocket, fidgeting with it like he does when he's nervous. The thing was cold (one could say it was stone cold😎).

Feeling hopeless, he stormed back to the shore, tossing his last orange into the water, intent on yelling at the water until he died a peaceful death.

"C'mon, man," his voice came out sounding more like pleading than yelling, but what can you do? "I don't give a fuck if you're a man or a fish. I need you to help me fix my fucking boat! You got me into this mess, you get me out of it!"

He collapsed in the moonlight. He was absolutely not on the verge of crying. He was focusing on his breathing so intently that he barely heard his voice.

Holy fuck, though. He finally got why the legends always referred to mermaids as sirens. He would follow this voice anywhere. It was as disturbing as it was comforting.

Mickey was knocked out of his trance as his previously-tossed orange rolled to a stop at his feet.

"I said, I'm sorry." The siren's red hair poked out of the ocean several feet in front of him. Mickey continued to stare. How the fuck did this motherfucker's freckles glow brighter than the stars in the sky above them?

"I never meant to cause you harm. Swear. I even brought you the best fish I could find. My family lectured me about cannibalism or some shit, but I just wanted any excuse to see you again."

Mickey stared in awe. The creature's voice ringing through his ears prettier than any choir he had ever heard. He had got to get himself together. He was supposed to be mad. Right!

"What about my fuckin' boat? You realize I actually have to leave this place eventually, right, Red?" Maybe Mickey was being a bit harsh considering he was basically in the middle of some magical doomsday. But he was still ridiculously frustrated at his current situation.

"Hmm," the creature considered, "my name is Ian." Ian. Ian. Ian. The name chimed through his head. "And I was thinking about your boat. I tried to save it before it was too late, but I ended up too close to the shore, and the tide was ridiculous, and hence I got stranded and we got off to the wrong... fin." Ian gave Mickey a dumbass smirk, clearly proud of himself.

Okay, it did ease the tension, Mickey would give him that. Mickey was silent for a bit too long again.

"And what is your name?" Ian mused, "I've got to stop calling you That-One-Hot-Fisherman in my head."

Mickey nearly choked, and tried to cover it up by rubbing his hand against his lips, "Mikhailo." He had no idea why he was compelled to share his real name. He hadn't used that name in years -- only liking it from the sound of his mother's mouth. He corrected himself, "Well, it's Mickey. That's what I go by."

"Okay, well, Mickey Mikhailo, shall we get started on rebuilding your boat now or do you want to wait until morning?" Ian looked both devious and sincere. It was maddeningly confusing.

If Mickey swooned at the way a fucking fish said his name, that was nobody's business. But he couldn't deny he was exhausted. His stone was warm against his chest, comfortingly so, not hot like before. He managed to mumbled out a "in the morning" before falling into the peaceful sleep he had been so desperately craving.

--

Mickey awoke to sunshine in his face and a bird pecking at his thigh -- the pocket where his final jerky stick remained.

"Fuck off you fucking fuck!" He shooed haphazardly while rubbing fucking literal sand out of his eyes. God, what a nightmare.

"I see someone's not a morning person," teased an orange blob from the water. Mickey rubbed his eyes again. Right. Ian.

"Fuck off, fish genius over there."

"That's not any way to treat your only chance of getting off the island anytime soon," Ian pouted.

Fish genius had a point.

"Sorry," Mickey grumbled. He was never one for apologies, but man did he need to stay on this creature's good side. But, he was all good sides as far as Mickey was concerned. In the daylight, he could see how Ian's orange hair curled into little rings when it air dried. It looked real fuckin' soft. He couldn't remember if he had the chance to touch it yesterday on their fucking rescue mission. He needed to distract himself before he said something he regretted. He was not about to be flirting with a fish. He wasn't!

"Ya got any more oranges you can toss my way? Fuckin' starving."

Ian pointed at the one sandy orange a few feet from where Mickey had slept, "Just yours that you tried to hit me with, thank you very much."

"You like the peels, though." Mickey said as he tossed a piece into the ocean, floating several yards away from where Ian's head bobbed out of the water.

That took Ian aback, "Damn, I thought I was slicker than that."

"Not that slick, man."

"Hmm." Ian briefly considered before speeding over to the peel and devouring it quickly, "I can get you some sea food -- as your people say."

"Ain't that basically illegal for you, Red? Ain't you technically sea food?" Mickey musing, tossing another piece of his orange peel into the water.

Ian rolled his eyes. "I-an." He sounded it out slowly. "But I mean, circle of life and all that." He chased the orange peel, twisting it in his fingertips, awaiting Mickey's response.

"Nah, it's cool, don't worry about it, I-an. I don't really want any part in your whole fucked up moral dilemma situation. Got enough of those myself."

Mickey avoided Ian's attempt at eye contact, and Ian didn't push the conversation any further. He seemed tentative again. Mickey didn't want to lose him again.

"So... boat stuff?" Mickey huffed as he stood up, turning to his mangled beauty.

"Yeah," Ian did that dumbass smirk again that had Mickey fucking blushing, "Boat stuff."

--

Ian explained that he had spent most of the night gathering the parts that he could find in the water, and even some special mud and sea weed looking things that he promised would hold it together if Mickey's tools couldn't. Mickey took offense to the lack of faith Ian had in his skills, but he eventually agreed that it was at least somewhat warranted given their current predicament.

Mickey spent the morning gathering boat parts from land, and by midday, he felt hopeful. It was a 'finding treasure in the trash' kind of moment, but it was enough for now.

Ian and Mickey had fell into idle conversations as Mickey worked to restore his boat and Ian gazed onward, bobbing in the waves.

"So, you have a sister named Mandy?" Ian asked after a slice of silent had washed over them.

"What, are you a psychic, too?" Mickey laughed nervously under his breath.

Ian rolled his eyes like that was the stupidest thing he's ever heard. "No, smartass, I'm a good listener." He paused. "You talk about her a lot."

"Wasn't sure if you were real or if I was crazy." Was all Mickey managed to respond. Ian was really more of the conversation carrier and neither of them seemed to mind.

"Do you have any other family or friends?" Ian wondered, this time genuinely curious.

"Considering I'm talking to you right now, what do you think?"

Ian silently stared at Mickey until his watch became uncomfortable and Mickey felt the urge to continue.

"Mandy's the only one that sticks around. She actually cares about me -- fixes me dinner, drags me out to meet her friends, even makes sure I get enough sleep -- she's fuckin' crazy."

"It sounds like she loves you."

"Yeah. Dunno why."

"You're a good person, Mickey."

Mickey flashed Ian his knuckles reading 'FUCK U-UP' in faded black ink. "Yeah, I'm a real stand-up guy."

"No, I mean it." And Ian just looked so genuine that all Mickey could do was believe it for once in his goddamn life. All it took was for a fish to tell him. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

"What's your social circle look like? Couple of dolphins, maybe a crab?"

"Maybe," Ian confessed. Shit, maybe this was some real life Little Mermaid. "But I also have five siblings."

"Y'all all got bright-ass fins? Or is that just you?" Mickey still couldn't believe this was his reality right now, but shit, might as well hear about all of Ariel's siblings.

"My little sister, Debbie, she's orange like me. My mom had a theory that our colors are reflective of like our auras or something. She was always hanging around this old-as-balls sea turtle spouting off whatever nonsense he remembered. Some of it makes sense, though. My oldest sister, Fiona, is purple. Then there's my brothers -- Lip is blue, Carl is green, and Liam is yellow."

"Mandy has black hair like me. But she has a nose piercing, and I ain't getting one of those anytime soon."

Ian smiled that Mickey was even trying to draw some sort of semblance between their drastically different worlds. But it felt so natural, Mickey couldn't help it.

Mickey felt his lucky stone grow warm, again. Ian wasn't in any trouble, though. He was literally right fuckin' here. And he was happy. Mickey was happy, too.

--

By nightfall, they had called it quits. Mickey had ended up using some of Ian's 'special' tools, earning a fair amount of teasing from Ian himself. Whatever. The red-head had been protecting him so far. He trusted him -- even if that thought was terrifying. The mud would dry in the moonlight, and Ian assured Mickey that he would be set by morning.

Mickey was fucking hungry after a long day's work. It was high tide and Ian had something different in mind.

"Now that we're talking," Ian started. "I've been wanting to show you this."

Mickey waited for further instructions.

"Follow the stones, I'll meet you there, promise."

Mickey trusted the fucker despite his innate inability to trust anyone else, so he followed the stones into the thick of the forest. He knew the island. He had mapped the thing. He didn't know what Ian could possibly want to show him that he hadn't already seen.

The path stopped glowing near the bottom of a cliff. He knew about the cliff. But what he didn't know was that the cliff was a waterfall.

"Woah."

"Pretty cool, huh? Only happens with lots of rain."

Ian had prepared them a fish dinner set on another rocky edge, like the one on the other side of the island.

"Ian. You're a fish. This ain't right."

"First of all, I'm a mammal. Second, it's fine. They tell me when they're ready to die so I have a clear conscious as far as I'm concerned."

"Dude. I knew this was fucked up, but that is fucked up."

"Dude," Ian mocked him, "We're in the middle of the fucking ocean. Do you have any better ideas, or are you just gonna be all pissy? Least you can do is eat with me."

Mickey's jerky supply was officially gone. Fish genius had another point.

Mickey wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Ian's dinner was even better than Mandy's were.

--

Morning came and Mickey found himself not wanting to leave. Of course, he knew he had to, so he would.

"So, Red, I guess this is goodbye?"

"Only for now. You'll be back." Ian winked. Mickey knew he would.

"This is stupid, but like, you can't go back with me? Like, we make a pretty good team."

Mickey was visibly uncomfortable at his moment of vulnerability, and Ian took pity on him with a gentle smile. "Unless I want to get hunted, I'm better off here. It's safer."

"Right, right." That made sense. Mickey didn't even want to think about the possibility of Ian getting hurt. There had been rumors about mermaids in the area, but he had always assumed them to be tall tales. He knew enough of the fishermen were heavy drinkers and supposed that played a factor in their truth-telling.

"My mother is on land now, but she wouldn't choose to help me. Learned that the hard way."

Mickey frowned. He knew what it was like to have a parent that would trade you for literally anything else. But he was more curious about another part of Ian's story.

"What do you mean your mom is on land? Like she was captured or something?"

"No, nothing like that. More like she's got two legs that she uses to chase whatever thrilling experience she can. Another one of her wacky theories was that her 'true love's kiss' gave her the ability to shapeshift between her land and water forms whenever she wanted."

"Huh."

"All my siblings think she's crazy. The idea was tempting enough for awhile, though. Fiona had gotten real close to this sailor named Steve. He promised her the world and she believed him. But their bond wasn't enough to shift. Fiona was sure he was her soulmate. He still comes around sometimes. And then there's Debbie, who almost got killed trying to woo some girl at the port. I think my mother is just a hopeless romantic. But hope can be dangerous sometimes."

Mickey listened on to this story that sounded more like a children's bedtime story -- all this princess nonsense about a true love's kiss made him think that maybe this red-head was Ariel. He suppressed a laugh when he saw the worried look in Ian's eyes.

"Well whatever it is, she sounds pretty lucky."

Ian smiled softly, sadly. "Yeah."

"Hey," Mickey said gently. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay."

And with that, Mickey sailed his patchwork boat back to whatever wrath Mandy was about to unleash on him.

--

The door creaked as Mickey made his way into the apartment he shares with his sister. He was nearly tackled on sight.

"Mickey, what the fuck!" Mandy punched his shoulder before crushing him into another hug. "I was so worried about you, you little shit!" "Ow! Jesus, I'm alive. Would you calm your tits?!"

Mandy gave him one more punch for good measure, "Where the fuck have you been? Three days, Mikhailo Aleksandr, three days! Tell me you didn't get that bitch up at the other port pregnant. I'm not taking in anymore rug rats."

"Bad storm. Boat wreck. And ya know what," Mickey threw his hands into the air, "I wish I would have got someone pregnant. Instead, I was stranded at sea, so maybe be a little bit nicer to me?"

"Fuck." She slumped a bit, "How did you manage to get back? Did you call one of your pirate buddies?"

"Jesus Christ, Mandy. I'm not a pirate -- even though they are dope as fuck, by the way. I just so happen to have a few brain cells -- something you don't know anything about."

Mandy rolled her eyes, "Competent enough to sail straight into a storm, huh?

Mickey flipped her off, "Good to be home, sis."

Mandy smiled, "C'mon, I'll make you some real food. I'm sick just thinking about you surviving off fuckin' jerky for half a week."

-- Mickey picked up a couple shifts at Mandy's bar the next week and a half to make up for three days of lost produce and another week for the time it took to properly fix his boat. He trusted Ian's magic mud well enough, but he didn't want to push his luck.

He wore short sleeve button-ups when he was bartending. He didn't have the comfortable luxury of built in inner pockets like with his fishing overalls, so he sewed his own. He couldn't stand the idea of not having his lucky stone close to his heart.

One night while he was slinging drinks, he mind at sea, he felt the stone grow hot and hotter. Fuck! It nearly burned his skin. He took it out from its pocket tossing it back and forth between his hands. It was glowing again. He felt nauseous. This had to mean Ian was in danger, right? Like last time in the cave? He wasn't on the island. He didn't have some magic pathway leading him exactly where he needed to go. What if he didn't get there in time?

He must have looked as insane as he felt because he felt a cautious hand on his shoulder. "Mick, take a fifteen."

"Got it." Mickey headed out back. Mandy would assume he was just having a smoke. But he ran. He hoped to hell that he was on the right track. The stone glowed brighter so he took that as a good sign.

He was out of breath as he rounded the corner and ended up at the docks. The stone's glow died down and it grew cold. Something was very wrong. What the fuck?

"Ian!" He probably looked like a psychopath screaming at the sea. Maybe he wasn't far from it.

This was the dock his boat was usually parked at. He was on his way to his old spot. Maybe--

A flash of red caught his eye in the dark water. No fish that red was ever this close to shore. His stomach crumbled. Oh my God, Ian.

Mickey dropped to ground, trying to get a better look at what was wrong. Wrapped in fishing nets was Ian, his skin a sickly shade of blue that wasn't from the moonlight.

Mickey made quick work of the fishing net with his pocket knife, careful not to cut Ian's slightly cold body. Was he too late? He couldn't be too late. He was here now. Everything would be fine.

Tapping into the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Mickey heaved Ian's large body onto the dock planks. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing at least.

"Ian. Ian, look at me. You're safe now, okay?" Mickey turned around, making sure he was alone. Luckily, no one was out at the water this time of night. Mickey pulled Ian's head into his lap and brushed his fingers through Ian's hair. Fuckin' finally. It was soft. So soft. "Hey, Red, wanna hook me up with whatever conditioner you got under the sea?" He laughed at himself to keep from crying.

Ian murmured something, lips barely parting.

Mickey stopped his caresses, "What was that, Mumbles?"

"Said you're a dumbass." Ian repeated. It was quiet, but his sass rang through. He was alive alright.

"I know." Mickey smiled for real this time. He placed a gentle kiss on Ian's forehead near his hairline. Ian's eyes fluttered open as they held each others' gaze.

They were distracted when Mickey's stone glowed bright again. Probably brighter than it has ever been before. The color shifted from it's usual green ember to resemble more of an icy blue. The boys watched as it began to shake on the ground -- where Mickey had dropped it when he spotted Ian's body. The stone continued to vibrate violently until it burst. Green and blue specks of light joining the stars in the sky above them. Mickey was so entranced by the light that he didn't notice when something else began to shift.

Ian's shimmering red-orange tail was replaced by two, long, freckled legs. Ian's eyes grew wide as he hit Mickey's arm.

"The fuck you hitting me for -- holy shit."

"Maybe my mom wasn't crazy."

"Maybe not." Mickey traced Ian's new legs with his fingertips. "How do you feel? Pretty big change, champ."

"It feels right... which is weird." Ian concluded after a moment, wiggling his toes.

"You're weird, so it makes sense." Mickey nodded, like it was obvious.

Ian rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

Mickey cocked his head as his lips upturned into a smirk, "Make me."

Mickey had expected Ian to still be chilled from the water, but he wasn't. He was warm and soft. So there they stayed, tightly wrapped in each others' arms under the dancing green-blue stars and the sound of gentle waves knocking into boats.

--

It was safe to say that Mickey had entirely forgot about returning to his shift at the bar that night. They had decided to sneak Ian into Mickey's room before the fishermen got their early start on the day ay the docks. It was still dark when they slowly opened his apartment's front door, knocking into each other and trying not to laugh at their bizarre situation.

Mandy flicked on the larger kitchen light, ready to give her brother an ear-full for leaving her alone to serve the bar creeps all night when she noticed he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by a tall, gorgeous, red-headed man, who appeared to only have eyes for her brother, not even noticing her presence.

"I thought you said you didn't have any bitches?" Mandy said, hoping to burst them out of their little bubble.

Mickey mumbled a quiet fuck under his breath. And surprisingly, Ian was the first to speak up, "Uh, you must be Mandy? I'm Ian. I'm uh- just visiting town."

"Mhm, whatever you say. Mick, next time, at least tell me when you're ditching work for a booty call, yeah?" She said after an appreciative glance Ian's way, bumping Mickey's hip as she walked past them to her room down the hall.

"Oh, work. Yeah, my bad." Mickey had genuinely forgot. Something about soulmates kind of clouding his judgement.

"Pasta's on the stove -- goodnight, dumbass and company!" She called before slamming her door closed.

Ian erupted into a fistful of giggles, "So much for sneaking in, huh?"

"Whatever, do you want some pasta, or are you sticking straight to cannibalism and orange peels?" Mickey teased.

"I'll have whatever you're having, stud." Ian squeezed the back of Mickey's neck.

--

After their late night/ early morning pasta, they had curled up in Mickey's bed, facing each other in silence, their eyes saying all the words that they didn't need to say out loud. Until-

"Fuck!" Ian's abrupt comment startled Mickey, even causing a hitch in Mandy's snoring in the next room over. Softer, he continued, "Your lucky stone, Mick. It's gone." He looked sad. He wanted to fix it.

Mickey brought his hand up to Ian's cheek, brushing it softly. "I don't need it, man. I have you."

Ian covered Mickey's hand with his own, then brought their hands to his lips, kissing each of Mickey's tattooed knuckles gently, like they held the secrets of the universe. Mickey smiled.

"I am the luckiest man in the world." And he was.