#one day I’ll force myself to write a big story

[zhongfile]

something’s missing. — Lee Donghyuck

PAIRING. haechan x fem reader

GENRE. smut

WARNINGS. blackmailing, dubcon themes, unprotected sex, crying, slapping, oral, degradation, forced breeding, stalking of socials, non-consented recording. big d!ck haechan agenda.

WC. 2.1K

A/N: miss the dreamies so bad it got me writing again😪 please enjoy this smut that i’ve been working on for a while that only @2cupids has known about LOL. feedback is so highly appreciated it’s been so long!! proof read but not rly oops. hope you enjoy:’)

Haechan scoffed when he viewed your story. Jealousy washing over his body when he saw you kissing another man on the cheek. the caption reading happy one month with a pink heart emoji. “Unbelievable” he mumbled to himself, tossing his phone. Surely you were only posting that to make him upset right?

You and haechan parted ways a long time ago. Two years ago to be exact haechan still believing you loved him and only moved on to get a reaction out of him. Which.. wasn’t true. You stopped worrying about haechan the day you two broke up. Threatening to get a restraining order made him back off a little, giving you the chance to call the quits. Haechan tried to rationalize with you saying he couldn’t live without you and wanted to remain good friends even if you two weren’t together anymore. You were easy to manipulate though that quickly came to an end.

Your ���friendship’ lasted maybe a good week before you stopped returning his phone calls and blocked him on everything. Now here you are two years later in a happy relationship, new friends, and even a better job. Haechan hasn’t even crossed your mind since you’ve been with Jake, finally feeling safe in a relationship for once.

Haechan on the other hand still kept tabs on you. Though you blocked him and all his friends he still had an old burner account he used to stalk your socials. He was happy to see you happy but hated that it wasn’t him being there for you and all your new accomplishments. He hated seeing you under another man. He hated that you were purposely posting all this to make him jealous. To make him react this way.

He shakes his head, smacking his dry lips together, how could you just move on that easily?

Haechan had to think of a way to get you back into his life again.

You laid your head on your boyfriend's chest as you slowly began to drift off to sleep. Your phone buzzed ignoring the first two times it went off getting up to check it the third time it buzzed. The number that texted you was a number you didn't save or recognize, figuring someone just had the wrong number. Your eyes went wide at the three video attachments of you fucking haechan and giving him head. ‘Why does he still have these?’ You asked yourself. Your heart sank at the following messages. He found you yet again.

Unknown: Remember these?

Unknown: Oh how I miss you and your tongue. I still watch these videos to get myself off

Unknown: come on y/n don’t ignore me :((

Unknown: maybe i should send these videos to jake huh? show him how much fun we used to have.

You froze at the text.. How did he know who Jake was?

You: please delete those videos haechan. seriously please

Unknown: look who finally decided to reply!

Unknown: come over and maybe i’ll consider deleting

You: please don’t do this again. just delete them and we both can go our separate ways donghyuck.

Unknown: either you come over or i send it to him. your call

Haechan smiled to himself when you texted you were on the way. He was going to make you his again.

Haechan decided to tidy up the place before your arrival, spraying some cheap air freshener in his living room to make his apartment seem more comfortable. He wanted seeing you again to be memorable, setting up a camera in the far left corner in his living room hiding it good enough so you wouldn’t see. His hands felt sweaty and his heart rate was increasing, butterflies filling his tummy. He couldn’t believe he was actually about to see you, a grin slowly creeping on his face.

You had a horrible feeling about how this whole thing was going to go. Haechan never takes no for an answer and you had a gut feeling it was going to take everything in you to get him to delete those old videos. The pit of your stomach began to drop when you arrived at his apartment. Horrible flashbacks started playing in the back of your head when you parked your car. let’s just get this over with you thought to yourself as you approached Haechan’s door.

It’s like he could feel your presence at the door opening it before you even knocked. He smiled, “hi”

“hey..” you mumbled under your breath barely looking at him.

Haechan opened the door wider welcoming you in. Everything was still the same.. the exact same. Same old raggedy furniture that he should’ve thrown away years ago. Even your old pictures of the two of you were hanging on the wall. All the memories between you two begin to flood your mind and you need to get haechan to delete these videos so you could leave and never think about him again.

“Come sit,” Haechan patted his thigh, that shit eating grin resting on his lips. You didn’t want to upset or trigger anything obeying everything he asked you to do. You sat on his knee, hands resting uncomfortably in your lap. “So tell me what’s been new? How are things with your little boyfriend?” he asked, moving your hair out of your face to see you better, making you close your eyes at his touch. “Things are okay...”

“Just okay?” he asked emphasizing on ‘just’

“things are good..” you corrected yourself trying to shift off his lap a bit haechan pulling you closer to him squeezing your thigh. “Why are you trying to run away from me?” He asked with a slight pout to his lips

“Haechan.. please” your voice was barely above a whisper refusing to make eye contact with him. “I just want you to delete the videos so we can go our separate ways again”

“Come on, you don’t miss me?” you didn’t reply quick enough for his liking making haechan pull you all the way onto his lap a gasp leaving your lips as you now straddled him.

“Haechan” you called softly “ohh now you can hear me” he let out a teasing laugh rubbing his hands up and down your thigh.

“please..” you begged once again. Haechan rubbed your cheek so softly and sweet like he actually cared about anything you were asking him for. He reached in the front of his pocket pulling his phone out unlocking it and showing you his messages. The video of you two already loaded up to be sent to jake. All it took was one press.

“Haechan please stop” you cry, “i’ll do anything!” you blurted out reaching for the phone.

Haechan locked it and looked down at you. And there it was. He knew you were gonna eventually give in.

He rests his arms on the couch looking at your head tilted to the side. “Get on your knees”

You hesitated getting off his lap kneeling between his spread legs. Your hands were shaking unbuckling his jeans only pulling his pants down far enough to free his cock. Haechan hisses at the cool air hitting his tip dripping in pre-cum. your lips glide over his length trying your best to fit him in your mouth. bobbing your head back and forth gently Haechan getting impatient with this little act you were putting up. You’ve sucked his dick plenty of times. Why are you acting like you don’t know what you are doing?

He grabbed a fistful of your hair making you yelp “Are you trying to piss me off huh?” he slapped you across the face making you close your eyes from the sting.

You shook your head no. “I can’t hear you” he slaps you again, a tear falling down your cheek. “no..” you sniffled.

“Then do it right” he pushed your head back down onto his cock doing the work for you.

“fuck” he mumbled under his breath pushing your face all the way down on his cock almost cumming on the spot watching you gag. You pinched at his thigh trying to get him to let go so you could breathe but Haechan didn’t care. He just wanted to get his dick wet by his favorite girl.

He finally pulled you up smirking at the way you gasped for air. He let out a moan at the sight of you. Drool and spit dripping down your chin and chest. Eyes filled with tears. He loved seeing you all messy like this. He swore his cock got harder from you crying. For him it was his favorite site. He grabbed you by the jaw guiding you back to his lap.

“Sit on it” you sniffled again wanting to tell him no but couldn’t risk making him more upset. Taking a step back to take your shorts and panties off. You align his cock up with your entrance gripping onto his shoulders to help steady yourself. Haechan surprisingly lets you take your time easing down on his cock the stretch feeling unbelievable.

Haechan let out a sigh when you finally sat all the way. Hands gripping your hips “still so fucking tight— shit”

“y/n— you gotta move or fuck— i’ll fuck up into you” you let your hands rest on his shoulder slowly beginning to bouce up and down.

“it hurts.. you’re too big” you mumbled in between sobs.

“Jake doesn’t fill you up this well does he baby?” you close your eyes at the mention of Jake. Feeling completely horrible for even doing this.

“You missed me didn’t you?” Haechan asked, thrusting up into you watching the way you bite your lip to hold back your moan.

your legs were growing weak and you felt like you could cum in any second. You wanted to keep your eyes closed but couldn’t help but look at the way haechan was so into it. His head was thrown back resting against the couch as he helped you bounce on his big cock. Lip snuck between his teeth watching the way his cock goes in and out of your sweet cunt.

“it’s so big,” you whimpered. “I know baby” Haechan cooed wiping at your tears.

“missed you and this pretty fucking pussy so much” he shook his head, “can’t believe you stayed this tight”

you tried to ignore his words grabbing at his shoulders so hard you were sure he’ll have marks in the morning.

“so pathetic your boyfriend can’t get you off the way i can”

“stop” you managed to mumble out. “What's wrong? don’t like it when i talk about your sweet boyfriend?” he teased.

“How do you think he’ll feel if he saw you right now? Whoring yourself out like this for me?” the tears wouldn’t stop. You hid your face in his shoulder begging him to stop bringing Jake up.

He let out a laugh at the way you hid yourself rubbing circles in your clit. “Haechan please.. stop” you weren’t even sure if you were letting out real words anymore. Your head was dizzy and full off of being a shitty girlfriend and Haechan.

“You’re so fucking close i know you” he laughed. “Cumming from the thought of your boyfriend seeing us fuck hm? Pretty fucked up way of thinking huh pretty girl?” The tears wouldn’t stop still hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“you’re only crying because you feel bad for enjoying this” you begin to sob harder because he’s right.

You didn’t miss haechan and you didn’t miss your relationship but you missed this. The sex life. His big cock that he only enjoyed abusing on you. You love Jake and everything about him but you knew for a fact he wouldn’t fill you up the way Haechan is right now.

“Gonna cum in you” Haechan groaned, closing his eyes shut. You jolted up at his words telling him no.

“Gonna cum in your sweet cunt” Haechan moaned again ignoring your first protest.

“Haechan you can’t! i’m not on the pill—“ he covered your mouth with his left hand tossing his head back as he came in you. Filling you up so good. You closed your eyes at the feeling letting another tear fall down your cheek. Haechan finally took his hand off your mouth trying to catch his breath.

He unlocked his phone showing you to your face that the videos are gone. Deleting all three. You still sat there cheeks puffy and eyes swollen red from all your crying. Haechan wiped your face and kissed your cheeks.

“You don’t have to worry anymore okay? it’s all done” you gave him a nod getting off to clean yourself up before heading home. You couldn't wait to be back in Jake’s arms again.

When you left his apartment haechan promised not to contact you. Apologizing for bothering you in the first place again. You felt pretty good about it this time not feeling the need to block him on anything.

Haechan reached behind his flower pot, stopping the video he recorded. He smiled to himself when he hit play hearing your sobs and pleads. God it was good enough to get him hard again but not tonight. He uploaded the video to his laptop adding to a folder labeled ‘y/n’ where he kept all videos and pictures of you over the past two years. He walked up to his calendar lifting up the page to October. Circling October 21st. That’s when he’ll text you again with another video, surprise. He couldn’t believe how easy this was again.

He finally had your trust back.

[miseta]

Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one

TW: may content explicit sex, +18

6K words

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The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view of the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat rows under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone was taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French player dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night out with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa to finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like moths on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested against her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head to put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish whimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had fell asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze

[thebiggerbear]

i need your hand but i don't want to burn it - One - She's Gone

A/N: Not going to lie, this past month has been a tough one for me. I recently lost someone and it just sucked all of the energy out of me for writing or anything else. I started this back on Feb 16th, within hours of receiving the news, because I was trying to process it as well as my feelings on it all. Beau was in my mind from the very beginning because like I mentioned before, I literally had the thought "Man, I could go for a Beau hug right about now." So this took form and even though I was blocked on everything else, this became a sort of tool of processing for me. I was going to keep this just for myself because I found it to be deeply personal, but then I thought, well, what if someone out there is also currently grieving someone they lost and a little Beau comfort might make them feel better, too? Even in this scenario? So that's why I'm sharing it.

While it is personal what I go into, I changed up things to keep it fictional and sort of tell a story. So the characters and dynamics are fictional, just not the feelings of the reader and the emotional journey/grieving process she goes through if that makes sense.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I attempted the graphics.

Song that randomly came out of nowhere and strangely worked was "broken" by Jonah Kagen. The lyrics just really hit home for me.

Warnings: mention of death; death notification

Word Count: 8587

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Beau Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @illicithallways; @muhahaha303

It was a bright, sunny day when you got the news. The sky was this unimaginable shade of blue, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was a comfortable one. You were on the job and the slight breeze ruffled through your hair when you saw that your aunt was calling you. A knot immediately formed in your stomach; if she was calling you, that couldn’t be good. And sure enough, it wasn’t. 

“She’s gone,” she informed you matter-of-factly. 

It took a moment for your brain to catch up to what she was telling you. “What?”

“She’s gone, Y/N. Happened this morning.” Again, her tone was bland, as if she was simply telling you a package had been delivered to your home.

“How?” Your mind felt as if it was running in circles but also slowing down at the same time.

Poppernak’s head snapped in your direction but you immediately walked away from the scene. You didn’t notice the deputy watch after you and then head in Hoyt’s direction. 

“Stroke.” Your aunt was only willing to give you one word but that one word changed your entire world. It altered the landscape of your universe in a big way.

You nodded, forgetting that the woman couldn’t see you, and you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You forced your gaze onto some trees ahead and mentally told yourself that you would not cry. “Oh,” you choked out. So much for not allowing any emotion to bleed through.

“Yep.”

Once again, very bland, almost dry. You weren’t surprised, though. It had always been like this between you. “Um…did they say when the services will—”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet but the information will be on the obituary online. It’ll probably tell people who can’t make it where to send flowers.” And just like that, the digs began.

You ignored her attitude and quietly cleared your throat. “Okay,” you attempted to smooth over. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Ida. If there’s anything you need, please call m—”

“Oh, I’ll call you, don’t you worry. But right now, as it stands, we’re good. I have to get going. I still have to get to the funeral home and make all the arrangements. I’ll be talking to you soon.” Before you could say goodbye, she hung up.

You let out a heavy sigh before lowering your phone from your ear. You focused on the trees once more, pushing any thoughts away and stuffing your emotions back down. When you felt confident enough that you wouldn’t break, you turned to find Hoyt and Poppernak watching you worriedly from near the crime scene tape. You sighed once more and then began your walk over to answer the burning questions they appeared to have. 

You were driving back home on autopilot, lost in a sea of memories that forced a single tear out onto your cheek every now and then, prompting you to wipe each one away quickly. Your phone began to ring and as you expected, Beau’s name popped up. Well, that had to be some kind of record for Hoyt. Though, you supposed in these circumstances, you couldn’t blame her and you could appreciate her difficult position. She was only supposed to call Beau if there was an emergency but if she didn’t let him know that she sent you home for the rest of the day after receiving the news of a loved one’s passing, then she’d most likely be in hot water. In trouble with you or in trouble with Beau? It wasn’t hard to see why she made the choice she did. 

Beau was on vacation and you hated for that to be interrupted, especially due to this. He worked his ass off every single day and he deserved this time. He had offered to take Cassie and Kai fishing and camping, after the date passed that the two were supposed to have gone with her dad who had been killed. Kai was excited and Cassie was grateful when Beau made the offer. You and Hoyt were happy for them. Beau had even tried to entice Emily to fly up for a visit and go with them, but Carla put a quick stop to that with the mention of school and it being Emily’s senior year. To say Beau had been disappointed was a massive understatement.

And now, he was most likely spending his time worrying about you alongside teaching Kai how to catch trout and attempting to keep Cassie laughing and her spirits high. You almost didn’t answer, because you didn’t want to be one more thing he had to worry about and also because you didn’t feel like talking, but in the end you did. To reassure him if for nothing else.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he greeted back, sounding worried just like you had predicted. “You okay?”

You briefly closed your eyes in annoyance at Hoyt. Despite your initial understanding, this really wasn’t something she needed to call him about. Someone else, yes, but for you, no. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassured him. “Hoyt just thought it best that I take the rest of the day, clear my head, and come back fresh tomorrow. That’s all.”

A moment of quiet passed between you as he likely mulled over your answer. Accepting it, he then offered, “Do you need anything?”

You cleared your throat to keep the lump at bay. “Nope. Thanks, though.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who passed?”

You pressed your lips together, not really wanting to answer, but he’d find out eventually. “My grandmother.”

Sure enough, his tone softened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He knew how deeply this one would cut.

You swallowed past the lump again and forced out quietly, “Thanks, but it’s fine. It was expected at some point, you know?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t make it any easier though, does it?” Beau lost his parents back when you had worked together in Houston. His dad had passed unexpectedly due to a heart attack. Everyone had been shocked, of course, but it hit Beau’s mom the hardest. It wasn’t too long after that when she started developing her own health issues and began declining. Beau’s father had only been gone for a year and a half when he lost his mom as well. You and your unit were there for him, giving him your unending support, and half of the department had showed up to the funeral, just as they had the senior Mr. Arlen’s. Not only was Beau well liked and respected but his family were no strangers to law enforcement; his dad had served on the force for decades before he finally retired. 

What you were feeling now in no way rivaled the loss he had endured back then. He not only had lost a parent, but he lost both in a short time frame. You couldn’t imagine how you would be feeling had that been you. You doubted you would be able to stand up much less continue to function day to day like he had. You wished you could borrow some of his strength, something you could use right about now.

“True.”

Another moment of quiet filled the car tainted by uncertainty and an almost alien awkwardness. That wasn’t the norm for the two of you but this situation also wasn’t the norm. Being your best friend and having known you for a long time, Beau knew some of your history but not all of it. What little you had told him had been enough for him to know this wasn’t a topic you liked to revisit and he needed to leave well enough alone. So he’d happily compensate and regale you with funny stories of the hijinks he and his brother used to get up to when they were younger instead. He didn’t push for more than you were willing to give and that was something you deeply appreciated about him.

And right now, you appreciated him even more for not pressing you for details or trying to make small talk around the huge elephant that was currently sitting on top of you. An elephant in the form of your grandmother, an elderly woman who helped raise you who you had a…complicated relationship with to say the least. You tried to think back to one of the last times you had seen her but you really couldn’t remember. The memory was there somewhere, on the edge of your mind, just out of reach. Instead, a memory resurfaced of a younger you holding onto her hand as you crossed a busy crosswalk in the city, wearing one of your best dresses with tights, shoes, a very proper coat with gold buttons done up, and a ribbon in your long hair. You had been on your way to see a play that she managed to get tickets for and you remembered that moment of her immediately shielding you as a car nearly hit you both, ignoring the traffic light as well as all of the pedestrians crossing. You couldn’t remember the heated exchange between her and the driver of the yellow cab, but you did remember her hurrying you to safety and then kneeling down to check that you were okay. You could see the determination in her light eyes shadowed by a layer of fear as she did up the top two buttons of your fancy coat and smoothed a hand down your hair. She had protected you and basically saved your life. The memory shocked you with its reappearance; you hadn’t thought about that one in a long time. You had to have been around six years old when that happened.  

Beau cleared his throat quietly. “Listen, I’m on my way back.”

That jerked you out of your reverie. “What? No, Beau, don’t. I’m fine. You’re on vacation and so is Cassie. Kai was excited to go on this trip, don’t cut it short. I appreciate it but I’d rather your plans didn’t get interrupted.”

“I already talked to Cassie and she’s in agreement. We’re heading back. She talked to Kai and he understands. We’re going to try this again next month.”

The guilt was thick inside your chest. He had been trying for a while now to get Cassie to agree to a fishing trip with him, and he’d only just convinced her. “Beau…”

“Already done,” he assured you. “We’re packing up now actually. Besides, you’re going to need some time and Hoyt’s going to need backup.”

“I told you, I’m fine and I’ll be back to work tomorrow. You don’t have to—”

“You’re going to need the time for the services. Any idea on when they might be yet?”

You pressed your lips together and glanced in your rearview mirror. “Not yet.”

He heard what you weren’t saying. “Well, it just happened. Give ‘em some time and they’ll sort it out,” he offered gently.

“Yeah,” you muttered. 

“You set up a flight yet?”

You shook your head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see you. “No.”

“I should be back later tonight. I’ll come over and help you sort all of that out.”

It hit you in that moment that Beau was going to be seeing you in a few hours’ time. A part of you was relieved but another part of you wasn’t ready to let him in just yet. Not that you didn’t trust him (he was the person you trusted most actually) and not that he didn’t know how to be there for you, but something was stopping you from letting him.

“You’re going to be back late. How about you just stop by in the morning on your way to the office?”

You didn’t need to see Beau to know he was taken aback at your suggestion. “It’s not going to be that late,” he tried again. “I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, I could just stay at your place for the night. It’d be a shorter drive for me to the station tomorrow.” 

You knew it would be and you knew he was just looking out for you, being there for you should you need him, but weirdly, that was the last thing you wanted right now. “I appreciate it, but it’s going to be a long drive and you still need to drop Cassie off. I’ll look up flights when I get home. You just focus on driving and let me know when you made it back okay.”

“Y/N—”

“Someone is calling me from a New York number. It could be important. I have to go. Drive safe, alright?” 

“Darlin’, just—”

“Thank you for calling, Beau. It means a lot.” You meant that last part, you really did. You quickly disconnected the call before he could speak again. There was no call from New York, of course, and you know he knew that, but you just needed a second to think. You put your phone on silent and continued the drive to the small house you had put a down payment on when Beau had convinced you to move here to join him about a year or so before.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, feeling majorly conflicted. You wanted nothing more than one of Beau’s comforting hugs but at the same time, you didn’t want to be touched or comforted. You didn’t want anyone’s awkward condolences like Hoyt had offered you earlier after Poppernak told her you might have received some kind of bad news. You didn’t want to talk or cry or try to distract yourself from reality in any way, shape, or form. You wanted to just be. 

And considering where you would be flying to in the next twenty four hours, you needed as much time to process and compartmentalize as you could get.

There was no processing or compartmentalizing happening. Your brain was a chaotic mess at best. Your thoughts were all over the place, same with your emotions, and yet somehow you still felt numb and in shock. 

Not only did memories play on a loop inside your head but you could not form one single coherent thought. You had walked past your full sink of dishes at least four times before you remembered you were going to stack them in the dishwasher. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, preferring your usual coffee, and you had to eat something now that it was late afternoon so you could satiate the loudly rumbling hungry beast known as your stomach. You barely tasted the food or the beer you chose to wash it down with. 

At some point, you had pulled out a shoebox you kept carefully hidden away in a closet and began to go through old photos you kept stashed alongside a few Christmas and birthday cards over the years. You studied your grandmother in each photo and whether it was a blessing or a curse, you weren’t sure which yet, you could hear her voice and even her laughter in your mind. You could hear her yelling, too, but your brain pushed those memories away, knowing you weren’t ready to deal with that just yet.

You came across one picture of the two of you. You were in high school and had just received an award. You two were standing outside of the school and neither of you were embracing or smiling too widely. One of your aunts had asked you both to take the picture, to mark the special occasion, but the truth was, you two had been arguing most of the day, practically up until the ceremony. Just one of the many arguments you both had over the years where you didn’t see eye to eye.

You dug deeper into the box until you pulled out a special group of photos in an envelope. You took a sip of beer, a deep breath, and then opened it. These were pictures of your parents, gone in a freak accident when you were barely kindergarten age. You smiled down at the photos of the two of them with a baby version of you. No matter where you were or who took the picture, all of you appeared to be happy. Sadly, you didn’t remember those times too much, the memories too hazy and existing on that fine line between reality and fantasy. You only remembered the sorrow, the pain, and the devastation their sudden absence left. 

You came across a photo of you and your mother, but this time, your grandmother was also included. You must have been two years old and you were grinning widely from your mother’s lap at the older woman who smiled brightly back at you. You had even reached out your hands to her, almost as if you had been asking her to pick you up. You stared hard at the picture, almost as if trying to remember that exact moment in time so you could then remember the feeling.

Your phone ringing loudly made you jump and jerked you out of your concentration. You placed the photo down and sighed. You had put your phone back on when you arrived home a few hours ago and though he hadn’t called, Beau had sent you a few texts. It was more of him offering to come over, to be there for you, and to help with anything you needed. You had immediately swiped the notifications off of your screen; you couldn’t deal with that or anything else right now. You appreciated it but you just needed some time…some space actually. Just until you could get your head on straight. 

You picked your phone up and glanced at the screen, surprised to see your cousin’s name flashing back at you.

Your brows furrowed and you immediately picked up the call. “Lucy? What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” she greeted you though her usual cheery voice lacked its usual enthusiasm. While you didn’t keep in touch with most of your family, Lucy had been the exception. You weren’t close by any means but her texts and calls didn’t always go ignored. “Aunt Ida said she called you today to tell you about Gran. How are you holding up?”

You shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I guess. How are you doing?” Lucy had been just as close with the grandmother you shared while growing up but she had also stayed within the family unit while you bolted. She and her husband, John, even purchased a home two blocks away from where your grandmother lived. 

“Um, I’m okay,” she sighed into the phone. “It’s sad and not the way we expected but we all kind of knew it was coming.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, taking another sip of beer. 

“I know it might sound horrible to say but it’s kind of a relief. For Gran, I mean. She’s no longer suffering. You know, after the past couple of years…”

You felt a familiar surge of guilt start up in your chest again, and a burning feeling began in the corners of your eyes. “Yeah,” you repeated. You both stayed quiet for a moment, each thinking back to Gran’s initial diagnosis of Alzheimer’s more than five years ago and how it had quickly progressed, especially during the pandemic years. 

Lucy finally broke the silence. “So, um, I was just wondering if you were going to be flying in tomorrow.”

Your brows mashed together again. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah. For the visitation the next day.”

Your head began to whirl. Perhaps it was the beer and you had misheard her. Though, you had only had two, maybe in conjunction with what you were feeling, you weren’t thinking straight. “Wait, wait. The visitation is the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Luy sounded unsure why you were asking. “And the funeral will be the next morning. That’s why I was thinking you would probably be flying in tomorrow.”

“Aunt Ida told me that she had no idea when the services would be yet but she would let me know.”

“Oh.”

You could practically hear her nerves through the phone. “Lucy,” you warned. “When were the plans finalized?”

“Um…”

“Lucy.”

“Yesterday?” She nearly squeaked out.

That hit you like a gut punch. “Yesterday? I thought Gran just died this morning!”

Now you could really hear the nervousness in Lucy’s voice. “She, um, she passed on Monday morning.”

The fury working its way through your veins felt like molten fire. “Today is Wednesday!”

Lucy knew better than to answer that. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I thought Aunt Ida explained when she said she spoke to you this morning. She was dealing with a lot and—”

“--couldn’t be bothered to tell me, I get it. But why didn’t you call me?” The tears building were practically burning your pupils. Your grandmother had passed away two days ago and no one could be bothered to tell you.

“I-I wanted to, Y/N. I really did but, Aunt Ida said—”

Your jaw tensed and you nearly slammed your bottle down on the floor next to you as you got to your feet, all too certain what Aunt Ida had said. While Lucy was a kinder soul than most in your biological family, she also lacked a backbone when it came to your older female relatives.

“Forget it,” you hissed, roughly wiping away tears that had escaped down your cheeks. “I’ll be arriving tomorrow. Is the obituary up or was she bullshitting me on that one, too?”

“N-No, they just posted it today. It’s actually quite nice. I think you’ll—”

“Send me the link,” you ordered before you hung up and quickly began scanning available flights as you hurried into your bedroom to begin packing.   

It was late when you landed, your flight having been slightly delayed. Not that it mattered to you; if you could have delayed the flight altogether, you would have. But that wasn’t possible and neither was you staying in Helena. As angry as you were, you refused to let it keep you from doing the right thing. Plus, when you called the station earlier to tell Hoyt you wouldn’t be back until Monday, she had insisted you take the bereavement time available to you (more like ordered you) and see to your family, wishing you well. Normally, you would have put your foot down and flat out refused, content to hole up in a corner of the office and burrow yourself into work, but you knew she was right. You had to attend the services; you owed Gran that much at least.

You nodded a thanks to the cheery but tired flight attendant as she thanked you for flying with their airlines, and ambled down the bridge towards the airport. Thankfully, due to the late hour, there weren’t many people milling about and you were unencumbered from making your way down the escalator towards Baggage Claim. 

While waiting for the carousel to start up, your phone started vibrating. You glanced at the screen, sighing when you saw the name pop up that had been popping up on and off all day.

You immediately rejected the call and slipped your phone back into silent mode. But before you could hit the button, a text snuck its way through to display on your screen.

You felt bad reading the message previews and you certainly weren’t trying to ignore your best friend but you just needed some time to process all of this on your own. You had sent him one quick text earlier telling him not to come by since you wouldn’t be home. You also told him you would call him as soon as you were able. Apparently, he was ignoring that last text going by his several attempts to make contact. You weren’t trying to stonewall him, you really weren’t, but you had to go into this with a clear head. Or as clear a head as you could have in these circumstances. Wasn’t that something he always said before you two went into anything dangerous on the job?

Speaking of the job, it wasn’t that you hadn’t seen your fair share of death, mostly in ghoulish evil ways that people had come up with in order to hurt each other, and it’s not that your grandmother’s passing wasn’t expected to happen at some point like Lucy had said. But you hadn’t been prepared for how you would feel when it did and you certainly hadn’t been prepared for it to happen now.

Conflicting emotions roiled in your head and churned in your stomach. Your empty stomach from that all-too familiar discomfort you’d gotten frequently during your career. The lunch you’d eaten earlier had made a reappearance after Lucy’s phone call. You would have to get some food and soon, but where you would get that at this late hour except a greasy diner, you couldn’t even begin to imagine. Not that it mattered, either. The very thought of food made an altogether different unpleasant sensation roll in your stomach. Emptiness versus nausea…fun.

Eventually, your other suitcase made its way to you and you quickly scooped it up. You ordered a Lyft, scoffing when you noticed the wait time was a half hour, possibly more, for a pickup. How was that even possible? This was an airport! At this rate, you’d be better off taking a cab but that was bound to be pricier than the Lyft. You heaved a great sigh and plopped down on your larger suitcase, resting your chin in your hand as you waited. Eventually, you whipped out your phone and decided to mindlessly scroll through your Instagram. You weren’t a fan of the app or any social media really but Em had made an account for you one day when you had unwisely left your phone sitting on one of Beau’s deck chairs while helping him pack Pedro for a camping trip he was taking her on. You quickly got bored of any new content on your feed, since there weren't any updates from anyone you actually cared about, and swiped over to your profile.

A glimmer of a smile appeared on your face when you saw the picture Em had taken of herself and her dad, posting it for you after she saw your Houston photo and labeled it a semi-pathetic attempt at a first post. Your eyes scanned through your meager posting and the picture of Poppernak that you had taken one day near the end of your shift reminded you why you wouldn’t be working with your beloved partner the next few days. Your smile immediately disappeared and you clicked out of the app, powered down the screen, and slipped the phone into your jacket pocket.

Luckily, only a little while later, your Lyft finally arrived. After loading your suitcases into the back with the driver’s help, you were on your way to the only hotel in town. You stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Your driver, Antonio, had tried to make small talk but thankfully begged off when he noticed you weren’t too talkative, most likely chalking it up to the late flight and you being tired. Familiar landmarks came into view as he turned onto another street and memories started to flood your mind. You shut your eyes, as if to keep them out, and it miraculously held them at bay a little longer. You then settled your gaze on the back of the driver seat, refusing to look out the windows until you arrived at your destination. 

You’d have time enough to wallow in memories and regret the next few days. No reason to rush it. 

As soon as you checked into your hotel room, you immediately jumped in the shower. It always made you feel better after traveling and the flight had felt excruciatingly long this go around. That could have had something to do with you coming from Montana, though. The few flights you’d taken from Texas back in the day had definitely been shorter.

You wrapped yourself in a towel, your damp hair spilling down your back, and started going through one of your suitcases to find body lotion. Once you found the bottle, before you could begin lathering it up in your hands, your phone vibrated on your night stand.

You heaved a sigh and glanced over, seeing you had another missed call from Beau, and yet another text.

You nearly rolled your eyes, knowing he would make good on this threat if you didn’t check in with him at least once before you went to sleep. And that was the last thing you needed right now.

You slipped in your earbuds, hit his name, then the phone icon, and switched it over to bluetooth as you began to moisturize your skin. He answered it in two rings.

“Hey,” he gruffed out before clearing his throat. “About time you called me back.”

You ignored how hearing his voice immediately made your chest feel that little bit lighter and your shoulders release some of the tension you’d been carrying around the past day. “Yeah, well, when someone threatened to put a BOLO on my ass, I responded real quick. That’s all I need, this town’s cops pounding on my door, in addition to everything else.” You had meant it to come out teasingly but your voice had betrayed your aggravation. You regretted it the moment the words were out of your mouth. You knew Beau was just worried about you, that he cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were alright. In all fairness, you could have at least sent him a text to let him know you landed but you were tired and didn’t feel like talking. He would have understood. He wasn’t the asshole in this scenario; you were.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered gently and you could hear the genuine remorse in his tone. “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time but damn, Y/N, not one single text to let me know you’re still alive?”

You flinched at the last word and started applying the lotion more aggressively. You were eager to be done with this call, with everything, so you could crash and finally get some much needed shut-eye. You hadn’t slept much in the past forty eight hours, probably stress from the job (it happened sometimes), and you were feeling it.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have said that.” More remorse.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, popping the cap on the bottle closed and placing it on the nightstand. “Well, now that you know that I’m fine, no BOLO’s are necessary.”

“Y/N, I didn’t—”

You knew you didn’t really have a right to be angry with him but you also didn’t have the bandwidth for dealing with anyone or anything right now. You appreciated his concern and him checking on you, but all you wanted to do was hit the sack and evade consciousness for a few hours. “Listen, it’s super late, I just got in because it was a late flight and delayed at that. I’m exhausted. So if we could…” You left it open-ended, hoping he’d just take the hint and say goodnight.

You heard some rustling on the other end and you realized he must have been in bed already when you called. You quickly glanced at the alarm clock and thought over the time difference. It wasn’t even 10:30 yet back in Helena and Beau was already going to sleep for the night? That was odd. Then again, he was now a deputy sheriff down and Hoyt would need the backup in case something came up. Plus, you knew he had cut his vacation short to rush back to Helena. He was probably just as exhausted as you were, possibly more so. “Y/N… You’re not shutting down on me, are you?”

You practically did a double take at the question. “What? No! I’m not. What, I’m tired and want to go to sleep after the long day I’ve had and that’s suddenly me shutting down on you? Seriously? All because I didn’t answer a few texts or pick up one of your many phone calls?” You had no idea why but that question majorly pissed you off. The logical part of you knew you were overreacting to a genuinely concerned question from your best friend but your temper seemed to be off to the races; you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I get that you’re a grade A worry-er and everything but I’m not some goddamn child you need to check up on every ten minutes for Christ’s sake!” In your rush of anger, you hadn’t even realized just how much your voice had raised. Not until there was a deafening silence in the room and on the other end once you finished your little tirade.

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate that you were, darlin’,” he spoke calmly.

“Don’t you darlin’ me. Don’t you dare patronize me with that shit, Arlen. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare.” Your chest felt immediately tight again and tension filled your body once more. You huffed out an angry breath and decided the best thing for you to do in this situation was to end the call as soon as possible. “Look, you wanted to know I’m still alive, now you know. I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me and texting me all the time while I’m here and threatening me when you don’t hear back from me right away. That’s the last fucking thing I need on top of everything else,” you snapped.

Beau remained quiet but you could still hear his breathing on the other end so you knew he was listening to your ranting.

“Now, I’m going to bed. I appreciate the check in but it’s unnecessary. When the services are over and I’m going to head back, I’ll let you know.”

Still nothing.

“Good night, Beau.” You hung up and angrily tossed your phone onto the bed with your earbuds before heading back to the bathroom so you could blow dry your hair.

You thought over the entire conversation. You felt slightly bad that you had lost your temper with him when he was just making sure you were okay but God, you didn’t need that right now. What you needed was to get through the next few days so you could return to your life, your normal routine, as fast as possible. The best way you could do that was to keep going, not allowing yourself time to think, and get this done.

A twinge of guilt surged in your chest when you had that thought. You hadn’t meant anything disrespectful towards your grandmother or to insinuate that you didn’t care that she had died when you were thinking that. It was just…things were already going to be difficult, if your Aunt Ida’s attitude on the phone had been any indication as well as her behavior so far. If it hadn’t been for Lucy’s call earlier and the obituary link she texted you, you wouldn’t have even known when the services were going to be so you could grab the first flight out. Yes, things were bound to be difficult and tense until this was over.

You unplugged your hair dryer in a huff and finished getting ready to go to sleep. Beau just needed to give you space. Your life in Montana had nothing to do with anyone or anything here and you were determined to keep it that way. Texas never did despite your few trips back over the years; Big Sky Country wasn’t going to either.

You supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised at the text message notification on your screen when you lit up your phone.

You felt that twinge of guilt again but this time in your heart. Beau hadn’t deserved what you had unleashed on him before. He was a good man and he hadn’t done anything wrong. You were mentally kicking yourself as you hurriedly dressed for bed and snuggled under the sheets. You stared at your screen, your thumb hovering over his name, the desire strong within you to call him and apologize. You yearned to hear his voice one more time, even if it was just him talking and you listening, him giving you hell for the things you had said in anger earlier. Hell, you almost wished he was here with you so you could fold yourself into his arms and burrow into his chest, letting his Texan drawl wash over your ear as he assured you everything would be alright. And you could stay there as long as you wanted, safe and comforted, not having to face the world or how it had changed so drastically for you with one phone call.

After a minute of indecision, you decided to let things be, get some rest, and then call him tomorrow to apologize when you were a little more clear-headed. And God, you hoped you would be more clear-headed. You powered down your screen and turned the light off, getting into a more comfortable position. You closed your eyes and tried to let the silence settle over you to start lulling you into sleep. 

A few minutes passed by of you unsuccessfully getting your mind to stop racing, constantly replaying your phone call with Beau, the phone call from your aunt, what Lucy’s call revealed (though you shouldn’t have been surprised), what you would be facing come tomorrow, and everything that entailed. Almost as if it was a track on repeat. Finally, you let out a loud huff and reached for the TV remote, turning the television on. You channel surfed until you landed on a rerun of The Golden Girls. You tried to get into the episode; the series was an old favorite that you loved. But when you saw Sophia talking to her granddaughter, you winced and decided that the show wasn’t for you right now. You continued to click through channels until you found an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. The minute Marie walked through the youngest Barone’s household, giving her daughter-in-law a glare, you let out another wince. You finally settled on The Weather Channel and stared at the screen while the woman talked about the highs and lows expected for the next week in the area. You noticed that rain showers were being forecast for the day of the burial. How apt. And just like that, you knew your brain wasn't going to let you get any rest.

You sighed and tossed the remote away from you and rubbed your hands down your tired face. So much for sleeping.

The next day, you arrived at a familiar red-colored house with white trim, stepping up onto the old wooden porch. You could already hear a low buzz coming from inside as voices batted back and forth in conversation mixed with the sounds of young children running around and playing. One voice stuck out to you from all the rest and it made you tense up. A part of you wanted to turn around and retreat back to your hotel room.

You briefly closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No. You were not going to avoid this. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You could do this. You would do this. You were an adult now, you had your own life, and you were a deputy sheriff for Christ’s sake. You dealt with dead bodies, assaults, and much scarier criminals every single day. You refused to turn around and leave with your head hanging down.

As if to ensure you wouldn’t be able to leave, without your permission, your hand lifted and gave two confident raps on the front door. You could hear the chatter pause long enough that you knew they had heard the sounds. You straightened up and squared your shoulders, making sure you were holding your head high just like you did during work hours. It was a silly fleeting thought but you almost wished you were wearing your badge on your belt, having it near as some layer of invisible protection.

Before you could scoff internally at yourself, the door yanked open and there stood the older woman you hadn’t wanted to deal with. You hadn’t seen her in years and while her sandy hair was mixed with more gray and her face sported a few more lines resulting in an even harsher scowl than you remembered, the dark eyes full of contempt whenever they focused on you remained the same. 

You didn’t smile, tear up, or surge forward for a hug, and neither did she. “Aunt Ida,” you greeted. 

“Y/N,” she replied icily. “So you decided to show up for the services after all?”

You could feel your teeth set on edge but you schooled your features. You weren’t going to let her little digs get at you and you would be damned to let her see it if they somehow did. You weren’t fourteen anymore. “I did. Mind if I come in?”

Her beady eyes gave you a once over and she practically sneered before stepping back and opening the door a little wider. Not exactly a warm invitation but an invitation nonetheless. You gave her a nod and took it, ignoring the tiny snort of derision she let out as you did.

You sat uncomfortably on the old couch that you had hated as a kid. Aunt Ida had insisted this couch was for entertaining, not for young children to watch television on or jump on or do anything on really. The seat was practically as rigid as your aunt.

You silently wondered what Beau was up to now as a temporary means of mentally escaping this situation. You had tried to call him before you came over here but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little hurt and a little let down that you hadn’t been able to speak with him. He had told you to call him anytime, that he was there for you despite the harsh words you had launched at him the previous night, but the one time you actually tried to reach out, he hadn’t been available. You hadn’t been prepared for the beep of the voicemail, signaling you to talk, and you ended up leaving him the most awkward message you had ever left someone. “Hey. It’s me. …I’m sorry. Call me back when you get this, okay? Or if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll understand, but…it would be really nice to hear your voice. Well…you know what I mean. Anyway, just call me back…if you want.” That had been four hours ago. And granted, he was three hours behind you now, but you knew he would already be up, getting ready for the day. So why was his phone off?

You had chastised yourself out loud after hanging up the phone, telling yourself that he was probably in the middle of something for a case that he got called in on overnight and couldn’t be disturbed. How many times did you have to do the same? You had scowled at yourself in the bathroom mirror while putting the finishing touches on your foundation. “What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N? You need to get a fucking grip.” In perhaps an immature move that you were glad no one else was around to witness, you stuck your tongue out at yourself and shook your head, muttering “Stop being such an asshole already”, and walked out the door.

And now you were here, in the house you didn’t really want to be in, surrounded by people that you didn’t really want to be around. Well, perhaps that last thought was harsh. There was really only one person you didn’t really want to see and she had been the one to let you in the door.

You quickly glanced around the room you were in, noting not much had changed since you had been here last, when you had left this town in your rearview mirror and didn’t look back. Even the scent you hated as a child was still the same: a mix of old lady perfume and stale cookies. You could feel nausea starting up in your stomach but thankfully you hadn’t eaten anything before you came here. 

Your Uncle Mason, who sat on your right, gave you a tight smile when he noticed you surveying the room. 

“Still looks the same, huh?” He offered.

“Exactly the same,” you agreed without looking at him.

Your cousin, Lucy, sat in the stiff armchair on your left and looked around as well, smiling. “I like that it hasn’t changed since we were kids. A lot of good memories happened here.” 

Your gaze dropped to the oak coffee table that still had the scratch in it from when you were a child and didn’t know any better. That was one of your countless infractions your aunt had held against you. “Yeah, good memories,” you muttered. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mason tense a little and Lucy fidgeting nervously.

You all heard Aunt Ida finish up her conversation and hang up the old handset before she made her way into the room. “That was the funeral home. There was an issue with the plot next to Dad but it’s been resolved.”

“What kind of issue?” Uncle Mason asked.

“Payment,” Aunt Ida spat out as she sat down before turning a fresh glare on you. “I hope you’re not here thinking there’s any money waiting for you and that’s why you decided to show up.”

You nearly ground your teeth together but forced yourself to remain calm. “Of course not. I’m here for Gran.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Only took her dying, right?”

Lucy struggled to her feet, her round belly acting as an obstacle, but she managed. “You know, I don’t hear the kids anymore. I’m going to go check on them and be right back.” She then hurried out of the room; if she could have run, you bet she would be sprinting towards the backyard her kids had been urged out into when you had arrived. You couldn’t blame her. You would be, too.

“Ida,” Mason attempted to admonish his sister. “Now is not the time.”

“Then when is it?” She snapped, making Mason shrink back, before she turned her scowl back onto you. “Why else would you show up? It’s not like you came when she needed help, when we all needed help with her. You didn’t visit her once while she was in the nursing home. Not once when she was in the hospital.”

Your jaw tensed and you felt the familiar twinge of guilt deep within. “You told me not to come, Aunt Ida,” you reminded her.

She barked out a laugh. “Is that how you heard it?”

“That’s how I heard it because that’s exactly how you said it.” You didn’t look away when she was slightly taken aback by your reply. You refused to back down from this one. You reminded yourself that you were no longer a child; you were a grown woman who didn’t have to take her shit anymore. You were no longer dependent on her or anyone else in this family for anything though when you were, she had only been too happy to make you feel like crap for it every single day of your existence.

The woman shook her head, laughing at you. “Right. You’re some big shot cop now, right? Too good for us lowly citizens.” She smirked over at Mason in collusion, though her brother was shaking his head, refusing to meet her gaze. That angered her further and the glare she settled on you was worse than before. “It’s obvious why you’re really here. Like I said, there’s no money for you. Anything she had left went to the payments for the nursing home and her funeral. And what she had left was pretty much nothing. So if you came here expecting a payout from her will, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” 

You lifted your chin slightly higher in defiance of her accusations. “And like I said, Aunt Ida, I didn’t come here for anything other than to pay my respects to Gran, and to help where I can.” Your voice softened a little at the thought of your grandmother. “She would have wanted that.”

The other woman scoffed once more but didn’t say more due to the doorbell ringing. 

“I’ll get it,” Mason hurried to offer and then nearly rushed from the room, leaving you and Ida in one hell of a glaring contest.

“I’m only trying to do right by Gran,” you assured her.

“Too little, too late,” she hissed.

You unclenched your jaw and took a quiet breath. “Yeah,” you reluctantly agreed. “Suppose you’re right.” Right then and there you decided that once you were back in Montana, you would sever all ties, this time permanently. You owed nothing to this woman or to any of them, regardless of any blood you shared. The one person you might have owed something to once upon a time was no longer alive. If anything, you were being quickly reminded why you had left this house all those years ago and hadn’t come back.

Ida harrumphed and continued to shake her head.

You were about to stand and leave, having had more than enough in this one little exchange with your aunt, and tell her to call you if she or anyone needed anything before the wake, when Mason returned and a familiar figure filled the entryway to the room. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

There stood the very man you had been trying to get a hold of earlier, giving you one of his warm smiles. You could see slight rings of shadow underneath his eyes that were similar to yours that you had been sporting this morning before using concealer. Exhaustion lined his face but so did relief. His green eyes that were centered on you softened slightly and in that moment, you knew everything that had happened the night before had been forgiven. He was here, for you.

You didn’t remember making the decision to move when you hurried over to him, Mason barely able to get out of your way before you launched yourself at Beau who immediately wrapped his arms around you, practically picking you up off the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut to keep any tears from coming out and burrowed into his neck, happy to breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne. No one said anything and for that you were grateful. You didn’t want anything to shatter the one good moment you’d had in the past two days.

Eventually, when you felt like you wouldn’t break down in tears and you had yourself under pretty good control, you choked out in a whisper, “You’re here.”

“Damn right I am, darlin’,” he confirmed into your ear, making you smile as you heard that Texan drawl you loved so much. The tension in his body relaxed though his hold on you did not. You felt him press a kiss to your hair before hugging you even tighter. “I’m here.”

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this mini series.

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AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @adhduck

Please give it up for the nicest and one of the most creative writers in this fandom: Duck! I'm just such a fan because not only does Duck manage to write the softest, gentlest, loveliest Ed and Stede (both together and apart), their fics somehow perpetually keep me looking like 🥹 all the time ough. And they were very very nice about sharing their writing process with me:

What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?

Mostly it’s the Taika “look at a document for 8 hours and then close the document,” honestly. I’m a very slow writer and lose motivation very easily, so I mostly get by on the muse’s fire hydrant and forcing myself to write those fifty words even when every single one feels so bad.

I go moooostly beginning to end because even though I’m generally an outliner, I always end up with little details that will affect later scenes and I don’t wanna lose continuity or have to rewrite a bunch. However, I do definitely let myself do a [finish this scene later] and move on to the next scene because otherwise I will get really fucking stuck, and sometimes I’ll write a line or a paragraph I thought of that sounds really good and tuck it away for a later scene.

Favourite trope or headcanon you like to explore while writing?

Ooooooooh, I don’t know if this is a trope but there’s just nothing I love more than huge feelings contained in mundane stories, of feelings so big you can’t actually express them and so they’re this constant hum throughout the story. I also love writing about touch for both of them, how Ed gives casual touch to hide the deep well of desire for intimate touch, how Stede is so unused to touch and craves it so deeply. (Can you tell I just really like subtle yet overwhelming emotions? Maybe it’s the aroace in me idk but that shit hits HARD.) Oh, and I love a fuckin’ allegory or object to discuss all those big feelings, whether it’s monsters or gardening or peaches or what the fuck ever (I have used all of these lol).

Whose voice is easier to write - Ed or Stede? Why?

I think Ed’s voice comes to me faster because the way I personally speak is closer to Ed’s voice, but it also means I’m sometimes double-checking myself to make sure I’m still deep in his voice, not my-voice-but-Ed. Stede isn’t necessarily harder for me, I’m just doing all that double-checking to make sure I’m not slipping into Ed voice or, god forbid, Aziraphale-lite voice. So, idk! I love writing them both, the little details of each of their inner dialogues are SO important to me (Ed’s tangents and his pshh-I-don’t-care moments, Stede actively avoiding thinking about things he doesn’t want to face, etc etc etc).

Your personal favourite thing you've written that you'd like more people to read

For the longest time it was There is Love That Doesn’t Have a Place to Rest, mostly because it was posted the day before another fic and, while I find them to be siblings and equal quality,  the other one got way more attention. That fic is about the time between signing the Act of Grace and getting to the academy and I think I really nailed where the two of them are at.

However! (And I know this is cheating okay shh.) Nowadays the one that I wish people read the most is Not Only the Sugar, But the Days. It’s the sequel to my “offscreen 30 year slowburn friends to lovers finally get together” fic and I put my whole fucking heart into it, honestly. The two boys basically go on a bunch of dates to live out the teenage experiences they never got together and work through the biggest feelings and I just! Really want people to see it! (It also can be read as a standalone, which I didn’t advertise super well lol.)

What is the one word that you think you use a lot?

Unfortunately it’s probably “just” or “a little” or filler words like that. Also obviously if the word fuck counts then, yeah, that. Maybe warm? Or something about yearning??? If I have a classic word please tell me I’m fascinated by this idea.

Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?

The person who beta’s for basically all my fics is Owen @trans-top-stede and they are sooooo fucking helpful and incredible. So good at catching all the little things I miss, making sex scenes make sense, reminding me positioning in general is a thing, cheerleading me on, etc etc etc. My fics are so much better for their help.

Why OFMD 🥹

Ed and Stede just fit so fucking well into all sorts of AU’s (they try to invent their own AU’s in canon, even) while also having so much fun space to explore within canon. Their range is also perfect perfect perfect for writing fics—they can be in the wells of misery and fluffy as fuck and obnoxiously cheesy and realistic all in the same fic, if you want, and it’s completely accurate to their canon selves. It’s also helped me to embrace being silly and cheesy and earnest because life is about being yourself and finding your people and feeling deeper, feeling bigger, feeling more authentically without fear of being too much. Fuck I just really love these boys. (Also they’re so pretty and the whole crew’s so pretty we WON.)

Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters (who also made the header) and send your love to all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 10

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: smut (oral/m receiving), talks of period intercourse, detailed PTSD flashback, graphic death of character discussed, self-deprecating talk, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Author's Note: This is a heavy chapter--- Big time PTSD flashback so consider yourself warned! Also, I purposely chose to not use characters in the flashback from the movie Sand Castle. I just didn’t want to kill off anyone’s fave character, so we are going to pretend this flashback was another mission from another deployment right before Sy retired not related to the movie. It was just easier for my conscious to write it that way. 

Part 9

All night long I have nightmares about the war. I wake and try to reset myself like the therapist taught me with deep breathing, water, change of environment, etc.; but nothing is working. I maybe only get about 2 hours of sleep total and I’m exhausted. I still go on my run to try and exhaust myself even more so that maybe tonight I will pass out into a dreamless sleep. I try to fake enthusiasm for whatever Nana is rambling on about in her phone call to me on the way to work but I’m sure she can tell that I’m starting to spiral. Alex can tell that today is one of those days so he asks me if I’m good and when I grunt at him he keeps his distance. God, I’m an ass but I’m obviously not good and I just can’t talk to him about it. Nobody really understands except the boys that I was with when it happened and several of them are dead now. I’m supposed to be their leader and I feel like I should have my shit together. My nightmares continue to worsen throughout the week and I feel like I overcompensate by working harder or exerting myself in more difficult physical pursuits in hopes of tiring my body and my brain out. I forced myself to run four additional miles on Friday even though my leg quickly protested. I focused on pushing through the pain and ended up having to ice my leg after work.

Friday evening finally rolls around, and Emma shows up at the house as planned with a little overnight bag in tow and homemade banana pudding. I’m cooking us some chicken and veggies out back on the grill when she arrives and I feel like I calm a bit just being in her presence. She still looks absolutely adorable as she shows up wearing comfortable clothes-a tank top and soft shorts. I love that she’s feeling relaxed enough with me to just be her most authentic self. After we eat, I fill my belly up with her decadent dessert and I swear I see stars. She’s quite the chef; as if she needed any more of a direct line to my belly or my heart. Assuming she’s still on her period, I ask her if she’s feeling alright and she nods but doesn’t offer more. I suggest we get in bed and watch a movie and she gleefully agreed. We get all cozied up in bed and she chooses a rom-com to put on. Not my first choice, but I’ll do anything to make her smile like that. It’s nice having someone other than myself warm my bed. We fall asleep easily tangled in each other and I’m relieved that I have no nightmares. Maybe Emma is the cure to my nightmares? Or did I really succeed in tiring myself out enough that I slept too hard to dream. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Saturday morning. I wake up at my usual time and smile to myself at finally getting a decent night of sleep. I lay in bed watching my girl dream before I decide to get up and go for a run. If it’s the exercise that helped me sleep last night, I’m not going to miss the opportunity to do it again. I leave a little note on Emma’s nightstand and decide to only run two miles today so I don’t fuck up my leg more than I probably already have. When I get back home, Emma is still a mess of hair and sheets and I can tell that she never missed me. Her hair is halfway across her face, one of her breasts is almost spilling out of her twisted tank top, and the covers are tangled all in her legs which brings a smile to my face. For someone so effortlessly beautiful, she’s kind of a mess when she sleeps and I can’t help but find that to be one of the most endearing things ever. I attempt to take a quick shower and am surprised when ice cold hands wrap around my stomach as my eyes are closed under the spray of the water and I jump like a cat. 

“Damn woman! Your hands are ice cubes.” I say as she laughs uncontrollably.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She says as she hugs me from behind. 

“I woke up and heard the shower running so I figured you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.” 

“Always, join me Sugar. My favorite showers are the ones with you.” I tell her as I turn around to see her. She’s got her beautiful hair tied up in a bun on top of her head and I shift her so that the water runs down her body to warm her up. I spy her adjust the temperature higher and I can’t help myself.

“What is it with women taking showers equivalent to the heat of lava?” She smiles.

“We are colder than you are. Gotta warm up somehow.” She presses a sweet kiss to my lips before turning around and washing her body. I can’t help but stand there like a creep watching her but I’ll never turn down an opportunity to see her wet and soapy.

“I hope you don’t mind that I hijacked your shower.” She smiled sweetly.

“Darlin’, I was done anyway. Now I’m just here for the show.” I arch my eyebrow at her as she spies my obvious erection.

“Let me help you.” She seductively suggests.

“I can help us both.” I offer but she shakes her head.

“Still on my period.” She replies without making eye contact.

“So?”

“We can’t have sex when I’m on my period!” She looks completely shocked.

“Says who? You know, sex actually helps relieves cramps.”  

“But..I might get blood on your…”

“Dick? What’s your point?”

“Isn’t that gross?” 

“Sugar, I told ya, I’m a man. A little blood isn’t going to scare me off. Now if you’re not interested because you don’t feel well or you just don’t want too, I have no problem with that. But, if you’re not interested because you think I’m going to be grossed out or something, I promise I won’t be. You can have me anytime you want, Sweetness. There’s no pressure either way. If you’re uncomfortable with it, I won’t mention it again.”

“Maybe give me some time to come around to the idea of it. I’ve never really considered it as an option.”

“Sure thing, babygirl.”

“You are something else, Bear. You mean it when you said I can have you anytime I want?”

“Mmhmm.” I say as her fingertips trail down my abdomen and she wraps her hand around my throbbing cock.

“Can I taste you?”

“Always, but don’t feel like you have too. I’ll be alright if not.”

“I want too.” She says before pushing me towards the shower bench and taking me in her mouth. In no time at all, I’m coming down her throat after receiving one of the best blowjobs of my life. She has my legs trembling from the stimulation and I can’t help but caress her cheek and kiss her gently when I come back to reality.

“my EmKay.” I whisper as I kiss her tenderly.

“Your EmKay?” She asks. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Funny, I don’t remember being asked to be yours.” She haughtily replies.

“Ya’ ain’t going to make this easy on me, are ya?” Shit, what am I doing. I should have thought this through. She shouldn't want to be with me. The unreal blowjob has me not thinking clearly.

“Now why would I do that?” She retorts with a smile. I palm her cheek so that she’s looking right at me.

“Will you be my woman?” I ask seriously. Fuck it. Why not?

“Only if you’re my man.” 

“Well, I’ve been told that I’m a bear, but I’ll be your man too.” I joke before pressing my lips against Emma’s in a feverish kiss.

As the water gets cold, we finally climb out and get dressed for the day. I decide to take Emma out for breakfast at the diner in town before we go in search of furniture for her guest bedroom. Her parents are arriving next weekend and it was adorable when she shyly asked me if I’d be willing to meet them. I assured her that I’d be happy too and to just let me know when.

We spend a few hours at the furniture store where Emma purchases a matching bedroom set before going to a mattress store and trying out all of the mattresses to determine which would be a good purchase for her guest bedroom. They are able to deliver it same day which is nice so we pick a time for it to arrive that afternoon. We then head to a department store so she can pick out curtains, bed linens, and other odds and ends that I’m told a room requires like lamps and decorations. Being a single man for the majority of my adulthood that was mostly away in the military, I didn’t realize how much work women put into buying all of this shit. Why does she need the guest bath towels to match the hand towel in the bathroom? Or all of the little knick-knack items she bought to go on the dresser? I’m even more confused when she was discussing bed trains? No bed skirts. I’ve slept on friends couches without even a blanket but she’s really rolling out the red carpet for her parents. It’s a bit concerning if they are expecting all of this from their daughter who has lived here for under two months. Maybe they don’t expect it and she’s just trying to show them that she’s a capable adult who plans on settling here. I watch as she spends a small fortune trying to get everything in order for their visit. It’s obvious that she values their opinions. What if they don’t like me? I’m certainly different from the preppy type of guy that they’re used to seeing her with. I’m kind of rough around the edges and although I think I’m pretty smart, I certainly don’t hold advanced degrees. I’m broken from my thoughts when Emma asks my opinion about curtains. It’s sweet that she wants my opinion but I’m a fish out of water when it comes to decorating.

We load up all of the stuff and head back to Emma’s house where I get started hanging curtains as we wait on the furniture and mattress delivery. Emma orders us pizza and we munch on pizza and beer for a while. I’m regretting all of my additional workouts after I finally get the bed put together and the mattress put on it. Emma tried to help but she’s so little I didn’t want her to hurt herself so I ended up just man-handling it myself. She had washed the new bedding and put everything together before we took a look at it and she dove across the top of the bed. Emma patted the space beside her and I laid down next to her on top of the comforter. 

“I’m fucking exhausted and I didn’t even lift the heavy stuff.” She exhaled.

“I didn’t realize it was so much work to put together a bedroom. You sure know what you’re doing though.”

“Thank you. I just pick what I like. I couldn’t have done it all without you though, so thank you, baby. I can’t wait to have them visit and see that I’ve got my shit together here. That I’m not some dumb kid who needs rescuing. I’m able to handle myself.” Ahh, so I was right about that. It’s about proving herself to her parents.

“I think they’ll be impressed, Sugar. I know I am.” I smile at her before yawning.

She kisses my lips before scratching my beard gently. 

“Can we go back to yours, shower and then go to sleep? I’m dead on my feet.” She asks as she stands up and fluffs the new pillows. Why are there like 5 pillows that will just get thrown on the floor? Seems wasteful.

“You still want to come back to mine with me?”

She nods. “I want to be with you and the pups. Since they are at yours, it wouldn’t make sense to get them and come back here. I always sleep really good with you…Unless you’re too tired for a sleep over.” She says sheepishly and I wrap my arms around her.

“Nothing could be better than having my girl in my bed with me.” I tell her because I’m beginning to believe it’s the truth. “Let’s go.” 

We turn out all of the lights and lock up before heading back to mine. Emma’s car is still parked out front from where she left it and it makes me happy that she wants to be here with me. There’s a summer storm approaching and the wind has picked up which has Emma’s hair twirling in the breeze. I pull the patio cushions inside when I let the dogs out to do their business. After a quick shower because we are both too tired to do anything but clean ourselves, we do our nighttime routines before climbing into bed. Emma snuggles next to me with her head on my chest and I’m confident that it’s going to be a good night as we drift off to sleep.

It’s hot, but more than just hot. It’s sweltering. I can feel the sweat rolling down my chest and my back. It’s the type of unbearable heat that has your clothes sticking to your skin the instant you walk out of the mess hall. Then you add your gear, and the added weight from your gear plus your sweat soaked clothes is a certain feeling that I’ll never forget. I smell the smoke of an explosion further in the distance. We have our orders and it’s my job to lead our special forces team in to execute our orders exactly like planned. The problem with that is that most things never go as planned. It would be easy for this to be a cookie cutter mission where we get in and out and go back to base and fuck around for the rest of the afternoon. No, this will require me thinking on my feet at every turn. It’s what I’m trained for, hell, I’m the best which is why I’m the captain. I’ve got seven men with me whose lives rely on me assessing our situation and giving correct orders. They are sons, husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends who have people waiting on them at home. Each order I give is weighted by the knowledge that I’m responsible for them. We’re crouched in different positions behind the old dilapidated building that the informant said our guy would be in. The sun is glaring across our faces but we’re in the best position we could be in for this mission. We’ve been after this specific hostile for months and never been this close to him before. We can hear men inside the building, yelling in Arabic and moving around so we must remain completely silent. If we can hear them, they could hear us. We are ghosts that can’t be seen or heard but must work as a team for this to go smoothly. If one person spots us, it will turn into a close-range gun fight that I can’t imagine we will all win. I inhale deeply and even though there is dust on every inch of myself and the ground, I try to focus my thoughts. 

As I am about to give orders to direct my guys to move on to the next step of our plan, I hear the tell-tale whistle of a bullet zipping through the air. I swivel to the left with my gun and look for the insurgent. I can’t see anyone but the bullet buries itself in the left shoulder of Waites across the way from me. We were fucking set up. I swing my gun back around and that’s when it happens, I hear the bullet and feel it explode into my lower left thigh at the same time blood spews from my friend, Goodwin’s head who had crouched beside me when I stood to look for the shooter. My leg gives out and I instantly drop down into the dirt to where I’m level with Goodwin’s face and it’s obvious, he was killed instantly. His eyes are still opened and he has a massive wound to the head. Anthony. Fuck. His girlfriend is expecting a baby girl in a few months. My leg is burning from the inside out but my adrenaline spike helps me ignore the pain and I grab my gun and instantly start shooting towards the rooftop where I believe the sniper might be. I hear Brown screaming before I realize he’s got Waites against the building and is yelling into the radio for help. I watch as insurgents start coming out of the building we were casing and I start taking them out. Lowell goes down. Setas is either hurt or attempting to provide aid to Lowell. I can’t tell but I never stop shooting. Ramirez is also trying to find the source of the ambush with his own gun. Bullets are flying, many from my own gun as I empty the clip into the only building the sniper could have been on, Browns pleas for backup, along with Waites heavy gurgling breaths fill my ears. I feel a hand on my arm and flinch.

            “Austin! Captain…Captain Syverson. Look at me.” Two hands on either side of my face help me focus in. “St..Stand down. You are safe, the threat has been eliminated. Your superiors have given orders to return to base for further instruction. Do you understand?” 

I blink against the water that’s dripping down my face. Emma?

“My men. The injured men in my unit. Where?”

“They are at base getting medical. Captain, I need you to confirm that you understand me.”

I blink and then nod slowly. “Roger that.” I mutter distractedly. I look around. I’m in the backyard of my house, leaning against the brick exterior in my underwear. I have my pistol tucked in the back of the waistband of my boxers and I’m wearing the boots I leave by the back door. In my hands I’m clutching my old hunting rifle that I keep on the top shelf of my closet. Shit. I’ve done it again. I’ve had a PTSD nightmare, but this is so much worse because Emma is here to witness it. I look over at her. She’s crouching on her knees in front of me wearing nothing but my water-soaked t-shirt and panties while she’s barefoot in the mud. Water is dripping from the ends of her hair from the rain that’s pouring down on us. She looks terrified and concerned. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” My throat aches either from unshed tears or maybe I was yelling earlier.

“Austin, baby, are you back?”

I nod. “Emma, I’m so sorry.” I mutter as tears mix with the rain that drips down my face. This is what I was afraid would happen if I got close to her. If I let her in. I would relax and then my past would quite literally present itself.

“Baby, don’t be. You’re okay, we’re okay.” She tells me as she reaches towards my face that’s now aimed at the ground.

“Aika?” 

“I left her inside. I know you said she could help but I wasn’t able to tell if your rifle was loaded and I didn’t want her startling you and there being an accident.” 

Jesus. She was afraid I’d shoot my own dog, because she’s right, I was nowhere near my right mind. Here we are over six months since my last flashback yet this was the most involved PTSD episode I’ve ever had. Thank fuck I keep my ammunition locked and separate from my guns for situations like this. 

She stands and reaches to help me up but I can’t let her help me stand. My leg feels as though it has been shot just yesterday but that could be a result of me crouching on my knees in freezing rain outside in the middle of the night, not just the psychological pain from my flashback. 

“Come on baby.” She takes the rifle from my hand and I don’t protest. I follow her silently back to the house. The air conditioning on our soaked skin has both of our bodies covered in goose bumps. Aika bounds to me whining and crying and I sit down in a chair from the table and run my hands through her thick fur. I bury my face into her back and focus on breathing. My palm clutches my leg that’s radiating phantom pain from where I got shot. Emma appears next to me with a towel but hesitates. 

“Can I help you clean up a bit?” She gestures with the towel.

I nod and she leans down and starts wiping the mud off of my legs. 

“Sugar, I…”

“Baby, nothing needs to be said. I’m okay, and you are going to be. Would you take a warm shower with me?” I look at her and want to just burst into tears. How is she so kind and understanding after what I just did? After what I could have done?

“Please?” She urges and I nod. I follow her to the master bathroom and watch as she turns the water on. Aika stays close and sits down behind me in the bathroom floor. I have no idea what time it is in the night or early morning or how long she’s been awake dealing with me. Emma pulls out two fresh towels for us and then whips the sodden shirt off of her torso before removing her panties. She looks at me and then slowly and gently eases my soaked boxer briefs down my legs before taking my hand and pulling for me to get in the shower. Once I step in, steam surrounds me and I take a deep breath. I’m exhausted, flashbacks always take the energy out of me and it’s not like I’ve been sleeping great this past week. Emma begins lathering a wash cloth with soap and gently starts cleaning me. I stand there perfectly still and let her do what she wants as I attempt to think of anything that I could say to make this situation better. I’m aching with embarrassment. Once she washes me, she quickly washes herself before turning around and caressing her hand on my cheek. She leans down and picks up my wrists that were laying limp by my sides and wraps them around her waist before putting her own around my neck. My eyes are aimed down focusing on the suds swirling around the shower drain.

“Baby, look at me.” She says with the sincerest and worried look on her face and that’s when my resolve breaks. I bury my face into her neck as the hot tears stream from my eyes. I can’t seem to stop them and I ache when I hear myself let out a sob that sounds so painful and broken even to my own ears. Emma tightens her arms around me and guides me back to the bench that we once used for a much different form of intimacy. Emma curls herself around me and holds me tightly while I fully break down. Once my breath starts to come easier, I carefully pull my head from her shoulder and try to clean my face up.

“Let’s dry off and lay down.” She says as she turns off the water and starts toweling me off. I gently take the towel from her, not wanting to be babied but not wanting to seem ungrateful. Once we dry off, Emma hands me some boxers and she tosses on a dry shirt and panties on before we sit on the bed. It’s silent and I feel like I have to say something.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be thinkin’ but I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I woke you, scared you and I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I completely understand if this is the last time I see you.” I say quietly and she looks shocked.

“Austin, I’m not going anywhere. This is what relationships are about. Holding each other through the good and bad. I’m not scared and you’re not fucked up. You’re haunted and although I don’t know the details of it, I want to help you through it. Even if you don’t want my help, I’m not leaving you.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I should be better. I survived, Damnit! I shouldn’t have any problems. Goodwin, Lowell, Waites, they are the ones who died. I just got shot in my stupid fucking leg after leading them to their deaths!” I sob.

“You are allowed to have problems. Their deaths are hard on you but you are not responsible for it. I don’t know what happened, but I know it’s not your fault.”

“The informant set us up, we were ambushed. Goodwin, God. Goodwin got shot right in front of me. I watched the life drain from his eyes. He has a little girl that he’s never met. If I had questioned the mission from my superiors or done more digging on the informant, they would all be alive right now. I had to look at their family members at their funerals and I’ll never forget the grief from their loved ones. Goodwin’s pregnant girlfriend, Lowell’s widow, Waites’ mom. I still see them sobbing over their caskets in my mind. I didn’t deserve to live when they didn’t get too.” I finally say out loud. I take deep breaths attempting to calm my body from going into another spiral.

“Bear.” Emma reaches for me.

“It’s been years and I still get like this. Hell, it might be getting worse. I don’t think this is something I’ll just get over. I’m too fucked up, Emma. You deserve someone who doesn’t have these types of demons.” My eyes blink heavily.

“You are not fucked up. I deserve you because you treat me better than I’ve ever been treated before.” My eyes droop and I know it’s a result of the flashback. When I have them, my body goes through the trauma all over again so when the adrenaline finally stops coursing through my body, I basically crash.

“Love, you look exhausted. Can you try to sleep for me?” She asks and gently pushes for me to lay down. My head is resting between her breasts as she lays back on her back. We’ve never laid like this before but it’s comforting.

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving. Aika’s here and so is Mills.” She tells me while caressing my head but my eyes are already closed, too heavy to fight staying open longer. I wrap my arm around her waist and within moments, I’m deeply asleep soothed by the steady rhythm of Emma’s heartbeat as she caresses my scalp.

Part 11

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood

[canonicallyobserving911]

"You don't know math!" - Ficlet

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

The first ficlet in the "What do you want?" Series in now available on AO3.

New Buddie Fanfic and New Buddie Series

"You don't know math!"- Buck is forced to choose while Eddie might be presented with another option.

"You don't know math!"

3.2K Words; Rated: General Audiences

___________

Here are two snippets, one for Buck and one for Eddie.

___________

Buck

“EVAN?!”

“What?” He replies with a frown because Tommy must be foolish to think he can yell at him like he’s a child.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh… what was that?”

Tommy exasperatedly sighs then with his arms folded over his chest, he says, “Evan, all you had to do was go in there and keep your head down since I told you what type of guy Gerard is.”

~~~

Eddie

About 20 minutes later, the bartender sits his wings and fries in front of him along with another beer but right when he’s getting ready to eat one of his wings, he hears someone say his name.

“You’re Eddie, right?”

He turns around and sees a man who’s 6.2’ or 6.3’, with eyes that are as blue as the ocean, a big million-dollar smile and muscles for days. He asks, “Do I know you?”

“I’m Chuck with the 121 and uh, maybe you don’t remember me but…”

Did Buck breakup with T*mmy too late? 🙃

Did Eddie just meet someone new? 👀

___________

"What do you want?" - A Series of Ficlets

This is a series of “Ficlets” that I’ll be writing over the course of the next few weeks and my goal is to keep them under a certain number of words. I’m challenging myself to do it this way for multiple reasons but mainly because I want to see if I can write a full Buddie story by including smaller fics in a series in comparison to the multi-chapter fic I’m still in the process of writing titled, “I’m still in love with you but… I needed to learn how to love myself too!” I only have 9 chapters left before I finish it but once I’m done, I’d like to continue writing Buddie fanfics. However, this time I’ll start with my dislike for the way season 7 ended instead of the way season 6 did. Finally, I have a lot of WIPs that I want to finish and I figured I can turn them all into ficlets to build the full story for Buck and Eddie.

"You don't know math!" - 3.3K Words; Rated: General Audiences: Buck is forced to choose while Eddie might be presented with another option.

Now Available on AO3

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 1 -

Intro ; Wattpad

A/N: Hey :) Yes I’m forcing myself to write again… and if I wouldn’t update it immediately I’ll never update - so yes maybe there’ll be some some adjustments / reuploads. Still I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter will be a bit more story heavy - Thank you for reading it! <3

“YIELDDD” the blond haired guy yells. Getting up with a smirk, you take his dagger and leave the mat.

“Well that was … personal?” Rhi looks at me.

“I don’t even remember his name?” I look at her confused.

“I’m not talking about Leon.” She smirks and looks across the room, towards a shirtless Xaden… and Eve.

How is it possible that she’s always glued to him?

And why aren’t you glued to him?

‘Ohh shut up.’

Maybe he takes her because he can’t have you?

‘I look nothing like her? And before - I’m not jealous. I’m just forced to spend time with him and she’s always there.’

Uhuuu

‘NOCTIS!’

“Hellooooo? Earth at Nea?” Ridoc waves his hand infront of your face.

“Sorry sorrrryyy”

“Class is over - and we’re finally free!”

“For the day.” Liam sighs as he walks over towards your group.

“Aren’t you the most energetic out of all of us?” Rhi raises her eyebrows.

“OMG LIAM!” Ridoc fake gasps, “who’s the lucky one?”

“That you should ask Nea.”

And now all their eyes are fixed on me. I really should have remembered that his room is right next to his.

“Non of your business.” I smirk at them and start to make your way out of gym.

“No no nooo not so fast.” Rhi hurries next to you, quickly followed by Ridoc on your other side.

“There’s nothing to say.”

Sure there isn’t

‘Could you please stay out of this?

Hey you were the one involving me in it last night.

‘I already apologized for it didn’t I?’

I am still traumatized

‘Not my fault that you don’t get laid.’

Excuse me?! Maybe I just know how to keep you out of it?

‘And now I know for sure that you don’t get laid.’

“Sorry guys but it’s a secret.”

“Ok but was it good?” Rhi asks.

“Sounded like it was.” Liam laughs from behind us.

“… could we not discuss this right now.” I beg and rub my temples.

“And what should we discuss then?” Ridoc smirks and looks at me.

Rolling my eyes I glare at him: “ Well how about we discuss our next history test?” I smile innocently, while he groans.

“Why don’t we discuss the whole Eve thematic again?” Liam asks and pushes between me and Ridoc.

“There is nothing more to discuss. Her family is friends with people my family isn’t really … found of.”

“And she’s a bitch that thinks she’s better than us just because she’s a fae - no offense Nea.” Rhi adds.

“Non taken.” I laugh.

“And that’s why she doesn’t like you?” Ridoc asks.

“Yup this and the fact I’m friends with someone she desperately wants to fuck.” I laugh.

“What? Why haven’t any of you told me that she wants to fuck me? I know she’s a bitch but I wouldn’t say no…” Liam fake gasps.

“No Liam we’re talking about someone who’s actually attractive and doesn’t just have a big ass ego.” Rhiannon laughs.

“Ouch. That hurts Rhi.” Liam puts his hand over his heart and pouts.

“Nawww Liam… you know I wouldn’t say no to you - If you weren’t one of my friends.” I laugh.

“Thanks it helps hearing this from the hottest Fae around.” He smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder.

“Well… I loved this conversation, but my bed calls me.” Wiggling out of his “hug” I stop in front of my room.

“If you need any company - just call me, the walls are thin.” He winks and opens the door to his own room.

“See you at dinner?” Rhi asks while she and Ridoc walk towards their own rooms.

“Yes see you there!”

Closing the door I immediately take off my clothes and put on the big shirt Azriel left me last night.

As soon as my head hits my bed my mind wanders off to the events of last night.

Closing my eyes the image of Azriels face appears. It was always different between us.

While Rhys quickly became a father figure for me, Cassian and Mor immediately adopted me as a little sister. But Azriel… I was 15 when Rhys brought me with him and introduced me to his family.

Azriel was always cold and closed off, he avoided talking to me if not necessary, always had someone else with us when he trained me. Things changed on my 19th birthday. Mor was throwing a party for me, inviting everyone including my boyfriend at that time - to make it short he cheated on me that night … in my room… my bed.

While running away from him and the party I ran into Azriel… when I told him what happened something snapped inside of him and let’s just say I woke up next to him that morning… and the morning after… and after … and -

I get it. Please stop thinking about it.

‘Then stay out of my head.’

‘Hey Noctis?’

Yes little shadow?

‘Do you think it’s more than just sex for him?’

Is it for you?

‘…no.. I mean… he’s a close friend, so obviously I care for him…’

And you’re sure that’s all?

‘Noctis. I’m here and he’s in Velaris. Even if I wanted it to be more, it wouldn’t work out.’

And why not? He’s already visiting you.

‘I - He- yes..’

But?

‘Nothing… I should sleep now.’

Sure little shadow.

Wake up. Nea. Wake up. NEA!

I wake up to a voice in my head that isn’t Noctis and feel a hand placed over my mouth and start to panic, searching for the weapon under my pillow. How did this person get inside of my room? Isn’t my magic working? And why didn’t Noctis wake me up?

“Nea. It’s me.”

That voice… I blink and let my eyes adjust to the darkness in my room.

“Rhys?!” I muffle.

“Oh sorry.” He moves his hand off my face.

“Why are you here?”

“You wanted a care package didn’t you?” He smiles and gestures to my desk, where a big as basket full of food and presents, is placed.

“Thank you. And now why are you really here.”

“… Your letter.”

How could he already got … Azriel tool it with him. I mentally roll my eyes.

“Get dressed.”

“And why should I? It’s 3am?”

“Because I want to see your blood manipulation. So get out of Azriels shirt and come with me to the flight field.”

“How…. How do you?”

“Nea please.” He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “We all know.”

I just stare at him.

All of them?

Yes they all know. Now get dressed. I’ll meet you there.

‘Why are you coming?’

Because I asked him to come.

‘Yes it was planned for me to come before I got your letter’

‘WHY ARE YOU BOTH IN MY HEAD?!’

‘Because you forgot to have your wall up.’ Rhys scowls.

‘But why are you two talking?’

You’re underestimating my powers

‘I thought you’re only allowed to talk to me…’

Do I look like I stick to any rules?

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 12

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 12: bad memories

TRIGGER WARNING: strong mentions of sexual assault

Author’s note:

The next few chapters might be a bit dark but they have to be in order to move the story in the direction I want. I’ll be writing a summary in the footnote for anyone who wants to skip this part. Keep in mind, I’m writing this story for myself as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I started taking my magic training into my own hands.

When Alastor was busy doing one of his many radio broadcasts, I was in the library searching through the various books. Husker sat on the window seat with a bottle of alcohol, listening to my random mumbles. I wasn't really talking to him but every now and then he made a comment to kickstart my thoughts again.

I had books laid out on all the tables and chairs. Surely this shouldn't be hard to figure out and Husker had to have some insight to it. So I started with something simple: turning water into ice. I read the books on water magic and read about some of the science behind it. Water molecules start to move slower and stick together. So it was just very condensed water.

Husker watched me fail the first time and splash water on myself. I casted a cup on him and he jumped from his seat with a hiss and hair sticking up. The second time I half succeeded. The water in the cup solidified into water for a moment before instantly melting. I tried a few more times until it stayed as ice without melting.

I put the cup down and tried something different. I casted the water out of the glass and twirled it into a constantly moving ball of water in my palm. I already knew how to control water from my fighting days so this part wasn't hard. I cupped my hand over the moving ball and imagined it slowing down until it was a frozen cluster. I felt it weigh down on my hand but forced myself to focus until I was sure that it had turned completely into ice.

Pulling my hand back, I revealed a perfect sphere of ice.

"Nice job," Husker congratulated in his own grumpy way. This felt like the first big step as the rest of my experiments started to work on the second try. I combined water and fire to create steam and filled the room with it, quickly sending it out the window before it ruined the books. Telekinesis was my next easy experiment.

I could draw the curtains and slam the doors like Alastor did. I could move chairs and tables around and put books back on their shelf. I laughed as I put the library back to its original state, paper and books flying past me. They all slid back into place and I planted my hands on my hips. I had done it.

"Impressive."

I bristled at Alastor's voice, turning to face the Radio Demon with a scowl. I noticed the fowl aura of hatred coming from Husker. Picking up on emotions became easy thanks to my keen sense of smell. Alastor remained a concrete wall.

"Rosie will be arriving shortly. I thought you might want to actually prepare yourself this time."

I crossed my arms. "I'm always prepared to deal with you so I think I will be alright."

His cold presence ran down my spine and I shivered. "Are you so sure?"

I raised my body temperature and pushed back against him. His eyes narrowed at me despite my inability to remove him completely from my mind. Our shadows growled at each other on the wall.

During the session with Rosie, she taught me to build another shield outside the one I already had. Once I had built two new shields, she attempted to push through. At first it was easy to keep her away but then she grew more aggressive. I was shocked at the sudden aggression from the sweet lady, my shields wavering but never falling. My fear had only reinforced the shields more.

"Outstanding!" she said at last, clapping her hands. I was out of breath as I clung to the seat. These sessions always left me so tired and ragged. Though it made me feel better when I saw her dab at her forehead with a handkerchief. "Now, take a quick break before we start the next thing. Get some fresh air, dearie."

I was expecting to be done for the day. When she didn't take her eyes off me I took that as my cue to leave the room. I had just barely closed the door when I heard her say something softly to Alastor. My nerves went through the roof.

Husker stood outside the kitchen door with me. The snow was starting to melt away, revealing little patches of grass here and there. The sun was setting into the ocean, casting a gently orange glow against the house.

"You'll be fine. You've managed through everything else so far," Husker tried to reassure me. My nerves seemed to only worsen with every passing minute. I kept fiddling with my claws and tapping my tail on the ground.

Eventually, Rosie called me in. The chairs had been pulled close again and a pitcher of water sat on a table nearby. Alastor waited patiently in one of the chairs, hands folded properly in his lap. His smile didn't seem genuine as Rosie led me to one of the chairs.

"Now dear, we're going to go through one of your more difficult memories. I want you to practice pulling yourself out of a memory when you're afraid. You'll have to learn to control your emotions to pull yourself out. Do you think you can do that?"

I nodded and swallowed hard. I wondered why Alastor was sitting close to me but then I remembered that he had been the one to pull me out of the dark memory of Striker that fateful day.

"Pick one of your worst memories."

I took a slow, deep breath and closed my eyes. I fell into my memories with my various shields still in place. I was only watching the memory, not partaking in it. I tried to keep my heart from speeding up too much as the memory unfolded.

My hardest fight yet was against an adult. They had a crazed look on their face, a look of fear, desperation, starvation, and a lack of humanity. He acted like an animal as he chased after me in the ring. He broke my wrist and leg before I managed to dig my fingers into his eye sockets and end his life with a punch to the throat.

Something sweet filled my nose but I didn't pay it any attention.

Striker yelled and lectured me as I had my wrist and leg wrapped by the healer. He had a heavy, painful grip on my shoulder as he led me back to my cage. He slammed the cage door shut and stormed out. Not too long after, someone else opened my cage door.

They slammed something into my face, momentarily shocking me. I came to as they strapped a magic-reducing helmet to my head. The dark figure loomed over and started grabbing at me. I screamed for help but he stuffed a gag into my mouth.

"Come out of it, sweetheart." Rosie called.

I tried to relax but the panic was too much. I didn’t recognize this memory. Was it another attack?

I fought against them but my injuries made it nearly impossible. Tears streamed down at my face as I screamed my throat hoarse. I raked my nails down any inch of skin I could find.

"Sweetheart, now. You have to come out."

The corners of the room grew dark until I was staring at nothing but the man's face. I reached for his eyes many times but he kept pushing them away. I choked on the helplessness and fear until everything around me was pitch black.

I was standing now. Someone was calling for me but it was faint, too faint. I looked around at the darkness. I spun around in circles, strangely calm, and stared at nothing. I was just here. Existing, but not. Was I still in my mind? Surely I had to be.

A cold feather brushed against my cheek. I turned but there was no one there. It happened again but on my neck. It spread from there, reaching into my brain and down through my entire body. I was freezing all of a sudden. There was nothing to keep me warm so I wrapped my arms around myself.

Then I sensed three presences. I recognized Husker's first. It was warm and calm, but a hint of panic. Why was he panicking? What was wrong?

Next I recognized Alastor's. He was inside my head unlike Husker who was surrounding my body.

Then I recognized Rosie's presence. Hers was kind but firm. She also seemed to be panicked. Why was everyone panicking? Was something happening?

The black environment turned red as anger filled my chest. I was furious. I don't know what at but I needed to release it. I wanted to claw something, to kill someone. I wanted to slice someone's throat who caused people nothing but harm. They deserved to leave this world and being thrown into Hell to be eaten by the Demons who lived there.

I felt someone pulling on me. My legs slid out from under me and I was lying on my back, still angry. Then the anger slipped from my fingertips, quickly replaced by fear. The man's face appeared out of the red wall and I found myself trapped under him again. I choked on my fear and gag as I fought him. I tried throwing my weight around but he was far too heavy. I felt him bite down on my neck.

Not this. Not this. Not this. Not this. Please! NOT THIS!

I recognized the memory.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it hard. He yelled as I dug my fingers into his eyes like my previous opponent. He grabbed both wrists and slammed them hard into the cage floor. My legs weren't working. Why wouldn't they work?

"Come out of it," I heard Husker yell.

"Sweetheart it's a memory. It's not actually happening," Rosie said.

I cried as the memory continued. I bit down on the man's hand but he just pulled my hands further away from my face. I tried curling in on myself but it did nothing. His other hand moved roughly over my skin as I screamed into the gag.

I felt Alastor's presence come from behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and dipped into my mindscape. "Alastor!" I yelled as the memory dragged me back through my shields. I felt his presence wrap around my head and saw nothing but red. It felt like a string was being pulled out of my ear as he pushed me into the safety of my shields.

"You're safe. Come out of your head," he instructed.

I closed my eyes, pushing away the forbidden memory, and opened my eyes to the library. All three of them were surrounding me, staring down with panic-stricken faces. Alastor opened his eyes and took his hand from my forehead. His eyebrows were the only thing that told me he was upset.

Husker pulled me up to a sitting position as Rosie practically shoved a glass of water down my throat. I took several moments to catch my breath, the two of them trying to help calm me. I stared at the carpet and tried to think of anything other than that horrid memory. I didn’t know I even had that memory.

"You're back, and you're safe," Husker said, holding out his paw. I took it and let him help me into a chair. I leaned back into the seat and looked around at the dark library. I was back in the house. I was safe. Relatively.

"What happened?" I asked, still out of breath.

"You visited a...terrible memory that you couldn't pull out of," Rosie answered. "I was expecting you to use the same memory as last time. I wasn't expecting that."

"I didn't...that wasn't...that was a memory I had blocked away. I've never...I haven't been able to remember that night in years...so...why could I this time?"

Rosie went quiet and looked over at Alastor. He stood staring out one of the windows with his arms folded behind him. When enough silence had passed, he finally turned to look at me. "We used the same drug that was used on you the night it first happened."

"What?” My voice bounced off the walls. “What drug?“

"You had a small amount that night," he walked over to us, "It's a common drug used by a certain Demon to control their victims." He paused. "We thought you might be ready for another dose, but I can see we were mistaken. We rushed the process."

"Did..." I slowly looked over at Rosie, "did everyone...see it? The memory?"

"I'm afraid so, darling. We had to when we tried to pull you back out."

I lowered my head to stare at the floor. My clawed feet were just as black as before. If I had this side of me my whole life, I could've avoided it. I could've saved myself. Instead, here I was learning mind magic and revealing everything to three random Demons.

My throat tightened and tears started to well in my eyes. I abruptly left the room. I went to my bedroom, locked the door, then into the bathroom and locked that one too. I curled up in the corner of the room between the bathtub and the shower...and broke down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s summary:

Reader attempts mind magic again. When she visits a difficult memory, Alastor holds a memory-controlling-drug up to her nose. This creates more of a challenge for her and ends up sending her into a memory she had blocked away. She barely manages to pull herself out, if it wasn’t for Alastor and the others helping.

[fandomgirlz01]

This Can’t Be The End Pt. 4

Nick Stokes X Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: No  

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Series 

Rating: PG-13 ~ For fluff and cuteness, but more adult commentary or even some triggering content.

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,812

Post Date & Time: August 4th 2024 at 11: 44 PM

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

Listen to the story be read out loud here {coming soon}.  

Summary: Based off of S5 Es24 & 25 When Nick gets kidnapped, the reader is forced to fear the worst for her husband as she and the team work the case with hopes of bringing him home safe. 

Y/n’s Pov:

My eyes shoot open and I immediately sit up. I frown when I see where I am, not fully remembering how I got here. Thinking over where I remember being last, I deduce that Warrick must have brought me in here after I fell asleep. 

“Did you hear they thought they found Nick only for it to actually be a dog?” Isadora, one of the other team members, asks as she leans into another from her team. 

“No. What kind of dog was it?” Marcela questions in an interested tone as they keep talking like they don’t know I’m here. 

“It was a Dalmatian. I hear Warrick's going over the box now,” Isadora continues on and I just listen as carefully as I can. 

“Did the dog survive?” Marcela asks and Isadora shakes her head. 

“Awe, that's sad. Poor dog. People are so cruel nowadays,” Marcela croons and Isadora nods. 

“Yeah. Apparently Warrick lost it,” Marcela comments as she takes a sip of her drink and Isadora shrugs. 

“I mean, can you blame him? That’s his team member out there,” Isadora comments back. 

“Yeah, his sexy team mate,” Marcela adds on with a bounce of her eyebrows and I roll my eyes. 

“Marcela, dear. He’s married,” Isadora tells her with a raised eyebrow and small chuckle of amusement. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t like him from afar,” Marcela comments with a shrug and Isadora laughs. 

“I’m pretty sure it means that you can’t, but what about Warrick? He’s pretty hot too,” Isadora asks and Marcela waves her off. 

“He's married too, remember? Not to mention he’s got a temper. Guys with tempers aren’t always good to have around,” Marcela explains and I roll my eyes again. 

Finally I can’t take it anymore, not wanting to hear people gossip about how hot my husband or brother figure is when Nick’s out there somewhere, fighting to come home to me. I push myself up off the couch and hear gasps, making me turn to look at the two women before me. They each give me sorrowful yet horrified looks. 

“Oh my gosh. Y/n, we are so sorry. We didn’t know you were there,” Isadora apologizes and I shrug ‘as if that makes it better that you were just gossiping about me… and the people who matter most to me,’ I think as I hold back a roll of my eyes. 

“It’s fine, really. Uhh, I’m going to find Warrick. Do you know what lab he’s in?” I ask, starting to fidget as an uncomfortable feeling washes over me. 

“Oh, yeah. I think I heard he’s in lab 345,” Isadora answers me and I nod. 

“Thanks. I’ll, uhh, see you girls around,” I reply as I give them a small wave before turning and leaving in search of Warrick. 

For the millionth time in the last few days I find myself walking down all the many hallways again. I walk past every lab as I look for the one that Warrick supposedly is in. I pass each lab and look at each number of labs before coming to a stop in front of 345. 

When I come to a stop I see Warrick inside working on a big clear plexiglass box. With a sigh, I open the door and walk in as he continues to work. I watch him for a few minutes as he picks a few parts up and inspects them. 

After a few minutes, I walk over to him and hug him from behind. He tenses for a moment before turning around and hugging me back. 

“What’s up, mamas?” he asks and I blink back a few tears. 

“I overheard a few of the others talking about what happened while I was asleep. They told me where you were and I came to find you,” I tell him and he sighs, nodding. 

“I swear I came to tell you after it happened, but you finally looked semi-peaceful. You needed the sleep,” he explains and I nod my understanding. 

“Don’t worry, B, I get it. Really. I do,” I promise him and he lets out a puff of air. 

“Good. I thought you were going to be mad at me,” he comments and I purse my lips. 

“Now doesn’t really feel like the time for anger,” I whisper out and he chuckles. 

“Only you. Y/n. Only you. You get angry once, then never again even when you’re going through something bad,” he replies in astonishment and I shrug. 

“Mind if I keep you company while you finish this up? It’s a lot better than hearing all the gossip about my husband,” I try to playfully joke, but it comes out sounding more half-hearted than anything and he sighs. 

“You want me to go tell em’ what for?” he asks and I pause. 

“As nice as that sounds… I’d rather you be here working on trying to find Nicky,” I reply and he smiles softly as I sit down. 

“In that case, hang out here all you want, mamas,” he agrees and I give him a soft thankful smile before he turns around to get back to work. 

He picks over what seems to be the fan that would supply the air once again before taking it apart. He puts down the tube that was connected to it before picking up his flashlight and looking down the opening of the fan itself. Then he takes the tube off of where it’s connected to the box and looks through the hole that was left from removing it. 

“So I, ahh… heard you lost it out there,” I speak up as he moves around the box. 

“Uhh, yeah. You weren’t supposed to know that…” he tells me as he takes the grate off the other side of the hole. 

“It’s ok, you know? It’s ok you lost it,” I sympathize with him as he continues to look over the area of the box. 

“No. It’s not ok. It took time off from finding Nick. I should’ve kept my head level,” he plays it off and I shake my head. 

“Rick. He’s like family to you just as much as he is family to me. It’s understandable that you'd lose it. I mean, I lost it on you earlier,” I again sympathize with him and he sighs as he continues to work on the box. 

“You didn’t exactly lose it, mamas. You got a little angry, there’s a difference,” he dismisses me again and I roll my eyes. 

“I bit your head off. There really isn’t a difference,” I pointedly tell him as I cross my arms and he nods. 

“Ok. Ok. You win,” he reluctantly agrees as he now grabs a battery and starts using the wires connected to the box, trying to see how they hook up. 

Once he has it hooked up, the light turns on as well as the fan. He looks over it as the meter he has connected to it counts up higher and higher. He picks up the fan and looks at it before looking at the meter. 

“Damn it,” he mutters as he puts the fan down with a sigh. 

“What?” I ask him and he pauses. 

“I think we need to find Catherine,” he says and I jump as he walks over to the phone. 

He stands there with the phone to his ear and he waits for her to answer. When she does, he talks to her for a moment before looking over at me and moving the speaker from his mouth. 

“Catherine wants you to go to the computer lab. Says Grissom needs you,” he tells me and I sigh before standing up. 

“I’m on my way,” I tell him as I pass him and he goes back to talking to her. 

Third Person Pov:

Gil, Archie and Sarah sit in the computer lab watching Nick, who now pulls out a recorder and holds it up to mouth to talk into it. Gil, who knows how to read lips, now decides to read Nick’s as he talks. 

“My name is Nick Stokes. If anyone… finds this tape, turn it in to the Las Vegas… PD. There should be a reward…” he starts and Gil watches with sad eyes as he sits up a bit more. 

“Mom. Sisko… y/n….” Gil reads Nick’s lips and decides to start writing what Nick is saying. 

“Hey Sara, would you call Catherine and have her send y/n here?” he asks her as he keeps his eyes focused on what Nick is saying.  

“Yeah. Ok,” Sara agrees as she picks up the phone and calls Catherine. 

“…well, this is a lousy way to say goodbye, but it’s all I got,” Nick continues on and Grissom keeps his eyes trained on the screen as he writes. 

“I love you. You raised me right… and I’m going to miss you,” Nick says into the recorder, getting choked up with every word. 

“Y/n. I’m so sorry I can’t be with you, sweetheart, and our future child. I love you most and I’ll miss you the most too. P… promise me you’ll go on that trip I promised you, even if I’m not there to take it with you. Promise me you’ll find someone to look after you…” Nick goes on saying his goodbyes, only getting more choked up and stuttering every few minutes. 

As he goes on, Grissom’s eyes widen at the mention of a child, but he quickly plays it off.

“As for the rest of you guys. I know you did the best you could to find me and get me home to my beautiful wife,” he continues on as Grissom continues to read his lips. 

“Grissom…” he starts and that’s when Grissom stops writing it down, focusing on what he’s saying to him. 

“No, you never did, Nick,” Grissom sighs as he replies to Nick out loud. 

He continues to watch as Nick cries, but soon he starts to freak out. Grissom watches carefully as confusion washes over him. 

“He’s going into convolutions. He’s losing it!” Sara comments just as y/n walks in. 

Y/n walks over to Grissom, who spares her a quick look before watching alongside her as Nick seems to be thrashing around. Y/n lets out a breath as she closes her eyes, not being able to watch it anymore. 

“What’s going on?!” Sara voices her exact thoughts as they continue to watch. 

“Wha…?” Grissom goes to ask, but pauses when he sees it. 

“Wait a minute…” he says in realization as he picks up his mouse to zoom in on Nick. 

“Ants…” Grissom confirms what he zooms in on, making y/n open her eyes. 

“My God, he’s being eaten alive,” Grissom observes as they all watch the ants in the box with him. 

Together they all watch in sadness as he withers around, just trying anything to get the ants away and not succeeding. He pulls a glove out of his pocket and uses it to stuff up his nose. 

“That’s it, Nicky… stay still… they won’t bite. As much,” Grissom proudly says before looking up at y/n. 

“I have something for you,” he tells the girl and she arches an eyebrow. 

He folds up the paper and hands it to her, making more confusion wash over her. He smiles softly and reassuringly at her. 

“These ants could help us find him, but in the meantime, I think you should hear what he had to say to you,” Grissom tells her as he sets a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 

“T…Thanks,” she whispers out as she takes the paper before turning to leave and head back to Warrick. 

“Oh and y/n. Congratulations,” he replies, making her turn around and look at him. 

He gives her a small knowing smile and she can’t help but to just smile back. She gives him a small ‘thank you,’ in response with a nod before fully turning and walking back to where she’d left Warrick. 

Y/n’s Pov: 

I start back to the lab Warrick is in before making a split second decision to go into the locker room instead. I quickly look around just to make sure I’m alone and when I find that I am I sigh as I take a seat on the bench. I hold the paper Grissom gave me and I go to open it, but pause. 

I take a deep breath before trying to open it again, but again I fail. Tears of frustration make their way to my face and I sigh as I try to hold them back. With one last puff of air, I open the paper to read over it. 

“My name is Nick Stokes. If anyone… finds this tape, turn it in to the Las Vegas… PD. There should be a reward…” is the first line I read and a gasp leaves my lips.

“Mom. Sisko… y/n….” Is the next line and a tear falls as I suck in a breath. 

I quickly close the paper for a moment as more and more tears build up. I take a moment to let my tears fall before reopening the paper and continuing on with sniffles. 

“…well, this is a lousy way to say goodbye, but it’s all I got,” I read and a choked sound leaves my throat as I put my other hand over my mouth. 

“I love you. You raised me right… and I’m going to miss you,” more tears fall as my lip starts to tremble and I take another pause before starting to read again. 

“Y/n. I’m so sorry I can’t be with you, sweetheart, and our future child. I love you most and I’ll miss you the most too. P… promise me you’ll go on that trip I promised you even if I’m not there to take it with you. Promise me you’ll find someone to look after you…” by the end I’m fully sobbing as I hold the paper close to my chest. 

I sit there for a good few minutes before sobering up and wiping at my face. I sigh softly before getting up from the bench and standing in front of my locker. I pause a moment as I look at Nick’s locker that Grissom so nicely assigned right next to mine on our first day.

I quickly shake my head and bite my lip before opening my locker. I set the note lightly on the shelf and stand frozen for a moment before closing it. With a very heavy breath, I open Nick’s locker. 

It’s then I let out another very harsh breath when I see the sonogram he has tucked under his jeans:

I read the top where Nick had nicely written out: baby Stokes 9 weeks with a small smiley face. I quickly slide it back under and close the locker. With another heavy sigh, I walk over to the sink and wash my face with cold water. 

“He’ll be home. He will be,” I whisper down to my stomach before standing straight again. 

I look myself over and sigh once more before walking out of the locker room. I walk back to where I had left Warrick and find Greg, Catherine, and Hodges in the room with him. 

“This has got to be a prototype. It was probably built to test how long he could keep somebody alive inside,” Catherine observes out loud as she walks around the box with her flashlight. 

“Hi, mamas. You doing ok?” Warrick asks me when he sees me come up next to him. 

I keep quiet with my arms wrapping themselves around my stomach and I shake my head. Warrick finally catches sight of my eyes and sighs before pulling me into his side. 

“Now, what are those?” Hodges questions as he bends down and points to something underneath the box, making Greg, who’s under it, pause to look at him. 

“I don’t know,” Greg replies and Hodges seems to understand that it was a stupid question as he stands up. 

“All right,” Warrick speaks up, getting all of our attention as he straightens up a bit, keeping me in a side hug. 

“Based on this battery and what’s running off of it,” Warrick starts to explain, but pauses for a moment as if thinking over how to explain it better while glancing at me as he hesitates. 

“And the fact that we kept the damn light on for as long as we did,” he continues to explain, pausing again as he takes in a big breath. 

“I figure Nick’s got another 90 minutes left in there,” he concludes and I take in a harsh breath as reality slowly starts to set in even more. 

It goes quiet for a moment, but Warrick lifts his arm with his watch and pulls it up past my face to set it with the hand he has around my neck still. He pulls it away and I see the watch says 1:30 on it. 

“So this is it… I’m going to lose my husband…” I whisper out before sinking to the floor, but Warrick quickly grabs hold of me, slowing me down so I don’t hurt myself. 

“No, no. We’re going to find him, mamas. I promised. When do I not keep my promises?” Warrick asks, but I don’t reply as I shake my head in denial and a million thoughts fly through my head. 

“Y/n. Hey. Y/n. It’s going to be okay!” Catherine shouts a bit and it’s only then I realize I’m having a panic attack. 

“Damn, she’s having a panic attack. Greg, go get some water, Hodges, go inform Grissom,” Catherine commands before she bends down in front of me. 

Both Greg and Hodges nod, eyes wide with worry before rushing out. Warrick now sits with my back against his side as I try to breathe. 

“Ok. Y/n. Honey, breath with me,” she commands me softly as she shows me how to breathe. 

“Ok. In… and out… just like that,” she couches me and my breath starts to slow down, but still not where it should be. 

“Ok. I’m going to have you do the five senses, ok?” she asks me softly and I nod at her. 

“Ok. What do you feel?” she questions and she holds up her hand for me. 

“I… I… I feel your hand a…a..and Warrick behind m…m…me,” I stutter out and she nods with a small smile. 

“Good. Good. Now what do you see?” she asks and I look around. 

“I see that evil b…b…box,” I tell her and she nods. 

“Ok… bad place to ask that. Let’s just move on. What do you hear?” she asks and I shake my head, closing my eyes. 

“I h…hear you and Warrick,” I tell her and she nods encouragingly when I reopen my eyes. 

“Ok. Now taste,” she inquires and my eyebrows knit together. 

“Umm, nothing. I haven’t eaten anything for a while,” I tell her in confusion and she just smiles at me. 

“Panic attack averted. Here, drink this,” she comments as she holds a water out to me and it’s only then I realize Greg had come back. 

“Thank you guys,” I tell them and they all smile softly at me. 

“Anytime y-” Catherine starts, but she gets cut off when Hodges comes rushing back in. 

Nick’s Pov:

♪ It was Christmas in Las Vegas, 

when the locals take the town ♪

♪ Theresa hit a streak And laid her waitress apron down She’d been playing penny poker over at the old gold spike she’s won at Texas hold ‘em So she switched to let it ride ♪

I sing softly to myself to try and keep calm. Thinking of the lyrics rather than the situation I’m in and how much y/n must be scared. 

The singing doesn’t get my mind off of things for long and soon I find myself thinking of just getting home again. I think about just wanting to sit and watch a movie from the red box with y/n again. I’m soon pulled from my thoughts though when there’s a shifting sound. 

I grab another one of the glow sticks and pop it, making it come to life as the creaking noise gets louder. 

“Hey! I’m, in here!” I yell out as I hit the plexiglass in hopes that I’m being saved. 

“Hey!” I continue to yell, my voice cracking as I keep hitting the plexiglass. 

♪ It was Christmas in Las Vegas, 

when the locals take the town ♪

♪ Theresa hit a streak And laid her waitress apron down… ♪

I start to sing as loudly as I can again, but my breath slowly fails and my head falls back down as I realize nobody’s here. It’s only a few minutes later when a loud crack sound starts and I see the plexiglass start to crack slowly up the sides of the box. I keep the glow stick low as I breathe hard while watching it crack more and more. 

“Stop… no, no,” I whisper out as I put my hand up to the plexiglass. 

“Oh, my God,” I whisper out in fear the more it cracks with no signs of stopping. Soon dirt starts to break those and my feet are under a mountain of it.

Third Person Pov: 

Once the ant crawls farther into view Grissom hits the print button and as soon as the picture of the screen prints he’s ripping it off the printer. Gil quickly rushes to his office and looks through all the books he has. Soon he’s pulling one from the shelf and flips through it till it lands on the page he’s looking for. 

He pauses when he thinks he’s found it before picking up the screen shot to look at the ant again. 

“Solenopsis invicta,” Grissom says out loud to himself as he confirms what kind of ant it is. 

Y/n’s Pov: 

“Grissom’s got something. He wants us all in evidence meeting room 4 now,” he rushes out as he stands against the door frame, panting for air. 

“We’re on our way. Warrick, you got her?” Catherine asks as she looks behind me. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Go. We’ll meet you guys there,” he promises and she nods before reaching out for me. 

I grab her hand and she gives mine a firm squeeze. She gives a tight lipped smile before getting up and heading out of the lab. Greg bends down and puts a hand on my shoulder. 

“Hang in there, y/n. Nick’s coming home,” he tells me as he squeezes my shoulder before getting up to follow Hodges and Catherine. 

Warrick sits with me for a moment as I continue to just calm down. Once my breathing is fully back to normal, Warrick gets up. 

“Ok. Slowly. Slowly,” Warrick tells me as he helps me up alongside him. 

“Thank you, B…” I say when we’re both standing and I squeeze his forearm as I give him a light smile. 

“Anytime, mamas. You know that,” he tells me as he smiles back at me. 

I sigh and hold a hand to my head as I start to feel a little tired. Warrick chuckles lightly, making me look up at him in confusion. 

“Tired?” he asks me and I huff at his obvious jokeful tone. 

“I’m beat, but I’m not sleeping till Nick’s right next to me,” I answer his question and he smiles, shaking his head. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed or suggested anything else, mamas,” he tells me as he holds his hands up in surrender, making me finally laugh for the first time since all of this happened. 

“Oh please, you so would have,” I comment with a roll of my eyes and he chuckles. 

“Maybe I would have, maybe not. Come on. Let’s go find your husband,” he tells me and I smile up at him as he wraps an arm around my shoulder. 

Together we walk to meet up with everyone else in evidence room 4. They all rush around getting stuff ready and just Warrick and I walk in, Grissom rushes in. Warrick and I stand off to the side as he keeps his arm around me. 

“They’re fire ants, very rare in Nevada. They don’t like our soil. The only places you find them around Vegas are in plant and tree nurseries,” Grissom announces as he walks around the table to where Catherine is sitting at a computer. 

Warrick lets go of me before making me sit in the chair Catherine just abandoned. He starts to look at a stack of papers Catherine just printed and crosses off places not in the search grid. 

“There’s 11 nurseries in the greater Las Vegas area!” Catherine adds on what she found from a quick search. 

“Okay, I’ve got the webcam trace down to here,” Archie speaks next as he circles the area he narrowed it down to on the map and Warrick starts crossing things off his list. 

“And the data from the black box in Walter Gordon’s truck gave us a 23-mile travel radius,” Greg adds on as he too circles his findings on the map, making the circles overlap ever so slightly. 

“Okay, I’ve got two nurseries within the overlap area. Here! And here!” Warrick announces as he walks up to the table and draws two x’s over the spots. 

“Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Kelly Gordon, the daughter, worked with plants,” Sara explains and we all look at her.

“Hold on. Hold on,” Sara says before she rushes out of the room, making us all wait about a minute before she comes running back in with a file in her hand. 

“Hey guys, Nick is here,” she says as she points to the x on the left that Warrick had drawn. 

“Well, pack up everyone, let’s go! I’ll call the owner and talk to him on the way,” Grissom exclaims and I jump up as everyone starts rushing out of the room. 

“Hey. Maybe you should stay here,” Warrick tells me and I immediately shake my head. 

“If you think for one minute that I’m sitting back here while you all go find my husband, you're dead wrong, B,” I reply and he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Mama, we don’t know what-” he starts but gets cut off. 

“Let her come, Warrick. She’s allowed to,” Grissom interrupts with a soft smile my way. 

“What! But-” Warrick starts, but stops when Grissom just nods at him. 

“Ok… fine. At least wear your vest? Just in case,” Warrick tells me and I nod at him. 

“If it’ll make you feel better for me too, I will. I’ll meet you at your car,” I promise him with a firm nod before rushing off to the locker room. 

Once in the locker room, I come to stop in front of my locker and quickly open it. I grab my vest out before slamming it shut once again. I quickly strap my vest around me before rushing back out of the locker room and down the many, many hallways. 

I rush out into the parking garage and I stop to watch as Grissom and Sara drive past me with their cars' emergency lights on. Once they pass, I run over to Warrick's car and hop into the passenger side. He quickly turns his lights on before pulling out of the parking space. 

Soon before I know it, we’re pulling up on location and I see that almost half our police fleet are here, making relief wash over me as sirens blare all around me. Grissom’s car is just in front of us and I hold on as Warrick takes the turn into the nursery drive. We follow Grissom all the way up the drive and come to a stop next to his car. 

Grissom gets out of his car and I yank my seatbelt off to follow after him. He meets up with the owner at the front of his car just as I come up beside him. 

“You said on the phone you had a fire ant mound. Where is it?” he asks as he and the owner get close to one another. 

“People usually prefer to stay away from it,” the owner comments as he turns and starts to lead us all over to it. We all stop pointing our flashlights at the mound as Grissom stops and looks at it for a moment. 

“All right, look. Fan out. Look for loose soil. Anything that might’ve been dug up recently,” Grissom commands and we all rush off. 

We all fan out like he said, officers all going in different directions. I stick by Warrick as we walk briskly while searching the ground with our lights. Everyone looks for a few minutes, but nothing seems remotely the littlest bit off. 

“Hey! I’m picking up the webcam transmitter!” We hear Catherine yell out and I look at Warrick. 

“She’s got something! Move, move!” An officer yells out and I smile. 

“We found him, B… we really found him,” I excitedly say and Warrick smiles, nodding. 

“Come on, mama. We’re close,” he agrees with a smile as we both pick up and start to jog to where Catherine is. 

Soon we come up behind her and she slows down to look around. We slow down too and help in looking around with our lights. She turns to her left and continues walking until she almost trips over something, making her turn back. 

She turns around and shines her light on what she tripped on, only to find a tube sticking out of the ground. She pauses a moment before turning and walking a little further only to find another tube. Her monitor picks up in its beeping and I look at Warrick as she bends down to the ground. 

She drops her light and the monitor before she starts to dig around frantically with her hands. She finds what seems to be a clear bag of sorts and she rips off her glove, making it fall back to the floor. 

“This is it!! I found it!!” she screams out as she scrambles to pick the bag back up and open it. 

“It’s here! I found it! This is it!” she screams out again as she looks over the remote. 

“Nick!” she shouts into the pipe as everyone else races over to us. 

“Nick… we’re here. We’re all here! Hang on! Nicky!” she shouts into the pipe as officers run over with shovels and Warrick takes one. 

They all start to shovel at the ground and Catherine wraps an arm around me as she holds her flashlight up with the other. We all watch with bated breath as they continue to pull dirt from the earth. 

Nick’s Pov: 

“Nicky!” I think I hear Catherine, but decide it’s just my mind playing tricks on me for the millionth time. 

I feel more and more of the ants biting at me and I groan as my heart starts to pound harder. I close my eyes, but open them when there’s a click sound. It’s then I see Doc Robbins and David looking down at me before he sighs and shakes his head in sorrow. 

“It’s a damn shame they didn’t get to him sooner,” Robbins says as he continues to look down at me. 

“I sure will miss him,” David comments and it’s quiet for a moment. 

“You know, David, I’ve seen fire ant bites in my time, but never anything like this,” Robbins tells David as he lifts my hand to inspect it. 

“Do you think he suffered?” David asks as he cocks his head to the side. 

“Do I think he suffered?” Doc Robbins parrots before pausing. 

“Yes. Definitely,” he finishes and I try to yell, but nothing will come out. 

I close my eyes before opening them again to the sound of laughter. I watch as they still stand over me, laughing. 

“All right, on three,” Robbins says before pausing. 

“Uno…” David starts off. “Dos…” Robbins jumps in. Tres!” They both yell out and all of a sudden Bob Newworth starts to play. 

“All right. Would you care to do the ‘y’ incision?” Robbins asks David and there's an audible shing sound. 

“Well ‘y’ not?” David asks as he takes the meat cleaver that passed over me and all I can do is watch. 

There’s a few audible crack sounds and a lot of slouchy sounds before Doc Robbins is getting out a chainsaw. He puts the chainsaw down before looking back at me. There’s another crack as he rips my ribs from my body only to toss them aside. 

“He won’t be needing this anymore,” he comments as he passes my liver to David. 

“Nice!” he says as he pulls more from my body and my eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“A lung,” Doc Robbins says as he passes that over me to David as well. 

Then all of a sudden my father stands over me across from Doc Robbins. He clasps his hands and gives a deadpan look.  

“So Doc… how did my son die? Anaphylactic shock?” he asks Doc Robbins, who chuckles. 

“No, no, he didn’t live long enough for that. COD was asphyxiation,” Doc Robbins answers in a very cheerful tone. 

“Oh!” My dad says in almost awe and I just watch on in confusion. 

“When the blood oxygen drops to less than 16% and the CO2 builds up there’s a rapid loss of consciousness. Death within minutes. With no disfiguring physical findings,” Doc Robbins explains in a cheery tone. 

“He’ll look great at the funeral,” my father comments with no hint of sadness in his voice. “Oh. Yes,” Robbins agrees. 

“His mother will appreciate that as well as his wife,” my father comments again and Robbins gives a small “good” In response. 

Robbins then reaches into my open chest and rips my heart out. He holds it up and it sounds like it’s still beating. 

“Your son had a good heart,” Robbins says before slapping it down into my fathers hand. 

Suddenly my eyes fly open and find I’m still in the box with ants still crawling all over me. I let out the smallest puff of air as I fight the feeling of the ants biting me. I close my eyes again and try to think of something, anything more pleasant. My mind wanders and I see an image of me at a counter holding a little girl:

“I love you Daddy,” she whispers into my ear as she lays her head against my shoulder and I lay mine against hers. My eyes fly open once more and more tears fall as my lip trembles my fight to get out renewed. 

To Be Continued…

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[princessbrunette]

im not a big john b girlie but you write him so well! your most recent one w toxicex!reader n all was so well written!

you seriously nail dialogue so well, they feel so human and their dialogue conveys such nuance and glimpses into their personality and motivations. i'm genuinely such an impressed by writing and incredible skill, you have such a seamless way with words, painting a really charged, and clear image of these characters and scenarios.

p.s some questions if youre willing to answer !

what got you into writing fan fiction?

do you write your own original stories, or are you more happy and comfortable exploring these fictional worlds as is?

would you say writing is an outlet for you, from life, or drama, or work?

when it comes to dialogue, what do you think is more important - what is said or what isn't and

do you have any particular literary inspirations for dialogue (i.e a film with good dialogue like 'before sunrise' or a novel like 'normal people' or something) or are you more thinking of just real, conversations or straight from shows (like outerbanks, and etc) and watching how they talk rather than trying to emulate any other style?

sorry if this sounds like an interview or if this is a bit much or overwhelming. i've been reading your stuff for like a good year now, and i'm just curious!

adore your work, hope all is well sending hugs n love :)) x

this is literally so sweet <3 made me so happy tysm!! of course i’ll answer ur questions ♡

what got you into writing fan fiction?

well tbh i’ve been writing ‘fanfiction’ since before i knew what it was. i’ve mentioned a few times on this blog but i had this little notebook (that i still have!) where i’d write loads of self insert stories when i was roughly 9-10 years old. i would insert myself into my favourite disney shows with the characters i had a crush on etc. it was my favourite thing to do, id bring my notebook with my everywhere and it could keep me entertained for hours! that’s probably where i got my start.

do you write your own original stories, or are you more happy and comfortable exploring these fictional worlds as is?

on tumblr particularly i’m more comfortable adapting universes that already exist because i enjoy the community i can / have built off relating characterisations with other people on the internet. i can have some sort of semblance of whether or not im doing an okay job based on the feedback. however, i grew up writing for a stage / screen too, which i’ve recently gotten back into and i do deeply enjoy creating a universe from scratch.

would you say writing is an outlet for you? from life, drama or work?

not particularly! moments in my real life have absolutely inspired by writing but i’m not sure i use it as an escape. as someone with autism, routine is really important to me. i write as part of my routine mostly every single day whether i post something or not — and if i don’t write i actually feel pretty thrown off. i also write in other forms, for example i love journalling. i think if anything were to be an outlet it would be that.

when it comes to dialogue, what do you think is more important? what is said or what isn’t?

that’s a really interesting question and honestly i’m not sure! i think it varies from fic to fic. i do think what isn’t said can be very powerful, however i believe in order to grasp what is being conveyed without words the reader would really need to understand the character — and to my understanding not every reader does. not only do i know that based off requests i receive occasionally trying to force characters into boxes i personally think they do not belong — but not everyone is here to understand, period. some readers are casual readers, just here to thirst because they saw a couple of edits they liked (which is great, no problem with that!) in which case i like to make my writing accessible to everyone and i try to make their intention as verbatim as possible.

do you have any particular literary inspirations for dialogue (i.e a film with good dialogue like 'before sunrise' or a novel like 'normal people' or something) or are you more thinking of just real, conversations or straight from shows (like outerbanks, and etc) and watching how they talk rather than trying to emulate any other style?

not any that i can remember! i focus more on trying to make my characters seem like they stepped directly off the show even if it’s based in an au. i want readers to be able to hear the intonation in their voice, understand why they’d stutter when they did, see their facial expression as they say it in their head the same way they would if they were watching outerbanks. however, when i read over my drabbles — i often reimagine them as if they were adapted to a film instead. i would give anything to watch all of my drabbles on a private screen, each of them produced in a sofia coppola style of cinema. that would be really fun and girly and aesthetically pleasing i think.

i hope that answered your questions adequately !! 🩷

[2goldendarkness]

I usually reblog, rather than make my own posts, but seeing everyone in the gaze community deal with their grief by writing things down has given me some courage to do the same. I hope it will help me in my grieving process and i hope to help everyone who does relate to what i write. So this will be my farewell letter.

Dear Reita,

I got the news seven days too late, like how it usually is for me coming into a fandom.

I became a fan about 8 years ago, i was doing a creative education as a designer, listening to random music on Youtube with autoplay. Suddenly i found Red, the first song that got me into the Gazette, i was glued to my screen and intrigued with the looks of all members. But why the hell was that one guy wearing a band around his nose? I needed to get into it. So i did.

The gazette then became my first and favorite Visual kei band, i’ve been trough a lot in my life and whenever hardship struck me, there was always an interview that would make me laugh. When i had boring days in school we even played a game, my friends would ask me “why is he covering his nose?” And i would make up the weirdest stories on the spot. That resulted in some charms with titles like ‘reita and the smelly drummer.’ And ‘reita the drugs dealer.’ It varied from poking fun and making up the stupidest thing, to making you some cool guy who fought bad guys. It would always make us laugh, even though, i was making up these stories to friends who weren’t even necessarily in the fandom, because everyone who saw you once, knew your name and so knew who you were.

I wrote fanfiction, many in where you play a big part of the story, not as a love interest, but as a brother of a character based off of me. All because you once said in a radio show that you feel like you’d be a great older brother, hell did i take you up on that one.

I never got to see The Gazette live, i used to curse you all for skipping my country and forcing me to travel for 5 hours to see you all. In 2018 i was almost at that point, but i couldn’t go because of my exams and because i had no friends who wanted to come with me. I always promised myself: one day, i will see them.

It hurts me to realize that day will never come, at least you won’t be there anymore. I accidentally open instagram, and find a grief post written by Hiroto of Alice nine, in the hashtags your name. Shock, that’s the first thing i felt. I must be going crazy. But next up was Miyavi’s post and as i read that it slowly starts downing upon me, my heart sinks to my stomach and a lump forms in my throat as i rush to jrocknews to confirm they aren’t just playing a sick joke.

I start crying like most of the sixth guns, but only after i start reading the members messages. Why am i crying? We’ve lost a talented bass player who inspired so many people to also start making music. The world lost ‘the world’s Reita’ who was always poking fun at the drummer. The bookstores lost their most unexpected romance buyer. Many lost their source of love and joy. I’ve lost my fictional brother.

But most importantly, your actual family lost a loving family member who bought his mother an entire house to repay her for raising him well. The Gazette lost a member. Kai lost his fear during interviews of whatever you are going to say next. Ruki lost being in your personal space no matter how big the dressing room. Aoi lost the person who’s jokes he could laugh the hardest about. Uruha lost his longtime best friend, and now can no longer feel your heart racing before the show, nor can he feel your hand searching for his heart.

I hope everyones feelings reach you, i hope that whichever way you passed, was peaceful and without pain. I hope that whenever it is our time, you come in your mustang to pick everyone up. Usually as a driving instructor i call shotgun, but i’ll leave that space to your close relatives. That way i can’t judge you for turning around while parking, rather than using your mirrors.

Thank you for everything Reita, you will never be forgotten. Once my grief is gone, i promise to remember you with a smile rather than cry. I also promise to be a fan of The Gazette no matter what they decide to do now you’re gone.

And to whomever read my entire message, thank you for reading this unhinged post.

[books]

Writing Workshop Week 2: Paying Attention

Welcome back, writers of tumblr! I’ve loved reading your prompt fills for Week 1 and answering your insightful questions, and I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with for this next prompt.

Last week we talked about the things we love, the things we go and retrieve, that we can hold in our hands. This week we’re talking about loving the things that find us, the parts of the world that come into our gaze by happenstance. In other words, the anatomic matter of all art: observation. 

Observation relies on attention, and our ability to attend relies on circumstance. It’s impossible to pay attention to everything at once, so the mind selects what to notice and what to ignore. Sometimes we attribute conclusions to our observations and move into perception. I think as children we make great observers, but when we grow up and gather enough experiences, we fall into the trap of mundanity. Things we’ve seen before and that we’ll see again, so they’re not worthy of note—eating breakfast, putting on your shoes, going to a restaurant and telling the host how many people are in your party. 

The art of noticing, of curating all the rich details of life, is a fight against mundanity. To do that, you have to carry your inner child around with you, pointing things out that you’ve seen a hundred times before and allowing yourself to witness them with new eyes. As writers, newness is a skill we can always improve. 

Airports are one way I practice newness. If I have to choose between a one-hour layover and a six-hour layover, I’ll always choose the latter. There’s no mundanity in airports. Aside from employees and people who travel frequently for business, everyone is doing something outside of their usual routine, and it’s so much easier to soak up the minutiae that we otherwise miss when we’re walking our usual daily paths. 

On Love

Someone once told me, “Love is paying attention.” The person who told me this was an artist and her subject was her family. Portraiture of the people she loved was the closest attention she could offer. And I agree—you naturally attend to that which you love. When you love a person, you pay attention to the clothes they wear, the tenor of their laugh, their mannerisms, the things they carry in their purse or pockets. But I think it can also be expanded: the more attention you pay to yourself, the more you love yourself. The more attention you pay to the world, the more you love the world. This idea can be a two-way street: love will direct your attention; attention will lead you to love. In other words, if you practice paying attention, you will come to love things more than you already do.

A quick note about neurodivergence: some people attend to the world differently than others, in different patterns and with different guiding forces. Some people have the ability to shift attention quickly, and some slowly. Some people have more control over their attention than others. Some people attend more closely to certain senses (like hearing or feeling) than others. Wherever you’re at, whatever is driving your ability to notice, use it as a strength. There is no mode of observation that is inherently better or worse than another.

Many writers struggle with motivation to write. I have come to reluctantly agree that there is some discipline necessary in being a writer. I don’t believe in “butt in chair every day” mentality, but I do think any skill requires a patterned dedication no matter what your practice looks like. A self-promise. That promise is much more easily kept if you focus on love. 

I don’t mean writing love stories (although that’s often what motivates me). I mean sincerely meditating on what love means to you. What you love, who you love. I’ve participated in so many generative workshops and there’s always a moment I receive a prompt and go, “I have no idea what to write about.” And then I ask myself, “What do I love?” Many things come to me, both big and small, abstract and concrete. I love my family and friends. I love to travel. I love holding a book in my hands and the satisfaction of turning its pages. I love parts of myself and I don’t love others, and this is something I’m working on. 

When you ask the question, “What do I write about?” the answer can always be love. When I ask my students to write about what they love, some of them write about their relationships—the joy of a present relationship or the ache of a past one. They write about their hobbies and friends and interests. Once I had a boy write twenty pages of poetry about frogs. Some people write about passion that toes the edge of love and hate. Love is not always good. Love can be destructive. It can motivate people to cruelty; it can distort perception. Love can be complicated and weird. Love can lead to regret. But love is a strong feeling, and strong feelings drive creativity. 

On Sharing

I think sharing the things you notice, the way you see the world, is an act of love. Carrying around your inner child to show them what they’ve never seen is a way to nourish yourself, replenish what you expend. You can apply this to any aspect of writing you want to work on. If you want to set a story where you live, you can go around your city pretending you’re showing it to someone who’s never been there. If you want to develop your characters, pretend you’re about to introduce a close friend to someone else, and you know they’re going to get along once they meet. If you want to better explore your themes, pretend you’re talking to someone who has no concept at all of your worldview, who maybe has an opposing worldview but is interested in learning yours.

People, especially writers, can be so afraid to put themselves into the world. To see and be seen. But when you begin to view sharing as an act of love, it becomes easier to listen, to bear witness and say, “Thank you for sharing that with me.” And when you say that enough to others, it also becomes easier to share yourself, in hopes that you’ll be met with gratitude.

Prompt time!

What I’d like you to do today—or tomorrow, if it’s late—is to notice three things. Three seemingly insignificant details, things you would otherwise forget or maybe not even see (or feel, hear, etc.). Bonus points if you write them down in a notebook, but the notes app on your phone will do.

Even if you don’t want to do it, simply by virtue of reading this, I think you’ll begin noticing things. If you’re a very observant person with a good working memory, maybe you can think of three things you observed earlier, and maybe that’s effortless for you. If this is you, your task is to write not just three observations, but three paragraphs of observation throughout the day. 

Here’s an example: I am at this aesthetically pleasing coffee shop but I’m concentrating on the flimsy paper menu fluttering beneath a fan, held down with a ceramic plate. The tapping sound of my sister’s acrylic nails on her MacBook. My own self-consciousness that everyone has a better sense of style than I do. One of the baristas is a young man who looks like an ex of mine, and I’m wondering where that ex is, if his hairline has fully receded, if he still works at FedEx, if he ever married that nice veterinarian’s assistant who was way too good for him and always wore tye-dyed t-shirts for some reason, and I honestly liked her a lot, she seemed like a genuinely good person, and he knew it too and that was why he treated her well, so why had he treated me so poorly? 

And now I have a narrative question: Why do people hurt some loved ones and not others? What is it about the chemistry two people make that causes this to happen? The only way to answer these questions is to either live it all again and take notes—and I’ve had too much therapy for that—or write a story about characters navigating this chasm I’ve found in my understanding of being human. And I got all that from sitting here on this uncomfortable stool in this nondescript coffee shop, hanging out with my sister on a Friday afternoon.

I recommend taking an entire day to find your three things. You’ll find many more than three, but for the purpose of this activity, I think focusing on the three most interesting or compelling ones is best. Once you have your three things I’d like you to work them all into a piece of writing. Here are some ways you can approach this:

If you want to write nonfiction, write about your day, focusing on building around your three things to eventually pull a story out of them, the way I did above. Follow the associations and memories that arrive to you.  

If you want to write fiction, write those three details into a new story or the world of your current work in progress. If you’re not sure how, make the first your inciting incident, put the second in the middle of the story, and end the piece with the third. 

If you want to write poetry, make a poem of your three observations, and note what happens to the meaning when you squeeze three disparate observations together. 

If you want to do something experimental, convey your three things with a stylistic constraint of your choice. For example, write only in sentence fragments (by that I mean, no verbs).  

A quick caveat: You might be thinking, but Betts, I write science fiction (or fantasy, horror, etc.) and so nothing in reality is of relevance to me. I would argue that everything you perceive in reality can be applied to all things that are created. You think they don’t have pretentious coffee shops in space? Well, maybe not. And definitely not in a magical version of medieval Europe. But there might be something akin to a nondescript strip mall in Midwest America with cracked asphalt, half abandoned, with some kind of sketchy dentist or urgent care in it and a vape shop. Every place, even places that don’t exist, possess some realistic texture, and when you render these images, that space becomes real to the reader. You could argue, even, that the goal of genre fiction is the highest possible suspension of disbelief. And the only way to do that is to make the world you build feel as lived-in as reality.

Questions? Ask ‘em here before EOD Tuesday so @bettsfic can answer them on Wednesday. And remember to tag your work #tumblr writing workshop with betts if you want her to read your work and possibly feature it on Friday!

And, for those just joining us: @bettsfic is running a writing workshop on @books this month. Want to know more? Start here.

[a-separate-peace-musical]

A Secret Peace

Again, I want to thank everyone supporting this project. It’s actually mind-boggling to me and I’m so grateful.

Here’s the lyrics for another song: A Secret Peace. Finny tells Gene his conspiracy theory about the war as they train for the Olympics. This one was so fun to write.

The words in italics are just dialogue

—

FINNY

I think it’s obvious if you look under the surface

GENE

What’s obvious?

FINNY

Why they’re forcing us into service

You know the Roaring 20s? A time of jazz and fun

People did what they wanted, they were wild and young

But the old men, who run the country didn’t like that much

So they tried Prohibition, but that was a bust

They caused the Depression and that worked on our parents

But they needed something else for us

GENE

What are you saying?

FINNY

The war, it isn’t happening

It’s just a grand old story

They’ll control us with fear and rationing

While they eat steak in their mansions in glory

GENE

Are—are you serious?

FINNY

It’s all a charade

A game that they’ve played for decades

They keep us afraid in this world that they’ve made

GENE

That’s very amusing, Finny, but I hope you don’t play this game too much with yourself. You might start to believe it, and then I’d have to make a reservation for you down at the Funny Farm.

FINNY

The whole world is a Funny Farm today

Just think about it

The old men made this and we’re stuck in the middle

They’ve hidden the truth, twisted like a riddle

There’s a secret peace and they won’t show it

It’s all one big joke and only they know it

GENE

And you

FINNY

Yes, and me

GENE

And what makes you so special? Why should you get it and all the rest of us be in the dark?

FINNY

Because I’ve suffered!

Heavy silence

FINNY

Did I ever tell you I was training for the Olympics?

GENE

No, you didn’t.

FINNY

Well, I was. And now I’m not sure I’ll be, you know, completely in shape by 1944. So I’ll train you for them instead.

GENE

There won’t be an Olympics in 1944. ‘Cause of the war…

FINNY

Leave your fantasy out of this. We’re grooming you for the Olympics in 1944, pal.

GENE

I can see/it’s foolhardy

But I don’t suppose there’s any harm in aiming for a dream

And peace returns to Devon

Only for me

As the days go by we fall into a rhythm

Our own separate vision

Of the world and its inner workings

He keeps up the charade

And I find myself falling in the

World that he’s made

FINNY

It’s all a conspiracy

Just think about it

GENE

And so I thought about it

It was true, our view of the war was distant

Only what was told us

We saw nothing with our own eyes

Maybe this was their way to mold us

Maybe there’s no real threat

And maybe we won’t have to die yet

And I know I don’t believe him

But it’d be nice if it were true

So I partake in this game of innocence

As we train, just us two

And we establish our own secret peace

Separate from harsh reality

And my fears of the war, they all slip away

Like dew in the sunlight, evaporating

And suddenly I know/my place is right here

With him, in our secret and separate peace

And I feel like I just dodged a bullet

I feel like I dodged a barrage

The tidal wave has passed us by, for now

Peace returns to Devon

Only for him and me

And suddenly I know/my place is right here

With him, in our secret and separate peace

Yes, now I know/my place is right here

With him, in our secret and separate peace

[kaytheday]

I'd love to see a snippet from #2 for the tag challenge!!

Yes, I’ve actually written a ton for this one, so I’ll include the first 1000 words below the cut. This is through the eyes of an OC. She came to Tulsa because her dad kicked her out and she meets Soda on her first day there. Later in the story she tries to get custody of her baby brother Oliver from her father. She goes to Darry for help because he has experience with social workers.

I know a lot of people don’t like OC’s, but I do because I get more ideas for longer fics about them and it makes it easier to write in the first person.

I have officially published this as a fic on a03! Link here!

Anyway… The first 1000 words are below the cut.

I try in vain to keep my eyes dry as I prepare to go into the gas station. I needed gas for my car but I wasn’t about to break down crying in front of the gas station attendant. Not after I basically cried the entire 7 hour drive here. So I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to think about Mississippi and Oliver and what kind of peril I was leaving him in. I put shaking hands into my coat pockets and forced a smile on my face as I entered the gas station.

“Evenin’ miss, what can I do you for?” It was a sweet boy manning the counter, he looked about my age with golden brown hair and fine features. He was grinning too big for his face as he looked at me expectantly.

“Hi, I just needed some gas.” I hand him the $3 I’ve been fingering and he smiles big again putting it into the register.

“Sure, you…” I look at his hair and think of Olivers baby blonde hair, I should never have left him. I shouldn’t have trusted my father and left him in that house. My eyes snap back into focus and I see the worker looking at me strangely, that smile still on his face.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked you if you wanted me to pump your gas for you?”

“You guys do that here?”

“Yeah,” He smiled. “Well when we’re bored enough and the customer is mighty pretty.” I smiled slightly, hardly mustering the energy to say thank you. I knew I was probably coming off as strange and spacey, but I couldn't bring myself to care. It wasn’t like I would ever see this handsome stranger again.

I followed him out to my car and watched as he pumped the gas.

“Mississippi plates, huh?” He asked. “You visiting family?”

“Something like that. I just moved here for the rest of the school year.”

“Oh, cool.” He asked me a couple more things about Mississippi while I glazed over the questions. I really didn’t want to lay my troubles on some random gas station employee.

He finished, I smiled and thanked him, setting on my way to find some address in a crappy neighborhood. My aunt probably didn’t expect me to be coming this early. I didn’t care, I was exhausted and I just wanted to go to sleep. I drove in circles not being able to find this stupid house. Then I decided it might just be easier to ask someone walking on the street. They’d know this town better then me. So I stopped the next guy I found. He was wearing a ball cap, blue jeans, and a brown coat over a blue button up.

“Excuse me…” when he turned around, I saw it was the same guy working from the gas station.His face broke out into a big goofy smile.

“Well hello again, miss Mississippi.”

“Hi.” I said sheepishly.

“Just couldn’t leave me alone, could ya?”

“I guess not, I was just wondering if you could help me find this address. But I can give you a ride home so you don’t have to walk in the cold.” He smiled again.

“Sure.” I unlocked the car and he hopped in, starting directions to his house. In between directions I managed to get my bearings and ask him about himself. It was better if I could focus the conversation on him.I learned he was the middle of three boys, his parents had died, and he’d lived in Tulsa before we got to his house. Two cars were already parked out front. It was a humble home with red brick pillars and a white finish.

“Your castle awaits, prince.” I joked as he started to open the door. He laughed and turned to look at me seriously.

“Do you have dinner plans?” I shook my head sheepishly, I had planned on getting to my aunts and going straight to bed. “Do you want dinner plans? I think it’s just me and my brothers tonight.” I weighed my options. He seemed nice enough and it warmed my heart that at least one person would be excited about my presence in Tulsa. My aunt definitely wouldn’t care.

“Sure.” I parked the car and he opened the door for me as I got out. “My name is Robin by the way.”

“Sodapop Curtis.” He grinned and we officially shook hands. We went inside and I followed suit as he took his shoes and coat off. There were sounds coming from the kitchen. An auburn haired boy who looked like Sodapop was sitting at the kitchen counter reading while another older boy was stirring something in a pot.

“Hey Sodapop.” The big one said without looking up. And golly he was big. He had arms that were big enough to kill me. He looked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked at Sodapop lovingly, then he saw me and looked confused.

“Oh, yeah. This is Robin, she’s new in town so I invited her for dinner.” I smiled and put my hand up in a sort of half wave. “Robin, this is my big brother Darry and my little brother Ponyboy.” Ponyboy waved without looking up from his book while Darry strode forward to shake my hand. His grip was firm and his eye contact was unwavering. Up close it became obvious that he could easily kill me. But instead he smiled and welcomed me.

“Well, we’re happy to have you Robin, you can sit down, dinner will be ready in a couple minutes.” I assumed he was making pasta from the pot and the shredded cheese on the table.

“Thanks, is there anything I can help with?”

“Not at this point.” Soda had disappeared upstairs and I was left to sit at the table with Ponyboy. He was reading what looked like a Jack London book. I started to say something, but thought better of it and focused on my hands in my lap.

“So Robin,” Darry started. “Soda said you’re new in town. Where are you from?” These questions were easy.

“I’m from Mississippi, Batesville if you know where that is.”

“I haven't, but then again I’ve never been to Mississippi. What brings you to Tulsa?” I remembered a trick I’d learned early on. To avoid answering a question you didn’t want to answer, you just had to fill the response with fluff so it made it seem like you had answered it.

“I came to finish out the school year. I heard that schools here were better than the ones in Batesville. But this is a much better town than Batesville is already. I mean… inviting me into your home and all. Thanks again for this by the way, nobody in Batesville would ever do something like this.” Before I can overthink any of those statements and how desperate and pathetic they sound, Darry just laughs a little.

“Of course, it’s no big deal. Most of the time we have seven hungry boys here for dinner. I always cook more than I need to anyway.” I smile and let out a little sigh of relief. At least he cooked more food than he needed to anyway. Before Darry can ask any more questions, Sodapop comes bounding down the stairs in jeans and a white T-shirt. He’s still smiling and I’m starting to think that his face is permanently like that.

“Soda, set the table, would you?”

“Sure.” Soda says and starts setting stuff out. Ponyboy finally puts his book up. It’s Call of the Wild.

“Are you reading that for school?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s not so bad though.”

“Yeah, I always liked reading Jack London. The Sea Wolf was my favorite.” He smiles slightly and begins chattering about Call of the Wild and its similarities to White Fang. Darry finishes and we all dish up our food. We sit down and Sodapop begins telling a story about an old man that threatened to fight his co-worker Steve the other day. I’m glad the dinner feels normal, I think I might have started crying if it was an interrogation. Then they ask Ponyboy questions about school. The kid seems quiet and in his head, but I can tell that they both love him so much. As much as I love Oliver.After dinner, I insist on helping with the dishes. I wash while Sodapop drys. Then I plan to make my leave.

“Well, thank you so much for dinner Darry. Very good to meet all of you but I should get going.”

“You're welcome, very good to meet you too Robin.” Darry says, then he smiles and goes back to what he was doing.

“Yeah,” Ponyboy says quietly. “Good to meet you too.” Then he heads upstairs to his room.

“I’ll walk you out to your car.” Sodapop says and I almost melt at how sincere he sounds. He holds my arm as I walk down the steps. The cold biting at me through my coat.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay tonight? It’s a pretty far drive.” I smiled, laughing softly at his joke. My aunt's house was only a couple streets away.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you so much for this by the way. It’s been really nice to meet some new people here.”

“Of course.” Then he fumbles into his jean pocket, pulling out a slip of paper with some scrappy handwriting on it. “Here is our home phone number. You can call if you ever need a place to sleep or eat, or anything like that.” I smile and turn to stare at the ground.

“Thanks Soda. This means a lot.”

“Sure.” He says, grinning from ear to ear. “Drive home safe, will ya?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see you around.” So I leave, driving down a couple streets to a place that I know I’m not wanted.

I have finally published this as a fic on a03! I will include the link here!

[fookinavocadosman]

episode 5: someone to you {HS}

y/n and harry have been growing closer after their night in the suite. The boys have an emotional day, and new temptations arrive on the island.

warnings: none that i can think of

word count: 1.8k

The past couple of days have been great. Mostly everyone’s been on their best behavior and somewhat getting along. Harry and I are doing amazing, after the night in the suite we have been attached at the hip. Only leaving each other when we’re forced apart by the others. 

Brooke refuses to interact with me but is now trying to get in between Louis and Sage and let’s just say Sage is not taking any of her shit. If I had to take a shot every time Sage and Brooke have almost gotten into a fistfight over Louis I’d have alcohol poisoning. 

The bedroom is filled with unspoken tension as all the boys have left to attend a workshop. Small conversation is being made between the six of us as we eagerly wait for the boy's return. As Riley is telling a story about her worst hookup when she’s interrupted by loud screams. We all quiet as we listen to the deep yells before I laugh. 

“What the hell are they doing?” I giggle as everyone else begins to laugh, the tension slowly dissolving. More facts are learned about each other, more yells can be heard from the boys, and we decide to leave the bedroom tired of being holed up in here all day. 

The sun is starting to set as we make our way to one of the daybeds big enough to fit us that overlooks the ocean as we see the boys running into the water. I look confused as they all are covered in a brown substance and I lean over to Riley. 

“What the fuck is all over them?” I ask her and she shrugs. 

“Not a clue, maybe mud?” She answers and I nod, scanning my eyes over the group until they finally land on Harry. He looks so small from this distance his wet swim trunks clinging to his legs as he cleans his body with the water. The boys all eventually gather in a circle splashing each other before high-fiving and heading up to us. We all cheer for them as they break into a light jog heading toward us. 

Harry finds his way to me picking me up from the couch as I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. One of his arms wraps around my waist while the other holds the back of my thigh for stability. My head lays on his shoulder as he walks away from everyone towards the bathroom. He sets me on the counter pulling back slightly before placing his forehead on mine. 

“How was the workshop?” I ask him as I play with the wet curls on the back of his neck and he hums. 

“It was good, it was nice.” He answers me and I smile as he leans in peppering kisses all over my face. My legs are still wrapped around his hips and I dig my heels into his back slightly to pull him closer. 

“Let me shower and change and I’ll tell you more about the workshop.” He speaks up and I nod, dropping my legs and freeing him from my grasp. He places one more kiss on my cheek before finally pulling away and hopping in the shower. 

I jump down from the counter and change from my swimsuit into more comfortable clothes heading out to the cabana and laying down on one of the daybeds. Harry eventually joins me and we cuddle together resting in comfortable silence. My head is laying on his shoulder as my leg is thrown over his hips, his arms caging me in. 

“So what did you do at the workshop?” I ask him and he sighs. 

“We basically had to let our guards down and connect with each other. I was partnered with Zayn and I wasn’t too happy at first and then it got really weird cause we had to rub mud all over each other.” He starts and I listen, adjusting myself to look at him. 

“Then we had to write a couple of things that are holding us back and that's where Zayn and I really connected. We’re more similar than I ever would’ve thought, we all hugged and then we destroyed those papers and it felt really liberating.” He finishes explaining and I send him a soft smile. 

“Can I ask what you wrote?” I whisper and he lets out a long breath. 

“I wrote trust issues, pride, and fear.” He whispers and I sit up to fully give him my attention. He adjusts his body as well, grabbing my hands. 

“I don’t want this to seem like I’m trying to make you feel guilty or feel anything for the mistakes I’ve made already, but I have a lot of trust issues and fear when it comes to relationships. I don’t know exactly where it stems from but I am trying my absolute hardest with us because I don’t want to lose what we have.” He explains to me and I nod my head reassuring him.

“I do too Harry, that’s why I was so hurt when all that shit happened with Brooke. I had let my guard down and started opening up but then all of a sudden Brooke popped in and I was terrified that I lost you.” 

“And I’m so sorry for that Y/N, I let my pride get in the way of wanting to prove you wrong but I should’ve never let it even start. I can never make up for that but I will try my hardest.” Harry grabs my face between his hands as tears well up in my eyes with the emotional moment. 

“You being with me is enough, that’s all I want.” I whisper to him and he rests his forehead on mine, his lips pressing a kiss to my nose. 

“I really want to be with you if you’ll have me.” He says his thumb rubbing my cheek. 

“Yes, Harry. I’m yours.” I answer him and he laughs pulling me into him. Our watches ding and I laugh as well as his lips crash into mine and we share a sweet kiss. When it ends a smile lines my face and I keep my eyes closed breathing him in. 

“That couldn’t have been more perfect.” Harry whispers and I nod against him, opening my eyes. His are still closed but a smile lines his face, his dimple popping out. 

We eventually get summoned to the cabana and everyone is confused as to why we’ve been called. No one has broken any rules in the past couple of days. Lana eventually perks up bringing us to silence. 

“Liam, I have been evaluating your performance so far. You have not been showing any signs of personal growth or obeying the rules. Insufficient progress has been made. Liam, your time in the retreat is over.” We all gasp as she finishes and Liam stands up with a huff. 

“Fucking finally I hated this place.” He says and I sit back as he walks toward the back leaving us. We sit in silence as we all come to terms with what just happened. The mood is off and everyone calls it an early night unsettled with the way things have been gone. 

Harry pulls me close to him running his hand up and down my back to soothe me. As we lay together, my eyes eventually close and I slip away to sleep dreaming about the new chapter in my life that I’m about to embark on. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s an awkward tension in the air. Anxiety radiates off of everyone. As I sit with the girls in the dressing room getting ready for the day we all wonder who is going to be the next to leave. Ava has brought up the point that anything can happen now and it doesn’t settle anyone. The boys have been outside waiting for us and once we're all ready we head down to the beach soaking in the sun or shade. 

As we relax Riley points out a boat heading toward us and we can see three figures on it. We all start walking towards the middle of the beach and that's when I notice two guys and a girl heading towards us. Harry stays close to me as each of the new arrivals wraps us in hugs as they introduce themselves. 

The first guy is Luke, he’s 22, from Australia and is an engineer, Michael is 23, also from Australia, and he is an influencer and lastly, Kenzie she’s 25 from Ireland and she's a model. After everyone is introduced we sit down on the benches in front of Lana as she dings. We cheer for her as she speaks. 

“Welcome Luke, Michael, and Kenzie. I trust you will all make the residents feel at home.” She speaks and we all confirm her answer as Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me closer to him. 

“The new arrivals are here to begin their own journey towards making deeper connections. I hope you will be able to show them how far you’ve all come.” We all laugh at her phrasing before Brooke starts to quiz the newcomers on their types. We all separate for the day, some people taking interest in the newcomers. And by some people, Brooke is all over Luke like it’s nobody's business. 

Personally, I’m happy cause she’s finally off Sage and mine’s back meaning she won’t be trying to get with our guys. But with the newcomers tension rises between some couples. Kenzie tried to pull some moves with Zayn while he was alone and let’s just say Ava did not appreciate that one bit. 

Once dominance and boundaries were silently established we got ready for tonight's party. We all hang out at the beach dancing and laughing together as the alcohol runs through our veins. 

Eventually, we all separate, some going to talk alone and some mingling in the cabana. Harry and I are settled into the cabana with Zayn, Ava, and Michael. We are all talking to Michael about how he liked his first day when Lana dings. 

“Hello Zayn and Ava, I have noticed neither of you have been tempted by the new arrivals. This shows strength in your deepening connection. You have taken your relationship to the next level, this has unlocked a night in the private suite.” I gasp as she finishes about to jump out of my seat for them, the only thing keeping me grounded is Harry holding onto my waist. Lana explains the purpose of the suite to them before wishing them luck. They stand ready to leave and I trap Ava in a hug. 

“Have a great night sweetie.” I smile at her and she thanks me before grabbing Zayn's hand and leaving with him to the private suite. Michael is left with us and we continue to talk until we decide to call it a night. 

I leave Harry alone in bed while I shower and when I join him he’s fast asleep. I crawl under the covers and he pulls me into his chest still asleep, I smile as I let the feeling of security and comfort wash over me as I lay in his arms.

tag list: @golden-hoax @nikkisimps @matildasatellite @tiaamberxx @behindmygreyeyes @panicattheuc @jessitpwk @my-munson-styles @hislcstyles @that-one-little-soybean @harringt8ns @rafaaoli @tenaciousperfectionunknown if ur name is in red that means ur tag doesn’t work :(

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Guess who continues to make themself cry with their own ideas? This gal :)

This idea has been in the drafts for a long time and because @crazycriter was interested I’ve finally decided to finish this behemoth of a post and the sequel in my drafts I’m debating on posting as well. I hope this lives up to your expectations in ways my big fic likely will not when I (hopefully) post it somewhere next week 💜

A few months ago I made a biiigggg AU post starring Lamina and Treech, and in most of them they’re siblings because family angst and all that. But them being in a romantic relationship opens up whole new doors!! So lets talk about one of my 25th Hunger Games AU’s, and I’ll expand on another one like I said I would in that past post. This will not be random AU blurbs like the past post, this will be a pretty detailed plot synopsis because I may write this if there’s enough interest. Only after I’ve both posted the big one-shot and finished The Losing Battle We Won’t Stop Fighting, because I try to limit myself to actively working on 3 WIP’s and I’ve got one lined up to fill one of those two spots already. With that out of the way, let’s go! :)

Basic concept:

So I had two main ideas for an alternate first quarter quell. The one that’s relevant for today’s barrage of my madness is the AU where the tributes are picked from the families of the victors, to show that even the strongest cannot protect their loved ones from the Capitol’s might (and monstrousness). Well, how about we change that from being unable to protect their loved ones, to being unable to protect their lovers. The only exception is if said lover is also a previous victor, because the 75th games was the first time they broke the promise that victors wouldn’t have to go into the arena again. To truly hammer in the message, the victors won’t be mentoring this year. Instead, the gamemakers are going back to the original system where the top performing academy students mentor the tributes in the hopes of winning a monetary prize. Previous victors are not allowed to even see their lovers, let alone talk to them. As for what kind of tributes will fight in the games this year… Pretty much all the victors stay far away from love the first few years after their victory, because the deep sea of trauma that comes with watching 23 kids die in the span of days and knowing that you’re only alive because of their horrific fates isn’t very conducive to building a healthy relationship. Therefore, the people now eligible to be picked as tributes are all pretty far into adulthood, the wives and husbands of the victors of the first few games, mostly.

The part where LumberKids/LumberLove/Lameech/Treemina becomes relevant:

District seven has only had one female victor so far, which is Lamina, and she and Treech were in a relationship before she was reaped. If there are any gay victors, they don’t have a boyfriend anyone knows of. Her talking about him in her interview and her mentor sending people to district seven to interview Treech during the games are a big part as to why she won, since it gained her a whole bunch of sponsors. They’re both well-known and beloved in the capitol, and the fact that the people love their love story so much is the only reason Lamina wasn’t forced into the more… unsavory side effects that come with being a victor (side eyes Finnick Odair I think it’s pretty clear age isn’t a dealbreaker for them). Because of this, Treech is the only possible male tribute for the Quarter Quell, and due to the before mentioned usual mental health break from dating he’s also the only minor who becomes a tribute. The person closest to him in age is over 25, and due to him being from the poorer area (headcanon) of one of the poorer districts (canon), he’s also the least well-fed. He doesn’t live with Lamina, and despite her offering he refuses most of the benefits her victory gave her because he’d rather give it to his family. All the other tributes are living with their partners, and thus healthier than Treech is. Their brains and bodies are fully developed and they’ve got a lot more life experience than he does, so all the odds are against him here.

The reaping is a sombre affair, because for a brief moment the district rejoiced at not having to send in their kids for once. It’s still horrible, but even the girlfriends/wives that are now gonna have to fight to the death are okay with it because at least they had a good run on earth and, for one year, their daughters are safe. But then they remember that there’s only one boy who qualifies for the reaping, and the mood sours instantly. All the other districts get to send in adults, but they’re still gonna lose a child. It’s not fair. There are still two bowls, and after the oldest woman (roughly in her forties) volunteers, the escort tries her damnest to be cheery as she swirls her hand in the bowl for the guys. It’s almost like she’s trying to prolong the inevitable, because there’s only one piece of paper lying innocently at the bottom and there’s only one person standing on the right side of the podium. It’s impossible for her to not feel any sympathy when the only sound filling the square is Lamina’s muffled sobs. After she finally reads out the name, Treech steps forward, far past the initial horror. Reality hasn’t quite crashed down on him yet, but the claws have been sunk into his soul for long enough that he’s dissociated.

He looks like he does during the reaping in the movie, but while the escort gives out her little speech tears do shimmer in his eyes. More due to Lamina’s obvious distress and his inability to console her than the fact that he’s probably going to die. He feels… numb, on that front. It doesn’t quite feel real. When the escort takes the hands of the tributes to raise them in the air, Treech stares blankly for a second before wiping the tears from his face and raising his chin high because he knows how the games work. Again, Lamina won partially due to the sponsors he helped her get. If there’s anything he learned from watching her games it’s that if you want to win, you have to be interesting. If you’re not, people will only bet on your odds of winning, and those are decidedly not in Treech’s favor. Especially since his age is going to be a stigma that’ll make people hesitant to bet on him. No matter how skilled he is, the simple fact that he’s so young will hang over his head. He’ll have to twist the odds he does have control over to balance it out. The one advantage he has is that he’s the only tribute that the capitol already knows and cares about, and they really like him. He’s a capitol favorite, despite seemingly having very low chances of surviving even the first day in the arena, let alone actually winning.

For the opening ceremony, the district 7 stylists lean into the nature aspect of their industry rather than their produce. The female tribute, who I’ll call Ascaia, wears a long dress made of colorful leaves and flowers. She gets a flower crown as well. Treech, on the other hand, has a less flashy outfit. Green pants and a green, sleeveless top that look like they’re made of leaves. His arms are covered with what looks like vines, and his outfit has subtle golden elements to give it a little pop. On his head is a golden laurel wreath, a symbol of triumph and victory. Two nature spirits, one bold and wild, the other calm and peaceful. They catch attention immediately, and after the ceremony they’re introduced to their mentors.

Treech’s mentor ends up being Pliny “Pup” Harrington, who somehow met and befriended Lamina during one of her visits to the capitol, though Treech had never met him before. Pup pulled some strings to switch assigned tributes with another mentor so he could give his friend’s boyfriend the best help he could possibly get. Not that the other student minded switching, given how disastrous everyone perceives Treech’s chances to be. Pup tries not to get too attached, but they end up becoming close friends by the time the week is up. Aside from Pup passing messages between the two lovebirds, they discuss strategy both in the game and out of it. Pup’s dad has clout because of his position in the navy, and Pup is fully using that to his advantage. People jump at the chance of getting in his good graces, so quite a few sponsors warm up to the idea of supporting him, although most are still on the fence. They may be swayed by the training scores, and that’s where it gets a little difficult. Treech has to decide how to approach these scores, and he has to decide carefully. On one hand, he can play fully into the “underdog destined to die soon” act that he cannot escape no matter what he does by getting a score around 2 to 4, but that risks putting off the sponsors who don’t want to invest in tributes that have no chance of making it. Or he could lean into getting sponsors by getting a high score and risk putting a massive target on his back, which is a horrible idea because his whole strategy is to play the long game. Stay hidden, away from fights, and sneak around. Prepare to use the deteriorated state of the last remaining tributes to his advantage at the end of the games. It’s a lot harder to stay out of danger when people are actively hunting you down. Especially because a lot of the other tributes could body Treech no problem when it comes to raw physical strength. So, he and Pup decide to go with the middle option and aim for a mid score. Not low enough to turn off sponsors but not high enough to really stand out. I’m not sure at what point training was implemented, but for the sake of the story I’m gonna say there was a massive technological development in the 15 years between the 10th and 25th hunger games so training is pretty much just like in the 74th and 75th games.

During training, Treech spends most of his time at the survival stations. He’s already good at climbing and fire-starting because he’s from district seven, but the rest is mostly new. Most tributes gravitate towards the weapons stations, but Treech ignores them in the interest of remaining as far under the radar as possible. The second and third day the weapons stations are empty enough for Treech to use them in short bursts, mostly the knives (at Pup’s suggestion, since they’re very common and versatile). He deliberately flubs the ax station, balancing it so that he’s good enough to be believable (since he is from the lumber district) but bad enough to not be considered a threat. The private session comes, and Treech needs to choose one skill to show the gamemakers. It’s a tough choice between the edibles, axes, and climbing, but since he doesn’t wanna risk straining his muscles too much he goes with edibles. They saw him climb plenty during the open training sessions, as it was his way of not losing his muscle strength without showing all his cards to the other tributes. It lands him a solid 6, showing sponsors he’s not hopeless without being outstanding enough that other tributes will pay more attention to him.

Lastly, it’s time for the interview. The only real advantage Treech has is that, again, the capitol already knows him. They loved Lamina, in part because they loved her relationship with him. He was central to her story and instrumental to her victory, and the Capitol adores him for it. And Treech milks it for all it’s worth. Most of his interview is spent talking about his life back in district seven after Lamina’s return, and his short stories about their hijinks with their friends leaves everyone aw’ing. He makes sure to also build up his own personality, sharing things about him that aren’t necessarily connected to Lamina so he comes off more genuine instead of making this sound like a shallow attempt at profiting from his girlfriend’s victory. So he’ll mention carving wooden figurines for her and shows everyone a small wooden box he made in the capitol as a gift to his stylist, to both reinforce his love for his girlfriend and showcase his individuality. It works, because Lamina won the 23d games (at 15. Treech is 16-17 during the 25th games) so he’s got a lot of room to work with. Their story happened recently enough that it’s still fresh in everyone’s mind, but long enough ago that it’s mostly smoldering coals for Treech to reignite without it feeling like a rehash of this sick reality show’s previous ‘plotlines’.

Treech manages to successfully recapture the hearts of the capitol citizens, and he becomes a favorite to win. Now he’s done all he can with his time in the capitol, and he’s a few hours away from going into the arena. Pup informs him that all the victors have to watch from back home, set on the stage so the entire district can see their reactions to their lovers fighting for their lives. In response, Treech carves Lamina one last figurine. A heart laid on a bed of dahlias and roses, symbolizing eternal love. From the top of one of the arches of the heart, a small bouquet of hyacints and poppies cascaded slightly over the edge. Hyacinths represent sorrow and regret, but also forgiveness, whereas poppies symbolize remembrance. The message was clear: “Our love is eternal. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together, please forgive me for leaving you so soon. I love you.”

Just before Treech is taken to the arena, he gives the figurine to Pup and asks him to give it to his girlfriend for him. Pup agrees to give it to Lamina, but only if Treech promises he’ll do whatever it takes to be the one leaving that arena alive. Not just for Lamina, or for Treech’s family and friends back home, but for Pup as well. Treech promises to do what he can, and they both know he can’t do much more than that. They hug one last time, and then Treech is escorted to the arena.

Will he keep his promise? Will he live? Will he die in the first 30 seconds? Will he go insane? I know, but if you want me to write this as an actual story I’ll keep some details to myself :D