#sorry if the descriptions don’t make sense i was trying to write as much as i could but i ran out of room lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

guilty-pleasures21 · 3 months ago

Note

i have this fun take that jason works his crime lord stuff at warehouse with his goons however none other bats could go in (he forbids it) except the bat theme vigilante! reader. Sometimes the reader just go there, whether visit him to help her with her cases or annoy jason bc ofc she can, well she is his best friend slash badass girlfriend. However sometimes his goons just wondering what are their relationship without prying too much on their boss’ life. I would hope you like this request (if youre in the mood to write it) and I hope that makes sense tho because english is not my first language

The warehouse

Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry I took so long, babe! I was racking my brain every night trying to come up with a coherent storyline 😅! This is fun though! I like to imagine Reader just making Jason look silly, but he allows it because he’s head over heels for her!

Warnings: implicit descriptions of sex (male x female).

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She burst through the roof and landed on the balcony overlooking the interior of the old abandoned factory. Well, ‘abandoned’ was more like it: the space was filled with busy men who had frozen in their tracks to stare up at her in horror. X placed her hands on her hips and fixed them all with her most threatening frown. “I demand to speak to your boss!”

“Right here, princess,” the Red Hood sighed from behind her. X turned around and her face lit up immediately when she saw him, burly arms folded across his chest, his rugged features probably arranged into an exasperated look beneath his helmet. She took a step closer to him and her brows crashed together again as she placed her hands on his bulky shoulders.

“You know I don’t like it when you wear your helmet, Hood,” she whined, purposefully making her voice all high-pitched. “Why don’t you wear your mask?”

Jason let out another weary sigh and wrapped an arm around her to start guiding her in the direction of his office.

“Keep going, everyone,” he assured his henchmen, “I’ll handle this.”

His goons exchanged confused glances with one another, but quickly returned to their operations as their boss led the hero away. Jason locked the door behind him once they were safely inside his office, then he focused his full attention on X. “What are you doing here?”

She leaped onto his sofa and lay back, stretching herself out so her suit clung tightly to her every curve. Jason’s eyes followed the lines of her body, admiring her lush figure, and his hands began to ache with the need to run all over her soft skin. X grinned, completely aware of the effect she was having on the tough vigilante.

“I wanted to see your handsome face, Hood!” she replied, still using that ridiculously innocent tone on him. “But since you’re wearing your helmet …”

She pursed her lips, as if disappointed by her fruitless journey, but then she propped herself up on her elbow and lowered her eyes to his torso instead. “I guess I’ll just have to admire your delicious body instead.”

Jason swallowed down the saliva that gathered in his mouth at the way she licked her lips while her eyes trailed over him. Thank God he was wearing his helmet or she’d be able to see the way the tips of his ears and the back of his neck reddened otherwise. He cleared his throat and glanced away from her, calming himself down before removing his helmet. He was still wearing his mask underneath, concealing his identity from anyone who didn’t already know him, but it was enough of a glimpse of his face to keep his girlfriend happy. X grinned and rolled over onto her stomach, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. Jason pulled his gaze away from her again and cleared his throat. “You could have just waited at home, sweetheart.”

X pushed herself to her feet and walked over to Jason. She slid onto his lap and her fingers immediately made their way into his hair. She pulled on the strands gently, tugging his head back and forcing his lips to align with hers. Her mouth watered in anticipation of feeling the rough ridges of his wide lips brushing across hers, but she forced herself to look away and get up again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to resist kissing him if she’d glanced up and seen the way his pupils dilated whenever he was looking at her mouth. And, shit, he was such a good kisser that she always found it impossible to drag herself away from him once they got caught up in a heated makeout session. X hopped up onto the edge of Jason’s desk and pulled a thumb drive out of one of her pockets.

He raised an eyebrow as she held the small drive out to him, her lips twisted into a begrudging smirk. “What’s this?”

X crossed one leg over the other as he plugged the drive into his computer, lightly trailing the tip of her boot along the inside of his muscled thigh. “How trusting, Red Hood. How do you know I didn’t just hand you a virus I could use to hack into your computer and get all your contacts?”

Jason’s gaze flickered up to her and his eyes were immediately pulled to her chest, her luscious curves on full display. He pushed aside the desire rapidly pooling in his core and fixed her with a knowing look.

“Did you want all my contacts?” He grabbed her ankle and held her leg in place so he could sneak his thumbs beneath her tights and begin rubbing small circles along her bare skin. “You know all you’d have to do is ask, princess.”

She closed her eyes as the low murmur of his voice danced along her bones. He was always so smooth and so put together that she relished every chance she got to have the upper hand over him. X bit down on her lip as Jason kept his grip on her foot, using the pain to distract herself from his featherlight touches, but finally, she opened her eyes to sneak a peek at him. His tongue darted out from between his lips as his hungry gaze travelled over her body and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down the saliva rapidly gathering in his mouth. He looked up at her and smirked when he caught her gaze trained intensely on him. X gulped at the smug look on his face and quickly pulled her foot away from him.

“I-I …” Her voice came out breathy and she mentally reprimanded herself for letting him get the upper hand. “It’s for my new case: this is all the evidence that was collected from the crime scene. I wanted you to check if I’d missed something.”

Jason spun around to his computer and opened up the drive to start clicking through the images. His eyes widened with horror when he realised who the victim probably was - and who the likely suspect was as well: Carmine Falcone. No way would he let his precious little girlfriend get mixed up with such a notorious villain. He closed the file and turned to X with a scowl. “Who gave you this case?”

Her lips parted, confused by her boyfriend’s sudden change in demeanour. “I … just got stuck with it because everyone else thought it was too boring.”

“Well, they were wrong.” Jason removed the drive from his computer and tossed it into one of his desk drawers. “You’re not taking this case, princess.”

X furrowed her brows, caught between bewilderment and amusement: Jason could be a little overprotective of her sometimes. Not that she didn’t love having someone who was so perfectly capable of taking care of her and making her feel safe! She just found that he could be a tad dramatic sometimes … “I have a name, you know, sweetheart.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at her overly saccharine tone. He stood up and placed his hands on either side of her. “You’re not taking this case, Nightingale.”

X took in the threatening frown on his face, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her lips out in a pout.

“No fair!” she complained. “Why do you always get to have all the fun, Hood?” Suddenly, her expression morphed into a devious grin and she tickled the base of his skull with her fingernails.

“We could solve this case together?” she suggested. “The two of us working in perfect synchrony …” She stretched up, bringing her lips to his ear so she murmur softly into it, her voice low and thick with lust.

“And no one would even know how good the big, bad Red Hood f*cks the city’s sweet little Nightingale to sleep in his bed every night,” she finished naughtily.

“F*ck.” Jason’s eyes rolled back in his head as all the blood rushed immediately to his core. Because who in their right mind would ever picture the rough and hardened vigilante running his hands and teeth and tongue all over the naked body of their sweet little superhero? Corrupting her in his bed every night while she mewled desperately for his c*ck? He dug his fingers into the table, restraining himself from touching her. He took a step back, forcing her hands to fall away from his shoulders, and the distance allowed him to finally regain control of his thoughts. “I’ll handle this case, princess. I’ll talk to Batman about it.”

She swung her legs back and forth, trying to decide between telling him off for ordering her around and just letting him do her work for her. But she didn’t want him to take on extra work on her account, though she supposed it would be sufficient punishment for the demeaning way he was treating her right then. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not a child, Hood,” she told him, the anger taking over. “But if you want to treat me as such, then don’t complain about the consequences that come with it.”

She stalked towards the door, making to leave, but Jason jumped out of his seat and quickly caught her wrist.

“Nightingale,” he sighed, finally realising how his authoritative tone might have come across. X stopped, but refused to turn around and face him. “I’m just … The people involved in this case are too dangerous, sweetheart.”

He lifted his hand to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him, but then he hesitated. What if she pushed him aside in disgust, unwilling to forgive his mistakes any longer? He tugged her wrist to test the waters and X collapsed back into his chest, relieving all the tension from his body. He squeezed her against him, holding her tightly against his chest, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“I can’t-” His voice cracked, but he recovered quickly. “I’m not going to let you get hurt, Nightingale.”

X sighed at the earnestness in his voice and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Okay.”

Jason patted her back gently and bent over to press another kiss to the top of her head … But then someone banged on the door.

“Boss?!” one of his goons’ panicked voice came from the other side of the door. “Are you all right?! Has she got you?! Blink twice if the answer is ‘yes’!”

“You idiot!” another man’s rough voice interrupted. “How are we gonna know if he’s blinking?!”

“Oh yeah …” the first man replied. “We’re coming in, boss!”

“No! Don’t-” Jason leaped away from his girlfriend just as his goons came barreling into the room. They zoomed straight in between the two of them and crashed into the wall at the end before landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“Shit,” Jason muttered, racing over to check on his henchmen. X followed after him, rapidly assessing the two men’s injuries: thankfully, they’d seemed to have just bruised their arms after breaking the door down and running straight into the wall - no sign of any head injuries or concussions. She straightened with a relieved smile.

“They should be fine,” she assured Jason. She turned around and sauntered to the door, swaying her hips teasingly. Then she stopped in the doorway and twisted around to look back at him, stretching her body in such a way to accentuate her curves. “Oh and my offer still stands, Mr Big Bad Red Hood.”

She enunciated the words carefully and Jason’s body heated up as her eyes roved all over him beneath her mask. She grinned at the sudden tightness in his posture and swivelled back around to resume her exit. “You know where to find me if you want to take me up on it. I’ll be waiting, sweetheart.”

Her tone was teasing - challenging - and Jason gulped as she turned back to shoot him one last wicked grin. He watched quietly as she grappled out of his warehouse, disappearing into the night, and his mind started running wild with ideas on all the positions he could possibly find her in once he returned home.

“Um, what's she talking about, boss?” one of his men asked him, his voice slightly shaky. Jason turned to find both his goons blushing at his girlfriend's lascivious tone - except that they didn't even know that she was his girlfriend. They were just wondering why the cute and pretty hero was using what was very clearly her bedroom voice on their large and threatening boss. Jason gulped as her earlier words echoed in his mind, but he forced down his desire and drew himself to his full height.

“Nothing. She … was just warning me about a case involving Falcone,” Jason told them. “Keep an eye on your families, boys: he doesn't seem to be in a good mood. And if he ever threatens any one of you, you come straight to me, got it?”

The men nodded vigorously, heeding their boss’s warning: the Red Hood never steered them wrong, so they'd follow his words to the letter. “Got it, boss.”

“Good. Let the others know.” Jason headed towards the door, but paused in the doorway, hesitating. “And go home: it's getting late. I'm calling it a day.”

Then he left without another word.

Spoiler landed on the rooftop next to Nightingale.

“Hey, your location was switched off. Where’d you go?” Her tone was unconcerned, as if she already knew exactly where Nightingale had been whilst she’d gone dark over their comms, but she waited expectantly for her response anyway.

X raised her eyebrows at her friend and teammate: she wasn’t buying Stephanie’s innocent tone. “Hood’s warehouse.”

She grappled through the air, leaping from one building to the next as they began their trek back to the batcave.

“Well, where is it?” Stephanie asked once they’d stopped for a brief break. Nightingale shot her a wry smile.

“You know he doesn’t want you guys knowing where it is.” She took off again and Spoiler quickly caught up, keeping pace with her.

“Why?” she asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not like we’re gonna … blow it up or something!”

X laughed as they landed in front of one of the many secret entrances to the batcave. She paused to let the scanner sweep over her, then strolled between the doors when they slid open.

“It’s not that, it’s just …” She turned around and walked backwards as she thought about it. “He just needs his space sometimes.”

She swivelled back around and continued walking over to the Batcomputer. “Plus, he can’t have you guys making him look soft in front of his henchmen.”

“Who are we making look soft in front of their henchmen?” Nightwing asked, striding into the main hall from another passageway. He removed his Escrima Sticks from the back of his suit and placed them back in their holder.

“Jason,” Stephanie replied, removing her mask and sinking into the empty seat beside Tim.

“Does anyone else think it’s weird that Jason has henchmen?” Tim asked, not turning away from the Batcomputer. Dick ignored Tim’s question, snorting in amusement at X’s suggestion.

“The only person capable of making Jason look soft …” He paused dramatically and turned around to face her before continuing, “is you.”

X pulled an empty chair up to Steph and hopped onto it. She spun around as she considered Dick’s statement, letting her mind wander to her sweet and caring boyfriend. He was soft though, always surprising her with cute little dates and crafting the most thoughtful handmade gifts for her. And he’d pick her up after work every day so they could have dinner together and make sure to see each other at least once a day. Her features shifted into a dreamy expression and Stephanie grinned before snapping her fingers in front of her face.

“X? You still with us, babe?”

Dick laughed from his own seat as he lifted his legs onto the console.

“Her mind’s probably still with her boyfriend in that secret warehouse of his,” he pointed out, folding his arms across his chest and huffing in irritation at the thought of Jason’s warehouse that he refused to let any of them see. Well, any of them except for his little girlfriend that he was so obviously head over heels for.

X shook her head, forcing herself back to reality, and flashed her friends a sheepish smile. “Sorry …”

But none of them minded - not when she was so head over heels for their brother herself. X’s phone buzzed suddenly and she opened up the notification to find a text from Jason. Her eyes widened at whatever she saw on her phone and she shot out of her seat, this time with a guilty smile. “Uh, I’m gonna head home now. Night, guys! See you tomorrow!”

She raced off without a word and the others exchanged knowing glances with one another. Dick dropped his hands and legs and rolled over to Stephanie. “Did you do it?”

Stephanie responded with a devious grin.

“Yup.” She turned to Tim and leaned over his shoulder. “Is it working?”

Tim pulled up a map of Gotham with a single blinking light on it moving rapidly through the city, straight towards Jason’s apartment. “Yup.”

Jason sucked in a breath as the white-hot pleasure buzzed through his brain. “F*ck.”

He closed his eyes as they rolled back in his head at the sound of his girlfriend’s adorable little mewls beneath him, then he slumped over and started trying to catch his breath. He chuckled softly at the sight of X doing the same, then he bit his lip as he ran his hand down her bare, sweat-slicked back. God, she was hot. He slid his hands along her sides, tracing the outlines of her curves, then he lay down on top of her, twisting his fingers between hers. He pressed a kiss to the base of her ear, then buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her arousal.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Jason lifted himself off of X, giving her the space to twist around and snuggle up against his chest instead. He brushed her hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek softly as he admired her glowing features. Shit, she was pretty. “But you’ve gotta stop breaking into my warehouse, babygirl.”

“Mmm, shit,” he groaned, curling his fingers around hers. X shook her head as her mind went numb at the feeling of her large boyfriend’s warm body pressing against her. Then he began trailing his lips down the side of her neck and she hummed in contentment as his satisfied groans sank into her skin and danced along her bones.

“I love you, Jay.”

X furrowed her brows, her lips instinctively twisting into a pout - she always felt like a spoiled little princess whenever he took that soft tone with her.

“Why?” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. Jason lowered his lips to her neck and slid his hand down to her ass. He moaned softly as he curled his fingers around her, squeezing her soft flesh like she was a little pillow, then he sighed and lifted his gaze back to hers.

“‘Cause you’re making me look bad, princess. My boys are gonna think that I can just fall for any pretty girl that walks into my warehouse.”

X narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “And how many ‘pretty girls’ are walking into your warehouse, Jay?”

Jason shot her an amused look: she could get a little … ‘protective’ over him sometimes, glaring down any girl who even looked at him for a second longer than she deemed appropriate. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him or anything, she just … liked staking her claim over him. His stomach buzzed with excitement at having someone who thought him amazing enough to mark their territory on.

“Just one.” He slung his leg over hers, pulling her closer against him. “And she can be so frustratingly distracting.” His gaze fell to her lips and he brought his mouth closer to hers.

“Makes it difficult to get any work done,” he mumbled before sliding his hand up the back of her neck and pulling her mouth to his.

X glided her hands all over his body as they kissed, admiring how deliciously gorgeous her boyfriend was. She wriggled against him as he teased her tongue with his, kissing and stroking her until she was breathless and dizzy with lust. Jason pulled back and laughed at the unfocused look on his girlfriend’s face.

“Come on,” he told her, carefully helping her get off the bed. “You've got work tomorrow. Let's get you ready for bed.”

“Ah! I'm so excited!” Spoiler squealed over the comms unit. “How should we enter? Should we jump in through a window? Or fly through the roof? Oh! Maybe we should just knock on the door?! They'll never be expecting that!”

Nightingale had gone dark a while back, but the tracker Stephanie had snuck into her suit had continued blinking steadily on the map Tim had gotten Dick to watch closely after his patrol had started. The three of them raced towards the docks now, eager to catch a glimpse of Jason's super secret, probably super cool warehouse that he'd kept hidden from them for so long. Finally, they landed on the rooftop of what appeared to be an empty warehouse, taking a moment to catch their breaths.

“There's a skylight,” Dick pointed out, gesturing to the removable glass panel that sat a few feet away from them.

“Busting through the roof it is.” Stephanie grinned and followed Dick over to the skylight. He pried it open easily and soon, the three of them were standing in the middle of a darkened building, all of them on guard for any wary guards. And then, “Eugh! Sick! It smells like dead fish!”

“I thought it smelled like three dead rats,” a low male voice chuckled from the edge of the room. Stephanie furrowed her brows at the response.

“Uh, no, that's definitely fish.” Then she realised who had spoken. She, Tim and Dick whirled around in horror, following the sound of the voice, and their panic increased tenfold when they saw the Red Hood walking towards them, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Hood!” Stephanie began, stumbling over her words as she tried to come up with a response. “W-We … We were just …”

“We got a distress call!” Tim improvised quickly.

“And we just wanted to make sure whoever it was was okay!” Dick finished, joining into the lie. The three of them nodded eagerly, suspiciously wide smiles stretched across each of their faces. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Did you think I didn't vet anyone who comes into my warehouse?” he asked, arms folded across his chest. “Especially someone who is almost always in close contact with the biggest snakes this side of the world?”

“In my defence,” Nightingale supplied, dropping down from the ceiling and landing behind them, “I thought they were my friends! But I guess you can only be betrayed by those you trust.”

She gave an exaggerated sniff and moved to stand beside Jason, curling her arms around his bicep and leaning against him.

“Technically, we weren't betraying you,” Tim argued, his tone matter-of-fact. “We were betraying the Red Hood. Although it's not like we have any alliances with him anyway.”

“What? You need me to sign a contract or something?” Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes at the suggestion.

“I trust you, Hood,” Nightingale told him, fluttering her eyelashes up at him sweetly. “I know you'd never betray me.”

Her gaze turned dangerous then, her smile sharpening into one laced with threats as she waited for conformation that he'd never betray her. Jason grinned and lowered his head to hers.

“Of course, princess,” he murmured, his voice low enough so the others wouldn't hear him. X giggled softly and Jason’s smile widened. Then he straightened and rearranged his features into a threatening expression. “If any of you ever try to pull a stunt like this again, you'll be cleaning fish guts out of your suits for a month.”

Tim, Steph and Dick cringed at the very thought, the bile rising to their throat as they took in another whiff of the fishy air.

“Ugh! Fine! You win!” Tim surrendered on behalf of all of them. “We won’t try to find your stupid warehouse again.”

Jason smirked in victory and waited until the three of them had left the area. “I told you it’d take them less than ten minutes after you went dark to come after you.”

X slid her arms around his neck as Jason’s arms came around her waist. “Fine. You win. I won’t disturb you at your warehouse anymore. Well, for the next month, at least.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but continued to smile. “You know they’re still going to try again, right?”

X shrugged, unbothered. “Then I guess we’ll just have to get the fish ready.”

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wands-natsthing · 13 days ago

Text

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

HEYYYY HIII HELLOOOO long time I KNOW IM SORRY LSKDKD AND I KNOW I SAID THE WEEKEND BUT I GOT SICK

buttt just to give a lil info, since it has been so long since I updated I put the last bit of chapter 2 at the beginning of this just as a refresher I guess!! And more overall story info (R=23) (W=30) (N=34)

I also wrote kinda like a Wanda’s POV of what happened in the janitors closet so let me know if you want that!!

Feedback is more than welcome!! I love reading all your comments they make me feel like my writing isn’t shit 🤓 and they make me smile :)) I also tried to make this as open as possible this is for everybody!! (I hope I worded that right) I mean as in there rlly no descriptions of r

Warnings: I really don’t think there are any besides maybe it starts to seem a little homewreckery BUT ITS NOT I PROMISE!!

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You guys come out the closet and have lunch idk

"Who's the woman standing outside the door with you?" you asked.

You can tell Wanda hadn't been expecting your question by the way her eyes widened.

"Oh um, that's Natasha, After you graduated I started teaching a co-taught English class and well she's the co-teacher." She paused before confirming the suspicion you had earlier.

"She's also my wife…"

Your heart dropped.

“Your- your wife…You got married? You ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Yeah, I did um just a few years ago…”

“Oh- that's uh, that's cool. Um, congratulations.”

Wanda’s smile faltered slightly as she sensed the mix of emotions swirling inside you. The joy in her eyes seemed to dim ever so slightly, replaced by a hint of concern.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said quietly, her voice softening. "Maybe we could talk more about everything over Lunch?"

Your eyes snapped up at that. The thought of having lunch with her again all these years later was just too enticing to pass up, no matter how many messing feelings it brought again.

"Lunch? Are you- are you sure?" You asked with a hopeful smile on your face.

"Yes, I'm more than sure. I am positive." She reassured you with a gentle touch of her hand running up and down your forearm.

"Okay, then yes I would love to."

"great! What about this weekend at 1:00 at the cafe we saw each other last week? (a/n: Its Wednesday)

"That's perfect!"

"Okay good then it's a date." She said scrunching her nose up in a way that always made your heart melt.

Date.

"I am so sorry, but I better get back, can't leave Natasha by herself for too long with all those parents and kids out there, But I can't wait for our lunch date!"

Date. There goes that word again.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry for keeping you for so long,” you replied, trying to shake off the rush of emotions swirling in your mind.

Wanda smiled warmly, as if she could sense the turmoil within you. “No need to apologize. It’s nice to catch up, I've missed you."

You both stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. The bustling sounds from the school faded slightly as you locked eyes.

“Alright, I better get going,” she said after a pause, and you could hear the softer undertones of sadness in her voice. “But I’ll see you this weekend, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it,” you replied, offering her a genuine smile.

Wanda gave you one last look, her expression revealing a mix of excitement and a hint of uncertainty before she opened the door of the janitor's closet.

You took a deep breath, calming your racing heartbeat. You had so many thoughts swirling through your head but at the same time, you felt as if you couldn't think.

As you finally turned to head out back to your car, you felt a strange sense of hope take root inside you.

You couldn’t help but replay the moment in your mind, the surprise of learning she was married mixed with the thrill of the upcoming lunch. It was complicated, but one thing was clear: you wanted to explore this. No matter how much it might hurt in the end.

The rest of the week felt like an eternity. You replayed snippets of conversations you had shared over the years, moments of laughter, and even the unspoken feelings that had lingered in the air. Each thought made the anticipation for the weekend grow stronger.

Finally, Saturday arrived. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully selecting your outfit for lunch. The end of summer's warmth lingered in the air, but a hint of fall was beginning to whisper in the breeze. You chose a lightweight mustard-yellow sweater, perfect for the transition between seasons. Its soft knit hugged your figure comfortably.

For pants, you chose a pair of high-waisted, olive-green corduroy pants that offered both warmth and style. The slightly flared legs provided a retro vibe, making them an ideal choice for early autumn. On your feet, you wore your black Converse. Always a staple in your outfits.You topped everything off with a silver chain that went slightly past your collarbone and small gold hoops that reflected off the light.

Never understood the big deal about mixing silver and gold.

And a light spritz of your favorite fall-inspired perfume, with notes of vanilla and sandalwood, completed the look, a warm scent perfect for the season.

As the clock ticked closer to 1:00, doubts and anxiety started creeping in.

What if she doesn't show?

Is my outfit bad?

Does my breath smell? You make sure to brush your teeth one more time before leaving.

When you arrived at the cafe, a wave of shyness washed over you. You spotted Wanda almost immediately. She was sitting at a cozy table, her reddish auburn hair catching the sunlight, and you wondered how someone could look both familiar and new after all this time.

You exchanged hesitant glances. The soft murmur of conversations around you felt louder than usual, amplifying the butterflies in your stomach.

As you approached, her face lit up, the warmth of her smile easing your nerves.

“You made it!” she exclaimed, standing up to greet you with an embrace that felt both comfortable and electrifying.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, taking a seat across from her.

For a moment, the air was thick with unspoken words. Both of you are unsure what to say.

Fortunately, as if sensing the tension in the air, a waitress approached to take your order.

"I'll have a hot caramel latte and a turkey and cheese sandwich, please," Wanda said with a soft smile. You returned her smile, appreciating the familiarity of her order.

Both Wanda and the waitress turned to you, waiting to see what you'd chosen.

"I'll have the same, please. Thank you."

*****************************

You sipped your coffee, the warmth seeping into your hands, trying to ground yourself. Slowly but surely the conversation began to flow just like how it had all those years ago.

It was as if nothing had changed.

As if neither had gone through drastic changes.

Yet, even as the conversation deepened, the thought of her marriage lingered at the back of your mind and the fact that they worked together. Soon within a day, they both would be your coworkers.

Curiosity nudged at you, and you found yourself leaning in.

“What’s it like? Teaching together, I mean? That must be… interesting.”

Just like in the janitor's closet, she was surprised by your sudden question.

Though she laughed softly, easing the tension. “It is, we balance each other out. She’s all about structure, while I tend to go with the flow. It makes for some creative lesson plans."

Though you were more so wondering if they shared any lunches like the two of you did;

You'll take it.

Gathering up as much composure as possible you try to sound as "mature" as you possibly can. “Sounds like a great dynamic,” you replied, picturing the two of them in a classroom full of students, bouncing ideas off each other.

"Yeah it is, we make a great team." Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up.

"You know, I would love for the two of you to formally meet."

Your heart raced and your mind went blank.

What the fuck?

"Wait...I'm sorry, what?"

Wanda repeated herself slowly, not sure how to take your response.

“Oh, um, really? Your wife?” You stammered, shocked from the sudden/not so sudden twist in conversation. "I mean are you- are you sure that is a good idea? You know, me being me?"

Wanda smiled at you comfortingly. "Of course, it's a good idea, I mean besides you were gonna meet her soon anyway with school starting Monday-"

She stops mid-sentence playing with the necklace adorning her neck, a telltale sign

She's nervous.

"Natasha also already knows exactly who you are to me."

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

𝐨𝐨𝐩 🤓

𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯!!

@nebthetautora @esposadejoyhuerta @w4ndsversew0nder

@skz-xii

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

Ik you're probably busy rn and you don't have to write this ir you don't wanna-

So remus with. Sensitive reader? Like i, personally, get teary any time someone yells at me or is angry ot condescending and i feel like even though Remus is th sweetest person ever when it comes to scolding, being reprimanded by my favourite person would so make me cry.

And we all know that Remus can get abit hot headed around the full moon so maybe smth along hurt/comfort w that ❤️

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: weed, mention of vomit (no description of any kind, just a brief reference)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 755 words

You steal the blunt from between Remus’ lips, holding out your bag of crisps as a trade.

He accepts, side-eyeing you in a way you choose to interpret as playful. Although you know the days leading up to the full moon are hell for Remus, neither of you mind this part so much. You’d prepared last weekend, stocking your shared flat with lavish quantities of chocolate and weed which you allow yourself to sample as payment for your efforts and general good-girlfriend standing. You think you’ve done a decent job; your boyfriend is lax on the couch next to you, the space between his brows wonderfully smooth and free of the wrinkles that accrue there when he’s having one of his migraines.

“Alright, you’re done after that,” he says as you inhale.

“What?” You let your mouth drop open in faux indignation, a giggle building in your chest. “No fair.”

“Mhm.” He crunches noisily on a crisp, mindless of your pouting. “You’ve had enough, dove.”

“Fine."

He leans forward for the blunt and you hold it for him as wraps his lips around it, exhaling the smoke with an insouciant expertise. He reaches forward to take it from between your fingers, but you move quickly, leaning away from his reach to take a swift hit. You imagine the smoke curling and winding in your lungs as you suck in a great breath. You blow it out the corner of your mouth, your lips twisting into a grin.

Remus isn’t smiling.

“Are you serious?”

His tone is incredulous, and your giggly high fades as you realize he’s not joking.

“I just said you’ve had enough,” he fumes, snatching the blunt from you and squashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Are you trying to green out? Because I’m not in the mood to clean up your vomit.”

Your mouth has gone dry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Remus huffs, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your face burns. He’s exhausted with you.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and though his tone has cooled slightly, the exasperation is almost worse.

“I don’t know,” you say. Your voice comes out squeaky and wrong. “I’m really sorry.”

He looks over at you, some of the storminess clearing from his expression.

“I thought we were playing, I—I wasn’t trying to—“ You take a shuddering breath, trying to keep the wetness in your eyes from escaping. “I won’t throw up, I promise.”

“Hey.” He sounds almost confused, but it morphs quickly into alarm when you blink and a tear skids down your face. “Hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” You push your fingertips into your eyes as if you can forcibly dam the flow. Your skin is hot to the touch. “I’m not trying to.”

“Dove, come on.” Remus’ hands encircle your wrists. He pulls them towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

“No, you’re right.” Your voice quavers. “I wasn’t taking you seriously.”

“I didn’t need to be stern with you,” he says, tone firm but soft as he raises your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “It was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond but resolute on stopping your tears.

Remus frowns. He sets your hands down carefully, using his thumbs to soothe over the hot tracks on your cheeks.

“Sirius always says I get bitchy this time of the month,” he murmurs. A little laugh startles out of you, and he grins. You get the sense that was his aim. “Thank you for dealing with me when I get like this.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I know you don’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’ll try to keep a better leash on my temper.”

“I always want to deal with you,” you laugh, following it with a sniffle. “I think I need to keep a better leash on my delicate sensibilities.”

“I love your sensibilities,” Remus argues. He mushes your face affectionately between his hands. “I’m sorry for scolding you, sweetheart. Do you feel sick?”

You take hasty stock of yourself. You’ve definitely reached the point just past too much, but you’ll be okay. “Nope,” you report back happily. “But I do feel like I’d like some snacks, please.”

Remus passes you the bag of crisps, then some chocolates, then a tin of biscuits. And you feast on kisses for the rest of the night.

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saffusthings · 5 months ago

Text

You're Everything I Need (and More)

oscar piastri x personal assistant!reader

summary: the one where they deal with the aftermath word count: 10.6k (…sorry?) warnings: descriptions and talks of abuse, trauma, disassociation, other abuse aftermath, please don't read if any of this stuff is not the vibe, some gore, being threatened by a weapon, whump, poorly edited writing a/n: comments/feedback would be much appreciated! and let me if like it, bc i have some ideas for a mini-series

Part 1

Oscar thinks he must be imagining the way her breathing begins to quicken and she starts to shift, tossing and turning in on the bed. He freezes instantly when he feels her start to squirm beside him- not knowing what to do, whether to move or to pull her closer.

But then she lets out a small noise that sounds eerily like a whimper, and his entire body jolts with panic. Her eyebrows are pinched together - her face is a picture of distress, her body still squirming and shifting restlessly.

He’s half-concerned she’s in pain, half-thinking she’s having a nightmare, and he’s suddenly desperate to figure out which one it is so he can stop it.

“Hey,” he calls, trying to make his voice sharp and loud enough to wake her up but gentle enough not to scare her. “Wake up. Wake up, it's just a dream-“

She mutters in her sleep, her breathing picking up. “Please don’t- Stop, stop-”

“Wake up,” he says again, his heart racing, begging her to wake up so she can stop reliving it. “Wake up - you’re dreaming, it’s not real, c’mon-“

Her eyes fly open, wild and frenzied. Her breaths come in short, quick bursts as she relies on her instincts and uses them to put as much distance between her and the voice emanating from the dark abyss. She rapidly shuffles away from him, ignoring the pain that screams at her from various parts of her body as she does everything to get away from her parents’ wrath.

They’re going to kill her.

She flails away from the figure in the dark, moving her limbs rapidly with only survival at the forefront of her mind. Scrambling to get up, she ends up backed up against the wall, wielding the switchblade she always keeps around defensively.

For a split second, Oscar’s completely frozen.

“Hey,” he tries in the calmest tone he can muster, raising a tentative, open palms slowly. “Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s me, you’re safe, you’re okay-“

“Stop it!” she shouts defensively, pleading. Her chest heaves with each breath. “Jus- Just stop, don’t do this, don’t touch me-“

Oscar freezes again, his face falling in worry. He keeps his hands up, his heart racing as he scans over her. She’s terrified, he thinks, taking in her shaking figure, her hands clutching a knife, her eyes locked onto him like he was a threat.

“No- no, I won’t touch you,” he assures quickly. “I won’t touch you, I’m not gonna touch you, I promise. Just- just breathe, alright?”

Her eyes look around frantically, trying to make sense of things. He’s starting to panic now - she’s still completely lost in her nightmare, still terrified, and every time she looks at him, he’s sure he can see a flicker of fear in her eyes.

Fear of him.

“I’m not gonna touch you,” he says again, his voice still as gentle as he can get it. “Look at me. Just look. It’s me, I’m here, I’m- I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear on my life-“

“Listen to my voice,” he coaxes again, his tone even. “Just listen to me. Concentrate on it. Listen to me, and look at me, and tell me who I am.”

He knows he has to get her to recognize him. He knows it’s the fastest way to get her grounded, to get her back to reality.

“I…” her brows furrow, her heart beating wildly. “I- W…Oscar?W”

“Okay, that’s good,” he murmurs, taking another step closer to her. “That’s good, you’re doing good, listen to me, alright darling? You’re doing good.”

He’s still afraid that she’s going to flinch away from him - that at any second, she’ll realize that she’s trapped against the wall, and start squirming to get away from him again.

“Look at me,” he demands again, more forcefully this time, desperate to get her to open her eyes, to look at him. “Look at me, darling, please.”

She wrings her body from his touch like it burned. “Don’t touch me-“

Immediately, her knife hand is ready, pointing the small weapon.

“I’m not going to,” he responds instantly, his hands flying up in a gesture of surrender. He was not expecting that. He’d only meant to hold her face - keep her gaze on his - but she’d flinched away and was now pointing a knife at his goddamn chest.

And suddenly, he’s terrified.

Not for himself - he’s never scared of her, and he knows rationally that she won’t stab him. He’s terrified that she’s gone back to that state of complete panic, and that if he tries to move, she’ll hurt herself.

He keeps his voice soft and quiet, slowly moving his hand towards the one holding the knife.

“Give me the knife, yeah?” He begins, watching her eyes closely for an indication of her reaction. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, no, no-“ she mumbles, clenching her eyes shut momentarily. “It’s- It’s mine.”

Her arm instinctively moves closer to her, causing her to bend her elbow and weaken her stance. She doesn’t seem to notice, with the perceived threat to the only defense she has.

Tears stream down her face in frustration. She’s so scared, her heart is thudding and she’s only scaring herself more. God, and Oscar is being so patient and collected about this but she can’t seem to fucking calm down-

It breaks his goddamn heart to see her like this. But he has to act quickly, he knows it’s the only way this is going to work. There’s no way she’ll give him the knife - she thinks it’s the only protection against him, against whatever she’s facing.

Which means he has to overpower her to get her to release the weapon.

God- he hates it.

He never ever wants to use any kind of force on her. She’s fragile enough as it is without having to use force on her, but she’s not going to put that knife down on her own. She’s terrified and in panic mode, and the only way to get her grounded is to get her to let the damn weapon go.

He’s going to hate himself for this later, even more than he already does, but he has to.

His hands slowly go up in the air again, pretending to surrender. “Okay, okay,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. “Okay, I won’t take it. Is that better?”

Face wet with tears, she nods weakly. Her mind is a whirlwind - a messy storm of relief that he won’t take her knife away, and confusion as to why she feels horrible about it.

He feels a small sense of relief at her nod, but she still doesn’t lower the weapon in her hand, still pointing it at him warily. With his hands still held carefully in the air, he begins to move a lot slower and with careful, methodical steps towards her.

She’s watching him like a hawk, still pointing the knife at him, but her body seems to have lost some of its tension.

He can see her trembling, her eyes glistening with tears, and he mentally curses himself for the hundredth time for not being able to protect her from the hell that she calls home. He slowly advances, his steps measured and deliberate. He’s close enough to her now, close enough to see the tears staining her face.

With him so close now, Y/N is able to see him better in the darkness of the room. His hair is still mussed up from sleep, his eyes… still familiar and inviting.

Oscar has always had the kind of face that makes you feel like you could talk to him about anything, go to him any time and still feel comfortable. He has a kind face, and certainly a personality to match.

It’s this familiarity and coolness that she recognizes in his eyes now.

The hand holding the switchblade drops marginally in the air, her stance less taut.

A breath escapes him when he sees her hand start to drop, her stance loosening.

It’s working- it’s working. He’s doing something right, thank god.

He takes one more slow step towards her, close enough now to reach out and touch her.

“Oscar,” she breathes shakily in recognition. His familiar silhouette feels like hope in light of the violent thumping in her chest, the panic that’s been coursing through her veins.

She may be afraid - but Oscar’s here.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, an alarm bell is going off at the fact that Oscar is so close - why is he so close?

But it’s difficult for her to focus on that when there’s a knife in her hand and there's people that will make sure that she suffers. So the only thing she seems to register at the moment beside her panicked frenzy is that Oscar is here.

He watches her eyes flit between his face and the knife in her hand, her mind clearly struggling with the confusion of it all. He hates having to do this, really and truly hates that he has to be yet another person in her life forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to.

But it doesn’t change the fact that it has to be done.

His heart breaks at her words, but he reaches out and grips her wrist, forcing her hand to release the knife before she hurts herself or him.

“Osc-” she yelps in surprise, caught off guard. But before she can finish the word, his hand clamps firmly around her hand holding the switchblade. Fingers wrap themselves around her wrist, forming a circle and applying more and more pressure until the muscles there have no choice but to release the grip she has on the knife.

In an instant, Oscar scoops the fallen knife on the sheets beside them and pockets it for the time being.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice rough. “Just look at me.”

He’s ready to pin her the wall and hold her there until she calms down so she won’t flail or fight back or-

Instead, he’s completely caught off guard. It’s like a switch flips the second the knife drops out of her hands.

All the fear that had been hammering against her chest takes the form of a choked out sob. Warm tears roll down her face as every muscle in her body gives out at once - whether in fear or relief or exhaustion, it isn’t clear. Maybe all of the above.

Completely spent and still trembling with sobs, she collapses straight into his arms.

As soon as she collapses, his arms go around her, pulling her tighter against him in a firm and protective embrace. He holds her against him, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down her back, making soft shushing noises to try and soothe her.

“You’re okay,” he mutters, his lips right beside her ear. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

She babbles words about how scared she was and how sorry she is over and over again, most of it practically incoherent.

Her body falls against his as she allows herself to be enveloped in the warm embrace of Oscar’s strong arms.

All he can do is hold her tight, listening to her mumbles and trying to decipher which of them are apologies and which ones are something else. He can feel the dampness of her tears against the skin of his neck and the warmth of her body against his bare chest, and he curses himself internally once again for not being able to protect her sooner.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says quietly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her. “You don’t- you don’t have anything to apologize for, okay? None of this is your fault, absolutely none.”

“I’m so sorry, I almost hurt you, M’so sorry, I was just scared,” she mumbles into his chest. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong me, I’m so sorry–”

“Shhh,” he mutters, shaking his head against her hair, his hand still rubbing up and down her back.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m not hurt. I’m fine, I’m right here.”

Even though her eyes are red-rimmed and tearstained and the bruise on her collarbone is almost taunting him, she’s still the most beautiful girl in the world.

He takes a deep breath before asking a question. “Is this something that’s happened before?”

She takes a deep breath before answering. “Well I’ve had nightmares sometimes, I guess,” she explains. They happen often, actually.

“But this one was…” she struggles to find the right word, so she settles for, “…different.”

His hands reach out, tracing a soothing pattern against the small of her back. “Can you explain it? The nightmare?”

“I…” her voice shakes.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, holding her tighter against him. “Don’t force it if you’re not ready, okay? I’m pressuring you to answer, I just-“

He stops himself, taking a deep breath. “I’m just trying to understand what happened. That’s all.”

She nods in understanding. Her fingers find him, playing with them to have something to do with her hands as she tries to keep her voice level.

“It’s a memory, really…” she trails off. “Of tonight. When they…”

He’s not sure whether he wants her to keep going. He can already tell whatever she’s about to say isn’t going to be something easy to hear.

But she’s talking now, and he isn’t about to stop that, not when she needs to actually talk through this kind of stuff. She’s been keeping this bottled up for god knows how long, and now is the time to get the words out.

“When they were… more angry than usual,” she says, wording it as delicately as she can. “They were unhappy with how much I’d been away for work, too busy to be home for them.”

Her voice shakes just a bit when she tells him, “When they didn’t kill me, I guess they tried to beat it out of me.

He can’t help it this time - his grip tightens around her at her words, the muscles in his jaw clenching when he hears them.

“Y/N,” he says gently, still rubbing her back slowly, still trying to coax out the words, “when you say angry, what do you mean by that? How often do they…?”

He knows the answer already.

She’s quiet for a long while, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly against her cheeks as she tries to keep a new set of tears from falling. Then she starts to talk again, her words a soft mumble against his skin.

“More often than just tonight,” she confesses. It’s the best answer she can really give him.

He knew it.

He takes a deep breath, doing everything he can to maintain a neutral expression on his face. The last thing she needs right now is him doing something to send her spiraling again. So instead he just holds her tight, listening to her speak and running a hand soothingly through her hair.

He has to fight to keep his voice steady when he asks the next question. “Those other times… was tonight the worst so far?”

“Yeah.”

His grip on her tightens just a fraction, his heart clenching at the one-word answer.

God, he just wants to protect her. He wants to wrap her up in his arms and never let go - shield her from anyone and everyone trying to hurt her ever again because nobody deserves any of it. And more than that, he hates the fact that there isn’t anything he can do.

“I’m sorry, Oscar,” she hiccups. “I- Fuck… l had a fucking knife pointed at you, god-“

“Don’t be sorry,” he says forcefully. “You were scared, it was a- a defense reaction. Don’t apologize for something like that.”

His fingers reach up, gently tilting her chin up towards him.

“And don’t worry about me. I’m fine, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

She curls in closer against his chest, almost as if eliminating the space between means both of them would fuse into one with sheer force of will. A weak hand comes up, sleeve pulled up and over her knuckles, to gently hold the side of his face, tilting it toward her.

His eyes flutter closed at the gesture, and he can’t help but lean into the touch. She’s touching him, in the softest, gentlest way possible, but she’s touching his face and somehow it feels like home.

His own hand reaches up to grip her wrist, and he gently presses a kiss against her palm.

“I could never bring myself to hurt you,” she whispers, but the look in her eyes suggests she’s not even aware that she spoke that thought aloud.

“I’d never want to hurt you. You know that, right? I’d never forgive myself if I did.”

The raw sincerity in her voice actually makes his heart ache a little, and he has to take a deep breath so his voice doesn’t break. He leans his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed.

“I know,” he reassures her. “I never thought for a second that you’d hurt me. I know that you’d never hurt me, okay?”

“Do you really believe that?”

He scoffs a little at the question, shaking his head.

“Of course I do,” he affirms. “One-thousand percent. I trust you more than anyone, I promise you. You’re not going to hurt me.”

“You don’t think I’m some kind of… like, monster?” she asks, dubious.

His expression falls, his jaw clenching again.

“No, no, never,” he murmurs. “Of course I don’t think you’re a monster. You’re the farthest from a monster.”

His thumb gently traces a soothing pattern against the outside of her thigh. “Please tell me you don’t believe that.”

She shrugs. “I’m messed up - unstable. I could have really hurt you tonight.”

“You’re not messed up, you’re not unstable, and you can’t use a traumatic experience, that you had absolutely no control over, as any gauge of what you ‘could’ have done to me,” he argues, his voice firm.

“You didn’t hurt me, you wouldn’t have hurt me,” he tells her with complete conviction. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.” The words slip out of her mouth before she can even think about it.

He lets out a breath when he hears her answer, his eyes opening and taking a long, quiet minute just to look at her - taking in the bruise on her collarbone and her split lip, along with the cuts and scratches against her arm.

He gently brushes a hand over the bruise on her collarbone, his touch feather-like and soft.

“Jesus,” he exhales. “They really did a number on you.”

His finger reaches up to gently brush over her split lip.

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she simply shrugs, content with tracing mindless patterns against his sternum and across his chest.

He falls quiet after that, and for a long while - the only sounds filling the room being their breathing, and distant whir of the ceiling fan. Then he speaks, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. “Let me take care of you, please.”

“Hmm?”

His hands reach out to gently cup the sides of her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheekbones like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He tilts her chin up, gently forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You’ve had to take care of yourself for god knows how long, and I get it if you think you’re used to doing everything on your own… but you don’t…” he swallows, his eyes searching her face. “You don’t have to do it alone, okay? Let me take care of you, just a little.”

She just looks at him.

She looks at the genuine earnestness in his eyes, the bags under his eyes from not getting enough sleep tonight. She feels his heart thudding in his chest where her head is leaning against it. She breathes and is immediately met with the scent of him. His eyes are dark brown - they’re warm like honey and have flecks of caramel in them that remind her of the way kindness feels.

She wants to believe him.

He watches her look at him, the expression on her face an unreadable mixture of emotions - he can see a hint of fear and a hint of guilt and a hint of confusion and a hint of hope, all swirling around in her gaze.

She’s just too damn scared to do it. She settles for murmuring, “You already do, Oscar. More than you know.”

He can’t resist the soft smile that immediately emerges at her words.

He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t tell her how many times he’s seen her favorite tea or candy or snack at a gas station and had a small internal debate over grabbing it, and how many times his hand subconsciously ends up reaching for it anyway.

He doesn’t tell her how many times his brain instantly goes to her when he’s working on something that’s giving him a difficult time to solve because he knows she’ll see something he missed.

He doesn’t tell her that he looks forward to the times she randomly texts him an image of a bird or a duck or some other critter with a “hey look at this” caption because it always makes him smile.

He doesn’t tell her how much he enjoys taking care of her, how much he’s glad to be able to do it.

All he does is brush a strand of hair away from her face and murmur a soft yeah in agreement.

She hums softly. “Think we can still catch some sleep tonight?”

He hums, considering the question for a moment. His eyes glance at the clock on the dresser - 4:37am.

He honestly doubts that he could fall back asleep so quickly after everything that’s happened tonight, and he’d be surprised if she could too. If they’re going to be kept awake anyway, he has other ideas about what they could do that’s more entertaining than staring at the ceiling.

“Osc? Y’there?” she mumbles.

He immediately snaps back into the moment at the sound of her voice.

“Y-yeah, I’m here,” he assures her, a hint of guilt present because he didn’t respond right away. “I’m here, I’m here,” he repeats, his arms instinctively pulling her flush against his body.

“Sleep?” she prompts softly, reminding him of her question she was waiting for him to respond to. He hums in agreement - not because he thinks they actually WilloW, but he’s willing to give it a try, at least.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his hand coming up to brush her hair back. “Yeah, let’s sleep.”

“Could…”

He’s just about to close his eyes when he hears her speak, his eyes snapping open again. He turns his head to look down at her, waiting for her to continue what she was going to say.

“Could I lay my head on your chest?” she asks, except the words are mumbled so fast that they’re barely understandable.

He swallows hard before responding, his heart rate increasing when she makes the request.

He nods quickly.

“Yeah-” he affirms. “Yeah, of course-”

He’s in the middle of repositioning himself - so he’s laying on his back - when he realizes that she’s not moving. He pauses, looking down at her still curled against his side, and silently gestures for her to move.

When she still doesn’t move, he gently pulls her up - coaxing her body to move across his and come settle against his chest.

She hums contentedly once they’re settled in - not unlike the manner in which a cat purrs upon finding a comfortable patch of sunlight to curl up in. He wants to laugh at the comparison because it’s both accurate and hilarious.

He doesn’t, though - he just smiles and buries his nose into her hair as she gets comfortable, inhaling the scent of her and taking in the feel of her warmth against his chest.

“G’night, Osc,” she manages to mumble, before the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls her into finally falling asleep.

It takes him a few minutes after she falls asleep to actually relax.

Oscar finds he can’t stop thinking - about the injuries on her body, about her parents, about the past few hours. He’s too wired to actually sleep, but he also finds that he’s not in a hurry to fall asleep, either. He’s much more invested in the feeling of her head against his chest, of her body in his arms, of her warmth against him.

Sleep isn’t something that comes easily to him when he’s already overstimulated and anxious. In fact, it’s something he has to work at - even when he’s not feeling anxious - by doing a breathing technique or counting backwards to make his brain stop so he can sleep. But he finds that right now, with her body wrapped around him so perfectly - he feels his eyes drifting closed against his will, and his muscles relaxing like he’d just gotten out of a hot tub.

He gives in to the feeling, and slowly slips into a peaceful sleep.

When he finally starts to stir awake the next morning, he’s met with the sunlight peeking in from around the curtains, and a lack of a body against his chest.

He blinks and turns his head to look for the girl, only to find the bed empty and his heart rate immediately picking up in panic. He shoots up - ignoring the brief dizzy spell he gets from moving too quickly - before throwing the covers off of him and rushing toward the bathroom - desperate to confirm for himself that she’s still here.

Instead, he's caught off guard by the smell of coffee brewing. Huh?

The sound of the coffee machine stops his panic momentarily, causing his movements to halt as he listens to the steady stream of liquid rushing into the pot.

He’s silent for a few seconds before he starts moving again, his legs carrying him out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen.

He stops in the entryway, leaning against the doorframe when he finally lays eyes on her. She’s standing in the kitchen in front of the coffee machine, her body still clad in that damn hoodie.

He can’t help the wave of relief that washes over him when he sees her and realizes that she’s fine - she’s here, and she’s okay, and she didn’t leave.

"Good morning," she greets softly once she notices he's there.

He can’t help the small smile that immediately appears on his face. He knows it’s a stupid thing to get happy over - it’s just a regular greeting after all - but he hasn’t heard her voice in a few hours and he’s honestly missed it.

“Morning,” he greets, his eyes drifting over the counter - which is a scene of organized chaos - trying to see what exactly she’s doing.

"I, um, made coffee," she says, gesturing to the general area of the counter. She's made herself iced coffee using the ice from the fridge, and she's prepared a traveler's cup for him as well - exactly the way he likes. Two years of being the one to pick up his coffee order every time means she has it memorized, probably better than her own.

The idea that she knew exactly how he takes his coffee - down to how much cream and sugar he prefers - makes something stir in his chest, an almost giddy feeling that makes it feel like something erratic is happening to him.

He pushes the feeling down, though, and his eyes instead focus on the counter - taking in the traveler cup in front of him.

“You didn’t have to,” he mutters, pushing himself off the doorway and stepping further into the kitchen.

"Figured I gave you enough trouble last night," she mumbles, embarrassed. "S'the least I could do."

He hates when she does that - turns a situation that’s not even remotely her fault and turns it into something that she feels guilty for.

“You did no such thing,” he says quietly, his voice firm but his eyes gentle, making sure she knows that he genuinely means his words. She chuckles at his answer, before cleaning up the setup she’d used to make the coffees.

“Well, I’m gonna go ahead and figure out what the hell I can wear to work today,” she smiles at him, but it’s tinged with sadness.

“Because we have… “ she glances at his wall clock. “About an hour before we’re both supposed to be at MTC.”

He opens his mouth to say something - anything - but he’s at a complete loss for what to say.

Eventually, he just settles for a quiet, “Right.”

“You’re thinking so hard I can practically hear the gears turning,” she deadpans before taking a sip of her iced coffee. Her words cause the corner of his mouth to lift up at the familiarity - the sarcastic sass that’s been such a staple of their relationship for the past two years.

“Stop being a smartass,” he counters, trying to go for his usual playful banter but ending up at fond instead.

“Only when you stop being a dumbass,” she quips.

This time, she does make him chuckle - a gentle, low sound that’s filled with fondness. His heart settles when she starts acting like normal again - if her normal self isn’t completely present, her teasing will have to suffice.

Once he’s finished taking another sip of his coffee, he finally starts to say what he’s been thinking since she sat down, “You know we’ve gotta talk about last night, right?”

She stills.

“What do you mean?”

He’d been trying to ignore it - and she was acting like her normal sassy self now - but it needs to be addressed. He reaches out and places a careful hand against her arm - his fingertips barely grazing her covered wrist before he stops himself and pulls his hand back.

“Your parents. That needs to be discussed. They need to be reported to the police - you understand that, right?”

“Oscar,” she says, with a tone so cold and final that he’s having a hard time fathoming that it was even coming from her. “Don’t.”

His eyes widen, his mouth opening in disbelief. She can’t possibly be suggesting what he thinks she’s suggesting. He’d thought it was just some kind of weird denial she was living in - not that she was actually going to let her parents get away with hurting her like this.

He can’t help the anger that’s boiling to the surface, his voice raised as he speaks, his hands clenched into fists. "What? You’re seriously actually suggesting that you don’t want to press charges!? Are you crazy?”

She shoots him a look so sharp that he immediately feels guilty for using the word. He stops himself, his face softening when he realizes just how badly he’s stepped out of line.

He’s being insensitive - not to her but to the situation - and he needs to remember that. His eyes immediately soften, his stance opening as if to let her in.

His words come out quiet, but tinged with desperation nonetheless.

“I can’t just let them do that, okay? You can’t expect me to stand by and watch that happen to you and do nothing about it!”

“You can’t.”

He takes a breath, trying to control the growing frustration he feels. He grits his teeth, letting out a slow breath before trying again. In a calm tone, he says, “I won't, if that's what you want. But can I at least ask you why you don't want to do anything about it?”

Her gaze lowers, looking anywhere but at him.

“Because I can’t,” she admits quietly.

When her gaze lowers away from him, he feels his heart clenching in his chest again. His fingers reach out for her chin, tilting it up so she'll look at him. His voice is still gentle as he asks, “Why not?”

“They…” she hesitates. “They have something I care about.”

His eyebrows furrow, his head tilting in response to her words.

What could her parents of all people have that she could care about enough to justify them beating her?

And this is a step - an open door - that he needs to push.

“What do they have, darling?”

“My brothers.”

His eyes widen again, shocked to hear that her brothers are somehow mixed up in this twisted arrangement. His voice is full of disbelief and confusion when he says, “Your brothers? What could your parents have that that could have possibly caused you-“

He hesitates, trying to find the right words to say what he means.

“I don't understand, Y/N. None of this makes sense. How can they- I just don't get it.”

“They take care of my brothers. If I have them prosecuted, I’d be taking my chances that a court would grant me guardianship over them, instead of them just becoming victims of the foster care system,” she explains quietly. “Even as an assistant at McLaren, I don’t make enough to give them the life they deserve - to pay for 2 more people's clothes, food, education and everything else they need.”

It’s out in the open now. She’s never felt like more of a coward in her life than when she confesses, “I need my parents to take care of them because I can’t.”

God, how is she supposed to look him in the eyes after this?

He can sense the shame radiating off of her in waves, and he hates it. She shouldn't have to be the one bearing the burden for her family, while suffering for it as well.

She deserves better.

His face softens, and he gently takes her hands in his, his fingers delicately tracing tiny circles across the inside of her wrist - trying to provide some sort of soothing.

She’s caught off guard by the gesture. She’s not entirely sure what reaction she was expecting, but it wasn’t that.

It hurts him to know that she was expecting a different reaction out of him than kindness and gentle understanding. But he pushes that feeling down, and focuses on being there, and being in this moment with her. He keeps his eyes locked on hers, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the sensitive skin of her wrist.

“Say something,” she pleads softly, daring to look at him.

For a minute, he just looks at her - looks at the emotion in her eyes, looks at the uncertainty, looks at what she’s feeling but can't seem to be able to put into words.

But he realizes that maybe there isn't anything that needs to be said right now. Not right now, when they're just sitting in this still silence.

He leans down, and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"We're about to be late for work," she deadpans.

He lets out a short, warm chuckle. There we go.

It was the slightest hint of her normal, genuine smile, but it's a start nonetheless. He shrugs in response to her, reaching over to pick up his coffee with his free hand.

"The day can wait," he replies, taking a sip of the warm, aromatic liquid.

“Maybe for you, Mr. Formula One star,” she mumbles absentmindedly as she pulls out her phone. She needs to find some place to pick up business casual clothes in the next 10 minutes or before she’s screwed for work today. Her clothes from last have blood in them, and she certainly can’t very well wear the pajamas she’d borrowed from Oscar for sleeping into the office. She pulls her phone out, and immediately, he's got another idea.

He turns his body to face her, a smirk playing on his lips.

“How do you feel about a little shopping spree, Miss Assistant?” he asks slyly, an eyebrow cocked and his voice teasing.

He's just got it all mapped out in his head - just a quick trip into town to pick up a few essentials and then getting back to MTC all in time for work.

“Huh?” she says not even looking up from her phone. Now where is the nearest Burlington?

He tries to suppress the laugh that threatens to bubble out of his chest at her words. There's just something so completely normal and casual about the fact that she's so nonchalant about being offered to go on what would likely be a £500- £1500 shopping spree. He raises an eyebrow, looking down at her and realizing he'll have to get her attention before she can even hear what he's saying. "Hello? Earth to Assistant - I'm trying to talk to you over here."

She looks up like she’s been caught. “Sorry, I was just-“

He grins, glad to have her attention, even temporarily. "Trying to google Primark? Or TJ Maxx?"

He snorts, shaking his head at her, "I think we can do better than that, young padawan."

“What? No, I-“

"What?" he challenges. "Trying to find the cheapest department store in a five mile radius or something?"

She blushes, embarrassed. “No…”

He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips at seeing her reaction. "I would almost feel insulted if you weren't so damn cute when you're embarrassed."

He looks her up and down, taking in her outfit - or rather, her lack of an outfit.

"You need more than my hoodie and a pair of sweatpants to go into work, Y/N. I'll need to get you some jeans and a few tops-"

She immediately shoots down WthatW idea. “Look, I just need to get an outfit to get through today. I don’t exactly have a place to keep them or the budget, so it’d really be a waste of-“

The mention of money has him sighing again, his eyes rolling. She's so hellbent on trying to not let him spend anything on her - it's almost irritating.

He shakes his head, his eyes boring into hers, his voice serious. "I'm paying, okay? So you can just shove that argument right back up your ass, okay? I've got money, let me spend it. It's not like I have anything else to spend it on anyway."

“Oscar, you can’t - plus, it’s not like I have my own place to keep a bunch of stuff. All I need is the one outfit, really. I’m thinking of checking out one of the spare rooms in Hospitality, and I could probably keep my spare things there.”

He takes a deep sigh at her explanation - her reasoning is just so bloody selfless.

He knows how the spare rooms in Hospitality work - they're basically just tiny makeshift offices. And she has this thought about moving into them?

He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the thought that this is what she's gotten down to is a hard pill to swallow. The anger wells up within him again - at her parents, at the system, at the world for being so un-fucking-fair.

"Look," he says, his voice hard, "I'm not letting you sleep in one of the bloody spare rooms when there's a perfectly good room in my place. You're not doing that bullshit, alright? It's not up for discussion."

"Okay, Oscar. Sure," she says resignedly. She doesn't have the energy to do this right now. She's... tired.

Surely they can go back and forth about this some other time. Right now, she's just trying to make it to work - she can't risk what feels like the only thing she has going for her at the moment.

He hears her agreement, and her tone, and it takes every little ounce of self-control that he has to not get even more frustrated with the situation. He forces himself to take a deep breath, giving her a nod. He can't force her to take him up on his offer - he understands what her pride means - but it's really not going to make life easy for him.

He leans his elbow against the wall, his eyes meeting hers.

"Fine. I will get you the essentials today then. That is something we agree on, right?"

He gives her a look that basically demands she agree with him. This is going to be non-negotiable. She's going to have at least five changes of clothes and necessities like razors and toothpaste at his apartment by the end of the day - period.

Whatever, she thinks to herself. She gives him a polite smile, before turning around to go.

"Hey-" his hand shoots out to grab her wrist gently, his touch just enough to stop her from leaving.

"Hey," he repeats softly, his tone softer with the contact.

When she finally turns to look at him, his eyes are soft, his thumb gently brushing over the sensitive inside of her wrist. He's going to give her a little bit of space right now - a little time to breathe, and then he'll give her another chance.

“Hey,” she repeats, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

He pulls her in closer to him gently.

"We... We're okay, right?" he asks quietly.

Because this isn't how he wants things to be right now. He just wants her to give him a chance - to at least accept that he's trying to help her - that he's trying to make her life just a little bit easier.

He brings up a hand, gently brushing back the strands of hair that have fallen across her face. His voice is soft when he speaks again. "Right?"

“Of course.”

He wants to ask her more questions. Are you upset? Are you okay? Do you need space?

But he doesn't want to push right now.

He brings up his other hand to brush across the small bruises adorning her neck. His voice drops even lower when he asks, "Can I have a kiss?"

Maybe if he keeps things normal - maybe if he lets them just be them - she'll start to open up the way he wants her to.

She presses a soft kiss against his cheek, before pulling away. This time, the smile on her face feels the slightest bit more real. This side of Oscar seems to have that effect on her.

He wants to reach out and kiss her again - really kiss her and make her realize the way he feels about her - but he restrains himself from doing it. He's going to let her call the shots for now, let her decide what she wants this to be like.

But that doesn't mean he can't tease just a little bit.

He cocks an eyebrow at her gesture, letting out a soft snort. "If you're going to aim that low, I'll have to start bending down," he teases.

She rolls her eyes affectionately, and then glances at the time on the wall. “We should get going, yeah?” she asks softly.

He turns his head to follow her gaze to where she's looking at the wall clock, and finally nods. "Yeah. You're right."

He leans in to press a feather-light kiss to her jaw. "I gotta go change real quick, okay?"

“Of course. I’ll be waiting at the door when you’re ready,” she hums.

He gives her one more look - just to reassure himself that things are still okay- and nods, making his way toward his bedroom. He changes into a blue sweatshirt and a pair of jeans in record time, grabbing his wallet, phone and keys before making his way back downstairs to meet her by the door.

“…Oscar?”

He raises an eyebrow as he pulls his shoes on when he hears her call his name. "Yeah?" he responds, finishing tying his laces before standing up straight, his eyes finding hers.

“You… feelin’ okay?”

He blinks, looking at her oddly for a moment while his brain tries to process the completely out of left field question.

Finally, a soft chuckle leaves his mouth.

"Why do you ask?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow. "See something you like?"

“Osc…” she trails off, trying to find the nicest way to say this. “Today is FP1.”

When he blinks at her, she continues, gesturing to his outfit. “You’re supposed to arrive wearing the team kit?” she reminds.

He stares at her blankly for a few seconds - trying to come up with any excuse he can - before ultimately giving up and letting out a long sigh.

"God-" he grumbles, pulling his shoes off his feet again. "Well, you've been doing things to my brain lately, okay? How do you expect me to remember normal human things?"

“It’s what I’m here for,” she says with a roll of her eyes. Technically, she’s right. “Now go change.”

He takes the reprimand with an exasperated roll of his eyes, turning on his heel and muttering something about her being bossy before heading back upstairs. Not five minutes later, he's heading back downstairs in his team kit, wearing a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

“Okay Grumpy, let’s get this show on the road. You good to go?” she asks, checking in to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything else.

He's never been a morning person - and this morning seems to be the worst of all - so his reaction is more disgruntled than normal. He shoves his wallet in his pockets before raising an eyebrow at her. "What do you think?" he counters sarcastically.

“Ouch,” she remarks, wincing emphatically, lips pressed together into a straight line. “Got it.”

He lets out another sigh, shaking his head. He's a grumpy idiot in the mornings, but he can't help it. God knows he's not a morning person.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'm just tired."

He reaches out a hand, taking her hand gently.

"But we've got a day full of work ahead of us. So come on," he says, tugging her toward the door softly. "Let's get going."

He closes the front door softly behind them, locking the door before starting toward the garage - his hand never leaving hers. When they reach the garage, he lets her hand go so he can get behind the wheel. She glances at him, wondering about the missing contact, but by then he’s starting up the car and getting settled into his seat before he looks over at her.

"Seatbelt?" he asks.

“Always,” she confirms, clicking the buckle into place. “Think we still have time to stop at any of the shops?” she asks, hesitant. She knows he has a million more important things to be doing than chauffeuring her to the market for personal shopping .

He scoffs at the suggestion, his eyebrow twitching at the notion.

"Seriously?" he asks, giving her an incredulous look. Sure, maybe he does have more important things to do, but there's a really short list of things that are more important to him than her.

"Of course we've got time. And if we don't, we'll make time."

She smiles sweetly at him, a little relieved by his answer. Of course, she knows still has a hectic day ahead and of course, she’s still worried about time - but it’s a weight off her shoulders to at least have one less thing to worry about.

And Jesus, maybe that kind of smile of hers is dangerous, or something, because the second it's on her face, a soft smile of his own pulls at his mouth.

He figures it’s probably some psychological thing.

He starts up the car - letting out a little noise that's close to a chuckle - his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as he tries to hold himself in check.

He really wants to kiss her right now, but he decides to be good, instead. Be a gentleman, or something. He makes a mental note to be sure to kiss her later, really kiss her. Kiss her until he can't taste words on his tongue, and he can't whisper sweet nothings against their lips, and-

He has to stop his train of thought before it goes in a direction he can't back away from.

So instead, he decides to focus on the drive.

"Let's go."

Once they’re parked in the staff parking at MTC, she turns to him to say, “You can go on in first, yeah? I don’t want them thinking you’re coming in late.”

He can see how much she's putting his needs before her own - and it does something… funny to his ego - a pleasant feeling that makes him smile to himself. He turns to her, reaching over to pull her to him, giving her a sweet kiss. It's just a peck - soft, warm lips pressed against his cheek for a fraction of a second..

When it's done, he pulls back to look her in the eye, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think we're both gonna be late," he says quietly.

“I can be five minutes late, “ she smiles kindly. “I am your assistant, after all. Not you.”

He shakes his head, trying to ignore the way something in his chest warms when he glances over to the passenger seat. Too much caffeine, perhaps. He reaches over to touch her face - but at the last second he changes his mind and goes for her hair, running his hand through the soft locks briefly before he pulls back. "Okay, five. Ten tops," he says, before giving her a look that reminds her there will be consequences if she's any later.

"See you inside. And no getting lost," he teases.

“You got it, boss.”

“…Oscar?” He hears Y/N’s voice as she knocks on the door of his driver’s room. Back to work, back to being professional, it seems.

He hears the sound of his door opening and Y/N's voice filtering through his door - and he's reminded with a jolt that yes, there is, in fact, work to do today. He sits up a little straighter, schooling his expression into one of a professional and putting a polite smile on his face. "Yes, Y/N? Come in."

She peeks her head in, hoping he’s decent this time.

“Here to remind you that you have a meeting with the race engineers before we have the team meeting at 10, followed by FP1 before we round out the first half of the day with lunch at around one.”

His gaze finds hers easily.

She had that look - the one that told him that all the progress they'd made that morning had gone away as soon as she reached work - and he hated it. He'd missed the way she'd looked at him in the car - the way that was so filled with affection that it practically carried its own physical weight.

But that wasn't a look she could wear at work, and he knew that.

So he nods and smiles at her. "Thanks Y/N. I'll be right there."

She checks the time on her phone. “If I’m not mistaken, you were actually supposed to be there… about 7 minutes ago.”

He winces, closing his eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh.

The morning had been too distracting - what with the whole "girl he likes spent the night in his bed" thing - he hasn't given much thought to work. He should have been better prepared than this. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Oscar?” she says, waving a hand in front of him to break him out of whatever daydream he’s in.

They can’t start the strategy analysis meeting without him, obviously, because they’re his race engineers. And yet if Oscar doesn’t show up right about now, the blame is sure to fall on her shoulders since she’s supposed to be his babysitter, apparently.

He takes a breath, giving her a small nod. He's been a complete dumbass today - a distracted, lovesick fool. He needs to get his head in the game. "Yeah, okay, I'm good. Let's go."

“Phone,” she reminds him, as she watches him leave it behind. He turns around, blinking at her before looking down at the desk.

His phone.

It was still there - forgotten on the desk because as soon as she'd come into the room, he'd forgotten all about everything except for her. He shoots her an irritated look, but he picks it up.

He would never admit it in a million years, but the fact that she was being a nag right now was doing something funny to his heart. Must be allergies or something.

“Wallet.”

While it wasn’t needed, Oscar always preferred having it on him instead of leaving it in his room or his locker or his personal car. If he forgot it, he’d just end up having to ask her to go fetch it later.

His other hand goes to his back pocket, confirming that his wallet was already tucked safely inside of it. "I'm not completely incompetent, Y/N - you realize that, yeah?" he says, the words coming out harsher than he meant for them to.

He didn't want to be so rude with her, but he was already running late, and she was being a bit of a nag.

“Yeah? Is your tablet back there too?” she retorts.

He bites his lip, his brain racing to figure out whether he had his tablet or not.

Yes, it turned out. It was right where he'd left it on the edge of his desk - completely forgotten until this minute. He snatches it up, sending her a look, "Anything else I need to be aware of?"

“Just that you have a meeting you’re running 10 minutes late for,” she informs him.

“Well that, and you forgot to lock the car this morning.”

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He can't decide whether he's the most forgetful person on the planet, or the most distracted.

Maybe he's not forgetful, maybe he's just not focused.

Yes, that sounds right. Distracted.

He looks back up at her, a smile playing on his lips, "Anything else I may have forgotten? Like, I don't know, the way to walk to my meeting?"

“Only one way to find out, Sir.”

Fair enough.

"Oh come on, you mean you're not coming with me?" he teases, a smirk on his face as he reaches for the door handle.

“Of course not.” The face she makes suggests that that is obvious. “While you’ve got a meeting here with our race engineers, I’ve got to go meet with Lando and his team.”

He stops and turns back around, his eyes fixed on hers. "Lando? You're going to run off to talk to Lando all day?"

"Well there's a meeting with him and his team plus Zak, and I'd agreed to be your stand-in since you can't be in two places at once, so... yes."

He knows she's just doing her job, and he knows that it's completely irrational to be so jealous of her talking to Lando of all people.

Lando is a member of the team, and one of his closest friends.

That didn't stop the thick plasma of jealousy from clawing at his gut - he knows that Lando's got a soft spot for her. He tries his absolute best to play things off so he can seem cool and unaffected by her words, "Right. Got it."

She misunderstands his upset for something else.

She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about missing the meeting with Zak, okay? It'll probably be only like half an hour, and I promise to take good notes for you.”

She gives him a small smile. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

There's a warmth spreading through his body at her reassurance.

She'd misunderstood him - she thinks that he's upset at missing the meeting with Zak. And she's right in a way - he should be upset because he does need to be at that meeting - but all he can focus on is the way she's smiling at him.

And the way she's touching his shoulder. And the way her fingers feel against him.

His eyes lock on hers.

They're interrupted by the sound of one of the race engineer's that Oscar is meant to be in a meeting with calling out to him from one of the meeting rooms.

"Right, right. I should-" he trails off, his tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "I'll see you later, okay?"

She says the same thing to him then that she says to him later, right before he heads out for FP1.

"Go make me proud."

He can't help but laugh at that - at the fact that she's treating him like he's a kid or a puppy or something. But here she is, being his assistant, his friend, his something - and her words are somehow the thing that's got him feeling ready to kick ass and take names.

Weird.

Once FP1 is over and done, everyone has worked up an appetite. Chattering voices fill the hallways as racers, assistants and various team members make their way to the main cafeteria.

Oscar finds himself on the listening end of Lando’s rambles about things he noted about the car during their practice as they find a table to sit at.

He's not really listening to any of the words coming out of Lando's mouth - he can't stop thinking about how she'd wished him luck before he went out to FP1.

He'd actually had a surprisingly good session. One of his best, even. No one else had tried that risky move in corner 9 that he'd tried - and the engineers seemed really impressed by his times.

So she'd been right - he had made her proud. He'd made himself proud as well.

When he finally does take a long enough break to pay attention to Lando's one-sided conversation, he realizes that the topic of conversation has already changed four or five times and he's completely lost. He sighs, trying to catch back up at some point in the monologue about Lando's new apartment in Woking or something.

"Sorry - uh, what was that?"

“Dude, you there? You looked totally out right then,” Lando chuckles, before putting a forkful of tofu in mouth.

Lando's tofu looks awful.

He's never going to understand why he's such a health nut.

"I'm just-" he trails off, trying to find the words. He tries to come up with some excuse, but his mind is blank.

“What? Lookin’ for somethin’?” Lando asks, brows furrowed, and through a mouthful of drab-looking quinoa.

He shrugs, trying to play innocent. "Just… thinking." He's never thought about anyone else as much as he finds himself thinking about her lately - and they're not even really dating or anything. Hell, they'd just made out the night before.

“C’mon, mate. Spit it out already - you look…” he gives Oscar a judgemental once over. “Like your constipated or some shit.”

Meanwhile Oscar is thinking about where she could be. She’s his assistant after all - the three of them tend to have lunch together on race weekends. Plus, everyone else is here - so where the hell is she?

He chuckles - he's had way more embarrassing conversations with Lando before.

"Constipated?" the Aussie counters, "More like in love. I'm having girl problems."

Lando, as wonderfully attention deficit as he is, seems to take that idea and run with it. He shovels another messy bite into his mouth. “Say, speaking of girls - where’s Y/N? Isn’t she usually here by now?”

Oscar snorts, reaching over to wipe a piece of quinoa from the corner of his teammate’s mouth.

It's messy. The way Lando eats is gross.

"No clue. She's not with you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He's only asking to be polite. If for whatever reason she was with Lando, he'd be pissed.

“Nah,” he says, shaking his head in a way that makes his messy curls fall a little onto his forehead. “Last I saw her was when we left Zak’s office. Think she said summ’in about needing to grab something from her office?”

Oscar tries to fight the urge to get up and look for her. She’s his assistant, not his cat or something. Maybe she just wasn’t in the mood for lunch together today, or she could have an errand to run, or maybe she’s in a meeting that wasn’t in her calendar-

Lando must see the slight concern on his face, because he chuckles. "What, d’you miss her or something? You've been acting all weird since she left."

Oscar shakes his head, trying to play it off. "I'm just- I'm just wondering, y'know? She's supposed to be here, isn't she?" His stomach is tightening. Something feels weird about this. Maybe he should go find her?

“We could check on her if you want,” Lando offers.

Oscar's eyes brighten at the suggestion. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.

"Yeah. I think that would be…" he trails off, trying to think of the word.He nods, trying to pretend that she's not taking up literally all of the space in his brain.

"Yeah, yeah, let me just throw this in the bin," Lando mutters, getting to throw his trash away. These new biodegradable straws were supposed to be good, something about them turning to compost for the environment. Instead, they decided to become compost-y mush in Lando’s mouth - every time.

They make their way down the corridor to her office, approaching the open door. It’s empty. He exchanges a look with Lando, Oscar taking a deep breath as he pushes the door open. Lando waits somewhat awkwardly by the entrance to the restroom, unsure if he’s allowed to intrude or if he’s meant to just be moral support.

Oscar peeks his head in, taking a glance around. He sees a row of sinks, and no-one else.

"Y/N?" he calls out gently.

He hears a faint gurgle in response. It sounds like it’s coming from one of the stalls further back, actually. The sound makes Oscar's stomach drop. It sounds like she's puking, or maybe choking. He runs over to all of the other stalls, his knuckles knocking loudly on them as he tries to get someone's attention. He calls out her name, hoping the sound of her voice will put this all to rest.

“Y/N, come out." he repeats, his voice desperate and worried.

When he knocks on the door to the last stall, the door budges. It isn’t locked.

He hears the sound of her retching coming from within, followed by a long, dry cough.

Something tells him that this wouldn't be a good moment to go in - that he shouldn't look right now. But he doesn’t even give it a second thought. His mind is consumed with the thought of her - his concern for her, his person.

He slowly pushes open the bathroom stall door, bracing himself for the sight before him. He finds a hunched over figure leaning against the wall, fatigued. But she tilts her face marginally in his direction, and Oscar’s heart stills in his fucking chest.

Her lips - the same ones that had been pressed against his just hours ago - are smeared with blood. Her teeth are speckled with it. Red splatters and spots of blood marr the front of her blouse.

All of the air drains from his lungs at once. The air thickens. He can't move.

What the hell even happened?

He tries to speak, but he can't get a word out. So what does he do?

He does the one thing he can - he moves in to hold her.

“O- Oscar,” she trembles, too busy to be bothered to be professional.

“I think s- something’s wrong…”

Part 3

a/n: thank you so much for making it this far! i'd love to hear what you thought of it :)

#formula 1 fic #oscar x assistant!reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar my beloved #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 fanfic #pls read this and validate me #sorry for the cliffhanger

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atlabeth · 11 months ago

Text

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before.

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it.

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion.

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him.

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet.

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station.

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory.

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling.

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert.

“Always.”

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.”

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own.

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat.

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.”

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they?

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone.

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime.

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought.

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you.

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table.

The Poseidon cabin is empty again.

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically.

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate.

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year.

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back.

You should be here. You’re not.

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?)

There are some things a person just can’t get over.

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches.

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand.

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things.

He isn’t ever going to be the same again.

You should still be alive.

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick.

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured.

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?”

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.”

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.”

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?”

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.”

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?”

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything.

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?”

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?”

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.”

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.”

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.”

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.”

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?”

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.”

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.”

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.”

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.”

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.”

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.”

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.”

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?”

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.”

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.”

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.”

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile.

You were the luckiest girl in the world.

“Thank you,” you said.

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said.

“For what?”

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.”

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured.

The second year isn’t any easier.

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief.

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass.

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care.

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better.

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes.

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you.

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it.

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not.

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke.

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again.

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.)

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul.

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this.

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job.

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here.

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you. He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid.

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on.

And then Kronos appears in his dreams.

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death.

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke.

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston.

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one.

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours.

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods.

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures.

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it.

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it.

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.

You always told each other about your nightmares.

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t.

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate.

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about.

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one.

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking.

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got.

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest.

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change.

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact.

Almost.

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done.

…Almost.

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers.

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal.

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head.

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan.

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

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iwritefandomimagines · 2 years ago

Text

MORE THAN ENOUGH — ETHAN LANDRY

masterlist

pairing: ethan landry x f!reader

description: you’ve been hanging around the group more often lately, and they haven’t clocked the way you always end up leaving with ethan. when you overhear them doubting you’d ever date him, you decide to make a show of just how much your boyfriend means to you.

warnings: swearing, mindy is kinda being an asshole but i love her it just fits the plot, also they make popcorn like … impossibly fast at the end but i was not wasting time on popcorn making when i had FLUFF to write huh. no gf mentions !!!

author’s note: this has been almost finished for so long and i finally finished it today lmao. hope you enjoy!

“Hey E, when did Y/N say she was getting here?”

“What’re you asking him for?”

“Because obviously it’s him who’s going to know?”

You rolled your eyes at the argument between Mindy and Chad as you quietly paced down the hallway towards the lounge.

“Why is that obvious?” Mindy countered, and you could practically picture Ethan’s pout as he butted in now, “Why are you so sure she wouldn’t tell me?”

Mindy scoffed, “What, you know everything just because you have a massive crush on her? You probably just, like, stalk her or something.”

“I don’t stalk her—,”

“Okay, you just follow her round like a lost little puppy she has to deal with all the damn time,” Mindy snorted, “I’m just saying she’d have text the group chat, not just you.”

“Hey, that’s harsh,” Tara interjected, “Whether she’s out of his league or not, that’s not what the deal is here. They’re just as close as she is with you, if not closer. It makes sense she’d text him.”

You shook your head even though they still couldn’t see you, lingering just past the doorway and listening in as they talked.

“Why is this whole thing being blown out of proportion? He only asked when she’d get here, not for you to all talk about me like I’m a total loser she’d never be seen with,” you could hear that he was taking their words to heart as he tried to stick up for himself for once.

“Nobody said total loser,” Mindy shrugged, “But we’re just speculating. Chad talks about you two like a couple, and I’m simply reminding him that you’re obviously not.”

Anika put her hand on her girlfriend’s arm for a second, “Mindy, c’mon. You’re just being mean now.”

“I know she’s out of my league and I never said any different Mindy,” Ethan groaned, “Could we shut up about this already? She’ll be here any minute and I don’t need her hearing you talking about how pathetic I am.”

Mindy huffed, raising her arms in feigned surrender, “You said it, not me. Look, sorry, I’m not trying to be harsh I swear. Just no point in you getting your hopes up, is there?”

You took that as your cue, striding into the room and heading straight towards your boyfriend.

“Hey guys,” you hummed, throwing down your bag and plopping yourself down onto Ethan’s lap and curling your arms around his neck.

He looked perplexed, unsure why you waltzed in and made such a show of PDA all of a sudden, but his tense body relaxed under your touch regardless.

His hands curled around your waist as he shuffled back in his seat to make you both more comfortable, his voice shy as he responded, “Hey.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Mindy rose to her feet, “What?”

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the thousandth time, turning your head to shoot her a sickly sweet smile, “What?”

You could see Chad stifling a laugh, because he’d seen you sneak out of their dorm one too many times not to have figured out you were actually dating by now.

“Why are you—,”

“Sitting on my boyfriend’s lap? There’s no other seats, Minds,” you shrugged, fighting back a smirk as she went bug-eyed, “Oh, shit. I forgot we still hadn’t told you guys. My bad!”

Mindy fumbled over her words for a moment, still staring at you as your fingers twirled Ethan’s curls at the base of his neck and his fingers danced over the waistband of your jeans.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling warmth radiate from his skin as his eyes darted around the room for everyone’s reactions.

“Boyfriend? You’re together?”

Tara was grinning, “Nice!”

“Aw you guys,” Anika grinned, “That’s so cute. We can double date!”

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe if Mindy apologises for talking to Ethan like he’s the shit on the bottom of her shoe, yeah.”

“I’m sorry, I just—,”

“It’s fine, Mindy,” Ethan shrugged, nuzzling his face into your neck to hide away from the attention, “Can we just move on? At least you all know now.”

You frowned, pressing a kiss atop his curls as he remained close to you. You watched Mindy frantically search for the right words to say, before deciding to stay quiet.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, tension evident as Ethan’s grip on you seemed to tighten.

“It’s Ethan who’s been asking to keep things quiet, so thanks for the reminder of why,” you huffed, “Because you make him feel like he doesn’t deserve me. It’s not fair, Minds. At all. And you’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am your best friend!” Mindy replied, “I just didn’t expect this, that’s all. I’m sorry, okay? I’m happy for you guys. I really am.”

You scoffed, “Well maybe if you spent a little more time treating Ethan like an actual person and not some pointless side character in a, like, movie or whatever, you’d realise he’s a good person and that it’s me who doesn’t deserve him.”

You felt guilty for your outburst, and you could see that it had really driven your point home to Mindy, who was now staring at her feet shyly and snuggled in close to Anika.

You snuggled in closer to Ethan’s lap, interlacing your fingers as you did so. His hands were as warm as his face had become as a result of all of the attention, and you could tell he felt uncomfortable.

He did, however, enjoy the fact that everyone knew you were together now.

A sudden bout of confidence sparked in him as he pulled your joined hands up to kiss the back of yours, “Whatever. Whether she’s out of my league or not, she’s my girlfriend. Now let’s just put the stupid movie on, yeah?”

Everyone nodded silently, tension still thick in the air as Mindy picked up the remote control, but before she could press play you hopped back up out of your boyfriend’s lap.

“Oh, I brought popcorn,” you exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him up as you picked up your bag again too, “We’ll go make it really quick. Won’t be long.”

Ethan followed you into the kitchen, your hands still interlocked, and smiled confusedly at you as you hopped up onto the counter beside the stovetop and quickly began preparing the popcorn.

“Sorry about that,” you bit your lip, watching him carefully as he sauntered to your side and placed a palm on your hip, taking control of the popcorn making, “I overheard the conversation and got really pissed off. Also just missed you and wanted to be annoyingly PDA’y… Is that alright?”

He scoffed, “Are you kidding? I only wanted to keep it from them because they don’t think I deserve you and I didn’t want you realising they’re right… I’m like, so happy, that I can kiss you around them now. So happy.”

You pouted, “I hate that you think that too, though. You more than deserve me, Eth. And I’m really lucky to have you.”

His thumb rubbed at the skin of your waist just beneath your top as his other hand shook the popcorn as it heated up.

“You’re the best, Y/N,” he hummed, pecking your lips quickly before refocusing on the popcorn, “I kinda wish we could just go to mine or something instead. I’m not in the mood for anyone else’s company anymore.”

You leaned in to kiss him, a hand carding through his curls briefly as he took the popcorn off the heat and set it aside, turning off the hob. His hands then flew back to your waist, settling himself between your parted legs to kiss you properly.

“I wish we could just go to yours too. We’ll dip as soon as the movie ends, yeah?” you grinned, biting your lip as you pulled back from the kiss, “We can deal with them asking questions another day. ‘M more in the mood to just curl up with you.”

He nodded, “Me too. Sounds like a plan. And thank you, for tonight, seriously. I’m not exaggerating when I say how lucky I am to have you.”

You shook your head, “You’re my boyfriend, and I’m proud of that fact. Mindy just needs to get her head out of her ass sometimes. I’m sorry they’re so shitty to you sometimes, it’s pathetic.”

He kissed you quickly again, scooping your waist to pull you down from the counter to stand beside him.

“Honestly at this point I don’t care anymore,” he shrugged, “I’ve got you. Oh, but please don’t agree to any double dates without me. No offence, but a double date with Mindy and Anika would be, like, my personal hell.”

You giggled, shaking your head again, “We’ll work on her weird unnecessary disdain for you, babe. But of course, I understand. C’mon, we better get back in there.”

“Can’t we just stay in here instead?”

“I wish.”

“Ugh,” he huffed, an adorable pout gracing his features that almost made you give in and make up an emergency reason for you both to leave, “At least we get to cuddle this time. I’m sick of you always having to sit away from me.”

You chuckled, “You do tend to watch me from across the room like a lost puppy. It’s adorable. In fact, I’m surprised nobody ever notices me doing the exact same thing back. We’ve been totally obvious this whole time.”

He kissed you again, briefly and feverishly like he couldn’t stop himself, “Our friends are idiots, huh.”

“Absolute morons,” you smiled, kissing him one final time before grabbing the popcorn and his hand.

“Let’s go get through a movie, hey?”

———

thanks for reading !!!

i hope this was okay, it felt a bit messy and shit when i was editing but i’ve been stuck on it so long so thought i’d post and then maybe come back to it? let me know what you thought!

feel free to request more, i’ve been chaotic with which old drafts i’m finishing lately but my requests are still open — and here’s my masterlist!

#ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #scream #scream imagine #scream imagines #scream vi #scream vi imagine #jack champion

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 11 months ago

Note

hii! welcome back!! i love love love your writing:)

i’m not sure if you’ve written something like this but the reader is stressed over studying for an exam, she’s in the library until very late at night when one of the marauders (i can’t decide who, you can choose!) finds her dozed and trying to force herself to stay awake. then he finds out she hasn’t been eating properly. then he asks “are you okay?” and that’s what it takes for her to break down into tears? sorry if this is weird! i’m usually a silent reader. so mostly just a lot of angst and comfort, then fluff? thank you for taking time to read this! it’s okay if you can’t write it!

thank you so so much again! so glad you requested 😊 really hope you like it!!

pairing: Remus Lupin x reader word count: 1.4k description: fluffy; i left it up to you a bit at what stage you read their relationship

All the words finally made sense. It was like a puzzle. And it all fit together just like this. Or wait was it a different way? Should you go back to that first thread or follow this new one? Wait what was the first one again? There were some words. You couldn’t remember the words, but you knew how important it was that you put them in the right order…

“Sweetheart…”

What?

“Sweetheart…” you hear again.

You open your eyes and see a bunch of crowded words on parchment right in front of you. You realize you’d fallen asleep on your notes, that they’d bled into your stress dreaming.

“There you are.” The voice is warm and gentle. You know it.

“You fell asleep, love. It’s late. Thought it was weird I never saw you come back, so I came to look for you.”

“Remus?”

“Yeah, pretty girl. It’s me. Wake up.”

You sit up, and Remus adjusts your hair and jumper for you as you rub at your face.

“I was studying.”

“I know,” he chuckles. “But I think you need some rest now, don’t you?”

“Don’t I need some rest, or don’t I think so too?”

Remus laughs softly.

“Too clever for your own good. Get out of study mode, lovely,” he tells you, bringing his hand to your head and scratching your scalp playfully.

You lean into it on instinct, loving his touch and his comfort after a long, lonely day in the library. Remus had wanted to study with you or at least keep you company, knowing how stressed out you were about this upcoming exam, but you told him he was too distracting and you’d find him later. That must’ve been many hours ago.

Remus notices you shifting into his touch, and he slides his whole body closer to you.

“Hey, you okay?” he whispers.

“I..” you start, thinking “I’m fine” will come out automatically as it always does. But it gets stuck in your throat. It gets stuck on a lump there that is making itself more and more felt.

“I…” you try again, but this time your voice completely cracks.

“Hey, hey, come here, sweetheart. It’s okay,” Remus responds, bringing you into his embrace. He holds your head to his chest, wraps his other arm around you, caressing your back.

You immediately start sobbing.

“It’s alright,” he keeps repeating. He holds you close and pets you more intensely.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble through panting breaths into his jumper.

“It’s okay,” he says quickly in his warmest tones. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m just sorry I didn’t come look for you earlier.”

“Ugh, I’m so embarrassed,” you admit, pulling back and wiping your face with your sleeves, not feeling brave enough to look him in his warm brown eyes. “You shouldn’t need to take care of me. I should be able to do that myself. I just got a little carried away. I don’t know why I’m freaking out so much over this exam.”

He shakes his head gently at you and brings his hands to either side of your face, lifting it to look into his and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

“There’s nothing embarrassing about caring a lot, Y/N. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” he smiles adoringly. “And there’s nothing wrong with needing people, love. I’m happy to be here for you. I just wish you’d let me.”

You nod slightly and manage to keep his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“No more of that. You don’t have to be sorry, okay?”

“Okay…”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he says with a gentle firmness only Remus could deliver.

“Okay,” you say more certainly.

“Good.”

He kisses your forehead quickly then goes to pack up your stuff. As he’s stacking your notes, your stomach makes a low rumble. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more embarrassed.

“When’s the last time you ate?” His tone is chiding but teasing.

“We had that pie…”

“With me?!” he startles. You nod.

“Baby, that was ages ago. Come on, we’ll find you something.”

Remus takes your bag, just tssking at your pathetic objection as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder. He takes your hand, and you walk out of the library together.

You walk in silence, but just Remus’s presence next to you gives you a quiet peace you’d definitely been missing. You lean your head on his shoulder the rest of the way, and he can’t stop his subtle smile the entire time.

When you get to the common room, he sits you down on the sofa, rubbing your shoulders dotingly and kissing the crown of your head before standing straight up. You’re confused why he’s not already sitting next to you.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” You pout at his words. “I know, I’ll be quick, sweetheart; I promise.” He turns to go then turns back to you. “Those notes better still be stuffed in your bag when I get back.” He points a finger at your bag then at you, and you giggle and nod. He wags his finger a bit in emphasis, staring at you hard, then turn and bounds up the stairs toward the boy’s dormitories.

It’s a mere couple of minutes later you hear him bouncing back down, but you’re confused to hear multiple sets of footsteps. You turn and see Remus walking back toward you and Sirius walking toward the door.

“Hi, Y/N/N,” says Sirius. “So needy, aren’t you?” he teases then is out the door.

“Where’s he going?” you ask Remus as he settles in next you.

“He’s going to sneak into the kitchens for us.” You go to object, but Remus softly places his fingers on your lips. “He’s happy to, lovely. No matter how much he denies it, Sirius is a sweetheart.”

“I know he is, Rem, but I really hate being all this trouble. All over a little exam.”

“It’s a big exam and very little trouble. We’re your friends, Y/N. When are you going to let us be here for you as much as you’re here for us?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper honestly. You look down and are mortified to feel on the brink of tears again. Godric, you really did need some sleep.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Remus starts, but quickly adds, “Or do, if you need to. Just do what you need to do, and I’m here, okay?”

He’s the sweetest person alive, you think, and you throw yourself into his arms. He chuckles at your affection but returns it immediately. You shift till his arms are around you, and you lift your legs into his lap, which he lovingly welcomes, pulling you close.

“You’re really kind, Rem, you know that?”

“Am I? Not doing much really.”

“I’ll start letting you help me with things when you start taking my compliments,” you say through a strained, tired smile.

“I’ll work on it,” he cedes.

You sit in silence together, the fire crackling nearby, Remus’s hands caressing you, and you find yourself dangerously close to sleep. Your eyes feel really heavy, keeping them open a struggle in vain.

Remus feels you tense up every once in a while before slowly relaxing into him again.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair. “Just rest, okay? When Sirius gets back, we’ll have something to hold you over, and then I’m sending you to bed.”

“I don’t wanna go to bed.” You sound like a little kid, and he chuckles at you.

“You have to rest, Y/N. No more studying tonight.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” you say, your voice slurred with sleep. “I don’t wanna go to bed because I want to be with you.” Even in your sleepy state, you register Remus tense slightly at this clarification.

“You’re the only thing that’s relaxing, Rem,” you go on. Your exhaustion is making you honest, your lacking the energy to over-think and filter. “You’re so warm and sweet, and I like how you care about me… and how you smell.” You nuzzle into his jumper.

Remus is quiet, but he squeezes your body against his. Then softly, before you fall asleep, you hear his whisper, “Yeah, I care about you, darling. Adore you actually. More than anything.” A beat. “Okay, sweet girl. If this is how you’ll fall asleep, I’ll hold you all night.” He kisses your head again and adds, “I’ll hold you for forever if you’ll let me…”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fluff #remus x reader #remus x you #remus x y/n #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders fanfic #harry potter fanfic #sirius black

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slxtarchive · 4 months ago

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𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. where sam was there to help y/n when she had a rough day and resorted to unwinding in a not-so-healthy way.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. okay so i was just thinking for a sam golbach fic reader relapses (self harm) cuz their mind has been getting too much lately, and maybe sam helps them clean up and then helps take care of them and makes them feel loved nd just like lets them know that they don't need to do that because he's there from now on?? if that makes sense. also maybe not an established romantic relationship but maybe it ends up that way? like sam tells reader he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if anything happened to them he just cares a lot about them and yeah

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! third person pov, talks of self harm, relapsing, descriptive literature, friend!sam, friends to lovers.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. if anybody needs anyone to talk to i’m here! 🤍 sorry this took so long to post & write! this one hit really personal for me but id okay to say ive healed & im continuing to heal from my past. if anyone is going through similar hardships, you can get through it! i believe, love, & support you always.

y/n told herself she wouldn’t put herself in this position again. she wouldn’t.. but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

she had tried to stay strong, to stop letting her mind control every action she took; it just became too much. she sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, tears making their way down her flushed face. she gripped the item as she took the first swipe, lightly but firm enough.

just stop. she told herself. her hand shook as she went to repeat the action. she looked at her skin i just need to feel something, she thought. something other than what im feeling now.

she had been doing so good but somehow found herself back at square one. all that work that she had done was all gone. she felt hopeless, as if this never ending black hole of despair would stay with her for the rest of her life.

she took a minute to think on her life and what could have went wrong to cause her to relapse. all those thoughts had no specific effect on relapsing, its just her brain had begun to spin a web that caused her to get stuck in her head all day. what else can i do? she thought as she took another swipe at her skin. she planned on continuing until she heard her bedroom door open.

her heart dropped to her ass. “y/n..?” the voice had confusion laced in their voice.

sam.

it was sam.

the blonde boy was one of the things that y/n had in her life that truly made her happy. he was her best friend. she never told him that but she truly meant that with every fiber of her being.

y/n quickly wiped her tears when she heard the footsteps come closer to the bathroom. wiping the tears would make the tear stains disappear but the thing about breaking down, you’re left with that struggle of trying to catch your breath.

she couldn’t stop gasping, trying to breathe calm and collectively. that’s why as sam stopped right beside the bathroom. he heard a small gasp escape her lips that caught his attention.

his eyebrows raised in confusion. he put his head beside the door trying to hear something else. “uh.. y/n? you in there?” he knocked. he received no answer. multiple questions and thoughts ran through his mind before he opened the door.

sam had seen many things in his life, traumatic even, but this — it was like his heart had jumped, dropped, did a tumble, and self destructed all in the span of 3 seconds. he instantly became nauseous at the sight of y/n holding a blade to her forearm. the small cuts that had caught his eye before she covered her arm and hid the blade had his blood run cold.!

the second y/n had been caught she felt guilty and embarrassed. she felt pathetic, like she wasn’t strong enough to handle the hard reality of the real world. immediately, she stood up and faced sam. “i-im sorry you weren’t supposed to see that.. it’s not what it looks like.” she sniffled trying to contain her tears. “i… it just, lately everything has been so crazy and i haven’t … i haven’t done this in a while but… but everything has just been… too much.” she rambled out, trying to explain herself.

sam’s face of confusion faltered. he thought about her words. the way she mentioned in a while had him wondering what caused her to relapse and fall back into this situation. he scanned her face. she’s too pure to be suffering like this. he paused thinking of what to say but truly all that he wanted to do was give her a hug. so that’s what he did.

he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her protectively. she melted into his touch. her lip quivered as she wrapped her own arms around him. her body shook as more tears cascaded down her face.

sam felt his own eyes sting with tears. “i’m sorry.” he choked up. “i’m sorry you’ve been going through all of this alone.” he rested his cheek on her head closing his eyes trying to stay strong for her.

y/n hasn’t said anything, still feeling guilty. sam pulled away and looked down at the floor seeing the blade and a tissue beside it. he picked them up and threw both away.

he turned back to y/n who had a tired look on her face. “as long as i’m here nothing will hurt you, okay? i will be here for you. you can depend on me. you don’t need to do this anymore to yourself y/n, i won’t let you.” he took her face into his hands. “i promise, i love you and im always here for you no matter what.”

y/n’s heart raced as sam’s words really effected her. she nodded pursing her lips and biting her cheek.

he brought her head to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “i mean it y/n. i don’t know what i’d do with myself without you. you complete me.”

y/n’s eyes scanned sam’s face noticing how his own eyes began to water and become puffy. the scene before her causing her throat to close. “m’sorry i promise i wont do it anymore. i love you sam and… fuck — i know i shouldn’t be doing that. i just didn’t know what else to do.” she leaned against his chest.

“i know, i know baby but from now on you can talk to me about it. about anything. i care so much about you. you truly have no idea how much i…” he stopped himself not wanting to overwhelm her. “just know you mean the world to me. you are and have been my priority since we met and that’s never going to change.” the reassuring words causing y/n to relax.

y/n started to get inside her head, wondering what if he got tired of her, if he’d leave her, what she’d do or how she’d feel if that happened — or even worse; if she would be a burden to sam.

sam noticed y/n zoning out. “hey, tell me what you’re thinking please.” his hands reached down to grab her own.

she took a deep breath. c’mon y/n. she blinked a couple times trying to sort her thoughts. “don’t wanna be a burden to you.” she admitted to which sam immediately shook his head.

sam brought her hands to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “you could never ever be a burden to me. you keep me pushing through every day because i want to be the best for you. to be the best friend you deserve and… and whatever the future may hold for us — i want you there always, okay? don’t ever forget that.”

his words wavered through the air and stood there so you could process what he truly meant. you thought on it, picking up some hidden message that you’d both communicate about later but as of now, he truly helped you feel understood and seen. as long as you had him you’d feel physically, mentally, and emotionally secure and protected.

#𖦹°‧★ 𝑺𝑳𝑿𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬 #𝑺𝑨𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑯 ᝰ.ᐟ #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach smut #sam golbach imagine #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby smut #colby and sam #sam golbach #sam x reader #sam #sam and colby #sam golbach angst #sub sam golbach #sam golbach edit #sam golbach fluff #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach au

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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

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Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary.

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark.

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him.

But you can’t.

So you don’t.

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away.

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle.

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence.

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from.

Lose your leg or starve.

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful.

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge.

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable.

So there’s only one other option for you.

You steal.

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk.

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching.

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day.

You need more.

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea.

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal.

The only problem is your neighbors reputation.

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time.

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty.

So you’d have to be careful.

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area.

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings.

Lucky you.

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process.

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor.

A revolver.

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window?

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear.

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness.

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way.

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you.

No one would look for you.

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner.

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all.

He isn’t a terrible last sight.

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.”

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you.

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes.

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed.

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch.

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit.

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all.

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all.

Fuck.

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh.

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively.

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself.

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?”

A lot.

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes.

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you.

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising.

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.”

You told him you’d think about it.

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help.

And just like that, it was your idea.

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after.

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did.

But he wanted nothing of the sort.

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning.

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before.

He must like having someone to take care of.

That’s how you explain it to yourself.

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you.

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was.

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that.

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was.

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already.

He had acted unsure.

You know now that it was acting.

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him.

It was your idea.

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you.

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come.

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning.

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment.

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet.

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his.

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed.

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them.

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg.

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing.

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs.

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend.

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go.

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that.

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them.

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing.

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister.

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other.

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one.

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down.

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall.

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it.

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about.

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules.

You keep Jackson moving.

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms.

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises.

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule.

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans.

“Maria gets to go on patrol.”

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls.

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two.

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work.

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son.

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work.

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing.

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists.

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.”

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.”

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated.

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother.

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone.

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs.

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to.

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.)

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks.

It’s all exactly how it should be.

Until she frowns.

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol.

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow.

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.”

Odd.

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent.

It’s a look of pity.

As if she feels bad for even asking.

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind.

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one.

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed.

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different.

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy.

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light.

God, you're tired.

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday.

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment.

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams.

It works.

Your dreams never feature him.

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays.

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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fastboatsmojito · 6 months ago

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GUESS - Chef Luca x reader one-shot - 18+

| AN; non-physically descript reader, no pronouns used but fem aligned. Based almost solely on “Guess” by Charli xcx, it’ll make sense later, I promise. This is essentially my first anything ever so I’m still trying to figure out my writing style 🙏🏼 enjoy. <3

| Wc: 4.2k

| CWs: Smut BTC, SLOW smut like so much teasing I’m SORRY, fingering, cunnilingus, eventual pnv, Good amount of Sub Luca oops <33 No use of y/n, lingerie??? No condom mention SORRY, Blindfolds, Luca almost crying - in a good way ! The L word, Mention of hand restraint, Kissing, Pet name usage probably; baby, bunny (for Luca), love, sweet boy (also for Luca), etc. Some religious metaphors sorry

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

You’ve been distracted all day, work beginning and ending in a distant fog. Usually you had no problem indulging in the fast-paced environment, focusing solely on your work and the insistent voice of whoever was running expo for the day.

Today couldn’t have been more different. The work in front of you being drowned out by mental pictures of the man waiting for you at home.

Your mind was full of him. His words. His hands. It was all his fault.

—-

You had woken up that morning to the boyfriend you were still getting used to sleeping next to everyday. It was new but comfortable. You didn’t feel the need to change practically anything about your nightly routine once he moved in.

Luca isn’t a judgmental guy, It’s one of your most adored attributes of his. Which just so happened to include your ‘pajamas’ a term you used rather loosely, draped in a baggy t-shirt and whatever plain comfy underwear called your name that night.

He loved every second of it, and so did you.

You were rushing to get ready as Luca was quietly helping you. His internal clock denying him the pleasure of staying in bed once you were awake. He was grabbing some socks to lay out while you were brushing your teeth, when the question arose.

You leaned your head out of the bathroom door, toothpaste-filled mouth garbling your words. “Sorry?”

“When’d you get this?” Repeated a curious Luca, gleaming at you while gently holding up a forgotten lacy red bra that had been stored at the back of your drawer.

You’d worn it maybe twice, ever. Once trying it on and the other just for yourself, a confidence boosting self-care ritual that had been pushed out of your schedule by work. You couldn’t decide whether to be embarrassed or amused.

“I don’t-“

“Baby, your words.”

Christ. You spat the toothpaste from your mouth before speaking again.

“I don’t remember exactly, it’s been a while.”

He put it back softly, as if it’d shatter if he was too quick. Then walked towards you, leaning in the bathroom doorway.

“I didn’t know you owned something so-“

You finished brushing your teeth and interrupted him.

“Slutty?” You giggled, moving past him to get changed.

“Delicate.”

Delicate? He was driving you insane at six in the morning and he’s barely done anything.

The image of his strong, tattooed hands holding something he’d described himself as ‘delicate’ replaying on a loop in your mind. He moved to sit on the bed next to you as your shoes went on.

“You never asked.”

He laughed softly and took your hand in his as you stood up.

“If you’re nice, maybe I’ll put it on for you tonight.” You smiled and put your arms around his neck.

“Aren’t I always?” He replied, pulling you in to place a soft kiss on your temple.

You caught a glimpse of the clock behind him at that and gave him a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out the door.

———

Once you finally reentered your apartment it was well past 11. Fortunately, it was a Friday night so you weren’t worried about having to wake up early the next morning.

You walked in and almost immediately headed to the shower, just after greeting your peacefully lounging boyfriend. You set up a few things and grabbed one of Luca’s hoodies to throw on after and hopped in.

You came back out to him in the kitchen, heating up what he’d made earlier and put up for you. He sat quietly with you while you ate and waited until you were done to ask about your day.

“‘Was fine, Just been a little distracted.” You replied, slinking down more into your seat while you watched him take your plate to the sink.

“Distracted? By anything in particular?”

He always looked annoyingly sweet with soap on his hands. You got up and leaned against the counter in front of him.

“Just you.”

He dried his hands and placed them on your shoulders, lightly massaging away the tension you held. He leaned down to place a light kiss right under your ear.

“You mind telling me what you were really thinking about, my love, or shall I guess?”

You could melt into him. He always had this effect on you, drawing the desperation out of you like oil in water.

“Can we try something?”

Your nerves apparent through your wavering voice and ambiguity.

He’s guiding your eyes back to his with the slow strokes of his thumb sitting on your cheek. Looking down at you with the same adoring eyes he always does.

“What’d you have in mind, love?”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot about this morning and.. I have a few different colored sets like that-“

His warm hands were slowly moving to the hem of the hoodie you adorned, distracting you just as the thought of them alone had done all day.

He stopped, smirking at how easily you leaned into his touch. “Go on.”

“and- well I was just thinking that maybe I could try them on and let you guess the color.” You said, eyes focusing on the broad shoulders you rested your hands on instead of his own.

“Guess the color? Won’t I be-“ You giggled and shook your head, interrupting him.

“That’s the fun part- I want to blindfold you. If you’re into it, anyway.” You said, finally looking up to meet his eyes. A blend of surprise and curiosity painted on his face.

He moved his hands back to your face, holding your head so he could look at you.

“Jesus darling, I’d let you do anything if you keep looking at me like that.”

You grinned at him, “‘s that a yes?”

He moved closer to you, leaning his forehead against your own. So close you were almost kissing. Almost.

“Yes.”

You barely stopped yourself from jumping him, closing the gap to kiss him, raising bumps on your skin as his hands moved to your jaw to kiss you deeper.

You pulled away to take one of his hands and guide him to your bedroom. You lightly pushed him onto the bed and went to the closet to grab one of his ties.

You walked back to the bed, “Get comfortable, you might be here a while.” You punctuated with a kiss to his nose.

“Oh yeah? You tying my hands up too?”

You climbed up to straddle his waist, tie-yielding hands sitting on his chest.

“‘m not that mean.” You paused and thought about it for a second. “Only if I have to.”

His hands are on your hips, waiting for some direction. Your hands are occupied right above the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He’s nodding his head and you’re lifting up for just a moment to pull it over his head and toss it just next to the laundry basket. Close enough.

You didn’t realize you were staring and not saying anything until he spoke again.

“Liking the view, gorgeous?”

You laughed softly at him and rolled your eyes.

You dragged your hands up and down his chest and shoulders, leaning down to leave light kisses everywhere they went. Slowly drawing dreamy sighs and deep breaths out of him.

You stopped when his grip on your waist was getting tighter, you didn’t plan on teasing him forever but you couldn’t help it. He’s always so patient for you.

You could look at him like this forever. He opened his eyes when he noticed you stopped touching him.

You cupped his face in one hand while the other rested on his waist and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You look so pretty under me like this, sweet boy.”

He groaned and you could tell by the light red brushed over his cheeks and the rather obvious erection under you that he was losing patience quickly.

He said your name like he was asking for something.

“Please, please.”

The hottest man you’d ever seen was under you begging.

You lightly scratched the hair behind his ear and gave him a teasing pout.

“What ‘s it baby, what do you want?”

“You. Please, love, just- just do something or let me touch you.”

Every ounce of admiration and lust in your body prevalent in your eyes and the barely-there movements of your hips against his own.

You grinned down at him and grabbed the tie you left sitting beside him.

“Ready for me to put this on you then?”

He eagerly nodded and you gave him a few kisses before lifting him up a bit and tying it over his eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and gave it a kiss before speaking again.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna explain the rules and change and then we’ll get started. If you want me to stop and take the blindfold off, just let me know. You got it?”

He smiled and nodded his head.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.”

He stuttered a little at the nickname.

“I- I got it.”

Your hands were lightly tracing over his chest.

“Good. I’m going to put on one of three sets; black, red, or blue. And then I’ll come back over and you can feel the different materials and try to guess which color it is. If you get it wrong, I’ll go change again. When you get it right I’ll take the blindfold off. Sound good?”

“And if I take too long?”

You bit your lip and hummed while you thought for a moment.

“Then I’ll tie your hands up and you’ll have to guess with your tongue.”

His grip on your waist tightened once again.

“‘s that all alright with you?”

“Sounds perfect, love.”

You grinned down at him even though he couldn’t see it. You couldn’t be happier to be with someone so open and communicative.

“I’ll be right back.”

You gave the top of his head a quick kiss before getting up to change, grabbing one of the sets you set aside before your shower.

You decided to go with the blue set. The low lighting making specs of glitter dancing over your figure shimmer. If only Luca could see you now.

You walked back to him, tracing over his arm so you didn’t alarm him before climbing back into his lap.

“Can I touch you now?”

“Go ahead, baby. So sweet.”

You guided his hands to your hips. He took his time, light strokes feeling the soft material that hugged your body like it was made just for you.

He could cry. You smelled so good and it was even stronger now that one of his other senses was out of the way. Not to mention how soft your skin felt. He had to keep reminding himself to focus on trying to guess while getting caught up in the cathedral that was your body.

He moved his hands up over your chest, focusing on rubbing your nipples through the fabric. Then back down again, thumbs right at the hem of your already soaked, blue panties.

You let out a soft sigh at that and let his hands move for just a bit longer before you guided them back to your own, interlocking your fingers.

“Time to guess, Luc’.”

He whined like he was the one being tormented.

“Already? But you sound so pretty.”

You giggled at his praise.

“If you want to keep touching me I need you to guess.”

“Okay okay, I think it’s.. black?”

You smile down at him again, empathy found not in your words but your tone.

“Nope!” You gave him a kiss, letting his tongue slip over yours for just a second before pulling away.

“Changing again. Be right back.”

He hummed and you went to grab the second set, going with the silky black set this time. It was soft but thin, you can’t remember ever having worn it.

The glimpse you caught of yourself in the mirror told you to wear it more often.

You walked up to him, tracing one hand over his toned muscles as you climbed up.

He didn’t bother asking this time, too caught up in the warmth above him. He started at your shoulders, tracing down the silky straps and over your chest. He can’t remember a time he was ever so hard and needy for anyone.

His light, slow, focused movements driving you insane while your noises were doing the same to him.

You got caught up in all of it, the way his hands were moving back to grab your ass, how needy he looked, how you were sure he could feel the wet spot you were leaving right on his lap, all of it. You moved one of your hands up his chest over his neck, thumb lightly grazing over his Adam’s apple.

He was grabbing your hips and leaning up to place kisses on your neck when you stopped him.

“Alright, handsy, time to guess.”

He smirked. He could hear your heartbeat from here, quick pulses from his paused touch. He knew you were losing patience right with him.

“I think this one’s.. blue?”

You groaned. There was only one color left now, thank god. If he didn’t get this one you didn’t know if you’d make it.

“Wrong again, bunny.”

You left him with no kiss this time, trying to keep some semblance of self-control.

You grabbed the last and final set; lacy and red. Your personal favorite and the one that started the fire that’d been burning inside of you all day. The memory of his fingers draped over the soft lace replaying in your mind once again.

You walked back up to him, kissing up his stomach and chest before settling down.

“Okay baby, last set.”

He wasted no time, strong hands moving all over you. He was smirking as he felt the lace, he knew what this was. He didn’t want to stop just yet though, one hand moving up to your waist while the other was moving closer and closer to the wet spot he was teasing out of you.

You were letting out the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, his fingers dancing just above your clothed clit when you stopped him.

“Luca, baby, I need you to get it right this time,” You leaned down to whisper right in his ear, “guess.”

He was grinning at your eagerness, composure you were keeping earlier now nowhere to be found.

“Red.”

God. You threaded a hand through his hair and brought him up to kiss you, tongues dancing together messily while your hands urgently moved to take the blindfold off of him.

He cupped your face with both of his hands, taking you away from him so he could finally look at you.

“Fuck me, you look beautiful.” His eyes were moving up and down your body and back to your warming face.

You were the one begging now. “Please, Luca, just touch me.”

He kisses you again, pushing a few strands of hair out of your face. “Whatever you want, gorgeous.”

He was moving his kisses down, kissing over your face, right under your ear, your neck, to your collarbones. One hand leaving your head to trail down to your waist, thumb stroking over the fabric on your hip bone.

You were a mess. Slowly grinding over his thigh, after thinking about this practically all day you could cum just like this.

You were leaving open-mouthed kisses over his neck and shoulders when his hand finally moved where you needed it, leaving soft circles on your clothed clit, tracing his fingers up and down over the wet spot.

You were letting out soft moans now, so close to getting what you need.

You moved your hands lower, grasping at his aching dick through his sweats. Fingers tracing at the waistband,

“Can I take these off?”

“Of course.”

You got up for just a second so he could pull them down and off, throwing them to join his earlier discarded shirt.

You sat back over him, gasping as you felt him through his boxers, only thin layers of fabric separating you.

He knew what you wanted and he needed it just as bad, but after only being able to touch you for so long he wanted to taste you more than anything.

He stopped your movements, grabbing your hips and moving you to lay down on the bed so he could be on top of you.

Mouth open, chest quickly rising up and down with your rushed breaths, he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him.

“My god, you’re perfect.”

“Will you please stop staring at me and do something.”

“I’ll take care of you darling, don’t worry.”

He muttered between kisses, hands cupping your breasts, one of your hands moving back to undo the clasps for him, red lace falling away from you to be discarded next.

“Never get tired of seeing you like this.”

He said, mouth moving down to leave little marks that you’d be seeing in the morning all over your chest. Licking down and over your nipples, large, warm hands following right behind each of his movements.

He kissed down your stomach, stopping every now and then wherever he felt he should leave a mark.

He got to the waistband of your lacy red underwear, hands moving back to grab handfuls of your ass while he kissed over your hips and thighs, smirking into your skin when your breathing got heavier as he got closer to where you wanted him.

He kissed once more on your inner thigh before spreading your legs so he was on his knees between them, one of yours on each side of him. His hands moved back to your waistband, thumbs dipping down into the sides.

He pulled you closer to him and left light kisses over your clothed core, groaning at how wet you are.

“This all for me, baby?” He asked, kissing you again, letting his nose catch over your clit.

You whined at his slow pace.

“Guess.”

He let his tongue peek out for a moment to tease a few moans out of you. Then, he pulled your drenched underwear off of you, another piece added to the pile.

He figured you’d both had enough teasing for tonight, quickly laying down and putting your legs over his shoulders to devour you.

He was moaning into you, tongue lapping at you. One of his hands moving up your thigh to draw slow circles on your clit while the other was guiding your hips to grind further into him.

You couldn’t care less about the sounds you were making but you were sure they were there from the muffled praise between your legs.

“Sound so pretty, love. I got you, just keep making those sweet noises for me.”

God was he good with his mouth. One of your hands was holding his while the other was in his hair, lightly pulling when you wanted a moan out of the man ravishing you.

He moved his tongue up to kiss and lick at your clit while his fingers moved to collect the wetness seeping out of you. You moaned out when he suddenly sunk one of his fingers inside of you, curling it upward, slowly moving it in and out as your eyes closed. You let out a deep sigh you’d been holding since this morning as he worked you up to a second one.

“Shit, Luca- so good, so good for me, bunny. Just like that.”

He was moaning into you and grinding his hips into the bed to try and relieve himself. He could definitely cum like this. Just hearing you praise him like that drove him crazy. He’d pray to you if you asked him to.

His thick fingers were speeding up their strokes, tongue lightly sucking your clit into his mouth, making you gasp. The loud sounds of the slick that was dripping onto the bed warming your face.

“Luca, I’m so close baby, don’t stop.”

He let go of your hand to pull you further into him, your warm thighs surrounding his head.

“Cum for me. Please, make a mess all over my fingers.”

You could barely hear him, so focused on how he felt but the vibrations from his pleading into you along with his warm tongue and the fingers repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you was enough to send you over the edge.

“That’s it, darling, I’ve got you. So perfect for me.”

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Sweetest pussy in the world.”

He worked you through it, slowing down his fingers and taking them out once you were grabbing his wrist, leaving you with a quick soft kiss to your clit before moving back up to his knees.

You let out a breath and opened your eyes to him on his knees in front of you, staring at his drenched fingers. He was just as much a mess as you were if not more, boxers barely containing his hard length, flushed cheeks, still wet nose and mouth.

You couldn’t believe you got to see him like this. Big, strong man being used like a toy and he loved it, begged for it.

You blinked yourself out of your head as he put the fingers that just drew an all-day lingering orgasm out of you and into his mouth.

Jesus Christ.

“Fuck, Luca, come here.”

He sucked his fingers clean and moved towards you, you pulled him in for a kiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He was moaning into your mouth, pleading again

“Please, I need you.”

You kept kissing him, mouths sloppily moving together as you pulled his boxers down, the final piece to the pile. He was trying to kiss you back and failing, breathing and moaning into your mouth instead.

“You want me, bunny?”

“God. Please, please, need it.”

You moved your face into his neck, leaving soft kisses and nibbles there as you finally guided him to your entrance. Grinding against him for a moment to get him nice and lubricated for you.

You moaned into his neck, pushing his head further into your own as you slowly sank down on him. He was big, but you were so worked up from all the teasing and your first orgasm that it was easier to take him.

One of his hands was rubbing at your waist, waiting you for to get comfortable before he started moving while the other was cupping your face, bringing you back to press your foreheads against each other.

Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, too needy to notice, but you did. You waited to move, moving a hand to his face.

“Are you okay, baby, do you want to stop?”

He shook his head quickly and blinked them away,

“No, no I’m okay I just- I love you. ”

You stroked his cheeks with your hands and kissed his nose, then his forehead, and his nose again. He was always so sweet like this, you felt like your heart could burst.

“I love you too.” Another kiss. “So much.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead on your shoulder, slowly starting to move his hips. When you moved your hips with his he started to speed up, whispering praises and promises into your skin, saying your name like a prayer only you could hear.

He knew he’d finish quick after that, moving the hand not supporting himself down to rub soft circles on your still-aching clit.

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time. I’m so close, I want to feel you cum around my dick this time. You got it.”

He whimpered as you clenched down around him, whispering repeated praises into his ear.

“So good for me, so good. Want you to cum for me, bunny.”

“Such a sweet boy.”

He pulled out to cum on your stomach, your warm hand and praises urging him.

He leaned over to the nightstand for some tissues to wipe you off before he laid down on top of you, his face on your chest while you played with his hair.

You gave him a moment, sitting in content silence together before tending to anything else.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, a finger softly tracing over the freckles adorning his nose.

“Im perfect, love.” He kissed your side before moving up to smother your face in them.

He gave one last kiss to your head before getting up to grab a warm towel to clean you off and some glasses of water.

After you were cleaned up and hydrated you grabbed one of Lucas shirts and got up to go to the bathroom. Assessing the marks you’d be seeing for a few days in the mirror as Luca was starting your shower.

“Jesus, look at you.” He said, walking up behind you and placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“All you, baby.”

“Baby? What happened to bunny?” He said, softly laughing and making sure the water temp was just right.

You giggled at that.

“You really like that, don’t you?”

He walked back over to you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss at the marks he left on your neck.

“Guess.” He muttered into your skin, picking you up to get in the shower.

#luca the bear #the bear #chef luca #chef luca x reader #the bear x reader #will poulter #brat summer #hot chef summer ??#the Bear fans pls be my friends #GUESS if this made me insane or not #sweet man with hand tats save me #chef luca smut #calling a huge man bunny #the religious metaphors just happened idk #sub luca !!!!#bunny bunny bunny #GUESS GUESS GUESS #smut #🌑 one-shots

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pressureplus · 6 months ago

Note

Ok ok hear me out.. what if, you did a part two of “Reflection” but the reader finally gets to read Sebastian’s document? And kinda sees how similar they look. It’s kinda dumb because it wouldn’t really much to write about but it’s just a thought 😭

No no, don't apologize. I can work with anything as long as its got 1 sentence or three descriptive words and a vibe! I can easily make you a part two!

Doppelganger

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟ ◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

At last you purchased that damn document of his. It had sat on his desk almost teasingly out of your hands. A previous attempt to grab it had ended with his hand pressed over the classified file and a smile. His words spoken slow, as though you were stupid, as he explained that you certainly didn’t have enough for that. Now you could finally touch it all you want. A part of you was feeling a bit sassy when you snatched it right off his desk proudly. The thousand data pieces you just sold to him being shuffled away. You ignored that, for the most part, more focused on finally getting your hands around the classified information you’d been curious about. Finally popping open the file to see what it is he’s been leaving on his desk, you’re met with tons of information. A few pictures falling out that you don’t quite manage to catch.

You ignore them, taking a seat in Sebastian’s shop as he moves around the room, shuffling different pieces of paperwork and chips into places. His hands reaching up for the vents above his head and tugging out a few spare pieces of equipment. You can hear him opening the packs her wanders around with, attaching things to the straps around his body. You choose to ignore that for now. Instead choosing to read the file in front of you. Your eyes scan over the first line, catching onto three things at once. His technical experiment name, his codename, and finally his legal name. Your eyes scanned each individual word quietly. The shuffling in the background not particularly drawing any of your attention. There’s that shoot to kill statement you’ve heard a thousand times before. You’re starting to understand why he’s so aggressive. You’d be pretty pissed too if you were an experiment gone wrong, especially if you hadn’t even done the crime you were accused of.

At last you shut the file, eyes being drawn back to the images now laying on the ground. You scoop them both up. In your hands is an image of current Sebastian, larger and aggressive. He looks damn near ready to shoot the camera. On the other image…you. No wait, not you? His jawline is a bit sharper and he’s got a scar on his face but he looks so much like you. Honestly, it’s a bit shaking. A mugshot that isn’t yours but looks so much like you. The more you stare at it the more begins to make sense to you. The dots connecting on why his reaction to your face was so aggressive. Why he tends to almost stare a little too long. You thought it was because he found you ugly, or because he was trying to grieve the death of a loved one. In some ways, you suppose, he is. He’ll never have this face again. He’ll never be able to see himself properly in the mirror and he certainly wasn’t the innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit anymore. How many people had he killed trying to get what was necessary to escape? How human was he anymore, without his face, without his body. Was it human desperation, or animal?

“You never told me you were so pretty.” You joke as Sebastian jolts. It seems he’d gotten so wrapped up in adjusting things that he hadn’t even realized you were still in here. His eyes flick from your face down to your hands. You turn the picture of him around, pointing at it. This only seems to make him mildly uncomfortable as he looks away with a huff.

“Could you not have opened that anywhere else?”

“Sorry…it’s just…you really are handsome.”

“I was, I guess. That was a long time ago now quite obviously.” He slithers closer, scooping up his file and taking the pictures back. He’s careful to push them back into the titled document before shutting it. Then and only then does he hand the folder back to you.

“You still are, maybe you look a little different now, but you’re still very pretty.”

“That’s not a funny thing to joke about.”

“I’m being serious, Sebastian. You’re pretty with or without a human face. Even if this one isn’t really ideal…I still think you look great.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve still got yours intact.”

“If it’s too painful to look at, I can fix that by wearing my helmet all the time? I just want you to be comfortable. I want you to know that even if you’re not human anymore that doesn’t make you…a monster.” He hesitates, the words sinking into his skin. He’s quiet for a good while before sighing. His hand coming up to his face to drag downward, a display of his exhaustion.

“Just…get out. Take your folder, your batteries, and go back to getting that crystal.”

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misserabella · 2 years ago

Note

gonna need an abby version of your ‘sexting ellie williams’ fics bc god am i obsessed with that woman

a/n; you ask and you shall receive

sexting with gf! abby! ♡

pt2

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, drinking (reader is in a party and drunk), description of a video of reader touching herself, abby being as cocky as ever, top! abby, bottom! reader, fingering, praising, oral sex (r receiving), cum eating, making out, allusions of sex with strap…

3:24 AM

abs

abssssss

abbyyyyy

sht abayuyyy

abby groaned as her phone buzzed nonstop, reaching for it and squinting her eyes at the screen’s light. she took a peak at the hour. holy fuck. 3AM?

baby? what the hell? why are you up this late?

partyyyy

u’re at a party rn? bfr

yessss. owen’s

i’m gonna kill him. why did he let you drink this much?

i’m not deinkkk

you’re definitely drunk, doll. i’m gonna go get you, alright? stay put wherever u are and don’t move.

no no lsten, i have something impurtabt to telll u

what is it?

ik i’m drunk rn but in gunna marry you

you’re gonna marry me?

abby was laughing at your texts. yes, she was worried you had been drinking, but you were at owen’s and you were safe. and it was so fucking fun to watch you try and type correctly.

yes

i’m marryin u

even if you r meanb

me? when have i been mean to you baby?

right now?

yeahh, ‘cause tou’re sooooj beautiful

all i fan think about are your lips rn

why r u not heyre?

okay. you’re really drunk, baby, why don’t you wait for me and we talk about this when i get there, hm?

no.

u r gonna take sooooiii long

you’ve pretty eyesX

they look so good when u go down on me

abby’s eyes widened, and her whole body seemed to burn. shit.

yeah? they look good princess?

mmmh

want u

and you’re so far away rn it’s nor fair

that was a fucking lie. abby was already on the road to get there. shit. she loved it when you went all needy on her. and when you were drunk? you had no filter. always screaming and moaning so loud she sometimes would have to muzzle you to not have the neighbors knocking on her door.

oh baby, why don’t you come here and sit on my face? my tongue will say sorry for me

your cheeks flushed, and your cunt throbbed. you loved it when she’d make you sit on her face, her tongue unrelenting on fucking you over and over again until you wouldn’t cum anymore. you needed her. and you needed her right now. the bathroom you had gone in felt suddenly too hot and your panties too sticky. you hissed when your fingers pushed in them, feeling just how wet you had become for her. you couldn’t help but plunge a finger inside your tight hole. of course, your fingers weren’t as near as largue and thick as abby’s, but you needed something until she’d get there and do it for you.

csn i tell u s secret?

ofc princess, what is it?

i’m fucking my pussy rn

jesus christ. abby almost hit the breaks. almost crashed when you send her a video of —now— two of your fingers fucking inside your tight and squelching walls. she could hear your little whimpers and pants.

couldnt wair abymore

i need you so bad abby pkease

shit. writing with only one hand and drunk wasn’t that easy. you were whimpering and moaning as you fingered yourself on the bathroom of owen’s party. you thanked god the music was loud enough to muffle your sounds, ‘cause you surely couldn’t swallow them back inside.

abby was exceeding the speed limit to get there, practically parking on top of owen’s lawn as she jumped out of the car, running towards the house.

where.

bathroom

she didn’t even say hi to owen as she passed right through him, her blood boiling as she ran upstairs and swung the door open. you hadn’t even locked it. fucking hell.

abby almost went down on her knees when she saw you sitting on the toilet’s lid with a hand buried in between your thighs and your phone on the other, your chat open and showing on the screen. your senses came back to you as you heard the lock turning, and you moaned when you saw her.

did i say almost? abby had never been quicker to kneel down, her strong arms pushing your legs on top of her shoulders to move your hand away and, after cleaning up your fingers with her tongue, hurriedly burying her face in your cunt. your back arched, and you let out a scream that made her groan, lapping at your juices. you were so fucking wet…

“fuck, abby!” you cried out when she plunged her own fingers deep inside your cunt, easily finding your g spot.

she cooed. “my princess was just feeling needy. weren’t you, baby? poor thing. so horny for me couldn’t wait until i could get here. sending me a video of touching your tight little cunt just to tease me, didn’t you?” you whimpered, bucking your hips against her touch, your back arching.

“please abby… your mouth.” you begged.

“you want my mouth baby? want me to eat this soaked pretty pussy of yours?” you nodded, pleading for it, and she followed, her tongue meeting your clit and making you moan. “so fucking loud…” she groaned, starting to devour you to get out of you more or those pleasured sounds. she was starving. and you were falling apart, melting under her tongue.

“abby!” you screamed when her tongue fucked inside of you, her arms tugging from you to get closer, her nose nudging your clit. the alcohol made you feel dizzy, and the pleasure only seemed to grow and grow. you could feel it shocking through your body, her grunts making your body gave into her. you needed her.

“fuck, you look so fucking beautiful. need you bouncing on my cock baby.” you whimpered, nodding.

“yes please, abby, please, need you to fuck me.” you were a babbling mess, her tongue teasing you and making you squirm. she adored making you tremble, seeing you get more and more desperate for her to make you cum.

“yeah? need me to fuck you sweet girl? need me to to fuck your brains out?” you nodded, moaning, your chest heaving harshly, your thighs shaking at the sides of her head, your back arched when her fingers, three this time, plunged inside of you, abusing your g spot and making you see stars. “i will princess. but first you’re gonna cum on my tongue, isn’t that right?” your hands found her hair, tugging when she sucked down on your sensitive and puffy clit. “yeah, of course you are. you are squeezing my fingers so tight, fuck… you always take them so well baby. such a fucking good girl for me. can’t wait to see you taking my cock.“ you could feel the warmth on your stomach grow and grow.

“abby, i’m gonna…! i’m cumming!” you cried out, and she only fingered you faster, harder. it was imposible to describe. this feeling. her.

“go ahead baby, let me clean you all up.” she smirked, and with a last thrust and lick at your clit you were falling apart, making her groan when you pushed her face harder against your gushing cunt. you whited out.

she helped you ride it as your moans broke, your hips stuttering and your creamy white and salt cum painted her fingers. she moaned against you, cleaning it with her tongue and humming at the taste. there was nothing she loved more than giving you head.

once you’d calmed down and your breathing had evened out, she pulled her fingers out to push them inside her mouth. you whined as you watched her, with lips swollen and chin soaked in your juices.

“let’s get out of here.” she said, and you nodded, not before kissing her so deeply you left her as drunk and dizzy as you felt.

yeah. she was definitely gonna marry you.

….

LORD. that was filthy asf. i’m sorry… or nah.🤭

hope you enjoyed. remember to support your writers! <3

abby anderson masterlist! <3

xxx

#dan! writes ♱#abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x you #abby anderson x fem! reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #tlou fic #tlou smut #tlou fluff

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itoshiexx · 2 years ago

Text

mi vida

synopsis: sae never thought someone could become his life, but that changed when you came.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 749 | warnings: established relationship, fluff

notes: welcome back to "things i wrote on a whim when my boss wasn't at the office"!! apparently i write a lot better in english without much planning, so yeah. this idea came to me based on a personal experience, since i call my boyfriend "minha vida" (which is the same for "mi vida"/"my life" in portuguese) and i never really thought i could consider someone to be my life before him.

i really really hope you like it, and i wanna thank you all so much for all the love you've given to Unworthy (but chosen), every note and follower made me super happy! <3

and also, i'm so sorry if my description of the spanish culture is not accurate and for any english mistakes!

during his time in spain, sae learned a lot of things. mainly, how to improve his soccer career even more, striving to become the best in the world after already being the best in his country.

he was a genius, of course, so it wasn’t really hard to learn the language or get acquainted with the city of madrid, which was a lot warmer than japan — in many ways. however, it was really fucking hard to get used to the customs of the spanish people and its culture, considering it was so different from the japanese. they were extremely welcome, and sae was anything but. if anything, he was even more closed than typical japanese people.

in spain, people were always greeting each other with a kiss on each cheek, showing off bright smiles and making conversation with strangers. friends talked loudly among each other, giving hugs and always touching somehow. the concept of personal space? totally nonexistent. in short, it was weird.

but nothing was weirder than couples.

the concept of love was already foreign to sae. he didn’t understand how a feeling could envelop one so much and make it forget about the rest of the world. he didn’t know how such an abstract thing, with no sense of logic whatsoever, could be so overwhelming to the point of taking one’s life completely, until all you could see, think and feel was your significant other.

most of all, he couldn’t fathom how someone could become your life.

“te amo, mi vida,” was what he used to hear an old couple say to each other. they were the owners of sae’s favorite restaurant, a small little place in the suburbs of Madrid, and always treated him with a kindness he didn’t deemed himself worthy of.

at first, he wasn’t able to comprehend what the sentence meant. he could barely write it on google translate to try to get its meaning, and he didn’t really care enough. though, as the time went by and sae became more fond of the couple, he eventually gathered the courage to ask the woman about it. and he was very surprised to hear the answer.

“it means ‘i love you, my life’,” she said, smiling from ear to ear and handing a glass of salted kombucha tea to sae. it was one of the reasons he adored the place so much — it was the only restaurant he found that served his favorite drink.

the older itoshi could only stare, dumbfounded, and mumble, “…why?”

the woman laughed at the boy’s naiveté. “why, you ask? because that’s what he is to me.”

sae only stared in silence, too stunned to speak.

“i… i don’t understand,” he confessed. it sounded silly, and kind of pathetic, but at that moment he didn’t really care. the woman gave another smile, this time an understanding countenance, and placed her wrinkly hand on his shoulder.

“you will understand one day, boy. and when your person comes, make sure to bring them here, right? i’d like to meet them!”

the soccer player wanted to tell her that it would never happen. that the itoshi sae had no time for foolish things like love, and he most certainly would never love someone so much to the point of seeing them as his life. his life was soccer, and his goal was to become the best in the world.

there was nothing else.

oh, how he bit his tongue.

it was at the age of twenty two when he entered the restaurant once again, and this time, not alone. you were walking by his side, with your hand intertwined in his, chatting excitedly while he just listened. a small smile was on his face, and his features were impossibly soft, in a way they only got around you.

you, who were light in the darkness, who were comfort after a long day of practice, who was the one he loved most. you, who was the definition of home in every sense of the word. the only one that could make his heart swell so much it made it hard to breathe.

he pulled your chair for you to sit like a true gentleman, and sat right next to you, always in need to touch you somehow. a hand was placed on your thigh while the other one opened the menu. and he turned to you, voice gentle like you could break:

“so, what would you like, mi vida?”

you, who was his life.

#bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fluff #blue lock #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock sae #sae x reader #sae fluff

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m1ckeyb3rry · 8 months ago

Note

Hiya hiya! Once again congratulations on 500! I was wondering if I could request a fic with Isagi and handholding! Idk hand holding sounds very romantic so I would love to see how you’ll write it!

── PATHWAYS

Synopsis: You go on a walk with your boyfriend while he’s on a break from the intense training of Blue Lock.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warnings: fluff, isagi is lowkey a simp, slight rin and nagi slander (i love them though i promise)

A/N: EEK i’m sorry this took me a sec anon!! i’ve never written for isagi before so this was def smth new which is why it took me a bit to get in the right headspace. i hope it’s okay for you <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It was colder outside than you had expected. Isagi, who was wearing a coat and had a scarf wrapped around his neck, didn’t seem bothered by the temperature, but as for you, you were miserably trying to hide your shivers, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself to disguise it. He had told you that it was chilly, and you had ignored his warning, so it was now your burden to bear.

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” Isagi said, white clouds forming in the air from the heat of his breath. “I missed you a lot the entire time I was there.”

“I missed you, too,” you said. “I know we were able to talk a few times on your one friend’s phone, but it wasn’t the same.”

Isagi wrinkled his nose. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get my own back. I really tried my best. I wanted to talk to you as much as I could, to make up for our physical distance.”

“It’s okay. The fact that you were willing to take care of all of your teammate’s sweaty, gross laundry just to get the chance to call me for a couple of minutes means more to me than anything,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked along the side of the dirt path connecting your house to the nearest park.

“That was definitely a sacrifice,” he said, gagging from just the memory. “I’d do it again for you, but it was really horrible, Y/N. It’s bad enough dealing with my own clothes after matches, but adding Nagi’s to the mix…it was brutal, to say the least.”

“My poor boyfriend,” you said. “I’m so lucky to have someone who’s willing to endure so much for me. I must’ve been a really good person in my last life.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “To be honest, I was kind of scared you’d find someone else while I was gone. It would only make sense, right? How could a girl as beautiful as you not have a million other options? It would be pretty easy for you to forget about me and move on.”

“Would you forget about me and move on if the roles were reversed?” you said, your teeth chattering. Isagi’s eyebrows shot up, almost disappearing behind his dark hair.

“No way!” he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it around your shoulders. “I’d never, ever do that. I still can’t believe I’m dating you at all!”

“You’re so goofy,” you said. “Hey, don’t give me this. Won’t you get cold?”

“Nah, I’m tough. What kind of number-one striker gets defeated by some wind?” he said. You hummed appreciatively, zipping up the large jacket and rejoicing in the warmth it instantly provided you with.

“Number-one striker, and the hero of Blue Lock, I’m told,” you said. His cheeks turned pink.

“That, too,” he said.

“It’s all everyone at school talks about. One day, you just randomly disappeared, and no one but me knew where you had gone. Then suddenly, you were on TV, making the winning goal in one of the most exciting matches of soccer any of us had ever seen! I feel like the girlfriend of a celebrity,” you said.

“You should get used to it,” he said. “I’m only going to get better from here. I’ll be a World Cup winner next, and since you’re stuck with me, you’re going to have to deal with everything that that entails.”

“Stuck with you?” you said. He reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly, holding up your interlaced fingers so that he could admire them.

“Do you see your hand?” he said, very seriously.

“I see it,” you said.

“And you see mine?” he continued.

“Mhm,” you said. As always, his were warm, compared to the iciness of your extremities. He liked to joke that it meant the two of you were made for each other, only able to reach the perfect temperature when you were together.

“That’s us,” he said. “We’re going to be like that forever.”

“Goofy and cheesy? What a lethal combination,” you said, shaking your head.

His palm was callused and rough against yours, a proof of how hard he worked. He was always like that, you had noticed even upon first meeting him, always doing the best he could in any given situation, making up for any disadvantages with the sheer force of his will alone. It was nice to have that tangible reminder of who he was pressed against you, so you made no move to let go of his hand even after his little demonstration had concluded.

“I know,” he said. “And my jokes are really bad. But you like that about me, right?”

“I do,” you said. “Your jokes aren’t terrible, though. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“They make you laugh, so I guess they can’t be that bad,” he said. “Although everyone in Blue Lock hated them. One time, my friend Bachira threw a shoe at me for being unfunny, and Rin Itoshi called me a lukewarm NPC for trying to cheer him up with a pun.”

“If anyone is an NPC, it’s him, just for unironically calling someone that,” you said. “They just don’t understand you, Isagi. It’s okay; true art is never appreciated by the masses.”

“That’s right. As long as you’re happy, I don’t mind if they detest me,” he said. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Should we get sour gummies at the convenience store? It’s been forever since I had some,” he said, his entire face turning red. It was funny — he would declare his love to you in the most cliched of ways and entirely on a whim, but if you ever reciprocated, he would shut down entirely. Like he said, he really still couldn’t believe that you both were actually together, that in fact you had been together for months now, and so he often acted like a little kid with his first crush whenever he was around you.

“Sounds like a good idea. I’ve been craving some myself,” you said.

“Okay! Let’s go. I’ll race you!” he said, taking off at a run, though contrary to his challenging words, he pulled you along, careful to keep your hands connected as you giggled and stumbled after him.

You had missed him, so much more than you could ever verbalize. You had spent every day that he was gone thinking about him, his spontaneity, his wide smile and his kindness, the gentle way he always spoke to you, how easily taking care of you came to him.

Running towards the convenience store alongside him, you held onto his hand tightly, as much for balance as because you couldn’t imagine letting go.

#isagi x reader #isagi x y/n #isagi x you #isagi yoichi #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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pit-and-the-pen · 8 months ago

Text

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 4

A/n: So I’m pivoting a little bit with this series. In the last chapter, I had reader with Rhys a lot and I’m fighting the urge to rewrite it, but from here on out it’s going to be a lot more of the inner circle stuff while Rhys and Feyre are doing their own thing. I didn’t like how much I relied on the dialogue straight from the book for chapter 3 so hopefully this makes it a little better to write and more interesting to read!

Strap in because a lot happens in this chapter. Also this is mostly unedited because my brain in soup at this point.

Warnings: Cannon level description of violence, blood, brief mention of trauma (Rhys and Readers history with Tamlin), suggestive thoughts/language (as always let me know if I missed anything)

WC:19k

Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1][chapter 2][chapter 3]

NExt chapter [Here]

“I don’t get why I wasn’t invited.” Cassian whined, leaning back in the wide backed chair. I knocked his feet from their place on the coffee table and he stumbled as the legs of the chair touched the ground.

“Because last time you were there you fucked someone’s wife and destroyed their house in your attempt to get away.”

“In my defense, she didn’t tell me she was married.” He grumbled out, crossing his arms like the petulant child he was.

“Try telling that to her husband.” I continued to tease him.

“I did.”

“Children, children.” Mor chided Cassian and I. A bored wave of her hand causing Cassian to turn his attention to her instead. I smiled widely as the two of them started going back and forth.

Eventually Rhys and Azriel came to collect Cassian.

“Sorry, boys night.” My brother said, shooting me a wink when I tried to argue. “Don’t pout at me.”

“They’re just afraid they’d lose their ass if they let us play.” Mor returned, all of the males sputtering out a chorus of protests.

True to their word, they didn’t let Mor or myself join them. Going as far as to lock the door to Rhys’ study. Their loud shouts could be heard from where Mor and I sat together down the hall.

Mor was swiping the second layer of a silver and black sparkle nail polish on my hand.

“Are you nervous about going to summer?” She asked casually.

“Hardly.” Even I wasn’t convinced by my words. Mor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “Fine. I’m just worried we won’t get the book. We’ve only tested this theory of Feyre’s powers once and that was Rhys’ magic.”

“You think the bond could let her sense it.” I nodded.

“It’s not impossible. Even if she hasn’t accepted it. She could be inherently drawn to things that have ties to him. I just have to hope my brother is right.” I stopped talking to start blowing my nails dry. Shaking them slightly while I did so. Mor turned to her own nails, brushing a blood red polish over them.

The summer court was just as beautiful as I remember it. I was immediately greeted by the smell of sea salt, even the sunshine smelt different. The humidity in the air laced it with something I could not put my finger on but warmed every part of my body. My skin felt instantly sticky, suddenly very grateful for the flowing white halter dress I had picked for myself that morning.

Even though it was early in the morning, the city below the palace was already teeming with life. Merchant carrying various baskets full of goods, ships sailing in and out of the docks. The rope bridges swayed slightly in the breeze as people flurried about.

We had winnowed right in front of the palace. The purple and green sea glass doors opened at our arrival. It had been at least a century since the last time I visited this place, enough time that I was in awe of the scene in front of me. As much as I loved my home Velaris, there was something about the lightness of this palace that called to me. The full walls of sea glass and shells embedded into the floor, covered with some shiny surface that didn’t make it painful to walk on.Light chiffon fabric in pastel purples, seafoam green, baby pinks, and, buttery yellows adorned the chairs and curtains. The sun that shone through the glass walls tinted with all the colors around us. I was still gawking when Tarquin approached us. The time since he came back had been kind to him. His dark skin more bronzed and his long white hair was braided and adorned with various shells, he was heart stoppingly handsome.The power of a high lord circled him, but unlike Rhys, it carried a certain warmth to it. An aura of safety and security. I swore the water flowing from the fountains around us bubbled harder at his arrival.

“Welcome. I see you like the changes I’ve made” He winked at me, eyes still flickering about.

“I believe you’ve met before, although not since your…promotion.” Tarquin eyed Amren before he gave her a polite bow. Amren bit back a greeting that reminded me of what others saw us as. Cold and calculating.

“And you two were never formally introduced under the mountain. Feyre, Tarquin.” Tarquin’s face set into a tight line as his eyes swept over the revealing dress Feyre was wearing. Even more see-through with the sunlight in the room. Rhys let out a lewd comment and Feyre returned her own before I could even think to grimace.

Another's presence in the room had me looking over Tarquins shoulder. I tried to keep my face even as I spotted Cresseida. The female and I had grown closer than anyone else in the court during my last visit. She shot me a wicked smile before Tarquin introduced her, a claiming hand resting on her shoulder. My eyebrow raised to her and she shrugged her shoulders. A promise of explaining later in her dark brown eyes. Varian was next to be introduced. As captain of Tarquins guard, I did not fault him for the way he sized all of us up, especially Amren.

Our group followed Tarquin through the hallways of the palace. Rhys and the High Lord making polite small talk. Cressida and I walked in step together.

The room Tarquin led us to was just as beautiful as the rest of the palace. High ceilings speckled with those same pastel colors, a wide open window showcasing the vibrant water of the sea, so rich in color it appeared almost teal. Feyre gravitated towards the window, like her feet were working on their own. The Summer High Lord approached her side and I tried to keep up with their hushed conversation. Rhys took a seat at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for me to do the same. Rolling my eyes as the others approached, I grabbed Cressida’s arm and led her to a set of couches a bit away from the others. “We’ll leave all the important talk to the high lords and generals.” I said, sinking into that vapid facade I carried when I wasn’t expected to be Rhys’ terrifying counterpart. He gave me a bored look of dismissal.

“You must tell me everything.” I nearly squealed at Cressida, loud enough for the others to hear.

“There isn’t much to tell, Tarquin is adjusting to being High Lord quite well. However, suddenly it was…He’s a good change from before.” So not interested in her advances then. Her eyes flickered over to the table where the rest sat.

“Are you not in contact with Tamlin then, Feyre?” The question was laced with challenge and accusations. The idea that she was in not one but two high lords beds a grave insult.

“My relationship with the High Lord of spring is none of your concern.” She bit back, the perfect edge of regal and warning in her voice.

“Good, I’d hate to have to return you to your master.” Even from across the room I saw Amren go deathly still. I gave Cressida a small tap on her shoulder, a playful move that warned her to hold her tongue. She gave me a withering glare as Tarquin reprimanded her for her words.

She turned back to me, mouth opening to continue our conversation as Rhys spoke. If I hear word that she or anyone else sends news of our being here to Tamlin, your lives will be forfeit. I heard the tone of promise. The air growing deathly still as his words registered to the High Lord.I took a deep sip of my wine as feyre whispered out something that had Tarquin laughing. The room seemed to take a collective sigh at the sound. Tarquin was a good change indeed. Cressida sank back into her chair as she looked me over.

“You look well.” She said once the conversation in the room resumed. I nodded, setting down my glass on the table beside me.

“Fresh air will do that to a person.” My not so subtle reminder to her that she had not been under the mountain. She gave a small hum. “It seems the court has recovered nicely.”

It was her turn to grow tense. “It was not without hard work, as I’m sure you can relate to. Having a sudden change in high lord and losing half our population has not made it easy to rebuild, but we’ve managed this far.” She sighed, looking at Tarquin who was now laughing with Rhys. “He has made things easier. Gave my brother and I much more control over the efforts than the previous High lord would have.” I took in her words, the tension in her shoulders and heard the tone of someone who had sacrificed a great deal for her court. Something I very much understood. I felt shame rise in my throat at my earlier comments. She might not have been under the mountain but she, and many others in Prythian, had suffered just as much because of it. I’d imagine it would be impossible to find someone who was not affected.

“Enough about me though, tell me how’ve you been?” Her tone switched back to one of light gossip. I took a deep sip of my wine as I gave her a half-true recounting of the last few months.

Cressida walked me back to my room, pointing out things around the palace while doing so. Explaining the bits of work that were still in planning. She gestured to my room and said her goodbyes, promising to find me at the party tonight.

I let out a heavy sigh as the door closed behind me. I had forgotten how exhausting court politics was. How heavy the role Rhys and I played was. Instead of lingering on that, I quickly changed into my clothes for tonight. A flowy dress that mimicked the fashion of the court but with Night Court colors. Silvers and midnight blues, silver chains fastening the dress around my neck. I left the tiara I would pin in my hair on the edge of my bed as I walked out onto the balcony attached to my room. I stared out at the crashing waves, sitting in the sound that they brought with them. The tide was coming in stronger now that it was mid-afternoon. On the horizon I saw the colorful sails of merchant and travel ships bobbing on the water. I leaned against the railing, letting myself become almost hypnotized by the motion of the water around me. I don’t know how long I stayed staring out at the water but Rhys knocking at my door told me it had been at least a few hours. Rhys walked up to my side, leaning against the railing.

“It's definitely a nice view.” He says, snapping me out of my trance. I only nod.

“I wish we didn't have to do this.”

“Which part?”

“I don’t know all of it. The sneaking and the games. I just wish it could change.” I said, voice barely above a whisper. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

“It will be. Once this war is over. That’s what we're fighting for.” He gave a little squeeze before I sighed heavily.

“I hope that’s how the others see it.” He nodded and I pulled away from his side. Walking back into the room. I picked up my tiara and slid it into my hair. I adjusted my makeup in the mirror on the vanity. Looking at Rhys I gave a dramatic twirl.

“How do I look?” He rolled his eyes at the question.

“Every bit the Night Court princess. Now will you please hurry up, we’re already late enough.” I stuck my tongue out at him as we walked out of the room.

The ship was beautiful. It could fit double the amount of Fae than it was currently holding. Feyre, Rhys and Amren stayed close together while I mingled amongst those who would actually talk to me. Cressida found me at some point in the night, pushing a glass of wine into my hand. I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between her and Mor. Making me wonder just what sat behind her own mask. We got along fine but years of not speaking had made our friendship dissolve. Rhys made his way over to Cressida and I, giving Feyre space to talk to Tarquin. He tried to play the aloof High Lord but I saw the way his eyes kept floating over to Feyre, the way his shoulders stiffened at every smile Tarquin gave her. Cressida must have sensed the tension too because she leaned across the table to reach for my brother's hand, purposefully leaning over to expose her cleavage to him. I tried not to roll my eyes at her attempt to get his attention.

He gave her a sleepy smile and pointed to the seat next to him. She gave Feyre a lingering glance before she stood up and all but climbed into his lap. I didn’t hold back my eyeroll this time. She shot me a wide grin. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked in a coy voice.

“By all means, don’t let me stop you. But you should be asking him.” She pouted at my brother who nodded his head, his hand drifting to the small of her back. I downed the rest of my wine before standing up to get more. I had no interest in seeing him lean down to whisper in his ear. I noticed Feyre spared a glance our way, quickly looking back to Tarquin when she spotted Cressida’s new seat. Before I knew it, Feyre was on her feet. Walking away to a less crowded spot on the ship, leaving a very confused looking Tarquin behind her. Taking the opportunity, I joined him at the table.

“I hope I didn’t upset her.” He joked when I sat down beside him.

“She can be a little…touchy where my brother is concerned. Pay no mind.” I waved my hand to punctuate my words. Tarquin just took a deep sip of his wine.

We made light conversation, asking each other about our courts and each only giving as much information as was polite. My eyes tracked Rhys movements as Cressida pulled him from his seat and across the deck of the ship. A deep laugh came from the High Lord’s chest.

“You’re not interested then?” I pointed my hand at the retreating couple, still holding my wine glass, Another laugh from Tarquin.

“Mother no, did no one tell you she’s my cousin.”

“Oh…” He gave me a smirk.

“And besides, princess. I am still young and rebuilding my court. All of that,” he waved towards the direction Cressida had pulled my brother, “can wait until after. That doesn’t mean that anyone in my court isn’t free fuck whoever they decide.” I almost shot wine from my nose at how hard I laughed, choosing an inopportune time to take a deep sip from my cup. I sputtered out an “I’m sorry.” between coughs. He handed me a handkerchief to wipe my mouth. “I truly wasn’t not expecting you to say that. Please don’t think I was laughing at you.”

“Never.” His voice suddenly became more serious than before.

“Now what about you? No one has caught your eye?”

“I dare you to try with a brother like mine.” It felt wrong to so crassly talk about Rhys. LIke he was the one stopping me from what I wanted.

“But there’s someone?” He pried. I shook my head.

“No one that would see me that way.” It wasn’t a lie by any means. He didn’t have to know exactly why.

“Do they happen to be blind?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “That would be the only reason I think of for someone not seeing you that way.” I didn’t fake the blush that rose on my cheeks.

“You flatter me. But no, just… I don’t know.” I said in a tone almost boarding on a whine. He laughed again, a sound I realized I liked. We sat and talked until the sun colored the water a deep purple. I looked out at the view, once again falling into a trance as I stared out at the waves.

“Shall I walk you back to your room?” Tarquin asked, pulling my eyes back to him. I wanted to say no. But the role I played required I saw yes. So I nodded, letting him guide me by my hand back around the palace. I was nervous as we approached my door, not knowing fully what he expected out of me. Especially not knowing exactly where Cressida had pulled Rhys to. I felt panic starting to rise in my throat until he cleared his throat.

We were outside my door and the panic I felt must have been written across my face.

“Don’t look so disappointed. But I was not walking you back for that.” I felt my shoulders relax and a blush settle on the tips of my ears.

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t be. I like my partners more than willing.Enthusiastic if you will.” I laughed, which made him laugh in return.

“Good night.” I whispered to him

“Good night.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned and walked off down the hallway.

I had nothing to do until Feyre went to look for the book. And I truly had no desire to sit and gossip with Cressida after the heated looks she had been giving my brother. So I simply stayed in my room, listening to the sounds of the ocean. I tried to think of how much the rest of my family would love it here. How much they had loved it here. I lightly chuckled to myself as I remember Cassian's face as Mor winnowed him out of the court last time we had visited. It took days of debate and many apologies before the previous High Lord rescinded the blood ruby he threatened to send after Cassian. Mor looked absolutely gorgeous with some sun on her skin, although Azriel held onto it longer much to her chagrin. I curled my knees up to my chest at the thought of Azriel. It felt almost selfish for how little I had thought about him since I’d been here. Regardless of the fact that I had no reason to feel bad, a small twinge of shame pushed its way through me. A hand rising to the center of my chest to massage the discomfort away.

Rhys didn't come to collect me until dinner. He was curt as he announced that the rest were waiting for me, not waiting for my reply before he was leaving the room again. I rushed after to catch up with him. Feyre must have done her job well if my brother was wound this tight.

“Anything on your mind, brother?” I asked in a sweet voice, purposefully teasing him.

“Don’t you start with me too.” So Feyre must have already talked to him. Good. Maybe he’ll finally use this to tell the poor girl. “Stop trying to meddle.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I just want to get this damned book and go back home.”

“I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Rhys.” I patted him on the back and nearly started running down the hall, suddenly very hungry.

The days passed by slowly. As Rhys’ advisor, I was now expected to attend the various meetings Rhys had with the summer courts own advisors. I wished we could have left Amren out of these meetings, but as his second, she attended every one of them. Her presence set the others on edge, making any and all discussions freeze at random moments because she so much as shifted her body weight.

It wasn’t until dinner the night after that Feyre almost gave herself away. One too many questions asked about the little temple in the middle of the tide. Tarquin brushed off her questions with ease but I saw the way his eyes lingered on her longer than normal, like he was sizing her up for the first time. If I blinked I would have missed it, that slight fog in his eyes. A fog that only appeared for a moment before sea green eyes were revealed once again. I shot my eyes to Rhys who shook his head. Not him then. Meaning Feyre must have been able to do that. I was both very impressed and oh so horrified.

“I can carry you both and then keep watch” Rhys layed out the plan. Amren looked over to me.

“And her?”

“Someone has to keep the High Lord distracted.” I grinned at her

“What a hard job to do.” She bit back at me, baring her teeth at me. I fought back the urge to do the same.

“It’s a necessary job. Unless you want to risk Tarquin sniffing us out.” She didn’t have a response for him. “Good. Do you think you can do it?” He turned to face me and I nodded. From there we planned the rest of the details.

The day dragged by. Tarquin, by Feyre’s suggestion, had taken her to the mainland to show her the rest of the court. That left Amren, Rhys and myself free to make some final conversation with the court advisors. Simple things like trade and training of soldiers felt wrong to discuss with a greater war on the horizon, felt too mundane.

Evening came around eventually. Tarquin all but deposited Feyre into Rhys’ outstretched arms. He gave her a salacious smile that I wasn’t sure was entirely fake. But gave the right impression of just exactly why I was so eager to leave the palace.

Tarquin and I walked through the city where he took me to a small bistro. The staff all smiled at him as we approached the open air restaurant. It was quaint, reminding me of something you would find in Velaris. The casual exchange between the owner and Tarquin felt very familiar. I smiled at the couple as they personally sat Tarquin and I. The restaurant had no menu, instead the meal was based on whatever the ships brought in that day and the catch of the day seemed to be crab. They brought out steaming plates and I could only stare at it.

“I must admit, I’ve never tried crab before.” I picked up one of the legs in front of me, taking note of the hard shell. Tarquin smiled at me.

“Apologies, I didn’t consider that.” He gestured for the piece I was holding and I handed it over to him. “You have to crack this open” A simple twist of his hands and the shell popped loudly. “And then you can pull out the meat.” Picking up a tiny fork, he pulled the entirety of the meat out in a clean piece. I gave him a small clap. He laughed and handed me another piece.

“You try.” I earned my own clap from him as I copied his motions. It took me a few tries to scoop everything out but I got there in the end.

“I’lll just have to practice more.” I winked at him and he gave me a soft smile.

“If it gives you an excuse to come back here, be my guest.” I let the comment float between us. We ate until he had to wave off the shop owners. A small argument between the three of them as they tried to insist he didn’t need to pay. Tarquin dropped a bag of gold on the table when their backs were turned and all but pushed me out of the restaurant before they could notice. The action was so unlike any other high lord I had seen that I couldn’t help the giggle that left me.

He had grabbed my hand in his sometime during our walk back through the city. Not paying attention to the way I led him to the stretch of beach on the other side of the palace, on the opposite side of where Feyre and Amren were currently trying to grab the book from. The only sound between us was the crashing waves.

“Sunlight looks good on you.” Tarquin winked at me as we walked down the beach. Breaking the comfortable silence. The red that tinted my cheeks had nothing to do with the fleeting sunlight.

“I’m afraid I might become the same color of that crab if I stayed too long,” I joked back.

“You’d adjust… If you ever wanted to, that is.” His tone was light but I could sense the truth behind those words.

“You’d do well to remember not to be fooled by a pretty face.” I returned with that same tone. He shook his head.

“I was under the mountain too. Everyone heard the way you would stand up to her. The way you suffered so others wouldn’t.” His words startled me. I never acted that way to get attention. I told him as much. “And that’s why I know you’re more than a pretty face. You did all of it without thinking. Regardless of what you might show others, I know you and your brother are good people. The people that refuse to see that are fools”

I didn’t respond. Unable to find the right words. I kept walking, slower than before. The sound of waves crashed over my ears. The white noise comforting. Tarquin was not a bad looking male by a long shot. Even under the mountain he was gorgeous. But even thinking of it, however fleetingly, felt wrong. Some deep part in my chest hurt as I thought of how easy it would be to fall in love with him. My hand drifted subconsciously to rub that sharp sting away.

“You’re kind too. I see it in the way you interact with your people. Very few high lords care about lesser fae, let alone enough to remember their names.” It was his turn to blush, the skin on his cheeks darkening ever so slightly.

“I want to be better than those before me. I see no reason to make my people suffer because they weren't lucky enough to be high born.”

“I wouldn’t call it lucky.” I muttered mostly to myself.

“Neither would I. But to them, to the people that only get to watch…”

“It all does seem rather glamorous. Just another mask to put on.” I bit my tongue, cursing myself for saying too much. To my surprise, Tarquin only nodded along.

“Better to let them think it’s all parties and banquets. It means we’re doing our jobs well enough.” Once again, silence blanketed itself over us. Both of us were aware that our conversation had drifted to something too real. As I looked out at the ocean and saw the tide starting to swell again, I felt disgust ebb through me. I hoped Feyre had made it out by now. That she had gotten the book. We would be leaving tomorrow regardless. Tarquin must have noticed the look on my face, the pensive far-off look.

“Are you sad to be leaving?” Luckily he had misread my emotions. I nodded, not entirely lying to him.

“Your home is beautiful and it’s nice to be given a break from Hewn city. Sometimes when I wake it, it’s hard not to think I’m still…with her.” He grabbed my hand in his as I spoke. As I looked into his sea green eyes, I had never felt more disgusted with myself. He was kind and trusting and so naive. It felt too easy. Any other high lord, one that had been around longer, would have never let my brother or Feyre out of their sight. Pretty face or not. But the High Lord in front of me didn’t hold an ounce of suspicion for my court. Had told Feyre that much during their trip earlier in the week. It made my stomach twist.

“She left our mark on all of us, it’s our job to make sure someone like her can never have that chance again.” My throat felt tight and I couldn't speak. He was a good male without a doubt. I only hoped he would forgive us for what we had to do, and would be willing to hear us out after all is said and done.

AS if the mother herself sensed my words, an alarm rang from within the castle. Tarquin jumped, pulling his hand from mine as a figure appeared next to us. I hoped the sigh of relief wasn’t too loud as I saw Rhys. It’s done. We need to go now. Tarquin’s head was whipping back and forth between his palace and my brother. I knew I would never be able to forget the look of pure disbelief in his eyes as the pieces clicked into place.

“I’m so sorry.” I took a step towards him as Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist and the moonlit water of the summer court disappeared around me.

My knees gave out as soon as I felt the ground return underneath me. Azriel was at my side instantly, hands quick to wipe the silent tears off of my face. I pushed myself away from him. So disgusted with myself I could hardly breathe. My brother paid no attention to me, instead turning his focus to Feyre. I let out a mix between a sob and a laugh as I saw her pull out the book. Azriel just pulled me back against his chest. And my treacherous body relaxed in his hold. That familiar smell of nighttime and pine and something so Azriel that I couldn’t help but calm down. I clung to him tighter as Feyre struggled to open the book. Scared that this had all been for nothing. Then the sick voice echoed through the room. A language I couldn’t quite make out but chilled me to my very core. Like the book had been made of nightmares themselves. Even Azriel tensed beside me, wings flaring before I felt them wrap around me. The voice burrowed into my brain sending a fresh wave of tears down my face. Then, just as sudden as it had started it stopped. Feyre held the now opened box in her lap, refusing to look into it.

Amren finally looked and pulled away, swearing. She looked…scared. It was a look so out of place on her face that I almost couldn’t clock it. But as she looked back at the book I recognized the pure terror flickering behind those quick silver eyes and I wondered out loud what exactly we had gotten ourselves into.

I didn’t stay to discuss the events at the summer court with the rest of my family. As it was, Azriel had to all but carry me to my room. Maybe I was being dramatic but the last few days mixed with that look from Tarquin had worn heavily on me. Waves of guilt kept roaring through me. Enough so that I simply let Azriel place me onto my bed, feeling too disgusted with myself to be in his presence any longer. He only pressed a light kiss to my forehead before he pulled the curtains shut and left my room.

Azriel didn’t return until later the next day. When I finally was able to look him in the eyes I saw nothing but concern in those hazel eyes. Concern I didn’t deserve or want.

“Talk to me.” He pleaded. I shook my head, a small sniffle the only sound I made. Willing the tears away. I didn’t even deserve to be crying for myself. He sighed heavily and pulled me into his lap. I was so upset that I didn’t even consider the intimate hold. I just curled up tighter into myself and let him rock me back and forth.

“I’m a horrible person.” I sobbed into his chest, unable to hold back the tears.

“Rhys told me everything. You’re not. They don’t know it yet but this could save us all.” I didn’t let his words comfort me.

“He’s so kind. It sickens me to think that I might be the reason he stops being kind.” My voice broke. The admission was unbearable.

“He’ll deal with it.” I sniffled one more time before I started to calm down.

Tarquin did in fact deal with it. In the form of four blood red rubies delivered to Hewn City that morning. I swore when Rhys placed it on my bed. “Azriel’s already sweeping the border, so if you decided to have a melt down on me again, you’ll be waiting for a while for someone to comfort you.” Half a tease and half a plea for me to keep it together. I tossed the ruby to the floor, letting it roll under my bed.

“You really know how to comfort a female, Rhys. It’s a miracle we aren’t having to peel Feyre off of you, truly.” I spit at him.

“Be angry at me all you want, but get your shit together. You’ve, we’ve, done far worse things.”

“To people that deserved it.” I whispered back. And that was the root of it all. The way we had done unspeakable things to people in the past had never bothered me, because they would have done the same if they got the chance. But sweet, naive Tarquin…

“He’ll understand in time.” Was all he offered, and I saw red tinge the edge of my vision.

“But at what cost? He’s a good ally to have if we come down to war and we very well might have pushed him into Hyberns hands.”

“If it takes a simple theft for him to go to Hybern then he was never truly an ally.” I wanted to slap the cock-sure look off of my brother's face.

“Send in Azriel when he gets back.” Dismissal clear in my tone. Rhys looked at me, but I turned away from him. He said my name softly.

“Get.Out.” I gritted out, picking up a pillow to throw at him but when I turned around he was already gone.

Azriel did come to my room later in the day, but only long enough to bring me food and say goodbye. He was doing more patrols, checking his network of spies for any word that Summer might be preparing to send soldiers to our doors. He left before I could say anything to him, only leaving a single shadow behind. It stayed near my bed until I ate the food Azriel had brought for me. Then, and only then, did the shadow retreat to the corner of my room, making me feel a little less alone as I drifted off to sleep.

It took days for me to finally come out of my room. Nothing compared to the weeks of waiting for the queens to reply to our request. Rhys didn’t have to inform me I would not be coming to the meeting and I didn't have it in me to argue with his decision. He would keep an open line to me from the human lands and I would be able to add my two cents if it was needed. But after my reaction to Tarquin, wwe couldn’t risk another break down on my end. As much as everyone understood where I was coming from, they knew the role I played weighed heavily on me and if I was to attend the meeting I would need to play my part perfectly. A part I didn’t want to play at the moment. That would leave me with Amren, the ancient fae had not let the book out of her sight since it had been given to her. Rhys and I were the only others who had an inkling of how to translate the equally as ancient language, but it took me far more concentration than it took her.

She didn’t seem to care because no sooner had my family left before she was hauling the book onto the table in my office. The map had been moved to a larger table so she sprawled out sheets of paper with random sentences scribbled onto them, like she was translating faster than she could write them down. I stared at the pages until my eyes began to blur over. Amren shot me a dirty look when I pushed away from the table rubbing my eyes.

“Weak.” She muttered to herself and I didn’t dignify her taunt with a reply. I had nothing to prove to her, and she very well might be right. I didn’t have the same pull to war like she did, planning it was hard enough. Despite how naturally it came to me, I despised the scheming and backstabbing that usually accompanied it. I didn’t spare her a glance as I walked out of the room, leaving her to her own devices to try to make sense of the pages of the book.

It was around dinner time when everyone appeared in the front room of the house. I could feel the tension radiating off of Rhys and I wondered why he hadn’t tried to contact me. Until I followed him into his office and he spun around, looking like he was ready to attack me.

“They want proof that we’re not the court the rumors suggest. They want to see behind the mask.” He spit out, hands lacing into his hair looking like he might pull it from his roots.

“What are you going to do?” I asked him softly. Taking very slow steps towards him. He growled before he pushed the contents of his desk to the ground. He stood, chest heaving rapidly as he just stared at the floor.

“I’m going to show it to them. For the first time since its creation, I’m going to show someone Velaris.” He sunk into his chair, like his legs would no longer support him. I sensed Cassian and Azriel behind me then. I shot them a look that told them to get out and they left as quickly as they had entered. I walked over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him. The sob he let out shook me to my very core and I could only hold him tighter. NO words of encouragement found their way from my throat.

“I’m sorry for judging you so much over the last weeks.” He said once the sobs had stopped echoing around the room.

“You were only trying to-”

“I was only being selfish. You made a hard choice and look at me the moment I’m presented with one.”

“You’re allowed to feel things, Rhys.” A conversation we had had far too many times. He shook his head against my shoulder.

“Not if this is what it does to me. Not if it puts my family in danger.” He sounded so broken and exhausted.

“You don’t have to do this alone.” My words only made him start sobbing again. And I just held him, not trusting myself to speak as he cried himself out.

We didn’t speak of the events in his office, that singular moment of weakness from my brother and the others knew better than to ask. The withering glare I had shot Amren when she even attempted to pry served as warning to leave it be. They let it be as the focus quickly turned to the trip to Hewn city. The Veritas orb would be the only way the queens would ever truly believe us.

So we all prepared. Dressing in finery like it was no different than our fighting leathers. Because in that wretched court they were synonymous. Lipstick akin to war paint and a lethal smile more than just an expression.

I dug in the back of my closet for the ballgowns I reserved only for these occasions. The one I chose for tonight was made of a fabric so black it looked purple. Cut outs at my waist and a neckline that nearly dipped to my navel. Twin slits up the legs that closed right under my hip bone. I left my hair down as I usually did, pinning it to one side of my head. Slipping in my crown I didn’t give myself another glance in the mirror.

The dress left no room for weapons anywhere on my body but Azriel would be by my side as we searched for the orb. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to even think of using the polished blade that sat on his hip.

Mor and I arrived first. Winnowing ahead of the others to announce our arrival. There weren't many preparations to be made, the court never one to stop partying. Only stopping enough to sleep or the occasional formal dinner. So Mor and I waited. And waited. Kier grew ever impatient at the lack of my brother's appearance.

“He’s your high lord, he can come and go whenever he pleases.” My voice the perfect picture of an ice cold princess. Stuck up and full of mirth. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes of course, I just wish to go back to my own festivities instead of waiting for him to grace us with his presence.”

“You will wait as long as he sees fit.” I bared my teeth at him and all he did was give me a wicked smile. I fought to keep my face even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling me.

Mor was shifting from foot to foot. Looking at her, you would think she was bored, but her tight grip on her arms was the only indication about how uncomfortable she was. Standing in the same room as her father. Neither of them so much as looked at the other.

“Why don’t you go check on the others. Make sure they remembered we were coming.” I said to Mor, giving her an excuse to leave if only for a few minutes. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a tight nod in appreciation. When she arrived, her face was grim before that mask of indifference snapped back into place. I would have to ask her about it later.

I almost sighed in relief when I saw my brother, Feyre in tow behind him, walk through the heavy obsidian doors. Kier had already gone back to the main room, my threatening promise of collecting him when my brother appeared.

“Wait for the others.” Rhys said to me as he brushed by me, steps not faltering as he walked into the throne room. So I waited for Cassian and Azriel. They arrived a few minutes after Rhys had left the room.

“What happened?” I hissed at them, seeing their glowing siphons.

“Ambush. We’ll tell you more later.” Azriel said in a clipped voice, shadows whipping around his feet. Clearly agitated. I nodded.

“You better.” I answered before we all fell into our positions. Azriel on my right and Cassian on my left, me a few paces in front of them. The three of us walked into the throne room. If it wasn’t already silent, the sheer presence of the three of us would have quieted it. As it was, eyes tracked our every move, people all but jumping out of the way of the three of us. Gone were the playful smiles and casual words. Here I was more than just darkness, if Rhys night incarnate and I was something different entirely. The absence of anything, a void. Everyone here had witnessed first hand my powers. The smoke that could incapacitate everyone standing before me, when I had my full powers. Then there was Azriel and Cassian, the wicked spymaster and the bloodthirsty general.

A path was cleared for us up to the dias where Rhys was standing. Azriel and Cassian knelt at the foot of the marble steps. I joined my brother on the opposite side as Feyre. A feline smile gracing my features as I looked at the kneeling figures of the court.

“How lovely of you to finally join us.”

“Call it fashionably late.” Rhys chuckled darkly at my response. With that he walked over to his throne. Pulling Feyre onto his lap. I walked a few paces to stand beside him, my usual position as his sister. I was not expected to kneel for him, instead presenting a unified front. The terrifying high lord and his equally powerful sister.

I tried to ignore the way Rhys ran his hands all over Feyre. She had already been warned of the role she would have to play while visiting this court. A role she accepted. I admired how bravely she was taking it all. He leaned in to whisper something I tried to tune out. The court is still kneeling, bodies shifting with the strain of the position. As if remembering that they were even there. “Go play.” Was the only acknowledgement he gave them. Dismissing them like they weren’t worth his time anymore. The music began after a few moments. People scramble to do something to distract themselves.

I walked over to the two warriors as Rhys summoned Kier from his spot near the dias. I fought the urge to hiss at him as he walked by me. I let a small flicker of smoke leak from my hands instead, a threat. He snarled at me and I only let out a low laugh.

Azriel was already waiting for me. Ready to surround us in darkness to retrieve the orb. We hung by the edge of the room for a little longer, slipping out seamlessly.

I led the way down the twisting hallways to the vaults that lay hidden underneath Kier’s bedchambers. Azriel needed someone from our bloodline to get in that room, the wards being keyed to our family. We didn’t run into any guards on the way, the wards making it unnecessary.

We entered the cavernous room and began searching. Azriel sent his shadows off through the various tunnels to search ahead of us. We searched through room after room. Silently cursing my extended family for the sheer amount of things they held onto. Jewels and ancient tomes. Records of every dealing of the court of nightmares. I rolled my eyes at the absurd opulence of it all. Azriel’s shadows whipped back to him, wrapping around his shoulders. No doubt whispering of the orbs wearabouts. He grabbed my hand in his as the shadows slunk back to their previous location. The orb was sitting high on a shelf. Out or reach if it wasn’t for Azriel’s wings. He quickly scooped it up and placed it in a bag hidden underneath his leathers.

We started the walk back to the throne room. The sound of footsteps alerting us of someone else's, several someones, presence. Without thinking, I pulled Azriel’s face close to mine. Bringing a hand up to his face. His hand went to wrap around my waist at the quick movement.

“Play along.” I whispered to him. I gave a quiet sultry laugh and the footsteps stopped mere feet from us. I jumped back like they had surprised me. Peeling myself off of Azriel. I stepped away, forcing an embarrassed look onto my face.

The two males only stared at Azriel and I. Taking note of the secluded spot, the space I had abruptly put between us. Predatory smiles graced their faces.

“Don’t let us ruin your fun.” One said.

“Unless you would rather us join.” The other added. From the lilt of their voices, I could tell they were drunk. Too drunk to realize exactly who they were speaking to like that. I only made a disgusted sound, pulling Azriel behind me as the sound of their laughter echoed through the hallway behind us.

Azriel and I blended seamlessly into the dancing crowd. The music was slightly more refined than earlier. He didn’t say anything to me as I pulled his hand into mine and put his other hand on my waist. He slowly let his shoulders relax, leaning into me and his footing became more sure.

It didn’t take long for me to forget why we were doing this, that we had nearly been caught despite his shadows. As I danced with him, I forgot anything but us existed.

The music flowed through me making me feel light as he spun me around the dance floor. I didn’t care about the eyes tracking us across the room. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on my exposed waist. He whispered a joke at something his shadows must have picked up and I threw my head back with laughter. Truthfully I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good. My mind fully focused on Azriel.

I prayed to the mother he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that had risen along my skin against his touch.

He dipped me low and I felt my breath stop. His face an inch from mine. It would be so easy to close that distance and feel his lips against mine. Every part of my brain was screaming at me to do it. His shadows raced around us like they could hear my thoughts. My traitorous body locked up when all I wanted to do was pull him to me. He took in the tension in my body and started to pull away. Panicking at the thought of losing his body heat against mine, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him back down to me, right as he started to stand me up. I bit back a moan as I felt the plush of his lips collide with mine.

It was clumsy and rushed but I sucked down breaths full of him, hand still locked on his neck. His hands tightened their hold against me and he groaned my name before he pushed me away.

“I’m sorry. I…” all the joy had leached out of me as I took in his face. He looked disgusted and before I could say anything else he was weaving through the crowd, leaving me alone on the dance floor.

My mind was reeling. Lips still tingling in the aftermath. I had dreamed of that kiss for centuries but never could have predicted his reaction. The tears were streaking down my face before I quickly wiped them away, pushing my way through moving bodies. I needed to get out of this room, get out of this stupid dress that had suddenly become too tight to breathe.

Before I could rip it off in the middle of the throne room, Rhys caught my elbow and was pulling me down to a quiet hallway. I haven't even realized he had left his throne.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” I couldn’t answer with anything other than a sob. He took me into his arms and my skin crawled at the contact. I shrugged out of his hold and could only get out one word. “Mor.” I said her name like the lifeline it was. I saw the conflict in Rhys’ eyes. The need to make me feel better and not leave me alone. But as another sob passed my lips he was all but running away to grab the female I had requested.

I was hiccuping between sobs by the time Mor arrived. Rhys nowhere in sight, probably returning back to that cruel High Lord facade. I don’t think I could have gotten the words out of what had happened if he was still standing beside me. I choked out the words to her. Recounting what happened and Azriel’s less than enthusiastic reaction. Mor was well aware of my feelings and her eyes shone with sympathy. She held me as I cried it out, tears soaking the fabric on her shoulder. Her hold on me helped to ground me and eventually my tears calmed. I gave her the tightest squeeze I could manage and she held me at arms length, examining my face. Her thumbs came up to wipe under my eyes, coming away with streaks of my makeup sticking to them. My own hands brushed along my face and a sigh of relief followed as I noticed my makeup hadn't smudged too much. No one would be able to know the mess a single kiss had just reduced me to.

Taking Mors outstretched hand, she pulled me back into the main ballroom, music filling my ears again. The tempo had picked up more turning into something I might hear at Rita’s and definitely something you couldn’t waltz to. Couples had retreated to the sides as the dance floor became a breathing pulse instead of the graceful swell of movement it had been earlier. The pairs that had remained grinding against each other. Mor snagged two flukes of champagne as she pulled us deeper into the dance floor. I knocked mine back as quickly as I could and resolved to block out all the thoughts that were racing around in my head. So I danced with Mor until my brow was covered in sweat, my skin glistening at the rising temperature of the entire room. We ignored all the disgruntled looks aimed our way. Not caring if they heard our laughter for once.

We both laughed as we found our way to the edge of the crowd again, grabbing more champagne. We both hung back catching our breath together and I let out a heavy sigh as I emptied the glass. I spotted the shadows from across the room and all but slammed the glass onto the table behind me.

“I’m leaving.” Was all I said to Mor as I stalked away. She didn’t try to stop me, only grabbed my arm to winnow me back to Velaris. She didn’t linger. Returning just as swiftly as we had arrived.

I just made it back to my room before the tears started anew. Ripping the pins out of my hair and peeling the beautiful dress off my shaking frame, I didn’t make it to my bed before I sunk down to my feet. Pulling my knees close to my chest I let the tears come.

He was allowed to not return my feelings but in those moments on the dance floor that kiss had felt so real. The way I effortlessly fit against him or the laughter that flowed freely from me. It all felt so right and to see that look on his face. It broke some part of me I had been holding onto for so long now. That small dream that he could for some reason ever return my sentiments. That he would ever see me as anything as Rhys’ sister.

I eventually was able to pull myself into bed and curl myself into a ball. Tears lulling me off to sleep. I must have dreamt that night because I swore I felt those familiar shadows glide over my skin but by the time I opened my eyes they were gone.

I managed to pull myself out of bed the next morning. Pushing the stinging rejection to some deep part of me. There’s a war at our doorsteps and you’re crying over a kiss. I reminded myself to stop being so pathetic as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I was the last to arrive apparently.

“You disappeared rather quickly last night.” Cassian said to me, tone teasing but laced with questions.

“We got the orb, and I no longer wanted to be there.” I shrugged. Pointedly ignoring the gaze of the shadowslinger I could feel burning a hole in the side of my head. I didn’t talk to him all morning, suddenly finding someone calling my name when he tried to speak to me. It was childish, sure, but I didn’t have it in me to discuss it without breaking down in front of him. As it was, I could barely make eye contact with him. My lips tingled every time I look at him. A feeling that I imagine must be similar to being struck by lighting erupted over my skin. I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Lucky for me, Rhys had called me into his study to go over the events of last night. What that would mean for our upcoming trip to the queens.

I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice that Rhys had stopped talking.

“What happened to you last night?” Rhys asked in a soft voice. I shook my head. If I started talking about it I wouldn’t be able to stop. Rhys would know everything.

“Weren’t you just the one telling me you don’t have to do this by yourself. Gods just let me help you.”

“You can’t fix this, Rhys.”

“Why not?”

“Azriel kissed me.” He tensed at my rushed words.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was cold as death. I shook my head.

“Not the way you mean.” He tapped his hand impatiently against his desk, waiting for more of an explanation. So I sighed and told him everything.

“How long have you been in love with him?” He asked when I finally finished my story.

“I’m not-” His pointed stare made me wither. “Only a few years after you became high lord.” I admitted. He had the audacity to laugh.

“Cassian and I called it.” I gaped at him.

“Not out loud or anything but we always assumed.”

“That’s all you have to say about this?”

“You’re an adult. He’s an adult.”

“So you have no idea why he reacted that way.” He looked sheepish at my question. Hands going to pick at an invisible piece of lint. “Rhysand.” He flinched as I said his full name.

“No. I have no idea.” He threw his hands up in the air before he said “Have you tried, I don’t know, talking to him yourself?”

It was my turn to look sheepish.

“That explains why you’ve been avoiding him all morning then.” A smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“And I’m sure you were whispering all about the mating bond in Feyre’s ear last night?” I returned.

“Touche.”

“Who would have guessed, the two scariest fae in all of Pyrthian and we run with our tails between our legs at the thought of a romantic relationship.”

“Pathetic truly.”

“If only they could see us now.” I joked back.

I felt better after my talk with Rhys, lighter even. It was nice to have him know even if it meant I would have to endure his teasing at times. Azriel said nothing about my change in mood as I finally acknowledged him, Rhys making a lewd gesture behind the spymaster. I fought to keep my laugh down. Azriel looked behind his shoulder to find a perfectly still Rhys, his head turned back to me and then to Rhys again, like he might catch him if he moved fast enough.

“We should-” He started before I held up a hand.

“Not necessary. I got the message loud and clear.” He deflated ever so slightly at my words and didn’t say anything else. So I carried on about my day as usual, until it was time to get dressed for tonight.

The gown I wore tonight was vastly different from the one I wore to Hewn city. This was a silver, tiered dress. Ruffles formed to look like butterfly wings and encrusted with gems on the edges. The neckline was far more modest than my other dress, swooping gently right under my collar bone. I couldn’t help but twirl in the mirror. Giggling at the rainbows the clear gems threw across the ceiling. It truly was a gorgeous dress. One I had custom made from one of the shops in Velaris.

I didn’t wait for any of the others to join me. I had gotten ready at the house of wind so I could join the festivities the moment I was ready. Too excited to waste one minute with Mor fussing about her hair. I stood on the balcony, eyes already searching for those little flickers of starlight.

“You look beautiful.” A voice behind me said, making me jump. I haven't heard Azriel approaching behind me. He stood beside me by the railing, leaning on his elbows. It was peaceful, standing next to him with the wind brushing against my skin. The events from last night eddying out of my mind with him so close to me.

“I missed this.” I nearly whispered to him. Looking out at the lights of the city I loved. Hearing the laughs and joyous shouts of everyone above us. It was all too much and not enough, the thought of it bringing happy tears to my eyes. Tears that I felt scared hands wipe away before I could. “I’m sorry. I just… I never thought I would see this again.” His eyes filled with a deep sadness. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, Mor called my name. Rushing over she put a glass of champagne in my hand, pulling me upstairs with the other. Azriel trailed behind us.

I looked over my shoulder and gave him a soft smile that he returned. Cassian was waiting for all of us, talking to some pretty female that was batting her eyelashes at him. He didn’t give her a second glance when he spotted us approaching, the female calling his name as he retreated from her side. I could have laughed at the look she gave all of us but I didn’t have time to think about it as Cassian swept me into a bone-crushing hug.

“Look at you all dolled up, princess.” Cassian said as he held me at arms length.

“Couldn’t have you upstage me” I winked at him which only made him throw his head back with laughter. I joined in and felt a weight uncurl from my shoulders.

“Come on.” Mor said as the music started to pick up. The telltale sign that the best part was just ahead. My eyes searched the crowd for my brother. I wanted to share this moment with him. I caught the outline of wings on the balcony above us. Tucked away enough that I really had to search for him. I saw the sparkle of Feyre’s dress and a warm smile plastered itself to my face. His arm was wrapped around her waist. I looked away, giving them their privacy.

No sooner had I looked back to the sky did I see the faint trails of light beginning to fill it. First one, then a few more, then the sky was full of the brightly colored trails. Bits of stardust landed in the river below us, covering the surface with their glittering color. Mor grabbed my hand, pulling me into a uneleagant dance. Cassian and Azriel joined in a few moments later. The four of us not caring about the moves we made, simply soaking up each other's company. Azriel wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side and I felt my heart skip a beat. Mind instantly going back to our dance at the court of nightmares. He shot me an almost apologetic smile that told me he was thinking the same thing. I shrugged at him. Nothing to apologize for. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Simple as that. It didn’t have to mean anything, nothing more than the heat of the moment decision. As much as it hadn’t been that for me, as much as it stung to know that’s all he saw it as.

Shaking the thoughts away, I grabbed his arm and swayed gently to the beat. Cassian and Mor devolved into a dance that was more jumping than dancing. They wrapped their arms around each other howling with laughter.

I felt the glittering substance hit my arm. Looking down to inspect it, I noticed Azriel’s wings sporting their own splatters. It took every ounce of brain power I possessed not to reach up and brush it off of those beautiful wings. Instead I dipped a finger through the dust on my arm and wiped a streak over Azriel’s cheek. He stared at me in disbelief before a booming laugh left him. The sound warmed my heart. He laughed like this so rarely, truly carefree. It seemed so natural to lean in and rest my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me as we just stood in each other's embrace. I tilted my head up so I could see his hazel eyes already looking down at me.

“Azriel I…”

He let me go when Mor cried out my name, cutting off my words.

“You’re not nearly drunk enough.” She said pulling my arm to the table holding the full glasses. I turned to look at Azriel but he seemed to have disappeared already. His shadow trailing across my shoulder being the only indicator he had even been there.

Mor and I stayed on the rooftop until the sun started peaking over the horizon. Coloring the Sidra a beautiful pink and orange. Sighing heavily as the lingering effects of the alcohol had started to wear off finally, leaving nothing but exhaustion in their wake. Mor simply grabbed my arm and winnowed us back to the house.

Cassian and Azriel were asleep on the couches. A bottle of whiskey sitting empty on the table between them. They wouldn’t wake up until later in the afternoon. I threw blankets over both of them and started heading to my own room. I didn’t stay up long enough to bathe nor did I peel myself out of my dress. Suddenly too exhausted to even keep my eyes open.

I woke up sometime in the late afternoon. Rhys all but pulled me out of bed.

“We're leaving soon.” That woke me up. With a curse I stumbled over myself to get to the bathing room. I took a hasty bath, washing away the remaining stardust that was stuck to my skin. I braided my hair and dressed in my Illyrian leather. Daggers slid into their place on my thigh. I strapped my sword to my back and was down to meet the others in less than thirty minutes. Rhys gave me an approving nod.

Going to Windhaven never got any easier. I had no love for my old home. It was only a blessing from the cauldron that I haven't been born with wings. The cruelty I faced growing up was enough. The shudder that racked through me had nothing to do with the cold.

I ignored the sneers from passing by males. Azriel and Cassian tight by my side serving as a buffer for the nasty comments that were usually thrown my way. Feyre was silent beside me, taking in the sights around her.

We walked until Lord Devlon walked in front of us. A brutish male that was one of the few people in this world I can say I truly hated. Mor snarled at the mention of the girls they were supposed to be training.

“And why aren’t the males helping them with the chores?” I dared to ask him. He looked at me like I was no more than a speck of dirt on his leathers.

Before Devlon could grace me with a response Rhys cut him off. The demanding voice of a high lord telling him to clear out our old house. The tone even Devlon couldn’t argue with.

Rhys, Feyre and I stood in the clearing. Time and time again she reached her power out, getting stronger each time. I practiced along with her. She stood in awe of the mist that poured out of my hands, getting thicker each time until it hugged the ground like fog.

“When did you meet Tamlin?” Feyre asked after a string of questions about Illyria. Rhys and I both stiffened. The mist instantly retreated back into my hands.

“Show me something impressive and I’ll tell you.” She rolled her eyes but did it anyway. Holding out her hand she conjured a butterfly out of the water in the snow. It was very impressive.

“I’ve known Tamlin since he was young. The more decent children of the high lords at the time. Definitely better than Berons bunch.” He almost shivered and I willed the earth to swallow me whole. “And significantly better than his brothers, who knew from the moment Tamlin was born he would be high lord. He was the lesser of the evils so I decided it would be better if we were friends… I don’t know why but I even taught him some illyrian techniques.”

“Did anyone know?” He shook his head. I blanched at the thought of how angry our father would have been had he known about Rhys and Tamlin’s friendship. Rhys looked to me, knowing the next part of the story was mine to tell. I just nodded at him, giving him permission to say the words I couldn’t.

“When my father got wind of our friendship… for lack of a better term. He decided it was time for the two courts to align themselves more. And that’s where this gets even more complicated.” He trailed off, once again looking at me.

“Why?” Feyre pressed on and I wish she hadn’t , wish she would have let it go at that.

“Because the only way to join the courts in any way my father deemed worthy was to marry them together. Literally.” Feyre’s eyes went wide and her gaze landed on me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Shame rising up, tightening my throat. Rhys continued.

“We all saw the power that Tamlin had, the power that marked him as the next High Lord of spring. And without any sisters for me to get paired off to, that left one option.” He shrugged over at me.

“What happened? I mean, I’m assuming you never…never went through with it.” I took a deep breath, willing my voice to work.

“I moved to the spring court, I tried to fight it but my father would absolutely not hear it. Every plea fell on deaf ears. So I went because I had to,” my hands were shaking as I pulled up the memories. “It wasn’t so bad. Tamlin was different back then, sweeter, less guarded. At least when he wasn’t around his father. We became friends over time. But the closer we grew, the more protective he got over me.” She nodded, understanding the feeling. “Eventually it became a little more. He fell faster than I did, I never really saw him as more than a close friend but we were supposed to be married so I played along. Wishing every day that I could return his sentiments. Calanmi came that next year and he sought me out.” She paled at my words, her hand rubbing absentmindedly at her neck. I quickly added. “It wasn’t horrific by any stretch of the imagination. If I had said no, regardless of the magic, he wouldn’t have done it. Would have stopped. But that was when everything shifted for him. I couldn’t go out to the gardens without having his sentinels on my tail. Was damn near confined to only the house. Lucien wasn’t around as much then, still fairly new to the court. And of course, his father was watching our every move. Gauging the relationship as it progressed. Watched as I withered away under Tamlin’s overbearing protection.” I couldn’t stop the words as they flowed out of my mouth.

“I pushed back as much as I could. I was constantly sneaking out which only made him more overbearing. We fought more than we didn’t. Both of us said and did horrible things to each other. I knew I couldn’t live like that forever. Couldn’t continue to suffer just because my father had some grand plan.” I finally met Feyre’s eyes and I almost flinched at the understanding in them. Of course she would get it. Her own experience was not too different from mine. She nodded at me, a sign to keep going.

“So I started planning how to get back home. I couldn’t just winnow away in the dead of night. I knew he would come looking for me. I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily. I had to break whatever love he thought he held for me, I had to make him let me go willingly. It wasn’t peaceful by any means. I went too far one day in an argument and for the first time ever he lost control.” I pulled up the arm to my jacket, letting the glamor fall away on the three angry claw marks that I never let heal. A reminder of just how destructive both of our tempers had gotten.

“Why do you seem so calm about this, why didn’t you let me know…I would have-” Her skin was rippling with darkness. Fire flickering from her palms.

“Would have what, Feyre? You were willing to die for him. I couldn’t take that away from you. I wanted to believe he could change, that he would be better to you. But that is simply how he loves.” I took a steading breath. “I said we both did some terrible things to each other and I stand by that. He’s a villain in my story as much as I am in his.”

“We simply didn’t want to think we were trying to turn you against him” Rhys echoed.

Rhys reached for her as she was already walking towards him. My ears barely picked up the whispered words.

“I want to paint you.”

“Nude would be best” I rolled my eyes as Rhys reached to winnow me with them.

I was able to catch up with Mor and Cassian as they surveyed the newest girls in training. Most of them were too scared to even pick up a sword, their eyes not moving from worriedly staring at Cassian. Signing, I stepped up in front of him.

“Magic or no magic?” He asked, raising a challenging eyebrow to me.

“Magic.” That gave him full permission to use his siphons. That was one department where I needed the practice as much as he did. I tried to pull all my focus on that kernel inside me. The smoke curled out from me before it retreated the moment I moved towards Cassian.

“Try harder.” He growled at me. And I did. I’d been able to coat the ground in the black fog. Cassian stepping to avoid it, but it followed him like a serpent. Twisting and curling around him. It was easier this time. More like trying to pull it through murky water as opposed to a brick wall. Something had changed since this afternoon. It was easier to hold onto it, and didn't leave me as breathless as before. It took a few more tries but I was even able to move around, the fog still staying on the ground. When we were done, I noticed Mor was coaching three of the girls who had been brave enough to pick up swords. I smiled at Cassian as we both watched her. It wasn’t much but it was progress. Slow progress but a start.

All of us sat around the fire that night. Gathering as close as we could, trying to gain any sort of warmth from it. Feyre looked like her hands might just fall off, not built for or used to the frigid temperatures the night brought with it. We sat absently chatting as we all ate. Mor was going to Hewn city in the morning and Azriel had already left to scout out the human lands. I wasn’t happy with the idea of him going alone but he waved off my concern, promising me he would be safe. Mor, true to her word, left before the sun had even risen the next morning. Grumbling my good bye to her through sleep filled eyes.

Rhys had convinced me to train with him and Feyre again. Impressed by the progress both of us had made so far. Feyre and I traveled further back into the clearing, putting space between her and my brother. I didn’t ever ask him what exactly had happened during starfall but the tension between the two was palpable and I didn’t blame her for needing space. As much as I hated being away from Azriel, the distance was nice. I felt like I was suddenly unable to think clearly around the shadowslinger. Thoughts more often than not drifting towards the memory of his lips on mine, his hands around my waist.

A voice I recognized called out Feyre’s name. And to my horror it was not my brother but Lucien standing in the middle of the clearing.

I stood by, ready to use my powers at the first sign from Feyre. Lucien and the wraiths at his side had yet to notice me.

I hung onto every word of their exchange. Someone tipped us off that you had been here. Rage boiled my blood. Devlon no doubt being that someone. I took a step forward as Feyre stepped back.

“Tamlin hasn’t been himself. We’ll take you back-

“Touch her and I kill you.” There was no warmth in my voice for my old friend. Lucien spun around so he was facing me. Giving Feyre time to put space between the two of them. He stared at me, mouth gaping. Smoke was already swirling around my feet. It would take nothing for me to reach out and get Feyre out of here. But this was her battle to fight. I wouldn’t make that choice for her. I felt my self control start to slip as he opened his mouth again.

“Of course. What poison have you been spewing into her ears?” He spit at me.

“Don’t make this about me.” I spit back so harsh, he flinched. A twig snapping had Lucien whipping back to face Feyre.

“Let’s go home.” He said as he reached out a hand. I reached for my dagger, wondering if I would be fast enough to sever it from his body if he reached any closer for her.

“That stopped being my home the moment you let him lock me away inside.” She spoke, quiet as death. He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

“He made a mistake. He’s sorry, we’re both sorry.” I couldn’t help the scoff that left my mouth. He only ripped his gaze on her away for a second.

“All this time and you can’t come up with better excuses, Lucien?” I goaded him, “Will he change? Will he be better if she just gives him time?” I felt the fog thin out by my feet. I didn’t pay it any mind.

I lunged forward the same time Lucien did. A shout leaving my mouth. But his hands found nothing. Feyre was now standing behind him with Rhys at her side. I didn’t let myself relax.

“Didn’t your mother tell you what the word no means?” Lucien did nothing by spit at my brother's feet. But it was that one word from his mouth.Whoring prick. That had me lunging for him. A firm arm across my chest from Rhys was the only thing holding me back.

“You made your point Feyre-now come home.” He reached his hand out again but feyre only stepped back.

“You gave up on me.” The way she spoke those words hit me like a punch in the gut. Lucien’s eyes flickered over to me. No doubt remembering me saying similar things. I was suddenly very far away until I saw those beautiful IIlryian wings peek over her shoulder. Lucien to his credit did not fall as he stumbled back.

“What did they do to you?” Horror laced his words. Good.

“Tell Tamlin I won’t be coming back. That if he sends anyone for me, I’ll show him exactly what we do to those who wander into our court.” I felt no sympathy at the hurt that washed over Lucien's face.

“You’re dead. You and everyone in your court.” He was gone before I had the chance to lunge at him.

“Scheming prick. Stupid, overconfident bastard.” I kept shouting, kicking the snow around me. I had half a mind to go track him down at the spring court and finish the job I should have done a long time ago. It wasn’t truly Lucien I was mad at, no he was simply the messenger. Once again trying to clean up Tamlins messes. It was either that or have no court to call home. Anger flared through me at the thought. How Tamlin took advantage of Lucien’s situation and turned him into nothing more than a mindless crony. I didn’t pay attention to the words Rhys and Feyre spoke around me. Didn’t even notice Cassian flying in beside me until he gave my arm a small shake. I ripped it out of his hold without even thinking, letting loose a snarl. He spoke my name, reminding me of where exactly I was.

“You’re all safe. Come back with me.” He said, moving closer to me again. I felt the tears already sliding down my face as he scooped me into his arms.

I hardly moved for the rest of the night. The shivers that ran through me had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel was still hunting for lingering signs of Lucien or the spring court so that left Cassian to deal with me. Something he was not known to be the best at, despite his best efforts.

I sat with him until Mor came to collect us both, whatever business she had in Hewn city officially ended.

She sat with me all night. Both of us curled up against each other as we slept.

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be back later in the day so we all waited around for them. Hour after hour past and not a word from them. Azriel had left once again when we told him as much. He returned an hour later.

“Nothing?” I asked him. He slammed his sword down on the table.

“Not a damn thing.” He huffed, storming to one of the rooms in the back of the house.

It was almost nightfall and I had been pacing back and forth across the living room of the small house when I heard a noise from outside. All of us were on our feet, rushing outside before we could think better of it.

The sigh of relief that left me quickly turned into a gasp as I saw Rhys fall to his knees. Cassian and Azriel were on their side of him instantly. Feyre was still standing, in perfect shape actually. Good enough that she was able to march right past me and into the house. The two Illyrian warriors all but dragged Rhys into the house before leaving to go collect Majda. Feyre or Mor were nowhere to be seen.

Rhys’ eyes opened slightly and he only called out Feyre’s name. I shushed him, dabbing a wet washcloth over his head, he was burning hot. Majda came and confirmed what I already knew. Poison. Faebane.

“He’s healing so he’ll need to just sleep it off,” she rose from beside his bed. “His mate's blood very well might have saved his life. He’ll recover in a day or two.” Her words caught me off guard. His mate. If Feyre knew her blood could heal him…Shit. Casssian and Azriel must have made the connection at the same time I did because when we heard Mor enter the house again, we all ran to find her in the living room.

We pulled out a bottle of good wine as she confirmed what we had already thought. Feyre knew, no she doesn’t seem happy. No I won’t tell you idiots where she is. Of course, we could find her on our own if need be but it was the idea behind it. Mor only shared the more intimate details with me. Shooing the males out of the room. “Go take care of Rhys if you care that much. He’ll tell you himself.” They both stomped off in a way that reminded me of toddlers, walking into Rhys room. Mor rushed the words out. Feyre was fine overall, just pissed at him at all of us for keeping something this big a secret. I didn’t blame her one bit but it still stung a little that she was mad at all of us. Did she know how much we had been begging Rhys to tell her?

Rhys woke up in the middle of the next day. He winced as I slammed the door

“How did she find out?”

“Hello to you too. No, how nice to see you Rhysand, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“How did she find out?” I asked again. He sat up a little more, wincing slightly

“She trapped the Suriel.” I balked at him. “It seems it’s not the first time she's done it either.”

Feyre had trapped the Suriel… that could mean. I didn’t want to get my hopes up but I was already on my feet.

“Where are you going?”

“Stay out of it, Rhys.” I closed the door a little softer. It took me practically getting on my knees, begging, to convince Mor to take me to the house she tucked Feyre away in. She only agreed when I promised I wouldn’t mention my brother. She needed to bring Feyre more food anyways.

I stood outside the door, feeling very stupid as I held a basket full of food for her.“If you’re asking me to forgive him, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Feyre had only opened the door an inch

“I need you to tell me how to catch the Suriel.” She opened the door wider

“Why do you want to know?” She motioned me into the house and I looked around wildly. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air and covered her skin.

“I have something I need to ask. Please. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially right now. But please.”

I stood in the middle of a clearing, new cloak in hand. My hands had frozen on the walk over but I had to talk to the Suriel. I knew it was around here, if it had talked to Feyre only the night before. The snare I made was sloppy at best. But I prayed to the mother it would work.

The scream that echoed through the clearing had me running towards the sound, crossing my fingers.

It had indeed worked. The Suriel had my velvet cloak in its hands.It thrashed violently as I approached, suddenly;y going still as it sensed my presence.

“ Let me down before I gut you.”

“I have a question first.” Hollow eyes looked at me, pinning me in place.

“You seek answers about your curse?”

“How do I get rid of it?”

“You already know how. The very thing that the wicked queen knew you would never do.”

“Stop the games. Tell me.” I was shouting, hands shaking.

“Forgiveness. Forgive the one you hate the most.”

I flinched like the Suriel had burned me. The words swam around my head. I vaguely realized I was shaking my head.

“That can’t be it.” I pleaded.

“I am many things, but a liar is not one of them.” I felt the angry tears starting to trail down my face. “Now let me go. I only have so much patience for meddling fae today.” I pulled out one of my jeweled daggers, slicing the rope that held the Suriel’s ankle. As the figure retreated, I sank down to my knees. Forgive the one you hate the most.

It was a rare occurance to be summoned to her private chambers. Attors on either side of me, ready to strike at the first sign of push back. They unceremoniously threw me into the center of the room, pushing me to my knees in front of the red headed female.

“Leave us.” She said in a voice that turned my stomach. I dared to raise my eyes off the ground. Rhys was perched in a soft looking chaise, he didn’t hold my eyes for long. The Attors shuffled out of the room but I knew they lingered in the hallway.

“I hear you’ve been causing trouble again, princess.” It was all I could do not to flinch at the way she said that name. The name my family had called me for centuries. A defiled, twisted rendition of the sign of my family's love. “Well, I have a surprise for you.” Her voice dripped with a wicked delight. From somewhere in the room a noise drew my attention. I completely froze as I saw Tamlin being led out in chains. Even Rhys momentarily broke his mask to glare at him. Amarantha smiled at me as she walked over to him. She squeezed his cheeks in an overly familiar way. “Doesn’t he look good like this?” She laughs at my lack of response, pushing him away from her. He didn’t try to hide his stumble. “No groveling at his feet then? No apologies for the mess you got him into?”

“That’s no-” An invisible hand around my throat cut off the words. Rhys’ eyes flickered to mine, an apology lingering in his violet stare.

“Did I say you could speak?” She released her magic and I nearly fell to the ground, sucking in painful gulps of air. She stalked towards me, stopping inches from me. Her hand went out to cup under my chin, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Maybe if you hadn't broken his heart, he would have accepted my offer the first time.” I bared my teeth at her and she gave a sharp cold laugh.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Are you sure there’s no kind words for our little High Lord over here?” I just held her gaze. Not wavering as I saw the fury in my lack of response, my lack of fighting. “Pity. Where’s that sharp tongue of yours now?” She pushed me, I landed on my back. I didn’t even cry out, too familiar with this treatment from her.

“You’ve made your point.” Rhys said in a bored voice from his seated position. She only gave him a low growl.

“You’re no fun.” She cooed at Rhys. The same voice you would use on a babe. Despite my best efforts, trails of black smoke so thick it looked like ink left my fingers. Another invisible force collided with my body and my power retreated back to me, my chest feeling like someone had poured ice water into my veins. Before I could even attempt to try again, she lifted me onto my feet by my hair. “As much as I’d love to see you try, I’m bored with you already.” She yanked my head back before releasing her hold on me. “Tamlin, any words of goodbye?” Forest green eyes met mine. After all that I endured in this hell, I had never felt as small as I did now. That simple glare, so full of hatred, reducing me to that same afraid girl I had once been. Tamlin didn’t speak. Neither did I.

“Shame. You’ll wish you would have said something soon enough.” I didn’t have time to think over her words as the cold hands of the Attor wrapped around my arm, hauling me back to my room. Didn’t make the connection between that slam in my chest with the trickle of power that I was left with.

It was right there. Amarantha was never one to just give you information. Just like that riddle that had saved us all. Everything had been a game to her, why would this have been any different? But there had to be another way. Thinking back to my encounter with Lucien recently, there was no way in hell I was forgiving any of them any time soon. I would talk to Helion. Go by myself if need be. Because it was going to be a cold day in Hel before I ever forgive Tamlin.

I called out for Rhys. For anyone to come and get me. It was at least a day's journey on foot back to the boundary line outside of Windhaven. I sat by and no one came after me. I reached deep within myself and imagined the space I wanted to go to. I didn’t even make it half way before I popped back into the cold clearing, panting. I tried again and it was like I was reaching through brick again. My powers boarded up behind walls I could not break through. I kicked at the snow, cursing. I tried one last time, crying out when nothing happened. So I began to walk back, hoping when I got close enough Rhys would hear me screaming for him in my head. It wasn’t Rhys that came to get me. Instead, Mor appeared beside me.

“Where have you been?” She said when she spied me, half frozen from the wind.

“Later.” Was all I could get out, I was bone tired.

“You all really need to get your shit together.” She grumbled under her breath as she winnowed us back to the house. Don’t I know it.

Rhys had gone to apologize to Feyre, and had not been back since. We could only hope that meant all was well, or that she had at least hid the body herself.

Rhys and Feyre returned the next day. They didn’t even attempt to hide the smell of the bond, and as happy as I was for my brother I gave him a wide berth. Cassian on the other hand only saw the tension in Rhys shoulders, the way his eyes were drifting between Feyre and every other movement around him.

“Anytime you want a real ride, Feyre, let me know.” As if his words weren’t enough, the wink he sent Feyre had Rhys lunging for him. I had to quickly side step out of the way to avoid being hit by flailing wings. Ushering Feyre into the house I muttered loud enough for her to hear, “Big Illyrian babies.”

They fought for an hour and despite being covered in blood, Feyre sent Rhys a look that the rest of us could not run away from fast enough. Mor winnowed the two of us to the house of wind. Azriel was already there, wings tucked in tight as he looked out the large window overlooking Velaris. I snuck up behind him, a rare achievement to make the spymaster jump when I placed a hand on his shoulder. The others slowly trickled into the room as we all waited for Feyre and Rhys to join us.

The sun was just starting to touch the water when we heard them enter. One by one we stood in front of Feyre before giving a low bow, hands on our hearts in an ancient gesture of respect. One she had more than earned. I couldn’t help but smile at my brother's joy, it radiated off of him in waves so strong I swore I could reach out and grab them. The joy of finally having Feyre by his side. Rhys’ eyes followed my hand as I rubbed a small circle into my chest, separate from the sign we had given Feyre. The tension eased slightly. Rhys quickly looked away before I could ask him why he was staring so intently on me.

The human world was just as I remembered it. Despite seeing it less than a month ago, I still gawked as we approached Feyre’s family home. I knew she never lived in this particular estate but the idea that Tamlin made this possible for them thawed my heart just a fraction. Forgive the one you hate the most. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to my brother, or anyone, about what Suriel had told me. Everyone too caught up in Rhys and the Queens we were sitting in front of.

I sat in stunned silence at the vipers in crowns in front of us. The queens I had met before would laugh if they heard these were their predecessors.

Mor opened the box in front of her and I had to sit on my hands to stop the urge to knock it out of her hands and destroy the orb. Azriel’s hand on my shoulder did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of me. We all took a collective breath as the bright lights of Velaris filled the orb.

“This is Velaris,” My brother started and I felt his heart shatter in front of me. “For five thousand years, we have kept it a secret from outsiders. This is what I have fought so hard to protect. The cruelty you believe I possess to protect this city, my people. Dreamers and creators and good people with families. People that have never known strife or violence. All of what I have gone through over the centuries was to protect them.” I couldn’t stop the sniffle that left me and I desperately tried to blink back the tears rimming in my eyes.

“We will..consider this information.” Mor snarled beside me. I felt like the eldest queen had punched me in the stomach. I went to stand but Nesta beat me to it.

“Give.Them.The.Book” I didn’t discount the single tear streaking down her own face.

“No.” A word so final I couldn’t breathe.

“We appreciate the gesture of your trust.” But I could not look away from the way Cassian stood next to Nesta. The calm he emitted from standing so close to her. When I looked back the queens were gone.

I looked to my brother, head reeling at the events that had just happened. We fulfilled our end of the bargain. Screaming, manipulative-

In Rhys’ hand sat a box, a box not unlike the one Feyre had struggled to open when we returned from the summer court. A surprised noise left my mouth and Azriel tightened his hand on my shoulder, rubbing small comforting circles.

Nesta and Elain chose to stay in the mortal lands. The sisters are staying in their family home. The last thing I heard before we left was Nesta whispering to Feyre. That’s why you painted stars on your drawer.

There was no celebration when we arrived back in Velaris. No sense of triumph as we handed the book to Amren. We had gotten what we needed but at what cost. To Rhys, to my family, it had cost everything. All that he suffered during the war, from my father, from the Illyrian soldiers that looked down on him so much. All that he suffered under the mountain, from Amarantha, all the horrible things we had done together. All of it was sacrificed to the wicked queens who still did not know we possessed the book. Queens who would gladly sit back and watch Prythian and their world be destroyed.

Rhys and Mor went to the Court of Nightmares the next morning, to return what we had stolen before Kier noticed. Azriel and Cassian pulled me into my study to go over the map, planning for the inevitable war. We added more pins to the maps, adjusting the Illryians to their new location scattered across the mountain ranges. Added the black pins for the warriors we prayed Kier would grant us. I don’t know how long we stayed in that room, Cassian and Azriel periodically doing a lap of the house and its perimeter to watch for anyone who would want to hurt Feyre. Overgrown guard dogs. But I found that even I was keeping a more watchful ear out for any sign of trouble, a light cover of fog I kept over my hands like gloves, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

The next day, Azriel pulled me from the map to accompany him on patrol. Leaving Cassian the great pleasure of entertaining Feyre until Rhys’ return later today. The city held an eerie silence today despite the citizens going about their usual routines. It wasn’t much later than that thought crossed my mind that I felt the ground beneath my feet quake. My head whipped to Azriel who had gone as still as a statue, his shadows scattering out from him searching for the source of the sound.

“Azriel?” I questioned, looking around the area for any threat. And then I followed his eye line. Eyes turned to the once clear midafternoon sky, now tinged in clouds of darkness. They were moving far too fast to be only storm clouds.

“Get Amren and Cassian, now” I choked out. Azriel’s arms were around me instantly, taking off into the sky. Feyre and Cassian had gone to the amphitheater on the other side of the city, hopefully they weren’t far from there. A red light filled the sky, a homing beacon to where we would find Cassian. Quake after quake filled the ground as those creatures tore through the shield around the city. They reverberated through the air, Azriel only held onto me tighter.

Cassian was shooting through the sky and I felt the ground beneath my feet. Azriel stayed long enough to hear me cry out to him, “Be safe.” He was gone. And I was running towards the direction I had seen Cassian fly in from. Screaming filled the air and I reached for the sword on my back, daggers left forgotten on my hip. I gave tentative push of my power and could have cried in relief at the cloud that pushed out from me, however thin it was. I pulled my earlier thought from my mind, the twinge of something I felt as I had looked at Feyre’s home in the human lands, the physical proof of Tamlin taking care of them, I focused all my spare energy onto that single kindness and I watched the fog grow thicker, curling around me in a way that was so familiar.

I clutched at that feeling as I heard the screams around me grow louder. I could not run fast enough to stop the swarm of Attor like creatures that flooded the streets. I thought of Elain’s sweet face and Nestas beautiful dresses and willed my power to wrap around the creatures in front of me. If they could see me, they didn’t let it show. The only sign I had that my power had worked against them was the choked screams they let out. My sword tinged with their blood as I ran it clean through them. I pulled that black smoke into me, panting as I forced my legs to run ever faster. Reaching out for something deeper, I visualized the next swarm of them I could see and I felt the familiar pressure as I appeared in the middle of them. Shooting my power out with a force I didn’t recognize, I made quick work of them. They didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. I couldn’t focus on the blood that now stained my blade and face. Could only think of the distance between me and the bright pops of red and blue in the sky, the water I could hear roaring just ahead of me. If I had looked up I would have seen the pack of water wolves Feyre was using to chase them from the city streets and back into the air.

The tremble that took my feet out from under me was one that did not scare me. Rhys had arrived and his rage took out half of their forces. His power filled the air with a metallic scent and I did my best not to think about what the dusting of red was as it covered my skin. A second roar, far stronger than the first one spurred me on. I did not fear the darkness that slipped over my eyes, those stars and nothing short of pure night. When I could finally make out shapes again, I saw the outline of wings, not those gnarled and bony wings of the creatures attacking us, but Illyiran wings, claws fully extended. I didn’t think as I barreled towards the shape. Didn’t think as I launched myself into Azriel’s chest. His arms came to wrap around my waist, pulling me so tight to him I struggled to breath but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I gulped down whatever breath I could, filling my lungs with the scent of him. Heart hammering in time with his own wild heartbeat. The screaming had stopped, leaving only a horrifying silence in their wake. I did not let go of Azriel as he winnowed us back to the townhouse.

All of us were sitting in the living room of the house in various states of disarray. Mor’s hair was caked with dirt and flecks of blood, her eyes starting to flutter shut. Feyre was curled up next to her also looking like she was ready to fall asleep any moment.

I could see the gears in Cassian's head spinning. The general already thinking about what this means for the greater battles ahead. Obviously, the queens had sold us out to Hybern. Our home had been used as a bargaining chip and it had bit us in the ass.

My eyes flickered over to Rhys and I could tell his thoughts were in a similar spot. It wasn’t your fault. I said into his head. He flinched, a disgusted look replacing the grief for a brief second. I told them where the city was, I gave them the information freely and for the first time in centuries an outsider knows about the city and then we get attacked. How is that not my fault sister? It was my turn to flinch. With Rhys in his current mood, there was no point in trying to argue back. So I finally closed my eyes and tuned out the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. I didn’t have the energy to talk about Hybern right now. The throbbing headache behind my temples let me know just how much magic I had used today and let me know how much I needed to start hunting for ways to break this curse.

At some point Azriel had stretched out next to me on the couch, my back to his side. Half asleep, I turned to face him and just grabbed his arm. Curling around him as best as I could in our current position. Someone in the room chuckled as I settled down once again. I don’t know how much time passed as they all just sat and talked. I drifted in and out of sleep but couldn’t piece anything coherent together. At some point I felt Cassian standing over me.

“Come on let’s get you to bed.” His voice held more humor than I would expect from him after today. My eyes didn’t even open before I said.

“Move me from here and you will lose that hand.” I snuggled closer into Azriel to prove my point. The male by my side laughed a stiff laugh but wrapped his arm around me tighter. I was too tired to care about the content purr that left my chest at the motion. Too tired to care that he scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to my room. And definitely too tired to hear the three words he whispered to me as he closed my door.

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