#the last time this happened on another account she chewed me out for replying 'thank you! 💞' to someone who complimented my art

[dingusships]

The reason I am so 🧍‍♂️ about it is outwardly I am the gruff one. the Not Big On Displays Of Affection Or Enthusiasm one. the NO ROMANCE one of the household. then u go online and instead of the same art I usually show (landscapes, still lifes etc) u see art I put my soul into and cartoon men's tits

[amoebaforce]

Maybe a lil drabble of erenville and viera!wol talking abt their naturally long lifespans and outliving their non viera friends?

Yknow just some normal existential dread bggnngn

you're breaking my heart, anon.... so of course >:)

what was meant to be a drabble turned into a mini-fic, but i ain't mad at it. i took a few liberties, since Erenville has no confirmed age. hope you enjoy! :D

tags: angst, death talk (etc), viera!WoL, WoL uses they/them wc: 1.2k

It was the end of another long day in Labyrinthos. The Scions' mission had succeeded months ago, but Sharlayan researchers and gleaners were still hard at work undoing their own half-completed evacuation protocols. Thousands of artifacts and specimens had to be unpacked, re-cataloged, replaced on their shelves, returned to their habitats... not to mention the paperwork.

It was the kind of work Erenville loathed. Dull, tedious, and unfulfilling. He'd much rather be out in a field, or a jungle. Hells, even an arid desert wasteland would make for better scenery than the inside of this storage facility. At least in the wilds, there'd be a chance for something interesting to happen. By the time his supervisor cut him loose for the day, stars were already twinkling in the artificial sky. Erenville stood staring at them, chin tilted, and groaned.

Looked like he'd be heading to The Last Stand for dinner. Again.

Twenty minutes later, Erenville plopped into a seat at the edge of the cafe, so ravenous that his head was starting to spin. The nightly special glistened on his plate: Thavnairian curried hamsa. It was just the sort of spicy, hearty meal he needed to rekindle his energy after a marathon of boredom. With a thankful sigh, Erenville shoveled a bite into his mouth, then another, and another, eyes slipping closed around his fork.

But just as the gleaner settled into his meal, a familiar sound rang out across the plaza.

"Erenville!"

His eyes shot open, swiveling until they found the source of the noise: the Warrior of Light themselves, standing on the tips of their toes in the middle of the plaza. Waving to him. Erenville choked on his rice. The Warrior flitted to his table, their smile so bright it rivaled the waxing moon.

"Fancy seeing you here!" they said cheerfully. Erenville couldn't help but smile back, even as he was still suppressing a cough.

"I should say the same to you, Warrior," he replied. "I thought for sure you were busy with the satrap."

"I am! But there's a project here that requires my attention, too." They made a show of looking over their shoulders, as if to check for eavesdroppers, then leaned over the table with a mischievous look on their face. "It's something for Tataru."

"Ah," Erenville chuckled. "Say no more, my friend." The two shared a knowing laugh.

"Say, I have an hour or two to kill before I'm due elsewhere. May I join you?" the Warrior asked. Erenville nodded, gesturing to the seat across the table. "Thanks. And don't stop eating on my account! I've heard they've been working you lot to the bone."

Erenville gave a little grimace, unable to deny their claim. He spooned another bite into his mouth, reminding himself to chew slower now that he was in polite company.

"Where'd you hear that from?" the gleaner asked.

"Krile. She said Labyrinthos is a proper mess right now."

"Hmph. I wouldn't call it a mess, but... Well, I guess me eating dinner after dark is a good indicator of how it's going."

"Fair. At least the food looks good," the Warrior offered, tilting their head sympathetically.

"It is good," Erenville admitted. "A little paler than the stuff you'd get in Radz-at-Han, but decent enough."

A strange twinkle passed through the Warrior's vibrant eyes, and the tell-tale twitching of their ears betrayed amusement. Erenville shot them a pointed glance. For the first time all day, a smirk curled at his lips.

"What's so funny, then?" he asked them.

"Nothing," the Warrior hummed. "It's just... For a moment, I forgot how well-traveled you are. That's silly, isn't it, considering your line of work? I mean, you've visited places I've never even heard of."

Erenville laughed. "The opposite is true, too."

"Ha! Fair enough, my friend." They paused, smile flickering briefly downward. "I guess I forget that other people have had just as many adventures as me."

Something about their tone sent an apprehensive prickle down Erenville's spine. It was the same kind of feeling he got when he was standing before a locked door, key in hand, wondering what he'd find when he finally crossed the threshold.

"Not many people," he said. "You and I are luckier than most."

"Of course. Our chosen professions are both... unconventional. To put it lightly. They take us places we'd never go otherwise."

Erenville took another bite and chewed it slowly. "Aye, you're right about that. But even if we were regular people, working regular jobs, we'd still have a better chance of seeing the world than most."

The Warrior's brow furrowed. "Why's that?"

The gleaner took a sip of his water. Washed the taste of curry from his tongue.

"Because we're Viera."

He watched the Warrior's eyes drift to the empty space between them, bottom lip tucked between their teeth.

"Right," they said quietly. "Of course. We have... more time."

Their expression went glassy in an instant, and Erenville knew he'd made a mistake. Guilt twisted through him painfully, screwing his expression even tighter.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. "I wasn't thinking. I forgot all your friends are..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood."

"No, no," the Warrior insisted, ears jerking upright to emphasize their words. "It's okay. I mean, it is sad, but... It's the truth."

The pair exchanged a long look, silent yet full of meaning. They had not grown up together, but Erenville saw in the Warrior the same clawing, festering fear that he himself carried. He saw it in every other untethered and outcast Viera he met.

"Has it happened to you?" the Warrior asked, daring to break the silence. "Losing someone."

Erenville swallowed air, his mouth sandpaper. "Yes. Once."

"...My condolences."

"Thank you. It was a long time ago." He smiled bleakly. "Another lifetime."

The Warrior gave a mirthless snort. "I don't know what I will do. When the time comes."

"Neither did I. But the time came anyway."

"It always does."

Erenville nodded, memories dancing in the wings of his mind. Urging him back in time, to a terrible moment he could not bear to relive. Not now. He shook the feeling away, focusing instead on the friend before him. One of the few people on this planet who shared his plight.

"They will tell you not to mourn," he said. "Especially the hyurs -- they always say that. You'll mourn anyway. It's only natural. But eventually, things will not hurt so badly, and life will go on. You'll find pieces of them everywhere you go. You'll tell their stories to generations they'll never see. And your memories will last as long as you do."

The Warrior of Light wiped a tear from their eye.

"Well, I suppose we are lucky, then," they sniffed. Erenville clapped an encouraging hand on their forearm.

"That's the spirit. Now, come, you have to tell me all about your business with the satrap. And all the Hannish gossip you've heard, too."

The Viera laughed, feeling the knots in their stomachs come undone.

"Of course," the Warrior agreed. "But after that, I want to hear a story about your old friend."

Erenville smiled. "It would be my pleasure."

[amara-scott]

Movie: Divergent Characters: Eric Coulter x f!Reader Categories: Anger, Fluff, Eric

“Again.” Another jump, down to the ground, push up followed by another jump. Kick, kick, uppercut, hook. My hands fall to my knees, hunched over I try to gulp down the pain in my burning throat. I don’t know if it’s tears or sweat but it’s covering my hot face.

“Again.” He sounds more and more stern. I blink a couple times, standing up straight and am about to do the whole circuit for the- what, 40th time? I lost count long ago. My bones shake and muscles ache. It’s past the point where only numbness is left and I am scared I won’t feel anything anymore after I am done today. If I will ever be done. If he lets me.

I jump and am about to go down to the ground, my hands planted on the cool mat, feet ready to kick back into a plank but my arms shake before they give out and I fall to the ground face first. The ground cooling my cheek. I close my eyes and only hear my breathing, it's loud. Just as my thumping heart. Sweat stinging my eyes now.

“What are you doing?”

My eyes snap open at that question and I feel full of rage and hate. Just- frustration spreading inside every fiber of my being.

I twist my head around, supporting myself on my elbows. “Taking a break maybe?” I say, trying not to sound ironic or rude- but I do. I really don’t care though. I am past the point of just sucking it up.

“What did you say?” He challenges, his cold orbs boring into mine as he folds his arms and shifts in his stance, glaring down at me. His lips twitching into a not so amused smile before sneering down at me.

“I said- taking a break, maybe.” I repeat and twist, sitting with my knees angled up, placing my arms atop. Eyes now down between my legs on the ground. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. He still is a leader. Someone I should respect and who's orders I have to follow.

“Stand up, now.” I sigh with closed eyes and stand back up, looking at his arms, chewing my lower lip.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

I gulp and look up, trying not to forget to breathe. My heart calmed down but once I meet his eyes, my heart rate picks right back up.

“You’re not here to take breaks. You understand?” I nod quickly, not really having enough energy to even form words. He keeps silent for a moment longer, knowing that I struggle to keep up the eye contact. He smirks at the end, moving his head a bit closer, leaning forward.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time." I force myself not to close my eyes and sigh in frustration.

"-Actually, for the rest of the month. Every day.” My eyes grow a bit wider and I want to reply, talk back- but he just raises his pierced eyebrow, daring me. I gulp down my pride and nod once.

“Go.” His jaw is clenched and I quickly, dizzily grab my bottle and move past him, walking quickly.

Why, of all people, does he hate me so much? Am I doing that bad? I didn’t feel like I was. I rarely lost a fight and Four even complimented me after a few. I can’t say the same about Eric though. He never spoke. Only to correct or mock. Nothing kind ever left his lips.

With a sigh I fall into bed after my shower, not even in the mood to go get any food. I’ll just eat more tomorrow at breakfast. My eyes sealed shut and I doze off.

Eric is back at it, yelling at an initiate for losing and telling them to go back to the punching bags. He scoffs and turns around, his eyes wandering around the room and landing on me. I quickly turn away, holding the knife tightly between my fingers and focusing on the target ahead. The clashing of knifes the only sound I hear until he stands next to me.

“Throw it.” He commands and I take another deep breath, throwing and hoping I hit anything. But the knife just bounces off the wall and lands at the bottom of the target.

“Pathetic. Go get the knife.” I whip my head around and look at him with wide eyes.

“You mean- right now?”

“No, after practice. Of course now, go!” I flinch as he ends his sentence and turn back around, looking to the side as a couple people stop and watch.

“Did I say stop? Keep going, all of you.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before taking a deep breath and not looking back as a few knives land in my way, only making me stop a few times. Don’t look back- don’t look back- don’t-

A knife whips right past my ear, I feel the wind brushing my hair away and I stop, watching it emerge from the target I practiced at. I grab the knife off the ground and turn around. Eric standing there with another knife in hand and throwing it up a couple times.

“Next time I won’t miss.” I can’t move my legs after that and Eric frowns, sticking the sharp weapon into the wooden box it’s usually stored in.

“Come on, get back here. You’re not done practicing.”

I want to say anything but I can’t, my feet also glued to the ground. I want to lift anything but I’m frozen.

“(Y/N)? Come on.”

“(Y/N)?”

“Stand up, hey!”

I gasp, sitting up in bed, breathing heavily.

"You looked exhausted, I just wanted to let you sleep longer." Emma sits down next on my bed, giving me a sad smile.

"Thanks, I probably needed that." I mumble, clearing my throat and sit up next to her, head in my hands.

"I brought you some food, don't tell anyone." She whispers and unpacks a sandwich and an apple, handing both to me.

"Wow, thanks, you're amazing." I side hug her, taking the food and gulping everything down with water. Emma giggles watching me and stands back up.

"You shouldn't eat so fast, you'll get a stomach ache- we have to be in the training room in ten." She turns around, smiling one last time and walking off to join some others on their way to the training room.

I sigh, remembering what will happen after training. The dream- it felt so real.

I get ready quickly, jogging down the hall and entering through the tall doors. Everyone is gathering in a circle and I join in, blending into the back of the group to maybe not get noticed.

"This week will be all about your aim. Especially throwing knives and shooting guns." I roll my eyes, shaking my head to myself. This is ridiculous.

"Any complains?" My eyes shoot over to Eric, who's stare is fixed on me for a second longer before wandering around the group. Some are shaking their heads or mumbling no. He saw my expression. I will suffer even more today. If that's even possible.

"Let's get ready then, the targets are back at the wall, pic one and start throwing." Four tells us and we make our way to the targets. I jog up to Emma, sending her a smile.

"You think you're any good at this?" She asks and I shrug.

"Well it's not like I would have a lot of experience so- I can just hope."

"I actually did throw knives a lot back in Amity." I frown, my eyes boring into the side of her face as she smirks.

"Well, more in my head but still. Not the first time I'm thinking about it. Maybe that helps." I chuckle and shove her lightly, both of us finding a spot and trying out the knives, holding them, turning them.

"You have to take multiple aspects into account when throwing a knife. The weight, size and distance to your target. Have a go." Four says and starts pacing behind us hands behind his back and observing. I glance around more, trying to find the piercing blue eyes and I find them, a few steps further down the line but he turns, as if he felt me watching him.

I get ready and try to mimic someone who just hit their target. Legs steady, slightly parted- arm leaning back and then- I close my eyes until I hear a clashing sound. The knife fell down, not even close to the target. Wow.

I try a few more times and get closer and even hit the target but the knife never sticks fully.

"What are you doing?" I flinch at his voice, nearly dropping the knife in my hand. I turn to the side, watching Eric.

"Trying to hit the target?" It sound more like a question as I'm not in the mood to come off as a smart ass or the ironic bitch I usually am.

"Well, you're not doing a great job then." He states and I nod, agreeing with him. There is a small pause before he raises an eyebrow with folded arms.

"Could you maybe- help me out?" I say before thinking about what I actually just said. I hear Emma snorting beside me, trying to cover it up with a cough. Eric's eyes find her for a second before coming back to me.

"Turn around." I frown but quickly follow his order.

"Angle your hips." I shift, one foot forward the other further back, trying to stand sturdy.

"Further." His hands find my waist and he twists it more, my breath hitching as I glance down at his fingers sitting atop my hips.

"Look up." He says, his breath hitting my neck before he steps back again. I focus on the target, reaching my arm back and twisting my shoulders.

"Don't just reach your wrist back. The whole arm." He pulls at my elbow, correcting my stance and I feel my skin burning from where he touched me. My skin tingling.

"Twist your whole body while throwing. Full force." I take another deep breath and do as I'm told yelling out this time, not closing my eyes, too curious if it changed anything.

It did. I hit the target. It sticks. I grin and turn to Eric- but he's already gone further down. I turn back forward and want to do it again. And again.

Maybe I'm actually looking forward to after-practice today.

_________________________________ More Divergent Imagines Full Masterlist

[say-narry]

Note: English isn’t my first language. Hope you all like it. Please, give me your opinion with a reblog, fav or a note in my askbox :)

pairing: Louis!peaky blinders era x reader

warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex (don't do that!), curse words, daddy kink, overstimulation, dirt talk, mention of jealousy, mention of astrology.

Words: 4k

talk with me | masterlist

Astrology

In my spare time I loved to read about astrology. It was a habit I adhered to since I was a teenager and now as an adult, it was my secret cringe.

So many times, the things described there met the personality traits of someone I knew and that made me believe it even more.

Sure, there were some holes in the script, but I had been in this world forever, so I just ignored that and kept it as a supposed truth and that was only affirmed when I met Louis.

Friends in common, I liked the way his accent sounded, a few drinks here and there, we shared the lighter to light the cigarette and ended up kissing at the end of the party at Calvin's house.

That was a year ago now.

I already knew all his quirks and as Louis lived more at my place than at his mansion here in London, he had to follow my rules, which was a little difficult even though he is Capricorn. Lately it was complicated to deal with him, because he seemed to ignore me and my weekly horoscope had already said that my relationship would be shaken by the smallest things and that I should be careful.

"Babe, don't leave your shoes like that. I already asked for them!" I complained as I placed our shoes side by side by the door. This was one of his manners that annoyed me deeply. "My friends will be here soon!"

"Nah." he muttered, not even looking at me.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, going to check the cheese and chocolate fondue I was preparing.

My friends Peter, Anne, Sam and Paul were coming over for happy hour. I am on vacation at work, an accounting office, so this is a perfect opportunity to hear what's new.

"Babe, is there any way to go to that grocery store down the street? I forgot that Anne has a gluten allergy and forgot to buy the gluten-free bagel." I stirred the melted cheese in the small pot on the stove.

No response from Louis.

Because my house is small, there's no way he couldn't hear me. I stretched my body back a little and in my half vision through the door, I could see that Louis was still concentrating on the smartphone game while gnawing on the corner of his left thumb.

I took another deep breath, it seemed that Louis became a child watching the games on the device and this was another flaw of his sign's characteristic, however I knew he was loyal and domineering, which eventually gave me an idea.

I turned off the stove and wrapped the fondues, putting them in the electric oven in warm-up mode so that they would not cool down.

My friends would arrive in half an hour, it was time to put my idea into practice.

I grabbed my purse, checked the pounds in my wallet, put on a sweatshirt and ran to the door.

"Luv, where are you going?" Louis asked without looking at me.

"Grocery store, babe." I put on my moccasins and closed the door.

It was dusk and for a change London was cold, for as soon as I passed the small gate in my driveway I sped to the grocery store.

As luck would have it, I found the guys a few meters from my house and ran to hug them.

"How are you, Y/N?" Sam, the blond girl with freckles and green eyes asked me as she released me from her hug.

"Fine! But I need a little help from all of you, specifically you, Paul and Anne." I pointed to them, who were inches away from me.

My couple of friends looked at me, Paul was a tall man with blue eyes, a muscular body and a beard. He was dating Anne, a tall, beautiful black woman with curly hair and honey-brown eyes with a mouth to envy.

"What happened?" Anne asked.

I explained to them that Louis seemed to be ignoring me as if I was just someone else working for him, but that he was the dominating type and so I wanted to tease him and see if we should continue with this relationship or if he was just distracted.

"I swear it won't go any further than that, I love Louis very much but this is killing me." I held the brown paper bag against me.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Peter suggested.

"Louis is a Capricorn, you know how it is. When he focuses on something, that's it." I rolled my eyes.

"That's fine with me, it will be fun watching a music star want to kill me because his wife wants me." Paul grabbed the bag from my hands and winked at me, and we laughed.

"It's fine with me too, you know I find it sexy to see men jealous." Anne winked at Paul, who closed his face, causing us to let out a few more low chuckles.

"I think there's a way we can help too." Sam put his arm around my neck and held Peter by the waist.

I had the best friends in the world.

"He simply came in halfway through the meeting with a huge mark on his neck. Emily wanted to climb the walls!" Peter commented on our co-worker.

We were all sitting on the floor of the room with the creams and fondue mixes on the coffee table. Louis was on my right side with black sweatpants and the jacket I loved so much, Paul was on my left side, next to him was Anne followed by Peter and Sam.

"But we know why Tom's nights out..." Sam looked at me suggestively and then looked at Anne. I straightened up waiting for what was to come.

Louis followed the conversation, sometimes hugging me around the waist and offering me something to eat. I just helped myself to a glass of red wine.

"Why?" Anne asked as if she didn't understand.

"Oh, you know, since the S/N went on vacation he has been gloomy, seems to have forgotten how to do calculations on the spreadsheets, and gets sad at lunchtime." Sam replied, alternating his gaze between Louis and me.

Louis, who was serving himself a piece of bread and cheese, grimaced, but said nothing.

"It's true, we know he's not over it yet."

I had the glass in my mouth trying to hold back the laugh I wanted to give.

"Get over what?" Louis asked me with a frown and I arched my shoulders, pretending not to know what they were referring to.

"Tom is in love with Y/N, Louis. Ever since she came to the office, he only has eyes for her." Anne answered by pouring herself some strawberry slices and pouring the melted chocolate on top. "You know, alluring and attractive men don't get over it so easily when they are dumped by a beautiful woman."

My eyes were watering from holding back tears of laughter. It was funny to imagine this situation, since Tom was a very well married gentleman, father of three children, and would soon be a grandfather.

"I'm going to get some more wine." I pushed myself to get up, because I needed to release the laughter that was stuck in me.

"I'll get it, babe." Paul took the glass from my hand, passing his hand through mine and stood up.

"Oh, thank you Paulie!" I smiled and sat back down.

Louis's face was red, he chewed angrily and stared at me. His blue eyes fixed on me in an uncomfortable way, as if he were reading my thoughts.

"What's up, babe?" I asked as Anne, Sam and Peter talked among themselves, I tried to stroke his face but he turned away.

"Nothing." he nodded, and I narrowed my eyes.

Paul returned with my full glass, I took it and thanked him again. Since I was sitting only on the carpet, I decided to do a little stretching. Purposefully, Paul looked at the open buttons of my black blouse that was thin and skinny long. Unconsciously, it was tighter than I usually wore which highlighted my breasts covered by the bra.

Louis seemed to notice, he huffed and ran his hand through his hair. I just ignored him and pretended to pay attention to my friends' conversation.

I felt his arm going around my shoulders and a few kisses on my neck, and I simply held myself together not to react, but it was so good his affection.

"We were talking about Tom before and now I remembered, can you believe that every day he comes into your office and wipes down your desk and computer?" Sam was sharp in the theater, I just wanted to thank her for that.

"And I'll tell you something else, he takes his shoes off before he comes in. " Peter continued.

Broadway was losing these actors to an accounting office. Louis leaned back on one of the sofas and crossed his arms with a brave expression.

"Tom has always been very nice to me." I commented, swirling the rest of the wine in my glass. "But I don't know..."

"I don't know, Y/N?" Louis spoke a little louder, turning his face abruptly to me.

"Yes, Tom is a nice guy but he is the kind of guy who ignores things I say, he was not organized and sometimes we almost missed deadlines... If he is like that at work, who will say to have a relationship with him."

I drank the rest of the wine and almost saw Louis erupt.

"Nothing beyond that stays between you?" I looked at Sam, who put his hand over his mouth, holding back his laughter, as did Anne, Paul, and Peter.

"Nah. " I repeated Louis' murmur from earlier and repeated his motion, leaning back against the couch behind me.

He ran his fingers through his bangs and chuckled gracelessly, denying it with his head. I narrowed my eyes in surprise at his reaction.

"It's getting late isn't it? Want some help cleaning up, petal?" Paul stroked my arm.

"I'll help my girl, Paulie." Louis imitated my voice when I called him and stared at Paul's hand on my arm, moving his mouth as if he were dissatisfied.

We talked some more, Louis was still silent and crossed his arms, his legs intertwined with each other and swinging rapidly.

I knew that Louis was about to explode, so I said goodbye to the guys who thanked me for the evening. Paul gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. They motioned for me to tell them by text what was going to happen, I silently agreed and closed the door.

Louis had gotten up and was removing things from the coffee table. I started to organize the room and finished taking the last dishes to the sink.

"You and this Tom guy, have you ever had anything?" Louis was sponging one of the dishes. His sleeves were rolled up, which gave me a view of the tattoos on his wrist that I liked so much.

I poured myself the rest of the wine and leaned back against the sink where he was standing.

"We only went out together once." Which was true, but it was with the rest of the office and nothing happened because his wife accompanied us and I saw him as a father or even an uncle. I would stay in my tantrum, yes, he was the one who should end his.

"Hm." Louis answered.

"Why the question?"

Louis remained silent, washing the dishes as if it were the most fun thing in the world.

"Louis? If I asked a question, I want an answer." I said angrily, tired of the tantrum.

He continued in silence. I took a deep breath trying to oxygenate my brain and continued to stare at him.

I drank the rest of the wine and left the glass in the sink. I walked slowly to the door, still trying to remain calm.

"Where are you going?" Louis asked.

I just turned and smiled, raising my two middle fingers in his direction.

"Fuck you!" I shouted nervously, pointing at him.

Without waiting for his response, I headed towards my room, but within three steps I felt something pulling me, two cold, wet hands.

Louis might be shorter than most men, but he still possessed great strength.

In one swift movement, I felt him turn me around and my back hit the wall to my right and my head bounced, causing me to grunt in pain.

Louis pressed his body against mine, my hands went up to push his chest.

"I don't want to talk, Louis." I said annoyed, almost in tears already.

"What's up, luv? Your babe wants to know... "Louis brushed his nose across my neck, soon after caressing my face by turning and pulling it slightly to the opposite side, my eyes automatically closed."What were those teasing things earlier?"

My body stiffened, I couldn't hide anything from him.

"Let go of me. " I asked, still pushing him slightly, but it came out more like a groan.

Louis let out a small laugh and began to distribute wet kisses down my neck, sometimes my body betrayed me and shivered.

Louis's right hand, which previously held my waist, lifted my blouse to gain access to the skin of my belly and with a rush, held my right breast, massaging it lovingly.

"I'm sure my girl is getting wet..." His warm breath hitched against the cartilage of my left ear. "You like to tease me by showing off those luscious breasts, but in the end you're all mine, aren't you?"

I groaned as if in agreement. My hands, which before had been pushing her breasts, had moved to her back, scratching the white fabric.

"Who's my little whore? Hm?" His teeth went to my jaw, scraping it lightly, and then down to my neck where I felt pressure being applied.

Oh, hell! He was marking me.

"I-I-I..." I answered weakly and brushed my crotch against his.

My body arched and I held on to his arms, I could already feel the throbbing in between my legs as they buckled.

"My silly little girl!" He moved a few inches away from me and I opened my eyes, staring at Louis's long lashes in front of his blue orbs that were almost covered by his dilated pupils. "I saw what you did with the whole Tom and Paulie thing."

When I regained consciousness, I bit my lower lip and smiled mischievously, returning my hands to his back.

"What are you going to do about it, stud?" I teased.

Louis's hands went around my waist as he made a point of kissing me fiercely and hotly. My hands grabbed his face, pulling him to me, afraid that he would just stop and leave me there, hot and needy for his touch.

His hands went down to unbutton my jeans and unzip me. I let out a moan in anticipation and I could feel him smile in the middle of the kiss.

Louis pulled away from me and spun me around, placing me face down against the wall.

"Louis..." I moaned softly, thrusting my ass toward him.

I felt his pelvis fit over my ass and his member was already hardening, I tried to make more contact, but his hands on my waist stopped me.

"I know, luv... I want you too." I felt his chest against my back as I closed my eyes and rested my head on the wall and pressed my hands against it, trying to support myself. "I want to feel your pussy squeezing my cock as I fuck you very slowly, because I know you like to feel my cock pulsing in you."

I was already dizzy, biting my lower lip trying to hide my moans, until Louis pulled away and his hands hooked on the hem of my jeans and pulled them down.

"Spread your legs, Darlin'"

I did as he cried out, with a little difficulty because my jeans were still binding my legs and the state of my panties was embarrassing.

His hand slid up and down my ass, and then slapped me with his open hand, which made me jump in surprise.

"My girl doesn't like to be neglected, huh?" Shivers ran through me, my breathing was heavy and my brows furrowed and more slaps came, making my skin burn and my eyes water. "You get needy for my cock when I don't fuck you, don't you?"

In one swift act, my panties were keeping company with my jeans. I pushed my hips even higher, rubbing one leg against the other in an effort to relieve the agony my clit felt.

"Daddy will take care of you, luv!" I heard some noises and then the glorious sensation of Louis's hot tongue running over my pussy.

"Louis!" I moaned loudly and his breath hitched against my exposed intimacy as he let out a laugh. His hands grabbed my thighs and spread them even further apart, leaving me wide open for him.

Louis's tongue ran from my sensitive spot to my entrance, sucking and licking. I swayed my hips trying to get closer, but whenever I did he laughed and ran just the tip of it all the way over. My eyes rolled back and a vibration came in the pit of my stomach.

He didn't last long there, but the sound of my wetness clicking on his tongue was something out of reality.

"Babe, please..." My right arm kept pushing against the wall while my left was bent and I massaged my breasts, trying to relieve myself somehow.

"What's wrong, kitten?" Louis groaned and blew against me.

I turned my head to the side and Louis had stood up, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and his white jacket, and threw them on the floor beside us.

"Daddy..." I murmured.

Louis' member was hard, and with the glans of his member shiny and pink, his left hand wrapped around it, going up and down slowly. Louis stroked my ass with his free hand, his lower lip was biting and his head eventually fell back as he sighed.

He knew how sexy I found the veins in his hands tensing up and showing as he played with his cock. The tattoos on his wrist added a special touch.

"Lucky for you I want to get it over with, luv... Otherwise you'd have to beg me to fuck you..." He spoke as his cock touched me, dragging and teasing me, making me almost fall to my knees on the floor. "I'm going to fuck your little pussy so hard, babe? I want to hear you moan for the rest of the night, do you want to feel my cock all the way in here?" His finger ran across my entrance, giving me mini shocks in that area.

I mumbled the only sound left in my throat. I turned my face forward and leaned my forehead against the wall. He knew how much I melted for his dirt talk.

My arm against the wall was aching, my forehead was sweaty, and my legs were almost giving way from the way they trembled.

Louis launched himself inside me without warning, burying his wet member until his balls slammed against my clit.

A scream tore through my throat, my nails digging into the wall. Louis didn't even give me time to get used to it, he immediately began thrusting against me. Back and forth, thrusting hard and trying to go all the way in. I was panting as was he, my eyes still closed, enjoying his member filling me.

I turned my face to the side opening my eyes and I could cum right there at the sight, my heart throbbed even more seeing Louis with his nails digging into my hips, his tattooed chest and arms tensed tightly and his head relaxed back with his mouth ajar.

"Fuck!" My eyelids fluttered and I could feel the anguish in my uterus rising.

"My girl is so hot, so warm and tight ... oh!" Louis went down again and if it wasn't for the euphoria, I could feel him almost ripping me in half with his cock slamming against my uterus.

I tilted my head back and one of Louis' hands grabbed my loose hair and formed a sort of ponytail. His hand forced my neck, causing my body to arch and my ass to bulge even more.

My back began to ache as his hipbones crashed against my muscles, he had never caught me this way before and I was already addicted to it. Louis let go of my hair and went back to kneading the sides of my hips.

I put my arm in front of me and bit down on it, feeling my face hit him lightly with the thrusts, my throat aching with the moans, and Louis murmured my name as he tried to sink even deeper inside me.

"Whose pussy is this, babe? Who fucks it hard and the way you like it?" Louis, still not stopping his thrusts, rotated his hips and a wave of ecstasy hit me at the cervix. My pussy clenching rapidly, I was getting there. Louis fucked me so fast that I couldn't even scream.

"You, babe! Only you, Louis!" I spoke softly and felt him kiss me on my back.

"Are you sure, babygirl?" Louis teased and again I felt his chest against my spine.

His cock was halfway out of me and seconds later I was already missing him, which didn't last long as I pushed my hips back against him, burying his cock back into me. I stood on my tiptoes and his member reached the hidden spot that Louis sometimes managed to reach.

"Come on my cock, babe! Because I'm going to mark you, fill you with my milk... Do you want it, my naughty little girl?"

My breath came out of my lungs in a sharp intake of breath. My body exploded inside, shuddering as Louis forced himself to orgasm. Small jolts ran through me, and the ground no longer seemed to be beneath my feet.

My man's nails sank into my skin, his thrusts became sloppy and a loud moan came from Louis' chest, his cock swelled even more inside me and I felt hot spurts fill me, joining my liquid. He groaned loudly and his hands gripped my waist tightly, easing the grip seconds later. Violent trembling came over my knees, causing me to close my eyes in shame as Louis continued inside me and hugged me from behind.

"What's up, Luv? Did I hurt you?" He pushed my hair away from my sweaty, flushed face. Louis kissed the top of my head and I could feel some shocks from the orgasm still being delivered and the delicious feeling of having him inside me.

I nodded positively and then negatively, answering his questions.

"Sorry about the last few days, I was so distracted, thinking about the new album, and then I realized that I didn't do the right thing to the point where my perfect girl insinuated herself to our friend and they talked about some guy at work."

"How did you find out?" I lay my face against the wall, feeling the frosty, chilling cold on my face. I was tired, almost closing my eyes.

"I know you, darlin'... You can't lie, your sign says so."

I covered my face in shame that he knew my shameful secret. Louis pulled his member out of me and already I felt it go limp, Louis tightened his embrace around my buttocks and his arms wrapped around mine, tucking me in.

"Thanks for not giving up on your Capricorn. He'll pay more attention to his girl."

I nodded and turned around, kissing him slowly, feeling his tongue caress mine calmly and tenderly. He was everything to me, giving him up would be the last thing I would ever do.

I pulled away still hugging him and could see his sweaty bangs.

"Thanks for the sex against the wall, it was amazing." I blinked, placing a kiss on his chin.

"Maybe tomorrow you'll rethink it." His face turned into a smile, kissing my cheeks.

I stared at him even longer, not understanding his statement.

"Uh... I may or may not have left some... marks." He gave me his best puppy dog face, squeezed my ass, and kissed my neck lightly.

I rolled my eyes eagerly to see these possible marks.

"All right, they're marks from my Capricorn..." I said, kissing him and jumping on his lap. "But if you ignore me again, you won't have sex against the wall or anywhere else." I shook his shoulder to get his attention and he agreed.

"No more Capricorn stuff!" He promised, raising his right hand.

Astrology thing or not, I loved the guy standing in front of me.

[musical-shit-show]

could have danced all night

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) #14 (“when i’m not with you, it’s almost like…i can’t breathe.”) and #41 (“i may or may not have left some…marks.”) Warnings: sexual references, kissing, meddling siblings, fluffy fluff Word Count: 3,733 Author’s Note: This is my first request! Big shout out to @acmbooksandfilm​ for sending this in, I had a lot of fun writing it. Also, apologies on it taking a bit to get out, writing has gotten difficult as my real adult job has slowly turned my brain to mush. But, if you would still like to send in a request, feel free! My DMs and Askbox is always open, even though it may take a little longer to complete requests. And as always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists. Thanks for all the love on my other one shots and enjoy!

“Colin, enough,” Benedict huffed as he threw on his shiny black tailcoat, “Surely you have better things to do than pester me about my love life.” Anthony, Benedict, and Colin often crossed paths when getting ready for the numerous events of the season, and now the younger Bridgerton brother was doing everything to get on his elder sibling’s last nerve.

“I’m merely pointing out the obvious, Benedict,” Colin said smugly, straightening his cravat as he looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but flash a mischievous smile at his reflection, “Practically everyone in the ton knows about you two, what’s the harm in proposing?”

“What on God’s green earth are you two talking about?” Anthony strode into the room, closing the door in the likely event that Colin said something inappropriate and scandalized one of their younger sisters or, heaven forbid, their mother.

Benedict couldn’t help but flush. Yes, he was close enough with his brothers to discuss all matters surrounding women, but it felt wrong for him to talk about you. Especially when your relationship wasn’t meant to be any sort of relationship whatsoever.

It had started out innocently enough; you had been close with his younger sister Eloise and Penelope Featherington for years, acting as surrogate older sister on account of you being several years older than them. You were also friendly with Daphne and Simon Bassett, and often had tea with the pair when they weren’t off performing their duties as the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.

In truth, you knew Benedict the least out of the Bridgertons who had or were close to coming of age, and was shocked when he requested to have his name written on your dance card at the first ball of the season. When it came time to dance, you had expected Benedict to act shy at first; but after some coaxing from you, he won you over almost instantly with his wit and humor.

He only asked to dance with you once more at that particular event, not wanting to be improper. However, it was clear from the way the two of you looked at each other that there was a spark.

“No one,” Benedict said, almost too quickly, “Our brother is just sticking his nose into affairs that aren’t his own, as usual.” Anthony rolled his eyes, thoroughly unamused by his younger siblings’ bickering. The three of them strode down the stairs of their home and seized a carriage so that the conversation could continue in private.

“So…” Colin drawled, “It is an affair, then?”

“You know that’s not what I meant at all.”

“A slip of the tongue, perhaps? You know, brother, you must choose your words more carefully—"

“Mark my words, Colin Bridgerton; I will kill you in this very carriage if—”

“Will the two of you, please,” Anthony huffed, feeling a migraine coming on, “Benedict, is this about who I think it is about…?” Colin nodded fervently, but Benedict remained stone-faced. He hated keeping things from his family, especially his brothers. But he couldn’t risk tarnishing your name, not after what had transpired between you two.

It wasn’t meant to happen. When Benedict had snuck off one night to another one of Sir Granville’s soirées, he was shocked to see you there, wearing a tightly-laced corset, undergarments, and practically nothing else. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened to the size of your mother’s best teacup saucers. Without thinking, you grabbed him and pulled him into the nearest empty room.

“Benedict, wha—what are you doing here?!” he remembered you asking him, utterly flustered. His eyes drifted to the sheer robe draped over your shoulders, the fabric floating gently with your every movement.

“I could very well ask you the same question!” he attempted to whisper, now distracted by how your corset pushed up your bosom considerably, “How do you even know about these, um, parties?” For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of what to say as Benedict’s pale blue eyes bore into yours.

You sighed, resigning to come clean, “Genevieve—Madame Delacroix—she told me about them. I confided in her about my father’s money troubles,” you felt the tears start to well up, but could not bear to cry in front of Benedict in the state you found yourself in, “I barely have any money for a dowry to find a suitable husband, and Genevieve and Sir Granville are familiar so…I work when I can and just make the guests feel comfortable—you know, offer them drinks, tobacco, the like—but I provide nothing more than hospitality.”

You felt that you needed to make that distinction to Benedict. Though you suspected that any chance with him was gone now that he had discovered your secret, you wanted to at least maintain part of your reputation, “Granville is generous enough and I could not be more grateful,” you continued, pulling the nearly translucent robe tightly around your body, “And these parties are so secretive that I thought, perhaps, I could scrounge enough money together before the end of the season before I was discovered. Clearly not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly, but Benedict stared at you, his expression earnest, “You need not worry about that,” he breathed, “I won’t tell a soul.” You absentmindedly bit your bottom lip, chewing nervously on a bit of broken skin. Could he really be trusted? Yes, you had crossed paths over the last few weeks, exchanging pleasantries and the occasional flirtatious glance, but would Benedict be able to keep your secret?

“Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied coyly, deciding that you didn’t have a choice in the matter, “Perhaps I will be able to repay you one day.” A sly smile spread across Benedict’s face, his eyes flickering to the locked door. Though the party was continuing on the other side, you two had remained virtually undisturbed.

Feeling bold, he traced his fingers over your collarbone, instantly sending a chill down your spine, “Perhaps…you could repay me now?” he posited, trying his best not to sound like a complete and utter rake, “Only if you wish to, of course.” Despite your best efforts, you could feel a palpable spark that had been building between the two of you over the past few weeks. And you had grown tired of restraining your impulses any longer.

Gently, you placed a soft kiss on his lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and Benedict cupped your face with his hand, his grip surprisingly tender. His free arm wrapped around your body smoothly, pulling you flush against him. You frantically thought through the consequences of someone discovering you with a Bridgerton, but you were too preoccupied with removing Benedict’s clothing to pay much mind…

“Benedict!” Anthony snapped his younger brother out of his reverie as the carriage slowed to a stop, “Would you get your head out of the clouds and tell me what’s going on?” Benedict stared at him, utterly panic stricken. He had kept your secret for nearly a month now, and during that time the two of you had gotten even closer, both in the eyes of the ton and after nightfall in your bedchamber.

Benedict’s mind almost drifted to the night he had shared with you only hours before, but focused on the task at hand, “You needn’t worry your pretty little head, brother,” he said coolly, “I have it all under control.” Anthony looked as if he were going to be sick, and Colin smiled with devilish glee. The three brothers clamored out of the carriage and made their way into the bustling ballroom, more of their family trailing close behind.

Benedict could hear Eloise whine as Lady Bridgerton attempted to smooth down her hair, and he felt a small pang of guilt for not coming to his sister’s aid against their mother’s incessant prodding. But now, he had more pressing matters at hand; namely, what in the hell he was going to say to you now that his brothers were onto him.

He spotted you from across the hall, his heart fluttering with every step he took in your direction. He noticed that you were wearing an intricately laced shawl that was tied tightly across your chest, completely covering your collarbone and much of your breast. Benedict felt himself frown slightly, then immediately scold himself for being improper at a society function; surely, you need not show your bosom to the entire ton in order to draw the eye of him and a number of other suitors.

You were conversing with Penelope and Lady Featherington when he finally approached you, eyes wide with fear, “Hello,” he said politely, giving a slight nod to Penelope and her mother, “Is there a spot open for my name on your card?” You quirked an eyebrow, giving him a smirk as you removed the card from your wrist.

“Why of course, Mr. Bridgerton,” you replied in an equally cordial manner. Heaven forbid Portia Featherington get a whiff of your affair; you’d be certain your name would be splashed across Lady Whistledown’s pamphlet before you’d wake the next morning, “In fact, you are the first gentleman to ask, so you may have the first dance. If you are not otherwise engaged, that is.” He shook his head and his eyes gleamed as he returned your card to your delicately gloved hand.

Despite his anxiety being astronomically high, Benedict was delighted that he was able to dance with you so early in the evening. He always thought of you as a fluid dancer, light on your feet as the two of you would glide across the ballroom. He often found himself not being able to take his eyes off you, the lively music and judgmental crowd fading away the moment he embraced you.

More importantly, he wanted to speak to you about the precarious situation you found yourselves in. It was only a matter of time until either Anthony or Colin pried the truth out of him, and he wouldn’t let the news spread across all of London society, besmirching your good name. He cared about you too much to allow such a wretched thing to happen.  

A few moments later, all of the couples were signaled that the first dance was to begin. Benedict shot a glance to Colin, who had been talking Anthony’s ear off since they arrived. Now, the two of them were staring him down, whispering like schoolboys. He refrained from scoffing and instead took your hand gently, pulling you into his tall frame as the music began.

You instantly noticed the nervous and almost pained expression splashed across Benedict’s face, and you furrowed your brow in worry. However, you decided your best course of action was to try and alleviate the tension he must’ve been feeling, “I see you haven’t taken a liking to my shawl,” you remarked, a sly smile dancing on your lips, “I will have to tell my sister she has dreadful taste.”

Benedict ripped his eyes from his brothers’ stares and produced a small chuckle at your teasing. He realized he’d much rather converse with you than worry about what Anthony and Colin were up to, “No, it’s uh—it is, quite lovely,” he countered, lowering his voice, “Though I would prefer to see more of you, of course.” You raised an eyebrow, impressed by his boldness.

“I believe you saw plenty last night, Mr. Bridgerton,” you posited, weaponizing his own name against him, “In fact, I suppose you could blame yourself for my more…conservative attire, wouldn’t you agree?”

Benedict couldn’t help but flush, but cleared his throat to attempt to keep up with your rather scandalous banter, “Yes, well…I suppose…” he stuttered, “I may or may not have left some…marks.” He spun you, watching as your dress moved gracefully around your body and fluttered behind you as you gripped his arm once more.

You searched the panicked expression on his face. Surely, he only knew you were teasing, so why did he look like he was on the brink of sickness? “Benedict, why are you acting so strange?” you asked, attempting to keep the mood light while searching for information, “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?”

Benedict swallowed, attempting to maintain his composure. Besides the looming threat of every affluent family in Mayfair uncovering your secret, he was also painfully aware of how nervous you had been making him over the past weeks. The way your smile lit up every room, the way your eyes sparkled playfully, the way your laugh made his heart do a somersault.

“It’s just as well,” you continued, not waiting for him to answer your rhetorical question, “I overheard Colin and Pen whispering earlier, and Simon and Daphne as well. Apparently, all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.” He sighed, a little relieved that you had caught onto his family’s shenanigans before he worried you unnecessarily. He couldn’t help but appreciate your perceptive nature.

“Believe me, Colin and Daphne may be my siblings, but they are not my friends right now,” he joked nervously, only half-kidding, “And Anthony is on dangerously thin ice. It appears my family can’t help but get involved in matters that do not concern them.” You giggled, causing Benedict’s heart to swell. He was growing more infatuated with you by the second.

“I wish my family cared half as much as yours does,” you say, a twinge of sadness in your voice, “They are all so wonderful, and I’m sure they are just being protective.” Benedict nodded, heartened by the kindness and understanding you were showing to his siblings. You already got along quite well with Eloise and Daphne, and you were always courteous to his mother while still being able to hold your own when conversing with Anthony or Colin.

As the dance came to an end, Benedict had begun to realize his affection for you. Not just physically; yes, your first encounter at Sir Granville’s had brought you two together faster than he had ever expected. It was reckless, intimate, and completely wonderful, but getting to know you, without dozens of uppity members of high society leering at your every move, was more valuable than any nights you had spent together.

And he decided in that moment, as your hand released from his and you both bowed respectfully, that he could not bear to spend one more day without you by his side. But he could not profess his love in front of God and everyone, least of all his family; he quickly surmised that he must wait until a moment presented itself.

You were quickly whisked away by your mother, unable to even say a proper thank you and goodbye. But as your eyes met his blue ones, you couldn’t help but notice how they were sparkling in the candlelight, and you felt a twinge of melancholy. You cared for Benedict, but feared it was only a matter of time before your affair ended and he was married to another disgustingly wealthy aristocrat. You gave him a fleeting smile before getting dragged to the other side of the ballroom.

As you turned away from him, Benedict felt two hands grasping each of his arms, one hand belonging to each of his meddling brothers, “I knew it!” Colin whisper-yelled as he and Anthony pulled their love-struck sibling into a secluded corner of the lavish hall, “You know, you really aren’t fooling anyone, Ben.”

“How do you mean?” Benedict asked nervously in one last ditch effort to conceal the truth. He shouldn’t have bothered; his brothers had seen how smitten he was with you, and soon the entire ton would be abuzz with salacious gossip if he did not make his move that very evening.

“Benedict,” Anthony chided sternly, clapping him on the shoulder, “Please, do not deny it any longer. You’re clearly bewitched.” The eldest Bridgerton child could not help but smirk; it was almost entertaining to see his usually guarded brother so obviously in love.

Benedict sighed, defeated, “Alright,” he whispered, his face flush with embarrassment, “I apologize for thinking I could ever keep a secret from you two.” Colin smirked proudly, feeling as if he were London’s greatest detective, “I’ll tell you everything if you want, but for the love of Christ, it cannot be here.” He gestured to the room, which was growing more crowded with preening mamas, hunting for the slightest whiff of a scandal.

While Benedict and his brothers searched for a private room for him to regale your escapades, your night flew by, and hours later you found yourself chatting with Daphne and Simon on the gorgeously decorated outdoor terrace. The night was perfectly temperate, and although the noise had died down significantly as many guests had departed for the evening, your head was still swimming in thought. Specifically, you were overwhelmed by the thought of Benedict.

He was quite kind to you, and a very smart, charming gentleman, but you felt your heart lurch as you recalled the intimate nights you had shared over the last few weeks. Men of Benedict’s status would not wed a tainted woman, no matter how much you wished he would. It was only a matter of time before Lady Whistledown revealed your transgressions, and you would be marked as an undesirable to the entire upper echelon of society.

You shuddered at the thought. “Chilly, dear?” Daphne asked sweetly, noticing the unsettled look on your face, “I would think you’d be more protected from the elements with that beautiful shawl on.” Your heart jumped to your throat before you could cover for yourself; Benedict had appeared on the terrace, looking absolutely petrified. Simon and Daphne exchanged glances.

“Darling,” Simon said, turning to his wife, “It is quite crisp out here, don’t you think? Perhaps we should—”

“Go inside to warm up?” Daphne finished his sentence, that unmistakably mischievous glint in her eye that all Bridgerton children possessed, “Why yes, I think that is a fantastic idea, Simon.” She hooked her arm under her husband’s, and the two of them bid you and Benedict adieu, much to your dismay. You were certain he had been found out by his family and was here to end your affair before word reached the rest of the ton.

Still, you managed to smile politely. Simon was right, there was a slight chill that pervaded the terrace, mostly due to the lack of company that had populated the space only hours before, “Hello, Benedict,” you mutter, shifting your weight from one heeled foot to the other, “Will you be departing soon or—?”

“Erm, yes,” he answered a bit too quickly, and you raised an eyebrow. His strange behavior all night was another indicator that ending things was clearly as difficult for him to initiate as it would be for you to accept, “But first, I, well, I need to tell you something. Something I probably should have told you weeks ago.”

You felt a lump in your throat almost instantaneously. ‘Here it comes,’ you thought, more distressed than you hoped you would be. Benedict took your gloved hand, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. If it were not slightly improper, you would almost find it comforting; his touch always seemed to soothe you, ever since your first night together.

“I never expected to…for us to become so close in such a short period of time,” he began, wondering at what point in this silly speech he would make a royal ass out of himself. Though he had gained a little brotherly insight from Anthony and Colin, he still felt as though he could vomit at any second, “And, well, truth be told, I have enjoyed every moment we have spent together.”

You smiled, pleased by his kind words, “Truthfully, I have felt the same,” you remarked, “But it’s quite alright, Ben, I understand—”

“You do?” he cut you off again, a bead of sweat forming on his brow, “Am I really so obvious about my affection for you?” You stared at him, confused. Was this not him ending whatever…relationship the two of you shared? Now you felt like the fool.

“Affection?” you repeated, your mouth twitching, “I thought you did not want to see me anymore.” Benedict’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but laugh dryly. You had mistaken his jittery behavior as a bad omen, when that could not be further from reality.

He shook his head, and you felt the pace of your heartbeat quicken, “My dear, I think there’s been a slight misunderstanding,” he joked, clearing his throat, “I know that our relationship has been a secret for some time, but I cannot hide how I feel for you any longer. You are kind, and witty, and strong, and incredibly adventurous, and when our dance came to an end earlier this evening, I…I felt like there was a part of me missing as soon as you left. I…when I’m not with you, it’s almost like…I can’t breathe.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, taken aback by his doting and earnest words. “And it would be my honor,” he smiled, his gaze intense and impassioned, “If I could ask for your hand.” Your eyes sparkled back at his, and you nodded silently, attempting to conceal a squeal of girlish glee. You two were still, unfortunately, in public.

“Yes,” you exhaled, feeling foolish from your assumptions about Benedict only minutes before, “I would be equally honored to be your wife, Benedict Bridgerton.” You snuck him a quick kiss on his cheek, causing him to flush for what was probably the hundredth time that night, “I see our friends were right after all, weren’t they?”

“Yes, yes they were, and I doubt I will ever hear the end of it from Anthony and Colin,” Benedict mused, smiling sweetly as the corners of his eyes crinkled happily, “I’ll see to a proper visit first thing tomorrow morning, I promise.” He studied you, doing all he could to absorb the joyous look etched upon your radiant face. You smirked, turning in the direction of your family’s carriage.

“I shall hold you to that,” you said, pulling him towards the exit, “But don’t think this night is over, Mr. Bridgerton. I’m not done with you quite yet.”

-----------

I hope you enjoyed reading! As always I would love to hear any comments or feedback! Like/comment/reblog, all that good stuff :)

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part Two)

Summary: you thought it was enough, you thought it was what it deserved, but it wasn’t. it never was. (one of three four parts)

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader

Word Count: 5,395

Song: I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life (tolerate it by taylor swift)

Warnings: T, implications of sex, so much angst, some swearing, 

A/N: again thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera​ and @qvid-pro-qvo​ but also @laneygthememequeen​ for giving me feedback and listening to me ramble as i continue to write this series. thank all of you for all of your wonderful comments/reblogs - every one gave me the motivation to keep writing! Also i made these timecards to account for the passage of time since we will be jumping through years quite a bit. 

“Why did we agree to  letting him shadow us again?” Rafael whispers to you, glancing at Sonny working at the conference table �� his irritation evident, “it doesn’t give us a lot of time alone.” 

“Well, he’s a law student and a new detective, I’m trying to show him the ropes, and who's the one who got home late last night? Besides, he said he’d buy us coffee to thank us,” you lean away from him, nudging him, mouthing ‘be nice,’ “have you taken Criminal Procedure yet? Or Evidence?” 

“I’m taking Evidence right now, but this is nothing like learning about it in class,” he was flipping helping you root through the discovery that the defense had buried you in — a typical Buchanan maneuver, “Did you always think you would be a prosecutor?” 

You snort, “No,” and Rafael even looks up from his work, and you shake your head, “Well I thought I would go corporate at first, make some money to support myself, invest properly and then retire, but a year into doing that, I hated it. I ended up leaving without barely making a dent in my student loans.” 

“Ouch,” Sonny shook his head, “and you came here? Do you regret it?” 

“I’d be interested to hear the answer to this,” Rafael leans forward, resting his chin on his fist. 

You scoff at him, considering it — did you regret it? “I don’t,” you say, “although I’d be way less in debt, I wouldn’t be happy — I wouldn’t be helping victims, I wouldn’t be getting justice, and I wouldn’t be working with you two — “ Rafael’s gaze softens, “and here, I’m happy,” and you catch Rafael smiling at his desk, before adding, “except when Barba doesn’t get his coffee.” 

Sonny guffaws, trying and failing to hide it with a cough, “You want to get us some coffee, Fordham or are you too busy pulling a muscle from laughing?” 

“Alright, alright,” he holds his hands up in surrender, grabbing his jacket, before leaving, the office door swinging shut behind him. 

“Would it kill you to be a little nicer to him?” Rafael shrugs, rising from his desk, and wrapping his arms around you, “Raf—” 

“Better him than me, right?” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “I liked it better when he had the mustache.” 

You laugh, shaking your head, as he sighs against the crook of your neck, “Just be nicer to him okay? He’s really trying here, and he’s a good detective.” 

“What’s with the sudden interest in Fordham?” 

You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “His name is Sonny, and he’s sweet — I’m trying to help him out, and you should too. He looks up to you.” 

“Lucky me,” you press a kiss to his lips, “it’s not fair when you do that—” 

You kiss him again, your tongue tasting him, his mouth following yours as you slipped away back into your seat, “Be nice.” 

“As long as you’re nice to me tonight,” he replies, just before Carisi returns, coffees in hand. 

“I hope the shadowing has been helpful, I know Rafael can be an ass—” you shrugged your jacket off, slinging it over your arm, walking beside Sonny, the detective insisting on walking you home. 

“Well he wouldn’t be Barba otherwise, would he?” and you snort, glancing at your phone to see a text from him — working, will be late. Your place? 

“Well you’re right about that,” you tucked your phone away, seeing Sonny run his fingers over his chin and mouth, “missing the stache?” 

“Not really, no, but Rollins made a remark that I looked better with it,” he bites his lips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “what do you think?” 

You purse your lips in mock thought, holding your chin,  “No, I think I prefer this look,” you laughed, “You look good.” 

“Oh I look good? Really?” and he raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you bump him with your shoulder, “come on, counselor, you can’t play coy.” 

You step in front of him, “Oh yeah, definitely — you’re a real heart stealer,”Before turning on your heel and continuing to stroll, “do you want to grab a drink?” and you didn’t catch the way he was looking at you as you walked away from him — his eyes shining in the low light of the streetlights. 

“Yeah, I’d love to.” 

“We know this guy is guilty,” Amanda told you two, her arms crossed, “but we can’t get past his troop of lawyers to get anywhere close to his employees.” 

Liv leans back in her chair, “So, why don’t you two do your job and get this guy on charges for us?” 

You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face, “You don’t know that for sure, Liv, and even if you did — it goes against the justice system to just entrap people without a fair process first. We can’t do our jobs, until you guys do yours—” 

“We can’t get more evidence until he’s indicted — he’s too smart, he won’t expect it, he’ll get sloppy,” Liv looks at Barba for support, and as do you, lips a thin line, and he sighs. 

“We’ll get a grand jury together, we’ll send out subpoenas, and see where we are at—” 

You gape at him, “Rafael—” 

“I don’t know counselor, this could be risky—” Carisi steps forward, brow furrowed, “Lieu, she has a point — we take this now, we wouldn’t get another shot at him.” 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Rafael waved him off, “book him, now.” 

Liv and Amanda left, while Sonny hung around his desk, as you pulled Rafael aside, “Rafael, you literally went over my head—” 

His eyes narrowed, “We need to build a case—” 

You scoffed, “SVU builds the case, we prosecute it — we’re not in the business of using indictments to get our evidence,” you looked around the precinct, eyes flitted away, and you pulled him into Liv’s office, shutting the door, “you undermined me, my opinion—” 

He says your name, “You know I value your opinion but—” 

“Not as much as Liv’s,” and it’s his turn to gape at you, “you know this case doesn't have enough — and you’re pushing it through anyway—” 

“SVU cases are not open and shut—” 

“No case is open and shut— otherwise, we wouldn’t have so many innocent people die of the death penalty would we?” you grit your teeth, “you handle this case — if you want to take a half-baked case to a grand jury I won’t stop you, but I won’t be cleaning up your messes either.” 

He calls after you, but you leave without another word, stepping into the elevator, the doors shutting until a hand stops them — but it isn’t Rafael, “Counselor,” he steps in after you, hitting the ground floor button — the doors shutting, “are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” his eyes fell on your fisted phone, knuckles white. 

“Your phone would beg to disagree — you’re aboutta crack the screen with your grip,” and your cheeks burn, slipping the phone into your pocket, “you know Lieu has a tendency to become a little blinded when it comes to the victims, she—” 

“I know, Sonny, and most of the time I find that admirable about Liv, but it’s our jobs as prosecutors to bring justice — and that’s not just for the victims, but it’s for society,” your eyes look the ceiling, blinking away hot tears of frustration, “pushing through cases like this isn’t justice — it’s reckless,” the elevator doors ding open, and you slip through, expecting to be alone, but Sonny still follows out the doors of the precinct. 

“I get it,” you huff, slowing to a stop, “I do, really. I may be a cop, but I want to be a lawyer too, and to be one, you gotta see both sides, don’t you? But what do you do when things are gray?” 

“You search for the truth,” 

His lips twisted in a frown, he asks, “and if you can’t find it?” 

“Then you look for the closest thing to it, but this, a fishing expedition—” you shake your head, “this isn’t it.” 

He nods, jerking his head, “Come on, let’s grab a coffee,” 

“I should get—” 

He smiles, “I’m sure Barba won’t mind the extra time to lick his wounds, you really chewed him out,” 

You raised an eyebrow, “How much of our conversation did you hear?” 

“Not much after you went into the office, but it was still obviously heated,” you feel anger sting at your eyes, the heat rising in your body, and instead of fury — it came in tears, how convenient, “but for what it’s worth, I value your opinion a lot, counselor. And I know Barba does too,” he adds, and you follow as he leads you away from the precinct, “he’s just not showing it well.” 

You glanced at your phone — Going back to the office, can we talk? — “No,” you reply, “No he isn’t.” 

But did he ever? 

“Where’d you learn to cook anyway?” your legs were slung over Rafael’s lap one Sunday morning, as he fed you another forkful of the huevos rancheros he had made,  “I thought you lived off coffee and Forlini’s.” 

“Ha, ha,” he kissed you, licking the bit of sauce left on your lips, “well consider it my way of making up for what happened with the case. I am sorry about that, you know that right?” 

“I do,” you open your mouth and he feeds you another bite, “but don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the question, Barba.” 

He purses his lips, “How about we just say I learned for you and leave at that?” 

You frowned, “Raf,” he fell silent, the gears in his head turning, “you don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to lie either.” 

He starts softly, even as he stabs the eggs with his fork, “When my dad went off on one of his tirades, Mami wasn’t in any shape to cook, and she wouldn’t want to ask Abuelita since that would involve telling her what happened — so I would cook for us.” 

You lean over, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, “You never talk about your father,” 

“What’s there to talk about?” he replies quietly, “he married my mom — he was amazing at first, and then just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “he changed. When they got married, he had permission to be the person he always was — angry, disgusting, abusive. He made her cut off everyone out of her life, made her miserable, abused her, abused me—” he cut off, setting the fork down with a clatter, “but still, I see him every day when I look in the mirror — and I wonder if I’m any better than him at all.” 

“Rafael, look at me,” you slide closer to him, your fingers intertwined with his, when you tilt his chin up, “you are not your father — far from it. You help victims get justice, you help them tell their stories, you are a good man, one of the best men I know.” 

He sniffs, a small smile on his lips, “Even when I don’t get my coffee?” 

You roll your eyes, shifting again so your knees are either side of his lap, sitting properly on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Even then — Raf, you are so good, I just wish you’d see it — I wish you’d see yourself.” 

He leans up to kiss you, gently, “Maybe I can see myself through you,” he murmurs against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours, and you sit in silence for a moment — in peace, before he finally breaks it, “I think it’s because of him that I’m so scared of us — I don’t want to be him.” 

“You could never be him—”  

“But you don’t know that,” he replies, his gaze falling to his lap, dark, as he shifts you softly off of him, “not really.” 

“Rafael—” he rises from the sofa, his back turned away from you, as he heads to the bathroom. 

“I need to shower.” And he leaves you there, without another word. 

“Working late again?” Sonny poked his head into his office, “it’s 2 AM counselor, isn’t anyone expecting you home?” 

You don’t look up from your work, “I could ask you the same — what are you doing here?” Sonny lifted his scarf off your bookshelf, folded neatly on top of some stacked books and briefs. 

“I just finished my shift at the precinct, and thought I’d drop by and see about picking this up,” he glanced at Rafael’s office, light closed, “No Barba?” 

“No, he headed home for the night,” more like you had insisted on him getting some sleep tonight, plying him with sweet kisses, until finally he left — but now you were left with the work to take care of, “I’m wrapping up some work,” you yawn, stretching, blinking at the detective still standing in your doorway, “aren’t you heading home?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting on you — the cases will be there in the mornin’,” he steps forward, offering you your coat, “come on.” 

You pout, “But I didn’t get what I said—” 

“Is it something that can be done tomorrow?” 

“Yes, but—” he shuts off your desk lamp, holding your coat out again. 

“I’ll walk you home,” and you sigh, looking between your work and his hand, before hauling yourself to your feet. 

It was not another ten minutes when your stomach started growling, to which Sonny raised an eyebrow, “Like to share something with the class?” 

Your cheeks burned, as you bite your bottom lip, “I may have forgotten to eat today,” and Sonny shook his head. 

“You don’t sleep, you don’t eat — do you and Barba just run on coffee?” 

“And spite,” you add with a shrug, “how do you get time to eat? You’re constantly running around all over the place.” 

“You have to make the time, whether that’s me eating in my car or taking a half hour to go grab a slice, maybe next time I’ll invite you along,” his hands slipped into his pockets. 

“I’d love to right now, but I am a little sick of takeout, and I think I rather crash at this point,” you rubbed at your eyes, “food can wait until tomorrow.” 

“You need to eat, counselor, or your stomach won’t let you,” his brow wrinkled in thought, “do you have anything at home?” 

“Nothing prepared, I have some things frozen, but nothing that’s ready—” 

“I’ll cook you something, dinner—” he glanced at his watch, “I think it's closer to breakfast at this point.” 

“Sonny, you don’t need to do that—” 

“I want to — to thank you for letting me shadow you and Barba,” his smile is so warm, “I assume he wasn’t too pleased with the idea at first.” 

“You don’t need to thank me — it’s fine—” you started, but he cut you off. 

“Are you hungry?” you pouted, as your stomach growled again, “Strike that, you are, and do you have the energy to cook?” 

“No, but—” 

“No buts, come on,” he clapped his hands together, you stood, biting your lip, “are you not okay with this?” 

“It’s not you, Sonny—” it was the concept of this — having a man over late at night, and you trusted Sonny, you did — he was your friend, but it felt misleading, “I just want you to know I’m seeing someone, kind of.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “Kind of?” 

“It’s not a relationship, but it kind of is — we’re keeping things casual for now,” you licked your dry lips, but your throat was a desert compared to it, “I just don’t want to mislead—” 

He cut you off, saying with your name, “It’s fine,” he offered a small smile, “I get it. Consider me friendzoned — now are you hungry or not?” 

“I am.” you hurried along in front of him, shivering in the cold, not noticing his smile slip from his face. 

“How did you learn to cook?” You were told to sit at your island, watching Sonny root through your fridge, “also, I’m sorry again for the state of my fridge, I’m not home a lot so—” 

“Trust me, I get it,” he pulls eggs, cheese, and a can of tomatoes from the fridge, “and I learned from my mother — she had her handful with my sisters, so sometimes I would cook with her or for her. I got used to it and I liked it.”

“Am I allowed to help or do I just watch?” he crossed his arms, evaluating you, making you sit up a bit straighter. 

“Have you ever poached eggs before?” your expression was enough of an answer, “how about you leave the heavy lifting to me and just do what I tell you.” 

“Yes sir,” and you missed him smiling at your cheeky reply, “What’s first?” 

“We both have the same weekday off?” you drop your purse and jacket on his chair, as he pulls you into his arms, “has that ever happened before?” 

“Not in what? Three years of working together?” he trails kisses down your neck, tugging at your collar, “we can’t waste it.” 

“What are you implying, counselor?” you say in mock surprise, as he walked you backwards, pressing you to the nearest wall. 

His eyes lidded and dark, as his fingers toyed with the buttons on your button up, “I’m implying that I want to spend the day f—” 

There was a knock on the door — both of your heads snapping over. You whispered, “were you expecting anyone?” 

“No?” he whispered back, “it might be someone from the squad, wait in the bedroom—” 

You rolled your eyes, as he strode over to the door, straightening his clothes, and adjusting himself noticeably, to which you snorted — earning you a sharp look over his shoulder,  before you slipped into the bedroom, door shut. 

You heard a woman’s voice speaking, heels clicking against the floor. You pressed your ear to the door, but there was no need because the voices grew louder,  “The bedroom is a mess, Mami,” 

Shit. 

There was nowhere to hide in here — but you didn’t want to come off looking rude either — you spotted Rafael’s headphones and a book on his bed stand. 

Well, oblivious is better than idiotic. 

You adjusted your clothes, sitting on the bed, playing music on your phone loudly, flipping the book open to a random page, just as the door opened, “Now, what could be so bad that you don’t want your own mother to—” She cut off, when she saw you, and you peered up, mouth agape — in fake (and real) astonishment, “well hello.” 

“Hi,” you slipped the headphones to your neck, before pulling them off, setting the book side, as you looked from a bewildered Rafael to his appraising mother, “you must be Rafael’s mother, Lucia,” you introduce yourself, holding out your hand, “I work with your son at his office.” 

She repeats your name, elbowing her son, “This is who you’re always talking about?” 

“Excuse me?” you raise an eyebrow at a flustered Rafael, the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose a beautiful red. 

“Mami, I think I neglected to tell you that—” 

“That you and your gorgeous co-worker here are seeing each other? It would seem so,” she slaps him lightly with her purse, before talking your hand warmly, “it’s very nice to meet you, dear. I apologize for my son’s lack of disclosure—” another pointed look at her son, “I wouldn’t have interrupted your day off together otherwise—imagine if I used the key you gave me.” 

Rafael blanched at the thought, his eyes desperately trying to apologize to you, but you kept your eyes on Lucia, “There’s no need to apologize, I’m sorry for surprising you—” you smiled, your nerves pushed to the very edge — imagine if she had walked a few minutes later, “is there something you need from Rafael?” 

“Not in particular, I was going to ask him if he wanted to join me for lunch— I just cooked his favorite, but now that I see he’s busy—” 

“No, you both should go,” you wave her off, “I don’t want to step on any plans—” 

“Why don’t you join us?” Lucia offered, elbowing her son, “if that’s okay with el juez here?” 

“Of course,” he cleared his throat, his smile sincere, “join us, if you want to.” 

Well how could you say no to that? 

“This is delicious, Lucia,” you and Rafael helped her pick up the table, insisting on her sitting, “thank you again for having me over. It means so much.” 

“I was happy to — my son’s personal life has always been a bit of mystery to me,” she walks over, pinching his cheek, “mijo has a mouth he doesn’t mind running except when it involves his personal life.” 

“Mami,” he warned, and she lifted her hands in surrender. 

“On that note, I’m going to wash up, and I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself to the bathroom, washing your hands, and just as you began to step out, you heard them whispering. 

“So what’s the story here, Rafi? You’ve been together for quite a while — any chance you’ll be popping the question anytime soon?” 

Your heart thumped against your ribcage, leaping out of your chest, “It’s not like that between us, Mami — we’re together but—” and your heart sunk in the same motion — down to the floor, “we’re not serious—” small smack and Rafael’s ‘ouch.’ 

“Do not be such an idiot that a keeper will wait for you this long — it’s a miracle you’ve been together this long,” you hear her sigh, “not serious? The way you look at each other? Rafi, not every person is Yelina—” 

“This isn’t about her,” he cuts her off, exasperated, as you rest your forehead against the trim of the bathroom door, “I know what I’m doing.” 

“You know what you’re doing,” she repeats, the clink of the dishes in the sink, “I hope you do, mijo, or you’ll regret it.” 

Regret, you thought, squeezing your eyes shut — you knew a little something about that, as you slipped from Lucia’s apartment, the door shutting behind you. 

There was urgent knocking on your door — and you placed your book down. Well, this was inevitable. 

You had been avoiding Rafael since the lunch with his mother — taking shifts and working out of your office. He had been texting and calling — you hadn’t been replying — the temptation regulated to the charger in the kitchen. He wanted to explain, he wanted to talk — but he always wanted to explain, he always wanted to talk. And he always talked his way back into your pants with plying words and sweet kisses. 

But now there was nothing more to be said. He left nothing else to be said. 

Even so, it wasn’t his fault entirely  — it was your fault for letting this get so far. 

And why had you let it get so far? That was the one question you couldn’t answer yourself. 

And now, you steeled yourself as you approached the door — you supposed he wanted to have it out in person. 

“Who is it?” you asked, arms crossed. 

“It’s Sonny,” you blinked, his voice unsteady and weak, as you threw open the door, finding him grim faced and dull, the color pulled from his face. 

“Sonny, what happened—” 

“Can I, uh, come in?” you stepped aside, letting him in, shutting the door behind you, and he didn’t sit down — or rather he couldn’t. He paced the length of the room, his eyes on the ground, arms across his chest. 

“Sonny?” you ask hesitantly, as you approach him, his back turned, “what’s wrong?” He faces you, tears streaming down his face, “Sonny—” 

“I’m sorry,” he blinks, wiping away the tears, “I’m fine, I shouldn’t’ve come here, I just—” his voice breaks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, “I didn’t know where to go.” 

“Sonny, stop, you can always come here,” you squeezes his shoulder gently, “sit down, please.” You lead him to the couch, spotting red specks of blood on his neck and on the collar of his shirt, “what happened?” and he tenses, “we don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” he buries his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, hunched over, “let me get you some water—” 

“Look, I don’t need water — I just need—” he stammers, “please, just stay beside me, please?” 

And you did, your hand reaching for his, fingers slowly intertwining with his longer ones — even with how gentle Sonny was, with how he dwarfed you in size never failed to surprise you, but then again, he was always full of surprises, wasn’t he? His hand was warm and soft, engulfing with its heat, but trembled under your touch. You squeezed it every few minutes, the ones you sat in silence in, to remind him that you were still there — that he wasn’t alone. And you would never leave him to be alone. 

His first words were quiet in an already still room, “Barba has kept you updated on the Quinn Berris case right?” you nod — the woman who had been raped by her stalker, Ray Wilson. Wilson had been arrested by Sergeant Tom Coles four years ago, “We found out that Quinn wasn’t raped by Ray Wilson — it was Coles.” 

Your jaw dropped, “Coles did it—” 

“We went to his house, to confront him,” his voice shook as he spoke, his eyes hard, fixed on your carpet, but he was somewhere else now — back in Coles’ home, ��I moved slowly, I did everything by the book, and I turned around, and he had his gun to my head.” 

“Sonny,” you squeezed his hand again, “what happened?” 

“I thought he was going to kill me,” he swallowed, his eyes unblinking, “I can still feel the metal brushing my forehead, following me as I put my gun down,” he leans back, arms crossed again, “I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything. I could hear myself talking, but I didn’t know what I was saying — it was like everything was underwater. If Liv didn’t shoot him—”  

“But you’re okay, Sonny,” you pulled him closer, arm wrapped around his shoulder, “You’re alive.”

“He didn’t have to die,” he whispers, “he could have just surrendered.” 

“He didn’t want to, Sonny,” you shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks, “he had lost everything, and he wanted to die — and he wanted someone else to go down with him. But you didn’t.”

“You know in the moment, I didn’t even pray,” he gives a bitter chuckle, “years of Catholic schooling and church, but in that moment all I could think of was my family, the squad, you,” he shakes his head, “I’m sorry for coming over and unloading this all on you — I didn’t mean—” 

“Don’t apologize,” you brush away your tears, your hands gently pulling him into a hug, “I’m just so glad you’re okay, Sonny.”  

He rested his chin on your shoulder, finally shutting his eyes for a moment, a peace washing over him for a moment, “Me too.” 

“Not a minute is promised, is it?” you whisper, pulling away, and he shakes his head. 

“Not a second,” and your thoughts fall away to your phone — to Rafael. It could have been him today — or any day. Was it worth holding a grudge, if it meant you wouldn’t see him again? That your last words to him were nothing but silence? 

“Let me get some water, Sonny,” and he nodded, leaning back on the couch, as you slipped away, grabbing a glass, as well as your phone. 

Rafael Barba: Mi amor, please, I’m sorry. Can we talk? 

You: I’m busy today, but tomorrow, we’ll talk. 

“We need to talk,” your office door opened — night had long fallen, the chatter and bustle of the office long died away in the darkness, the washed out fluorescent dimmers flickering in the halls — and there was only one person who would be opening your door right now. 

Rafael stood in your doorway, his knuckles white against the doorknob. Rafael’s brows knitted together, his mouth twisted in a scowl. You leaned back in your chair, raising an eyebrow, “not here.” 

“I can’t step away from this—” 

“You can make time for this,” he hisses, eyes narrowed, but you don’t budge, arms crossed, and he shuts your door, locking it, pulling the shutters down, “You went over my head.” 

You weren’t going to deny it, “I did,” you had went to Jack, talked to him about your concerns about the case you two had been handling together, another case slapped together that Rafael was trying to push through to trial — and you finally had enough, “You didn’t give me much of a choice—” 

“There was a choice — you could have talked to me—” you scoffed, flipping your file closed, “what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Rafael, you’re pushing through cases I don’t agree with — cases without enough information, forcing taxpayer dollars to be used on cases that will not succeed, and yes sometimes that’s necessary, sometimes we have bad cases, but sometimes you’re casting a stigma on people who end up being innocent—” 

“And sometimes casting a stigma is all we can do to warn other potential victims—” 

“And sometimes it just ruins someone’s reputation, and our own when we end up with lawsuits for damages,” you cross your arms, rounding your desk, “just because Liv coerces you into pushing through cases—” 

“Is that what this is about? That you’re jealous of Liv?” he snaps, and you laugh — a bitter noise you don't recognize, “I never thought you would ever let our personal problems affect your judgement.” 

“First of all,” your voice was an eerie calm, a deadly frigid cold permeated your words, “this has nothing to do with your personal life — this has to do with protecting the integrity of this office,” and it was his turn to scoff, "and second of all, what is there to be jealous of, Rafael?" you cross your arms, "We fuck — that’s it. Period. That’s all we are to each other. A warm body, nothing more and nothing less. You’re too busy saving the rest of the world to care.” and you wouldn’t allow your voice to crack, even though you could feel yourself crumbling with every word that you spit like venom — poisoning him and you from the inside out, “we're not serious,” you echo his words, a sinking feeling in your gut. 

“That was out of context—” 

“It’s not out of context when I heard the entire conversation, Rafael,” you shake your head, turning away from him, to look out your window — lights dotted the streets, the city very much alive with so many other places to be. 

His reply is quiet, “Is that all I am to you?” 

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh, clutching at your forehead, “no matter how much we talk about it — how much we try to fix it, we can’t. We can’t. Call this a failed experiment, call this nothing, say it never existed, it doesn’t matter. It’s done.” 

“No,” you shake your head, grabbing your jacket, brushing past him when he tries to stop you, his hand brushing your shoulder — and you knew what he would do again — ply you with kisses, whisper sweet lies that covered the bitter truth, patching shreds that fell to pieces—  “no, mi amor—” 

“Don’t call me that,” you whirl around, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes — but you hoped your words stung more, “don’t call me that when you never loved me.” 

And they did. 

He whispers your name, “Please—” 

“I can’t do this,” you shake him off, walking out the door, “not now.”

And maybe not ever. 

[janiedean]

crack prompt inspired by all the tvd talk on your blog: damon, jaime, tony stark all walk into a bar alone and end up drunk oversharing ~~

(if you wanna include ships in it anything with delena/dalaric/bamon; brienne; pepper/bruce/strange/rhodey is okay lmfao so pretty much anything goes, i just want them being each other's therapist because the timeline collapsed for some time and their universes interacted somehow lmfao)

*spins the wheel* AAAND hello anon we can absolutely try that u__u

ten years on tumblr anniversary prompt post | buy me a coffee | commissions open

Well, now I really did bite off more than I could chew, Tony thinks as he shakes his head and hopes that he and Bruce didn't fuck up the entire fabric of reality.

Well.

He's not in New York and he wasn't in the span of five seconds since they got the machine turned on, but - but well. Bruce isn't here, so hopefully he'll figure out where the fuck he ended up. Maybe we should have been sober when trying to work out that whole different timelines and multiverses thing.

Now, damage control. He should probably try to not go anywhere, but in case he actually just... teleported somewhere, maybe he should just ask where he is. He glances at his back. He's in front of a bar named Mystic Grill, which... okay, shitty name, but he could be anywhere in fuck-all-middle-of-nowhere Idaho for all he knows. He takes out his cellphone, and there is zero reception.

Bad news.

He sees a blonde kid with a police badge coming up the road, so he clears his throat and stops him.

"Uh, officer?"

"Hello," the kid says, "I don't remember seeing you around here."

Yeah, because I'm not from this world, most likely. "Eh," Tony lies, "I was driving my car but it broke down outside town and the way I got in, there wasn't a sign. Would you mind telling me where exactly I ended up?"

"Mystic Falls," the guy says, "I didn't know the damned State of Virginia now took us off the maps, too." That was sarcastic, Tony can hear it, but.

He's sure that there is no such place where he comes from.

"Right," Tony says, "I'll, uh, be out to find a mechanic then."

The kid gives him instructions to reach one, Tony thanks him and lets him go. Well, he can't certainly go anywhere now, but at least it seems like they fucked up just his -

"What the fuck," he hears from his left side -

Just in time to see a blonde guy wearing a white armor and a white cloak fall through a portal just the same as his own, that disappears a moment later. The blonde guy has green eyes, Tony notices, is lacking a right hand because he has a rather heavy golden prothesis on it that looks tacky also for his own tastes and looks completely out of his depth as he moves to his feet.

"Uh," Tony says, "I imagine you aren't from... here."

"Certainly not," the guy says, sounding... near hysterical, as he takes the surroundings. "What - what are those things anyway?" Cars. Oh fuck, he's looking at cars. "How are you dressed? What - what are these houses?"

"Er," Tony says, "humor me a moment. What's your name and where do you come from?"

The guy rolls his eyes. "Jaime Lannister, and I come from Westeros, thank you very much, now where the hell am I?"

... Great, Tony thinks, now it's not even someplace where the USA exist. "Er," Tony says, "in another world. Listen, it's my fault, I, uh, sort of caused it, and my colleague will most likely fix it, but it's really better we don't go anywhere so he can locate us more easily. Tell you what, can I buy you a drink while we wait?"

"Another world?" The guy blurts, and then - then he stares at Tony, then at his surroundings, then rolls his eyes again.

"You know what," he says, "I've had a shit long day. What can this be on top of fucking undead Catelyn Stark? Buy me the fucking drink."

I'm not doing drunk science anymore, Tony vows to himself as they walk inside the place, and he really hopes he can spin some story as to why the guy with him is wearing bonafide armor -

"And who the fuck are the two of you now?"

So: Tony had not taken into account that there would be just one person in the bar and that this person would be of course not human because no one human could pin the two of them to the wall in a split second and hold them there with such strength, and that's how he finds out that pretty guy with blue eyes, dark hair, pale skin and homicidal face is a damned vampire.

Except that the moment Tony explains it - Jaime or whoever he is is just keeping his mouth shut, wisely - the guy stares at them, and then more, and then -

"With everything I've seen in the last years," he says, "honestly, that's not even the most fucking stupid. So, you just want to lounge around until your friend shows up to fix whatever the fuck you did?"

"Er, yes?"

"Whatever. I'm Damon. I can cover your drinks and compel the bartender to forget your face. I sorely fucking need some myself."

He lets them go, but then - "Get that armor off," he tells Jaime, "this isn't New York City."

"I can't just leave my armor around!"

"Just leave it in the bathroom and take it back later," Damon shrugs, and then nods towards what's most likely the bathroom.

Jaime shrugs and goes, muttering something about maybe having drank too much milk of the poppy, and Tony doesn't want to know whatever the hell that is.

--

"Listen," Jaime says later, wearing an attire that's still obviously Middle-Ages-like but at least doesn't stand out too much, sipping at the bourbon Damon shoved at them, "I'm choosing to think I'm making this all up, but if I'm not, how long will it be before I can go back where I come from? Because you dragged me away from a rather fucking delicate situation."

"No idea," Tony shrugs, "but he's good at his job. And he was less drunk than me. We might get you back at the point you left."

"And what would that delicate situation be?" Damon asks. "Entertain me."

"And why should I tell you?"

"First, I bought you that alcohol and you're definitely enjoying it. Second, this is my town and I could tear your throat open if I wanted to." Fuck. He just showed fangs at the both of them. What the fuck. "Also, my murderous former girlfriend who is the cause of all my problems just finally fucked off this planet for good after possessing my current girlfriend who looks like her but really is the whole contrary and my best friend just came back to life after being dead for a whole lot of time and it's a complicated situation and I need a distraction or ten."

"That... sounds like something," Tony mutters, sipping at his alcohol. It's good, at least.

"Believe me, it is. So, what's the poison from Middle Ages here?"

"Ah, fuck that," Jaime says, takes a drink, and starts talking.

--

Half an hour later, Tony thinks that he and Damon are equally staring at the guy with the same disbelieving face.

"... Was that the undead woman that got you like this?" Jaime asks, blinking. "Considering that he seems like he's some kind of living dead, that's a tad hypocritical."

"No," Damon says, "that's the least of my problems. How haven't you frenched this Brienne person already?"

"I frenched?"

"Dude, he's from the Middle Ages," Tony takes pity on him. "He means put your tongue in her mouth."

"I - what - she's not - I'm not -"

"Listen," Damon cuts him, "I've been there. I mean, thinking I couldn't live without an arse who didn't give a fuck about me, which you admitted. But you do realize you spent at least five minutes of your charming tale describing us exactly how this Brienne of yours is ripped and has pretty eyes and was about to die for you?"

"Yeah, uh," Tony says, "let it come from someone who had the right people in front of him for ages and didn't let himself go for it, you really don't wanna drag it any longer."

"That's - she's a knight, that's not -"

"Oh, sure, all knights are shit where you come from, you said that, but suddenly someone would rather hang than kill you and you're here jittering because you got sucked here while she's dealing with a zombie that wanted you dead but I have to think you don't wanna french her?" Damon rolls his eyes again, pours himself another drink and honestly, Tony has cut down on the alcohol lately but he's gonna just make a damned exception. "Please."

"He's right," Tony says, "and also, let it come from someone whose dad was loaded on money and fairly shitty and still way better than yours, whatever he said about you is wrong."

"How do you know -" Jaime starts, half-blanching.

"Told you," Tony shrugs, "loaded on money, shitty father, at least I missed out on the shit sister. Honestly, man, just fucking drop her like hot coal and follow your gut. And let it come from someone who's fucked around a lot to get distracted, if you wanted to bone her in that bath then you're into her."

"I -" Jaime goes red in the face, finishes the drink, "it's not like it ever happened with anyone else before, it was a mistake, most likely -"

Damon gives him a look that looks halfway worried.

Tony thinks he just matched it, except even more worried.

"My vampire friend," he says, "are you thinking what I am thinking?"

"I'm afraid so," Damon says, and then looks back at Jaime. "Newsflash," he goes on, "if you get hard looking at a naked woman most likely you find her attractive. Also, you can find more than one person attractive in your life. And let it come from someone who's been there in the sense that I thought I could only love fucking Katherine, you really don't want to keep on doing it."

"I didn't say I wasn't done with Cersei," Jaime replies, somewhat weakly.

"Good," the two of them reply at the same time, and Tony has to snort.

"Look at that," he says, "for once I'm the one with the healthiest relationship history sitting at a table. Who'd have thought?"

"Fuck this," Damon says, "I'm getting more bourbon."

"Please," Jaime says, and - well. Seems like when Bruce comes to collect him, Tony won't be sober.

--

"Wait," Jaime says, "wait, wait, wait, she possessed your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, well, as if," Damon shrugs, "honestly, sometimes I think I should have just run away to New York after deserting."

"You deserted what?" Tony asks.

"The fucking confederacy," Damon shrugs. "Well, what are you staring about? I'm a vampire, I've been around ages, I'm from fucking middleofnowhere Virginia, you think I got drafted with the unionists? But I disagreed and I hated it and I never wanted to go, so I fucking deserted. I hope you aren't here judging me, or -"

"Please, I used to build weapons for the army and stopped when I realized it wasn't what I wanted to be, and honestly, that just means you have a conscience, so -"

"Wait, you did what," Jaime says.

"Deserted. An army. Back in the day. Risked my neck for it, and I came back and met Katherine and honestly I should have just gone North, but -"

"Hm," Jaime says, drinking, and then - "you don't regret it?"

"No," Damon says at once, "best decision I ever took. Why, you want to do that, too?"

"Sure he wants to," Tony says when Jaime doesn't immediately reply. "Let me guess, not just your army. You want to desert the whole shebang, don't you?"

"I don't know what a fucking shebang is, but yes. So what?"

"Well, if you want my been there done that advice, do that," Damon shrugs. "From what it sounds like, your entire world is collapsing because of zombies anyway, what do you have to lose? Your sister? You're better fucking off without."

Jaime stares down at the glass, then knocks it down. "Can I have another?"

"Sure," Damon says, and generously tips it.

--

"So what," Tony says, "now that your best friend you had a thing with while your girlfriend was with your brother is back to life you're having trouble adjusting?"

"She also hadn't been possessed by my murderous ex until then," Damon shrugs.

Jaime just looks at them, then drinks some more. "Who am I to judge on that anyway," he says, "but that sounds like a lot of work."

"You wouldn't believe," Damon shrugs, knocking down some more of his bourbon. "Never mind that Stefan won't get over brooding instead of fessing up to the girl he is in love with now, but it's not like I hadn't expected it."

"Tell him to," Jaime says at once. "I let my father fuck things up for my brother once and I hate that I ever did, just - don't."

"This is getting fucking eerie," Damon says.

Tony, who is currently feeling very thankful he doesn't have siblings, takes another sip. Then -

"Man, if it's complicated just date the both of them. If they both like you and aren't the kind of super monogamous people that can't handle a threesome once in a while, they won't have a problem."

"... And what do you know?"

He shrug. "Well," he says, "my steady girlfriend was in front of my eyes for years. Took us a while to get over ourselves. The guy I was doing drunk science with, well. Was an instant hit and I didn't let myself drag it in the centuries and guess what, we have a nice lovely arrangement where I'm with both of them, they commiserate about how much of an idiot I can be and sometimes we all occasionally have sex. It's grand. You should try it."

And I really hope Bruce shows up soon.

"Huh," Damon says, "maybe it has merit. For me. Not for you."

Jaime sputters. "I said nothing!"

"You shouldn't even think about threesomes. I can see it in your face you're not the type. And certainly not including your sister."

"Fuck you," Jaime replies without meaning it, "I was not considering that." Huh. Now he sounds offended Damon implied it. Maybe he really will fess up to the other one when he's back.

"Then it means this enlightening talk has enlightened you," Tony grins. "Mind telling us more about that hand?"

"And why?"

Tony shrugs. It's not like he doesn't have time to waste. "What if I could help you with that thing?" He says, nodding towards Jaime's stump, and then - well. Time to test if he can summon the armor here, too.

--

"God," Damon says a while later, "I'll have to compel that poor bartender so hard, but fuck this is something."

Sure it is, Tony grins. "Hey, I managed to fuck with quantum reality, I'm not the first idiot that passes by."

"Seven Hells," Jaime says, "I have no idea what it is you're putting on me but if it works half as well as that thing you have, I'm going to show back up in King's Landing just to show my sister who has the useless hand now. If she didn't get herself killed."

"Well, now that is one reason I could approve of," Tony laughs, "and don't fucking move."

Sure, building a prothesis from the rests of whatever nonfunctioning electronics the bartender had lying around is... somewhat a challenge, but as stated, he has time to waste and it's not like he's wanted anywhere soon.

"By the way," Damon says as he watches him tinker around with the toolkit he found him in the backroom, "do you need advice in the whole I fucked up and want my brother to forgive me department?"

"What if I do?" Jaime replies through his teeth. "Because now that would distract me from how much this entire thing is fucking hurting."

The more they talk while he tinkers, the more Tony decides he's absolutely glad he was an only child and that his father only fucked one son up.

--

"You're doing this while not even being fucking sober?" Damon knocks back more bourbon. "You sure you don't wanna stay here and turn into an immortal? You'd be useful."

"Thanks but I like my life as it is," Tony snorts. "But if you need tech tinkered with, you can ask while I'm here."

Jaime is just staring at the steel-colored hand coming to life while Tony puts piece after piece together, his throat working up and down.

He drinks some more. "Fuck, if only I had such a thing when I realized what the fuck Aerys had turned into."

"Wait, who's Aerys now?" Damon asks.

--

He hadn't told them that part in detail.

When he's done and Tony is at the fourth finger, he kind of wants to hurl, but mostly -

"Do we really have to stay here," Damon says, "or you think we could sneak him to a VA? I can compel them to just hear that he's talking about Vietnam or something."

"He's not old enough for Vietnam, but you know what, I think we could risk that."

"What in the Seven Hells is a VA?"

"Someone I really could have used in the nineteenth century," Damon sighs, and then just as Tony moves to the last finger -

"Tony, what the hell is this?"

--

Turns out, where Bruce comes from it took him two days to figure this out. He also immediately spots three different improvements Tony could do to that hand, and when he hears the entire shebang he raises his hands and says that he can send Jaime right back when he left at any point and he and Tony, too, but he supposes that if they want to compel the VA before they leave it's not like he's in a hurry, and wait, vampires?

Damon ends up asking him if the threesome thing is really working out as well as Tony says.

While he does, Tony manages the finishing touches on the sort-of-steel-and-iron-hand he cobbled up together, and thank fuck Bruce showed up because he had been the one studying how Barnes's arm worked, back in the day, and gave Tony the pointer he needed to make sure the entire thing was... well, connected to the nervous system without needing to rip Jaime's wrist open.

"Right," he says, "try to move the fingers."

Jaime holds them in a fist.

It works.

"Seven fucking hells -"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a genius. Just keep it out of too many lines of fire, but if you're from the middle ages it should withstand most stuff. You're welcome. And go french that knight of yours instead of waiting, really."

"I think in between him and you, you've made a case. Uh, thank you, I -"

"Nonsense, I was the reason you're here, I might as well have helped out. Hey," he says, "so, what about a last round before we drag him to the VA and Bruce here settles everything?"

"I'm so down for it," Damon says.

"Do I even have a choice," Bruce groans, but then he does sit down at the same table and lets Tony fill his glass.

"Oh, don't look like that," Tony says, "after all I didn't destroy the universe and made some friends, it could have gone worse."

"Wouldn't know about that, but I could have done worse, too," Damon says, and orders more bourbon.

"I sure as the fucking Seven Hells will never manage to explain this to anyone," Jaime says, "but I guess I'm not too disappointed, either."

"Tony," Bruce groans, "did you manage to somehow end up with two people with - never mind. Of course you did. We're never doing drunk science again, hear me?"

"Maybe so," Tony agrees, though... well.

Maybe he will want to check on them, once in a while.

But he can think about how to convince Bruce to make sure they can later.

For now, he'll enjoy his last round.

[lawyering-and-running]

Chapter 4 - Don't Shoot The Messenger

Series Masterlist

♡ Pretty proud of this one beauties. Don't forget I'm open to suggestions and/or requests xx ♡

Nicole had been sat by the fire for a while, one of the women had passed her a bowl of warm stew and a flask of water. Yet despite feeling more comfortable than she had in months she couldn’t relax. The idea of not knowing what was happening back in Small Heath was nearly too much. That was her town too, why should she not protect it just because she had something different between her legs. She was just as capable as some of the men. Mind made up, she put down her bowl and stretched out her legs. She quickly thanked the women for their kindness before setting off.

Quickly she ran back towards small heath climbing up onto the rooftops until she found her favourite, on top of one of the warehouses with great views of the canals. She raised a flag on top of the building, lighting a fire beside it. A beacon to signal to her people that she needed a meeting. Shelby’s had their family meetings; the runners had their own. She did not have to wait long before the others started the respond. Shadowy figures dropped down on to the roof until all seven of them were gathered.

“We all know what’s happening in those streets below us, and what’s going to happen. This is our home, we know it better than anyone, so we’re going to protect it.” The group was made up of two other girls and four boys, all lean from years of too little food and too much activity. All in dark grey clothing and covered in a fine layer of dirt, they really did look like shadows come alive. When it comes to fight or flight instincts the usual for the group was of course flight. They were used to being ignored, eyes peering into the dark privy to the city’s secrets because nobody realised they were listening in. Nameless, faceless, and voiceless.

But now. As this group stood before her, she realised that maybe they all had an equally strong fight response. Nobody moved to leave, nobody looked scared. “All right then Nik, what’s the plan?” asked Kaz, one of the boys. “I say we use what we’re good at. That we take down Kimber’s men before they even know we’re there. That we keep an eye on things when the other Peakies are unable to do so.” The others nodded their heads in agreement reaching into pockets for hidden switchblades and razors. “Let’s show them what we’ve got” Nina, one of the girls, cheered raising her fist in the air.

Nicole moved towards the edge of the building, looking down at where she could see the men gathering. ”May we die in the shadows as we were born” she said. The group repeated back ”May we die in the shadows as we were born” they wouldn’t quite consider each other family, none of them really knew the concept, but they did have an understanding that they were all one and the same and that they were in this together. With everything said and done the group moved across rooftops, spreading out before slithering down into dark corners, lying in wait.

A hush descended over the group of men as Nicole watched the Shelby brothers from her alleyway, hidden behind a stack of crates. Suddenly Tommy’s voice rang out “It doesn't have to be like this, Kimber.” Kimber’s nasty voice replied “Too late for all that. You've bit off more than you can chew, you little toerag. And now I'm going to take over this shithole.” Nicole quietly fumed, it was no London, but it was their little corner of the world, no way was this outsider going to come in here and disrespect her home. She reigned herself in, it wasn’t her place, wasn’t even her personality really. She stayed hidden watching the conversation take place.

“Now now Kimber, that isn't very polite. I expected something more from a man of your grand standing.” Tommy mocked. “Listen here you little shit, I am going to kill all of you. Every last one of you fuckin Peakies. Then I am going to burn this place to the ground, maybe build myself another racetrack instead. Whilst you lot all rot in hell.” Steam was practically pouring out of Kimber’s ears. His face had gone an odd shade of red, his moustache twitching. It would have probably made for a funny picture if it were not for the seriousness of the situation. Although Nicole swore she could see that glint of amusement in Tommy’s cold blue eyes from where she was perched.

Tommy remained unbothered by the mounting tension in front of him, he shrugged “So that’s how it’s going to be.” Suddenly all hell broke loose. Both sides running for each other, opponents nearly indistinguishable. The loud bangs of gunfire rang through the streets as screams filled the air. Already a hazy mist of blood was settling over them. Nicole saw a Peaky struggling against one of Kimber’s, she crept up behind him and quick as lightning she stabbed him in the neck. She’d rehidden herself by the time the body slumped to the floor, the Peaky looking around for who had saved him.

She continued to dart out where possible to help others in difficult positions, trying as hard as she could to ensure that none of her people lost their lives today. That none of the women of Small Heath would be turned into Widows by the day’s events. She recognised her other runners doing the same, a flash of black, a glint of a blade as they wove through the fighting.

In all of the chaos Nicole had lost track of where the Shelby brothers were. Too focused on what was directly in front of her to think of anything else. She had just unarmed a Kimber for a Peaky to finish off when she saw Kimber raising his gun up to Tommy just a couple of steps away. No one else seemed to have noticed that their fearsome leader was quickly running out of options, his own gun nowhere in sight. Flat cap no match at a distance to a loaded gun. No other thought in mind she jumped for Kimber’s outstretched hand.

Time seemed to slow as she became airborne. As if she were trapped in a bubble, the sounds around her became muffled, tunnel vision focused solely on the weapon. Hands knocking the gun away time sped back up, as noise rushed back in. Angry shouts. She thought she heard a “What the fuck are you doing here?” but that was not important.

She tumbled to the ground with Kimber’s heavy body. The two rolling around trying to gain an upper hand. She lost her blade in the shuffle and had not accounted for Kimber having a backup weapon. Her mistake. Her tired body was no match for his larger frame as he lodged the knife into her shoulder. Yelling obscenities at her. A white-hot numbness spread through her body; she had not felt anything like this before. A pain far more vivid and sharp than a sprained ankle.

Before Kimber could actually finish her off there was a loud bang, the loudest Nicole had heard that day. The weight of a dead body suddenly pressing in on her. Kimber’s unseeing eyes gazing into her own. There was a warm wetness trickling over her, but very little seemed to really be registering in her mind. Her limbs becoming heavy from blood loss and perhaps shock. The heavy body was shoved off of her. The man she had saved appearing above her. “Why would you do something like that, ey?” Tommy asked. His body kneeling next to hers to try and stem the blood flow. All that escaped Nicole was a moan of pain.

A hysterical thought bubbled into her mind, why the hell did she care so much about a gangster. She had only spoken a couple of words to him. Maybe her luck had finally run out, drowned in her own stupidity. Clearly those blue eyes had more of an effect on her than she thought. She laughed out loud, lest she cry out from the pain otherwise. Her eyes shut as the blue-eyed face hovered above her, lips moving but nothing registering in her ringing ears. Then nothing.

Upon seeing Kimber fall the remaining few of his men had quickly tucked tail and run away. The cause no longer worth dying for. The Peakies cheered. “You don’t mess with the PEAKY FUCKIN BLINDERS!” Arthur shouted to even louder cheers. Turning to see Tommy’s crouched form the other two brothers ran over to help. “Is that the girl from before? What’s she doing here?” John questioned. “I don’t bloody know John. She just appeared and saved my life like some fuckin guardian angel. Help me carry her into the Garrison, we need to stitch up the wound.” The men lifted up her limp body as six pairs of eyes watched from the shadows, ready to help but feeling useless all the same. I quite murmur rippled through the group, but a whisper ”May we die in the shadows as we were born” Nicole’s life was in the hands of the Shelby’s now.

They burst through the doors of the pub shoving aside glasses as they laid her body on the table. Tommy ripped her shirt sleeve, heavy and slippery from the blood. Suddenly Polly was by their side as well “Someone get me some whiskey” she commanded whilst taking out a sewing kit. Arthur thrust the bottle at Tommy. He poured half the bottle over the wound grateful that the poor girl was already unconscious for this before pouring the rest of Polly’s waiting hands and needle. His work done he slumped back as Arthur passed him a new bottle of whiskey, this one meant for drinking. He took a couple of gulps as he slowly came down from the adrenaline. The fight, nearly losing his own life, being saved, and then this girl who he for some unexplainable reason cared for nearly dying. Slowly his shaking hands steadied as the alcohol took effect.

Polly had meanwhile sown up the wound and wrapped it in a cloth to stem any further blood flow. Nicole would be alright now. “What a day” she sighed grabbing the bottle from Tommy and taking a swig. Tommy stood up, carrying Nicole to one of the benches and covering her up with his warm black coat. Moving back towards the bar, he turned to face his family “If you check behind the bar Arthur... you will find a bottle of champagne.” Arthur fetched the bottle as Tommy continued “Today was a good day, we only lost a couple of men. All of Kimber's men were busy here, so we managed to take all of the pitches at the Worcester races.” Arthur popped the cork on the bottle “It couldn't have gone better if we'd planned it.” He poured some into the various glasses “Shelby Brothers Limited are now the third largest legal racetrack operation in the country.” Handing them out to the three other family members and keeping one for himself “Cheers! Only the Sabinis and the Solomons are bigger than us. And all my family is here to celebrate. To Shelby Brothers Limited.” “Shelby!” “Brothers!” “Cheers.” Rang out through the room. “There'll be others.” Polly spoke up in warning. Tommy merely raised his glass and toasted her again “To the others. All of them.” His eyes had settled on Nicole’s sleeping form, to new beginnings he thought to himself.

[tsunchani]

heeseung - strangers

࿐ྂ (@enhypenwriters collaboration)

࿐ྂ word count: 5.8k+

࿐ྂ pairing: stranger!heeseung x stranger!reader

࿐ྂ genre: PG-15, strangers to lovers!au and 1990's!au

࿐ྂ warning: a bit sad. heeseung first relationship! lee heeseung fans line up!

࿐ྂ credits:

special thanks to...

1. lovely twinnie @chaoticdeobi! thank you love for being my beta-reader! my twinnie was meant to expand it, i am owning the storyline! + she falls for heeseung.

2. bong-vely sissy @jung-snoopy-woo, thank you for liking the story and encourage me with your lovely words!

࿐ྂ pritty's note: i am sorry, it’s delayed i know T_T!

so this is for you guys! i hope you like it, please comment and reblog! enjoy the story love!

23rd June, 1991.

“Yo, Heeseung, my man!” The mentioned lad grinned, approaching his campus best friend, Jay, and greeting him with a high five. Heeseung smiled widely, delighted to meet his friend even if it was probably the last time he’d see him in person, in a very long time. 

After getting transferred to one of Australia’s universities, it was only appropriate for Jay to host a farewell party, at least.

“Yo Jay, my handsome man!”

“Yeah, I am the handsome man here!” He replied, opening his arms and acknowledging the compliment, although there wasn’t a hint of conceit in his voice.

“Well, I mean, girls are all over you.” Heeseung jokes, right hand inside his pocket as he slung the other on Jay's shoulder.

“Come on now, we both know who’s fooling around, heeseung. Girls are all over you.” Bringing his wine glass to his mouth, he sipped on the cola and savored the flavor lingering on his lips and tongue.

Heeseung chuckled, then turning his head to glance at the waitress holding a tray with drinks placed on it. Heeseung didn’t miss the way her eyes were already fixed on his figure. He grabbed the cola smoothly from the tray when she passed by him, without daring to make eye contact with her. He didn’t want another girl outside the campus to be all over him. He had enough people swarming over for his attention, and he definitely did not want to be held accountable for any future heartbreaks he didn’t mean to make. 

People. All over him. Everyday. 

Heeseung had never dated; he always refused when his friends set him up on blind dates. Many have tried and failed, attempting to figure out how to set him up, but never succeeded. And so they simply gave up. 

Jay opened his mouth, only to close it back again when Heeseung pointed his index finger at him, knowing he knew what Jay wanted to say.

“I haven’t said anything!” 

“I know what you wanted to say. Just shut it.”

Jay rolled his eyes along with a shake of his head, shrugging and muttering, “If you say so.” 

He takes a sip of his drink again.

Heesung changed the topic, and it didn’t take long until the conversation between them drifted well. Soon, and before they knew it, Jay’s girlfriend chirped in, discoursing with them as well.

Soon enough, their conversation went wild; there’s laughing all around, talking about school stuff, the hilarious moments they had, reminiscing the moments they’ve had with their other friends just in an attempt to bring back nostalgia. Then, before Heeseung knew it again, the issue about relationships had resurfaced.

While it was nothing detrimental to him, Heeseung still turned away and tried not to listen to it. Deep inside, he knew where the topic where Jay and his girlfriend were heading to. So instead, he tried to distract himself by looking at the people around him one by one, trying to recognize the familiar faces from the campus. 

Of course. Jay was a sociable person so he invited people that he knew, including his brother and his sister’s friends. Being a ‘known guy’ on and off campus sure had its perks.

Just when he wanted to rejoin the conversation of Jay and his lover, he caught sight of you, in your dazzling glory, from across the room. Heeseung, stunned on his spot, observed you for a whole minute, inwardly hoping he did not look like a weird stalker as of the moment. Then, his brain went outright blank after hearing your laugh from a distance, then finally seeing your pearly smile. 

He felt disoriented, like he’s petrified and doesn’t know what to do next.

All Heeseung knew was that your friend was laughing, followed by you with the topic that she had brought up. Then, to his surprise, you turned around, accidentally making eye contact with just the man who was watching you. That lasted for a brief moment, for in an instant, you were back to laughing around with your friend, your voice seemingly growing louder by the second you get more amused.

Beautiful, Heeseung thought. Your hand covered the wide smile on your lips, and yet he couldn’t bear to take his eyes off of you. 

Didn’t he just tell Jay to shut up about relationships? About potential lovers? But, why did he suddenly feel like he wants to listen to your laugh all day, wants to make you smile for as long as he could, have you in his arms as you rejoice in the euphoria of his love? That isn’t what falling in love feels like, isn’t it? It can’t be.

Heeseung surprised himself when he took a step the moment your friend walked away. He was shy, of course he was, but then you stood alone, hand gently placed on top of your elbow, waiting for somebody to come and entertain you. Then you looked back at Heeseung’s spot again, heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact with him for the second time tonight. And with the way you chewed on your bottom lip shyly before looking away, it was enough for Heeseung to know that you were merely waiting for him to make the first move.

He was about to take a step, then he backed away again. He couldn’t just approach you like that… can he? He probably needed some kind of backup or bridge to get to know you.

But as if the heavens heard his scrambled thoughts, it was thanks to destiny that Jay’s sister just happened to walk by in front of him.

“Hey, Dini.” Heeseung caught her arm. She jerked her head as she munched on her snack.

“Whot?” She asked with muffled words, cheeks resembling that of a chipmunk.

“D-d-do you know that girl?” Dini followed where Heeseung was pointing to, shy eyes barely looking at your figure, who stood stiffly on the same spot, unmoving. Dini chuckled and turned to look at Heeseung.

“So, you could fall in love, Mr. Lee.” Dini eyed the brunette man beside her, smirking as she took notice of the way his eyes clung to your face.

“Oh shut it, Park. Just help me get to know her.” Heeseung hissed, embarrassed with her teasing.

“Oof, nice mouth, Lee.” Dini mocked shock while smirking at the flustered man. Heeseung, who seemed unfazed, only glared at her.

“What?” She blinked.

Seconds later, Dini merely rolled her eyes before she walked ahead of Heeseung, lifting and wiggling her index finger as a signal for him to follow her lead. 

“C’mon Lee.” 

Heeseung's eyes lit up as he followed the little Park. His heartbeat started to race the closer he got to you. Then, Dini stopped to call your name, to catch your attention. Heeseung almost clumsily bumped into Dini’s back like a lost little child.

He regained composure the moment you turned your head, hair flipping back as you looked at their direction with a smile. Heeseung’s heart,  now unpredictable, thudded like crazy against his chest as beads of sweat rolled down his temple and gathered on his palms.

“y/n, this is Heeseung. Jake’s best friend. Heeseung, this is y/n, my friend and Rina’s sister.”

Heeseung instantly extended  his hand to you, shyly enough for you to know that he’s quite hesitant as you are. Slowly,  you enclosed your hand in his in a handshake. 

You had to admit, even you cannot look into his beautiful eyes.

The moment your hand touched his, he felt sparks sparkling inside his stomach and his mind instantly went crazy. His breath became shaky, though he still tried his best to give you a smile.

“Hi, y/n. Glad to meet you.” Your ears and the stars in your eyes perked up when a manly yet cute, soft, voice came out of his lips and called your name. Deciding to lift your head, your gaze then met the galaxy in his eyes. Your heart raced against your chest again, like a teenager with a clumsy little crush, your skin crawling and tingling from head to toe. But then you tried your best to conceal your shyness, and gave him a smile.

“Hi, Heeseung, I’m glad to meet you.” At that moment, Heeseung was already smiling from ear to ear.

Thoughts started to fill his mind, and suddenly, he thought that maybe having one more person fall for him wouldn’t seem to be too bad after all— but rather what he somehow wanted. With both of you standing there, hands still clasping each other’s, you shyly looked away as Dini cleared her throat.

“Excuse me lovebirds. Don’t wanna be a third wheel here.” Dini said with a faux annoyed voice, glancing at Heeseung with a smirk on her face.

“Start your move, Lee.” She whispered just as she patted his shoulder before passing by him completely.

As Heeseung withdrew his hand, you shyly tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear. From here, everything would be alright. 

After all, all it took was for you to meet Heeseung, a mere stranger a few moments ago, and yet you don’t know why you want to believe in love again. But it’s special, isn’t it? 

It must be.

Heeseung had his head buried into his hand, fingers brushing over his features as he sighed. He sat beside the home telephone, the wind blowing harshly from outside the open window as if to boo him. 

24th June, 1991.

The whole day, he’d been thinking about stuff, and it wasn’t exactly one you would ever want to hear. Why?

“What’s her name again?”

“I forgot.”

“Lee heeseung, you idiot!”

“Says you!”

And he couldn’t believe it himself. After a whole night of talking, and maybe even flirting, he still forgot your name.

Dating mustn't really be for him.

No. More like, falling in love really isn’t for him.

But then, it might be too early to actually declare anything, right?

As if the lightbulb above Heeseung’s head lit up, he lifted his head, backtracking the events that had happened in the party. Dini left, you both began to talk, hours passed, you were both delirious, he was borderline drunk, so Jay came in to rescue his friend from embarrassing himself, and then you waved goodbye, he started babbling, and so to shut him up… Jay slipped something into his palm.

That’s it.

Heeseung stood up and ran into his room. Taking a small paper in his hand, he ran back to the living room, grabbing the telephone and began punching the numbers written on the paper. 

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Heeseung placed the paper beside the telephone, still anxiously eyeing the number, praying it’s your home’s phone number and not some prank. It continued ringing, until on the seventh ring, the phone was finally picked up.

“Hello?” —came from the other line. Heeseung’s ears perked up in a mix of surprise and embarrassment. It’s not your voice, it’s a man’s voice. And if this was not your phone number, he swore to himself he’d pummel Jay for it.

“Hello, Mr., This is Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. I’m looking for, um— is this, um—” 

“Are you perhaps… looking for y/n?”

When the familiar name left the man’s mouth, Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he found himself inhaling a shaky breath.

“Y-yes, sir. That’s her name.” Heeseung mumbled, blinking blankly while he licked his lips anxiously. 

“Alright,” He said, and then there’s a plop from the other line. Heeseung bit his lip and anxiously bounced his legs, hoping he wasn’t too late to finally hit a score.

On the other side of the line, you sat peacefully atop your bed, nibbling on the crown of the pen in your hand— brows drawn into a furrow.

Something about the prose you wrote didn’t seem right.

“y/n, honey!” Called your dad, his voice muffled from the other side of your door.

“Yeah, dad?” You replied without removing your gaze from your little notebook. When he didn’t respond, you looked at the door for a few seconds. Still nothing.

Sighing, you slipped your slippers on, dragging your feet to approach the door.

“Yeah, daddy?” Opening the door and poking your head out from its crack, you turned your head to face your dad’s distinct figure. With the phone in between his shoulder and ear, it was his turn to turn to you, jerking his head towards the phone on the table.

“Heeseung.” He mouthed, and so your eyebrows jerked up reflexively.

“Heeseung?” You repeated softly, blinking as you closed the door behind you and approached your father. Softly, you took it from his hand, sitting on the little couch just beside the table. 

Just before you were about to say something, you glanced at your father, who chuckled and generously urged you on, that it’s okay for you to talk to him. Slowly, you placed the phone beside your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was a little shaky, and the fact that you know very well it was obvious made blood rush to your cheek. Luckily, Heeseung didn’t seem to mind.

“Hey,  y/n, it’s Heeseung.”

And oh god, do you feel butterflies at the sound of his voice. Shyly, you tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Hi, Heeseung.” You greeted him right before chewing on your lower lip. Like a teenager in the peak stage of delirious puppy love, your fingers found its way onto the ringed wires of the phone, and you started to twirl it repeatedly around your finger in giddiness. “What’s up?”

“So, uh… I—” He paused, and with the way he repeatedly hissed at himself, you bit on your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing. “I just— ugh, fine, I will go straight to the point.” 

He gulped, and then there was silence on the other side of the line for a while. You heard his stuttering, the loud shaky breaths that he kept on taking. He sounded like he was in the peak state of panic, and when the silence grew longer, your brows slowly started to furrow.

“Heeseung? Are you there? Are you o—”

“Go on a date with me?”

Pause.

And then, you could only break into a wide grin.

A mix of words began to flow into your mind, and even though it seemed to be coming in out of excitement and shock, it made sense.

You just know that after the phone call, your notebook will be filled with everything you’ve never thought of. And by the end of the night, your prose will become the most phenomenal one you’ve written yet.

Heeseung still couldn’t believe he was standing in front of your front door, because he asked you out on a date.

1st July, 1991.

He asked you out.

On a date.

Normally, he wouldn’t have given himself so much praise because he wasn’t conceited, but even he himself could not believe it. He finally asked somebody out, not the other way around, and he was pretty damn sure he’s got the hots for you.

And to top all that, you said yes.

The car key clanged against his ring and the jittery boy couldn’t help but slightly jolt on his spot. Upon hearing footsteps come closer to the door, he reached up to make sure his shirt was properly buttoned. The front door opened and he quickly tucked his shirt a bit out from his pants, then inwardly praying you were into that kind of style.

“Bye mum, bye dad!” Rung your voice as you opened the door, giving your smiley parents a wave before finally facing the stupefied man on your doorstep.

Do something.

Lee Heeseung, do some freaking thing.

It was what his mind was telling him to do, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Heeseung stood frozen on his spot, adoring your stylish get-up and the equally shy look on your face.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Heeseung’s eyes widened as he spoke, snapping out of his trance at the same time shaking his head at himself. “Y-you look… gorgeous.” He said in a whisper-like voice, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck shyly.

You chuckled, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. “Thank you.”

“S-shall we?” He asked, stepping aside and extending a hand to gesture to his car. Looking ahead, you saw how badly his hand was shaking, and although you felt the urge to laugh, you didn’t want to embarrass him further, even if for you, it was terribly cute.

“We shall.” You nodded, and heeseung cleared his throat with a bashful smile on his lips.

“Excellent.” He mumbled before making way for you to walk ahead. On the outside, he seemed to look like a semi-calm lad on his first date, maybe a little jittery here and there. But on the inside, he was internally cursing at himself on whether he should’ve held his arm out to you or not. For one, he did not want you to feel uncomfortable about how bold he might’ve seemed. But two, it was supposed to be an act of chivalry. 

And yet, the little grin on your face said it all.

Comfortable. That’s how you felt, and it was more than enough.

Lee Heeseung, with the way he moved and acted, showed how he wasn’t rushing to start a relationship, but at the same time made it known to you that he’s seriously interested in you. That he doesn’t want this date to be another mere joke time or something to pass the days by with.

At that moment in time, maybe, you were a little more than strangers, but still a little less than friends.

But something inside of you seemed to assure you that you will be more, in due time.

“Well, my father was driving and his fart was… rather… gut-churning.” 

17th August, 1991.

Choking on your food, Heeseung’s laugh seemed to echo in your space inside the restaurant. Immediately, his hand came up to cup your jaw, carefully tilting your head whilst his other hand reached over for the cup of water.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth out of shyness, but your hand landed above Heeseung’s instead. With your other hand, you took the glass of water from his hand, mumbling a little ‘thank you’ to him. Quietly, you drank the water in one go to relax your throat. 

You made sure to mumble a quick apology, and Heeseung merely shook his head with a little laugh as if to dismiss it.

 The restaurant was elegantly decorated; slow music coming out of the phonograph on the corner where couples danced around at. Both of you kept talking, telling funny stories to each other, relishing in the romantically funny atmosphere. He kept bringing up topics that you were interested in, like how he met Jay and spent most of the time benefiting off of the free meals he’d bought him from being a third wheel. 

To say the least, hearing the ‘boring’ life that he had, as what he had claimed, before you arrived, was piquing your interest. And it’s not because you’re a chest-full of pride for going on a date with the rather ‘undateable’ Lee Heeseung, but because he seemed to really be sincere in liking your presence. Like you had made a significant difference in his life, stronger and harder than you never even thought you would.

Seconds later, silence engulfed the atmosphere, with you and Heeseung staring down onto your now empty plates while the music began to waltz louder into your eardrums. You both exchanged shy glances before snorting at your awkward selves, then looking back down again. 

Just then, the faint screech of a chair being pushed back catched your attention. Lifting your head, you saw Heeseung extending his hand to you. As if to clarify if you were thinking of the same thing, you locked eyes with him for a moment. 

Heeseung nodded and smiled, urging for you to take it, and so you didn’t waste any more time. Holding the napkin from your lap to put on the dining table, you pushed your chair back and stood up, and Heeseung brought you to the dance floor.

Slowly, you began facing each other, and you felt your heart patter wildly against your chest. You were face to face, and it’s not like usual, but you liked it. You liked the feeling. 

Heeseung brought your hands to loop behind his neck, though he wasn’t looking you in the eye. A faint blush graced his cheeks, and so teasingly, you stepped in even closer. Heeseung blinked rapidly for a few seconds before you bursted into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Lee Heeseung. It’s okay to touch me, you know. You can’t keep your hands on your sides forever while we dance.” You grabbed his hand gently, placing it onto your waist. Heeseung inhaled a deep, shaky, breath, but he was trying to bite back a smile.

Soon, both of you swayed along to the music, and the soothing mellow tunes made you slowly begin to lean your head on his shoulder. Your head touched his clothed chest, and you immediately felt his body tense up for a bit before he finally let loose.

“Are you comfortable with this?” Asked him, and a buzz ran down your spine upon hearing his honey-like voice next to your ear. Nodding, you snuggled even closer to his chest, to which you felt it rumble as he let out an adoring chuckle. 

A few more seconds into the song and Heeseung calls your name.

Slowly, you lifted your head to give him a curious look, but you were immediately met with his startlingly sparkly orbs. His gaze remained on you for a while until he finally inhaled a breath and said,

 “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

To say the least, Heeseung felt his heart lighten a bit after he asked you to be his. ‘Twas like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest, though the uncertainty of what you have to say still beared much weight. Something inside him told him that somehow, it’ll be alright.

For strangers, it might seem to be a little too soon.

But Heeseung believed he shouldn’t wait a lifetime for his happiness to come through when you were already standing right in front of him, shimmering eyes waiting for him to pop the question, lips ready to share the sweetness of your answer.

17th August, 1992.

A year later,

After a year through all of it, Heeseung was more than happy. Euphoric, even. One of the things you’ve both grown to love was having to ride a bike to each other’s houses to bond, sneaking out at late nights to watch the stars, or just going out together on day dates. It was your favorite quality time bonding with him; spending hours on the telephone, or maybe even having to meet at your favorite diner downtown. 

Even with the clashing schedules of work, Heeseung made an effort to make you feel happy and loved. There was not a day that passed that he didn’t.

In front of the calendar stood Heeseung, in all his formally handsome glory, staring at the red mark on the paper with a joyous grin.

1st Anniversary with y/n.

He smiled, straightening his back and fixing his brown shirt before he walked to the garage to pick his old bike, a lily bucket flower in his hand. With a little frown on his lips, he sighed, internally cursing Jay for having to have a date with Rina on the same day of your anniversary, and had to borrow his car.

But even though Jake’s beating could wait, your anniversary could not. He’ll deal with him later. For now, he’ll have a long journey ahead of him.

In which, he really is.

“Heeseung? Oh my, you’re sweating.” You gasped as soon as you opened the door, brows drawn into a furrow. But Heeseung was still smiling widely at you like an idiot in love.

“For you, dear. Happy anniversary, I love you.” 

Heeseung interjected, ignoring the way you looked so worried while wiping the beads of sweat on his temples. Handing you the bucket of lilies, he placed a sweet kiss on your temple which caught you off guard. Taking the bucket, you inhaled the flowers’ scent. 

Just what you love.

Just the thought of Heeseung going through a whole lot to bike his way to your house, and give you a little token of love was enough to make your heart and day full. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you looked up at Heeseung before jumping into his arms, hugging him with a huge smile on your face. Heeseung stumbled a bit backwards due to the shock, but a few seconds later and he was hugging you back, an enamored smile on his lips as he placed a peck on your cheek.

“Thank you, sung!” You backed away, staring at his pretty smile before pinching his cheeks hard. He whined and groaned in pain, though he was laughing along with you. Until he couldn’t feel his cheeks, you let go, making it up to him quickly by placing a quick peck on his lips, then looking around cautiously to see if anybody had seen it.

Upon seeing the coast was clear, you giggled and looked up to adore his smiley face.

“Let's go inside, join the dinner with mum and dad.”

23 March 1993

It was everything you could ever ask for.

You and Heeseung never knew that a sheet of paper could make somebody tremble so badly.

The paper, printed with the logo where Heeseung works at, is shaking in his hand, lightly crumpling by the edge with the way he gripped it. The pounding of his heart was no joke, it reached his ears

“Heesung…”

Quickly, he shut his eyes to stabilize his breathing, inhaling and exhaling so many times, fingers clenched into a fist. Soon, he felt another hand take his; one that helped him throughout his ups and downs in life. A hand that always encouraged him with what he had to do, for his best in his life and for his future. You rubbed circles on the back of his palm and he let out a shaky breath and opened his eyes. His eyes darted from the front to lock with yours, your eyes full of worry yet it made him calm.

Encouragingly, you gave him a smile, he nodded. It’s time.

Letting go of his hand, his index finger and thumb slowly opened the folded paper. 

Top left, and you saw the company name. 

You just needed the bottom fold. 

Heesung trembled a bit before he finally slid his thumb to reveal the answer at the bottom page.

And then, he exhales the breath he was holding.

He took one glance at you, and he saw that your eyes were shaking as you stared at the piece of paper.

Rome.

His company sent him to Rome to continue his work. For two years. 

Placing your hand on top of his, you slowly faced him, and he felt his heart hurt at the sight of your worried face. You kept on mumbling, ‘“It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be alright.” But the quiver of your voice and the tears rolling down your cheeks said otherwise. 

“I can… I can—” He stuttered, gulping as he tried to come up with something to say. At that moment, you were already letting your tears flow, although you choked back your inaudible sobs.

Silence.

Both you and Heeseung knew that he needed to do it for his dream. He needed it so he could live, and make a living. And you both knew that a long distance relationship like this wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t, because love is never enough, even when it’s all that you have.

But of course you knew that Heeseung was willing to give it all up for you, too. And yet, as selfish as you want yourself to be, you still don’t want him to give it all up for you. He has to put himself first.

And so, with a facade, you sniffled, shutting your eyes close as you mumbled under your breath,

“Let’s break up. If it’s what’s best for us.”

And just like that, everything that you could ever ask for, was taken from you in the blink of an eye.

You could only hope that by the time he’s back, he wouldn’t become a stranger you just used to know.

September, 1995.

Two years later. 

“y/n, do you want to go home together?”

Snapping out of your daze, you quickly shoved the piece of printed paper back inside of your binder. Looking up, you flashed your campus friends a smile with a quirked brow.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. I should just fix up first. You two can go ahead, I’ll catch up!” And so they nodded, doing as you told them to do. When the door slammed shut and they were out of your sight, your smile fell off of your face. And for a brief moment, your fingers, still halfway inside the binder, slowly pulled the photograph back out again.

Not a day passed when you didn’t look longingly at the only memory you have left of Heeseung. Every single day, you even think you forgot how he looked, a little bit more.

Maybe you regret that you broke up with him.

You sighed hopelessly to yourself.

You really do.

But was there anything you could’ve done, and could do?

Sliding the photograph back in, you shoved the binder inside of your bag before you grabbed it and headed out, not wanting to keep your friends waiting.

In fact, there is one thing you could still do.

And it was to continually hope that Heeseung is safe, even if he was no longer in your arms.

Refusing to succumb to the calling of sleep, he rubbed his eyes before straightening up again, working on the papers he’d received from his boss in record speed in hopes of avoiding getting scolded. 

Heeseung sighed heavily, sinking deeper to his office chair. One that he’d been repeatedly wearing out by occupying every single day for two whole years. Heck, he couldn’t even feel uncomfortable in it anymore now that he’d gotten used to it; not like he wanted to, though.

Focus.

Focus.

Focus—

He took a glance from a picture on his desk.

Okay, now back to work—

And then his eyes went back to the photograph. A longer stare. 

A bitter smile graced his lips as he saw the look on your face when he’d surprised you on your graduation day. Your smile was the most precious thing for him, he loved seeing it on you. Perhaps, it still is and he still does, too.

Lifting a hand, his finger caressed the frame. He missed you like crazy, mad crazy. If only��

Thoughts began to cloud his head again, and so he shook his head aggressively in a poor attempt to redirect his thoughts. He successfully snapped out of his trance the moment the intern named Jungwon cleared his throat from behind him before sliding a few stacks of papers onto Heeseung’s desk.

The intern had always found him staring at the photograph clipped onto his desk, and it went without saying that the younger understood. At times when Heeseung was starting to get miserable, the least he could do was disturb him with a ton of work, just like he asked.

December 1995.

But deep down, Heeseung still wished for a chance to meet you again.

Heeseung stood stiffly on the familiar grounds of his childhood, his knees still slightly wobbling and fingers still trembling even though he’d been catching up with a lot of people for hours now. Tens and hundreds of other people were still pushing past him, relishing in the night with loud chattering and laughter, the nostalgia of meeting each other in a reunion oddly exciting enough for them.

Perhaps it wasn’t much of a good idea, but Jay had convinced him to come for it was something “harmless”. It didn’t exactly work the same way for them, but he found himself coming, anyway.

The campus looked the same, the people who attended were the same, the people who attended asked the same questions. There was nothing much to see.

Heeseung couldn’t do anything but swirl his drink around his glass repeatedly to amuse himself. Then, he blankly looked down at the liquid, his other hand fiddling with the cloth of the standing bar table. As a sigh escaped his lips, he lifted his head, and it was as if time stopped.

There you were, having just arrived, one of your childhood friends making your presence known to your other batchmates. It was as if Heeseung had no control over himself, for before he could make himself aware of what he was doing, he was already calling for your name.

“y/n.”

Just like that, you turned your head and faced him, the smile on your lips fading, but your eyes made a sheer glimmer.

“Heeseung.” You whispered out, clearing your throat before excusing yourself from your batchmates and taking a few steps closer towards him. “Fancy seeing you here. I really thought you wouldn’t come.”

You fiddled with your clothes, not making eye contact with him. He did the same, his hand now stiffly pressing his wine glass on the table while he tried to calm himself down.

Heeseung gulped, “You too.”

And then silence. Awkward silence. 

Thankfully enough, the emcees on the stage began to announce the start of the countdown for the fireworks display. It was enough to bail you out of the awkward situation, so you tried to take advantage of it.

“Well then, I should—”

“I missed you.” Heeseung blurted out just as you turned away to leave. He hissed at himself, shutting his eyes close as he ducked his head down. “So much.”

His voice was almost a whisper as he spoke, and slightly, you turned to face him, looking at him with mellow eyes from over your shoulder. He inhaled a deep, shaky, breath, and then he boldly reached for your wrist, but his grip was gentle and almost pleading for you to stay.

“I know that this is probably not the right time nor the right place to talk about it but—”

Without any more words being said, you pulled him in, cutting him off with a kiss. The tears of longing trickling down your cheeks contrasted the blasts of fireworks from the skies, but your passion and love for one another was still as intense as the crack of the colorful lights.

And so, you meet again.

Not as lovers, not as friends.

But then maybe, just maybe, when the night ends, you will be more than just two strangers with some memories.

[madsinfiction]

To Want - Chapter 3

I tried to post this earlier and posted it to the wrong account. And y’all are getting this a few days before ao3 because I’m impatient. 

Also just wanted to say if it wasn’t obvious, Akari and Rei have been aged up a bit from the original story. During the game story they’d be like 15, which makes them about 25 now. Volo was like in his early 20s when everything happened, so he’s a dilf now at the ripe age of… early 30s. 

Despite her physical and mental exhaustion, Akari found sleep difficult. Her mind was racing. Another force of Hisui. Between that and Volo’s sudden appearance, she wasn’t sure that she could bear much more surprise.

Eventually, sleep found her but her dreams brought her no more peace than consciousness did.

She dreamed of that day on Mount Coronet, at the temple of Sinnoh. It was the same nightmare she’d had for years, that she hadn’t had in a long time. It was almost boring in it’s familiarity. But it still made her heart race and had her waking up gasping for breath.

That became her routine for the night.

By the time the sun was rising on the horizon, Akari was exhausted, but ready to get out of her tent and to shake off the thoughts that had plagued her all night.

It appeared that she was the first one awake, and she took the opportunity to stretch for a moment, enjoying the first rays of the run. She took the tea kettle down to the spring and filled it, and she gathered a few leaves that grew there to freshen her mouth. She chewed them as she washed her face.

When her small morning routine was done, she returned to the camp. Still it looked like no one was awake, so she piled a few pieces of wood in the first pit and released her pokemon team. She called over her arcanine to help her light it.

“Thanks,” she said, patting his shoulder as she let him wander with his friends. She set the tea kettle over the fire and warmed her hands over the flames for a minute. It was cool that morning, a slight fog not having burned off quite yet.

“Good morning,” a voice greeted from behind her. She jumped, not having heard anyone moving. She turned slightly as Volo stepped up to the fire. He looked much more refreshed than she was sure she did. But his hair was messy, unbound and sticking up in all directions. His clothes were wrinkled and he rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing off the last remnants of sleep.

“I’m making tea,” she said. “There’s herbs down by the spring if you want to freshen up.” Volo smirked at her, and the unguarded, playful nature of it nearly knocked her off her feet.

“Are you saying I smell?” he teased.

“No, but you might want to fix your hair,” she replied, poking at the fire with a stick to avoid looking at his grin.

“Never could get it to do what I wanted,” he said.

“Hence the hat,” she guessed.

“Hence the hat,” he agreed, and then without another word jogged off towards the spring. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good morning,” Mistress Cogita greeted a moment after Volo vanished. Clearly, sneaking footsteps ran in their bloodline.

“Mistress,” Akari greeted. “Would you like tea?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Mistress Cogita said. Akari flipped over one of the cups their had rinsed the night before and pulled out her quickly dwindling tea supply. She poured a small amount of leaves into it, and filled it with water before handing it to the old woman.

“You look tired,” Cogita said as she held the cup and observed the young woman. “You should have something hearty for breakfast. Porridge would suit, I think.”

“I’m not hungry,” Akari said as she prepared her own tea. It was petty, she knew, but she was still angry with Cogita for keeping a fourth Force from her. But, she supposed, if she’d spoken to the woman, she might have found out sooner. It was complicated.

“You still need to eat, if you want me to tell you about the fourth Force,” Mistress Cogita said, her voice not leaving any room for argument.

“Very well,” Akari agreed. There was no use arguing with the older woman.

“Have you got berries?” Cogita asked.

“Some,” Akari answered.

“Good, we’ll put some in there as well. Ah, Volo, get us some grains for porridge, if you please.”

Akari turned slightly to watch Volo approach from the corner of her eye. His hair was damped, hanging limply around his face. His beard had grown beyond a shadow now, and she wondered if he’d shave it later. She hoped he would, it made him look too different, too unlike himself.

“Right,” Volo said, and turned away to get into Cogita’s stores. Akari started to prepare his cup of tea for his return as well.

When he came back, grains washed and placed in a small pot to cook down over the fire, Akari wordlessly handed him his cup. He accepted it without a word but gave her a small nod.

“Papa,” Mari’s small voice called from inside the tent a few minutes into their silent breakfast preparations.

“Ah,” Volo said softly, turning immediately to tend to his daughter. His voice carried in the quiet camp.

“Good morning, Kricketot,” he greeted her.

“Morn’ Papa,” she returned sleepily. “I’m hungry.”

“Let’s get you washed and dressed, and then we’ve got porridge on.” Akari turned her attention away from the tent and towards the pot she was stirring as father and daughter exited and went down towards the spring.

“Mistress, have you got a new cutting board?” Akari asked, only slightly teasing as she held a few berries in her hand. The grains would be ready soon and the berries could cook down with them for the last few minutes, infusing the mash with their sweetness.

“I have indeed, though not nearly so nice a color as that plate,” she said. She rifled in a cabinet and pulled out a pale piece of wood, handing it to Akari. Akari cut the fruits and brought them over to the pot, carefully pouring them in.

“Should be done by the time they get back,” Akari declared. Cogita nodded and sat. Akari continued to stir the food slowly, making sure none stuck to the bottom and burned.

“Good morning!” Mari’s voice boomed as they came back into camp. The little girl’s hair had been braided and tied with a leather string, and she was again back in her miniature Guild uniform.

“Ah, just in time,” Mistress Cogita greeted her great-granddaughter. She kissed her cheek warmly as the little girl sat next to her. Akari began scooping helpings of the porridge into bowls. Volo took the first two from her, and brought them to his grandmother and daughter.

“Be careful,” he warned Mari. “It’s very hot.” Akari prepared two more bowls, and set Volo’s in front of him, where he was crouched next to Mari, blowing on bites for her.

“Yours will get cold,” Cogita scolded lightly, nodding her head towards his bowl. He didn’t notice it being placed in front of him.

“Oh,” he said, and moved slightly so he could eat it. He picked up his spoon and took a bite, not caring to cool it first. “Oh, hot,” he said through a mouthful of food.

“Papa, you’re silly,” Mari giggled and then blew carefully on a spoonful of her own breakfast that she offered to him.

“That’s why I need you to look out for me,” Volo said before taking the offered bite. Akari couldn’t say exactly why, but the scene made her heart ache.

~~~

“Now that breakfast is done, I suppose you would like me to tell you more about what you will be facing today,” Cogita said as Volo and Mari returned from washing their breakfast dishes.

“Yes,” Akari said, trying not to sound as impatient as she felt.

“As I explained, there is a fourth force of Hisui that I have kept hidden from you,” Cogita said. “Come out,” she called, and from a vapor cloud, a huge pink pokemon appeared. It had four horns on it’s head, with two pieces of white hair that curled into what almost looked to be a heart. There looked to be a pink sandaconda wrapped around its neck, and like the others, it floated on what looked to be a cloud.

“Enamorus is heralded as the bringer of spring,” Cogita explained. “She’s not got a penchant for mischief like her brothers have, but I still imagine you’d like to study her for that book of yours.”

“I would,” Akari confirmed.

“Go on then, she usually flits about the Crimson Mirelands,” Cogita said, waving a hand away from camp. The pink pokemon disappeared and Akari steeled herself for a battle.

“Thank you, Mistress Cogita,” Akari said before backing away and checking her team on her belt.

“One more thing,” Cogita called as she pulled out her flute to summon Braviary to make the trip quicker. “She is playful, but don’t expect she will make this easy on you.”

“Of course,” Akari responded, playing the melody. In the distance, she heard Braviary’s screech. “If I’m not back by sunset, send someone to look for me.”

“You can’t be serious, going after that thing by yourself,” Volo said, aghast. He had gripped Akari’s arm to keep her from turning away.

“I’ve done far more dangerous things,” she said. “Fighting you, for one.” She jerked her arm out of his hold. It was a cruel thing to say, but she was tired and irritable.

“Akari you don’t know anything about this beast,” he continued on, undeterred by her comment.

“If you’re so concerned, come with me. Braviary can carry us both.”

“Fine,” Volo said. “Don’t leave without me.” He turned and went back to his grandmother. They had a short conversation, she nodded and he turned and walked back to Akari. Braviary’s wings beat overhead and she threw her arm over her eyes to shield them from the dust the pokemon kicked up.

“Hello,” she greeted him when he had landed. “Will you take us both?” She asked, motioning with her head towards Volo. The bird looked a little put out, but ruffled his feathers and indicated in what she assumed to be an affirmative.

“Thanks,” she said. “Volo, come here.” The man moved cautiously around the pokemon and came to a stop by Akari. There, on the undercarriage of the giant bird was a wooden contraption with straps what looked to be a handle. So that’s how she did it, then.

“Come here, I’ll strap you in.”

“What about you?” he asked, seeing there was only one set of straps.

“I don’t use them anyway. Makes dismounting quicker,” she shrugged. “Kneel, here.” She motioned to the dirt and he ducked his head, coming to kneel under the pokemon. Akari reached her hands around his middle and wrapped him in the straps, tightening them as needed. He tried not to blush like a school boy as her hands brushed against him.

“Right,” she said, moving in beside him. “Hands here,” she instructed. “Braviary, to Crimson Mirelands!” the pokemon shook his giant head and with a few beats of his wings they were a hundred feet above the ground. Akari’s grip was tight on the handle, but Volo looked as though he’d splinter the wood in his fists.

“Calm down,” she shouted at him over the wind. “It’s perfectly safe.” He was inclined to disagree, but he kept his mouth shut. They flew for several minutes, the landscape changing quickly below them.

“Braviary, there,” Akari called suddenly, having spotted Enamorus below them. The pokemon was spinning, throwing dust and mud everywhere. Braviary dove suddenly and Volo thought he might vomit. The ground was rising to meet them incredibly quickly.

Enamorus threw an attack at them and Braviary dodged it, jostling his passengers. Volo placed his hand over Akari’s on the handle, and she had the audacity to smirk at him. They were being attacked and she was smiling.

They couldn’t have been more than twenty feet above the ground when Akari released her hold on the handle and dropped into a roll in the dirt. Volo shouted her name and wiggled, trying to figure out how to free himself.

Braviary landed a short distance away and Volo tugged at his restraints, tyring to free himself. He was also trying to keep an eye on Akari, and he grunted in frustration. Then he managed to find the right clasp and proceeded to knock the wind out of himself as he fell to the ground. He rolled over and groaned, then managed to stand. He moved around Braviary, and watched in horror as Akari leaped out of the way of another of Enamorus’ attacks. Then she managed to throw her pokeball, releasing Samurott to distract the pokemon.

Volo gritted his teeth as he watched Akari wipe blood from her mouth.

“Samurott, use ceaseless edge!” She commanded. The pokemon obeyed her command in an instant and the attack made contact. “Hydropump!” She commanded, relentless. That was exactly how he’d remembered her, but it amazing to see how she’d grown. She battled almost recklessly against the last Force of Hisui.

When the pokemon looked tired, almost ready to collapse, Akari launched a pokeball at it. It bounced and captured the pokemon in its beam of light before dropping to the floor where it wiggled wildly. Then, a small show of fireworks burst forth, indicating the pokemon had been captured.

Volo breathed a sigh of relief and jogged across the bog towards her. She moved forward and picked up the pokeball, sticking it on her belt.

“Thanks, girl,” she said to Samurott, offering her a berry before recalling her into her pokeball.

“You’re bleeding,” Volo said, bringing a hand up and wiping away the drop of blood that had gathered on her lip.

“Must have bit it on the dismount,” she said, pulling away from him. His hand dropped to his side.

“That was stupid,” he chided.

“That’s what it takes to get the job done,” she shot back. “Come on, let’s get back.”

“I’ll walk,” Volo said as she pulled out her flute.

“It’s miles back to the Ancient Retreat,” Akari said.

“I’ve done enough flying for today,” Volo said. Akari sighed.

“We’ll take Wyrdeer, then,” she said. “I’m not letting you walk all the way back by yourself, it’ll be midnight before you get back.” She pulled out her flute and played the tune that would summon the great stag. Volo supposed that would be fine.

“Come on, the pokemon’ll start coming back soon and we don’t want to be caught out in the open before Wyrdeer gets here,” she said, moving out of the bog and into some tall grass. Volo followed behind her. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes and she rubbed her lip and winced. She kept her eyes on the horizon, waiting for their ride and he kept his eyes on her.

Had she always been so reckless? There was no other way to describe it, except perhaps suicidal. She had always been brave, but this was something new entirely. There was a feral quality to her now. Had he been the cause of that? Surely not. It was hubris to thing he’d had such an effect on her.

Wyrdeer’s hooves pounded across the Mirelands, shaving the ground beneath their feet as he approached. Akari stood and waved the pokemon over to them. He spotted Volo, and stomped his hoof, refusing to come closer.

“Don’t be like that,” Akari said, tilting her head and taking a step towards him. She patted his neck and spoke to him in a low voice. Volo couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he imagined it wasn’t flattering. After a moment, Wyrdeer finally seemed to relent and Akari called out for Volo to come.

He stepped towards the guardian carefully, aware that the pokemon was not a fan of him. The pokemon glared and Volo bowed his head in deference.

“I’ll mount first,” Akari said. “And you’ll get on behind me.” She turned then, and jumped, using her arms to leverage herself onto the back of the pokemon. Volo watched her settle, thinking he wasn’t nearly so dexterous. But she held out her arm, ready to help him. He laid his hands flat on Wyrdeer’s back and jumped, launching himself halfway over the pokemon.

Wyrdeer, sensing Volo’s weight and wanting to cause him what trouble he could, started to walk.

“Whoa!” Akari called. “Hang on, he’s not settled yet.” She glowered at the pokemon who stomped a hoof but stopped moving, then turned around to watch Volo scramble to get one of his legs over to straddle the beast.

“Ready?” She asked when he sat up and seemed to be settled.

“Fine, yes,” he said.

“Alright, slowly now,” Akari said to Wyrdeer, who jolted forward. Volo wasn’t ready for movement and he lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Akari.

“How did you get used to this?” He asked her. She laughed, her frame shaking against him. He’d groan if he didn’t know that she’d hear it.

“It just takes time. By the time we get back to the retreat you’ll be a professional.”

Volo wasn’t inclined to agree and his grip on her tightened.

~

This was a mistake, Akari thought as they rode slowly across the wildlands of Hisui. Volo was pressed tightly against her back and she could feel every inch of him. He’d filled out in the last ten years, gaining muscle and mass he hadn’t had before, nor that she would have expected. His clothes hid his form well.

They didn’t move much faster than a walk, afraid of exhausting the poor pokemon and of not being able to stay astride with the other in the way. It was slow going, but still faster than if they’d had to walk on their own feet. Neither said anything for almost the entire journey back to the Ancient Retreat.

Volo’s hold on her waist had loosened as he got used to the motion of Wyrdeer. The back of his hands brushed against her thighs and she sucked in a breath. This was ridiculous.

She didn’t trust him. He hadn’t been in her life for nearly ten years. He’d tried to kill her, to end the world. She shouldn’t want him to touch her. But she’d spent her time since then doing nothing but putting herself in danger and making stupid choices, so really, what was one more?

~~~

“Ah, so you’ve caught her,” Cogita said as they entered the ancient retreat once again. The sun had only just started to set. They were dirty, and hungry, and tired. “Here’s your first entry into your book,” Cogita continued. “She arrives at the end of each winter, hence her epithet. She’s helped me a great deal over the years, carrying me to and from Jubilife Village. I leave her in your care.”

She stood and entered her tent, emerging again a moment later. She handed Akari what looked to be a mirror.

“The reveal glass will show you the true forms of Enamorus and her brothers,” she said. “If they are still in your care?”

“I released the other three long ago,” Akari said. “Once I thought I had studied them sufficiently, and things had returned to normal.”

“Ah,” Cogita said. “I’m sure they return to you every so often?”

“They do,” Akari confirmed. Mostly to cause mischief, but it was nice to see old friends.

“You have much in common with them. You all tend to stir the pot of life.”

Akari’s face must have shown her confusion at that statement.

“Come now, it is a compliment,” the woman said. “If life were so straightforward, what meaning would their be in discovering anything new?”

“Are you hungry?” Mari asked. Volo had picked her up at some point and was cradling the little girl in his arms.

“Starving,” Volo answered, kissing her cheek. “Did you make us dinner?”

“We made more stew!” She said.

“You two get started, I want to wash quickly,” Akari said. they nodded at her and she watched them go to the fire where a large pot was waiting. Akari went off towards the spring. She really did want to wash, but she also wanted to look upon the true form of Enamorus.

[beyond-the-mirror]

The Blue Eyed King’s Gift

Oof! After an eternity incredibly long time I’m finally back to writing! This one will be a three part fic to accompany the Fairy Tale AU one I wrote with Dante x Fem!Reader.

Can you guess which tale I got inspiration for this fic? I won’t include it in the tags for now, but as the story progresses you will start to get the idea of which tale it is.

Warnings: Slight violence against children. Don’t worry, it’s nothing too serious.

Story under the cut.

IMPORTANT EDIT: I decided to make this a four-part fic rather than a three-part, mostly because I realized that the second part may be a little too long to be included in just one chapter.

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

............................. 

Part One

"(Y/N)!! Where the fuck is my breakfast?!!"

Your father yelled from his bed chambers in such a loud volume you swore the entire house trembled in fear at his wrath. Letting out a defeated sigh, you hurried up placing all the served plates and the warm teapot on the tray before heading upstairs.

Life hadn't been easy at all for you, especially these recent years. Ever since you had memory, your father has been a cruel man to both you and your poor mother, the only reason she had ended up marrying him was because of an arrangement both their families had agreed upon. He was the sole heir of his family's fortune, but needed to marry a woman in order to keep their status unblemished. Eventually your grandparents passed away and your parents received the inheritance, the only problem they didn't take into account was their son's unmeasurable greed and hedonism. Soon enough, your father had wasted pretty much all your fortune in alcohol, unsuccessful business deals and gambling, reducing all your family's possessions to merely a modest but still pretty chateau in the countryside and a few valuables.

You still cried at the memory of your mother wilting away on her bed due to a most terrible illness, the medicines she needed to recover were far too expensive, not that the price mattered much since your father wouldn’t even bother to pay for them anyways had they been any cheaper. Alcohol and gambling were far more important for the man than his dying wife.

"Finally! I swear you're doing this on purpose." Your father scowled from his bed as you placed the food tray on his bedside table. "Do you wish for your own father to starve to death? Talk about an ungrateful child. Get out of my sight already!"

You only resigned to silently nod before leaving, the harsh words from your father never failed to hurt you deeply, cutting down your heart so much you weren't able to mutter a single word to him.

A few tears threatened to escape, but you forced them down. A new day full of possibilities was right before you, so you wasted no time in collecting some of the many fruits and vegetables you grew by yourself in your own garden. This year had brought an exceptional harvest, your crops would certainly make a great profit at the town's market.

Unlike your father, the townspeople respected you and treated you with utmost kindness. Often would they offer their help knowing your situation, something that you would forever be grateful for. You promised to yourself that one day, shall your economy ever recover that is, you would repay them to the last penny for their unwavering support.

After another successful day at the town market you decided to return home, all your produce sold out and now replaced by a small satchel of silver coins, some of them spent in meat, spices and bread for cooking meals at home.

It was a simple life, but you were happy with what little you had. Now if only your father weren't so cruel and abusive...

.............................

"C'mon V! Let's explore over here!"

You were in the kitchen when a soft giddy voice in the distance caught your attention.

"Wait Nero! I don't think it's a good idea to stray further. What if Father becomes worried?" A second voice answered back.

Peering out the window, you noticed two little children playing not too far from your chateau's front yard. Both had pristine white hair, one of them seemed to carry a black kitten in his arms while a blue bird was perched on his shoulder. It was a rather endearing sight and an odd one too since they weren't familiar to you at all, not many people lived in the countryside area you resided in. Perhaps a family recently moved nearby without you noticing.

"Don't worry V, after all he sent Griffon and Shadow here to look after us. Look brother," One of them pointed at your residence with the small wooden sword in his hands. "I found a tiny castle!"

"Whoa, what a lovely house! Do you think a tiny princess lives there too?" The other brother pointed out. You couldn't help but giggle at their adorable antics as they approached your yard.

Reaching for some of the pastries you had bought earlier, you decided to grab a few to give to the brothers. You were about to reach for the back door when-

"GET OUT OF MY PROPERTY YOU BRATS!!"

As soon as you stepped out, you witnessed your father in a very drunken state harassing the poor children. "I SAID GET LOST NOW!!!"

You watched in absolute horror how he harshly grabbed one of the kids by his arm before throwing him to the ground, prompting his brother to wield his toy sword in an attempt to defend him, but ultimately failing as he was backhanded so roughly he too fell to the ground.

"NO! FATHER STOP!" You immediately sprinted to them, basically throwing yourself over harm's way as you shielded the children, pulling them away from your father's relentless attacks. Even the black cat and the blue bird that accompanied the kids had started attacking him, effectively helping you keeping the man at bay as you hugged the kids protectively.

"Damn animals, GET AWAY FROM ME!" The man struggled and flailed against the bird and the cat, missing every strike as he was too drunk and unfocused for their agility.

"Please father, you're completely inebriated and you will only hurt yourself and others. Just go back to the house, please?" You implored doing, your best to calm him down until he finally relented.

"Fine. Food better be ready soon though or you're sleeping outside tonight." His words came out slurred as he stumbled back inside.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you turned to the young twins in your arms, kneeling down before them to check for any wounds they may have gotten. The poor little ones were crying, a few bruises and cuts on their knees and faces.

"It's okay little ones, the bad man is already gone." Gently wiping their tears away, you comforted them until they calmed down. "Are you alright?"

"I-I think so... How about you V?"

"I... I’m fine. That man was so scary though."

A sigh of relief escaped you as you determined all the wounds were minor and merely superficial, nothing you couldn’t handle quickly.

"I'm truly sorry for what happened. Please come inside, let's get your wounds treated."

.............................

“Much better now, isn’t it?”

It didn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and disinfecting the boys’ wounds. Luckily yout homemade medicinal balm was already working wonders, their skin already healing considerably.

“Here! A gift for being the bravest boys in the world.” You handed each one the pastries from before. The brothers’ eyes began sparkling at the sweet treats before them, they didn’t hesitate for a second before grabbing them and taking a bite.

“Thank you so much lady (Y/N)! These are so delicious!” they happily ate their pastries, even sharing a bit for their company animals too.

“I’m glad you like them. And you don’t need to call me lady by the way, just (Y/N) is fine. May I know your names too?”

“I’m Nero!” The twin with short hair and blue eyes answered.

“My name is Vitale, or V if you prefer.” The twin with shoulder-length hair and green eyes replied. “Oh! And these are our friends Griffon and Shadow!” V hugged Shadow close to his chest while Griffon perched himself on Nero’s shoulder.

“A pleasure meeting you four! Does your family live nearby by the way?”

Nero nodded as he kept chewing on his pastry. “Our house is just north from here actually, but Papa doesn’t let us go out often.”

Oh?

“And why is that?”

“Well...” V started, looking a bit down. “Father is very protective of us, that’s why he only lets us play outside as long as we stay close to the house. But today we tried convincing him to let us go explore a little bit farther, it was difficult but he finally agreed as long as we promised we would be alright...”

“I really hope he doesn’t get mad at us after he finds out what happened.” Nero added worryingly. Their saddened eyes really plucked at your heartstrings.

You knelt down so you could look at them in the eyes. “Don’t worry my children. How about I write a note to your father explaining the situation? I’m not sure if this would help much, but at least he would know he has my word that no harm will come to you. And if that doesn’t work, I could always go and meet him personally to get to an agreement.”

“You would really do that for us?” They looked at you expectantly, and when you nodded your answer, their faces lit up in so much joy that they unexpectedly enveloped you in a hug. You chuckled before wrapping your arms around them, returning the hug.

.............................

Since the brothers wanted to continue playing, you allowed the children to stay for a few more hours while you finished cooking. You let them keep playing in your garden, a place where you knew your father wouldn’t spot them and risk another scene like the one before.

Politely excusing yourself to your little guests before leaving to deliver your father’s meal. Luckily this time he received his food without saying much of a word, a very welcomed improvement from this morning’s rant.

As you returned to your guests, you noticed they were looking at you in concern.

“(Y/N), is that man really... your father?

“Yes, he is. Why the question?”

The glanced at each other briefly before V continued “Why did he treat you like that? I thought fathers were supposed to love their daughters...”

To say the question took you a bit by surprise would have been a underestimation. You simply sat down at one of the wooden benches, not knowing exactly what to say.

The brothers sat down next to you, each one by your sides.

You fumbled with your words, tears already pricking your eyes before you managed to control them.

“I know he is not exactly a good man, he made many mistakes in the past that cost our family so much… But, despite everything, he is still my father. Maybe I’m wrong, but I want to think he still has a good heart deep inside. That’s why I can’t give up on him. I stay with him in hope that one day he would finally change for the better.”

You forced a smile so you wouldn’t make the children worry anymore about you, and yet they managed to see through your façade. Their little arms wrapped around your waist and hugged you, an attempt to give you some comfort for the pain you were going through daily.

A warmth unlike no other enveloped your entire self, maybe it was cuteness of the situation or the great empathy of this wonderful children felt for you, but it felt so soothing how peace seemed to overtake you at the moment.

It was strange, yet so familiar. Like a distant memory of better days gone by.

.............................

The sun was about to set in a few hours, so you decided it was time for the children to head back home before it became dark.

As you had promised the brothers, you wrote a note for their father apologizing for the incident that happened and gave it to Nero. You also packed a few slices of fruit in a pouch for them to snack on during their trip back home.

“Um (Y/N)... can we come to your house to play again some time?” V asked in a shy voice. Both he and Nero had so much fun playing and staying with you, for them it felt that they had genuinely met a new friend that day.

“Of course little ones. You can come here and play whenever you want, as long as your father agrees to.” You ruffled their pretty little heads, making the brothers giggle.

“We promise to visit as often as we can! Right V?”

The younger one nodded his head enthusiastically.

And so, Nero and V departed. It was odd, how the chateau felt a hundred times emptier without them despite just meeting them earlier.

They were both so sweet and innocent, you just hoped their father wouldn’t get angry after reading your short letter. It would be a shame if the boys got punished for something that wasn’t their fault.

Going back into the kitchen, you cleaned a bit before tending to the plants at your garden, wondering if your new friends would soon brighten your day again with their presence

.............................

At the throne of a majestic palace, an all-seeing orb conjured at his hand, a demon king watched over his two sons.

The day they were born, he vowed to The Creator above that he would always protect them, even if that meant giving up his own life, he would gladly pay the price if it guaranteed they would keep living theirs in peace.

His kingdom may not be a vast one, completely isolated from others, but the land was prosperous and peace reigned over everyone. The king knew his sons would grow safe and sound behind the powerful barrier that surrounded the kingdom, but he couldn’t help a small seed of doubt that gnawed at his chest.

He feared for the day curiosity would awake in the hearts of his twins. They would want to know everything about the outside world, their innocent minds not knowing how cruel and dangerous it could be. The king often taught them of the outside world through the many books and scripts in the royal library, but he was afraid that would not be enough for his children.

So when that morning they had insisted of going beyond the barrier, no matter how much he had prepared himself mentally for this moment, his heart still ached with worry.

But he wouldn’t take their freedom away. Doing so is one of the most horrifying acts one could bestow upon another.

So the king allowed them to venture beyond their home. He had to let them fly, not clip their beautiful wings.

However, as much as he wanted to trust his sons, his concerns were bigger. He tasked two servants to keep them company, knowing that their eyes would keep guard on them. Using his demonic power, he summoned an oracle that would let him watch over them from his throne.

He watched as they approached a small chateau outside the forest, they were happy and playing along the way which brought a smile to his usually stoic face.

That contentment was gone in an instant.

A drunk man stepped out of the house and attacked his sons, scaring them and making them cry.

The king immediately stood from his throne, his fists tightly clenched as his eyes filled with immeasurable wrath and ire. He was about to unsheath his own sword to open a portal and go there, ready to end the miserable man’s life, when another figure ran into the scene. A woman who shielded his sons from the attacking man.

And when he finally managed to look at her face, he froze, almost dropping the sword in his hand.

For she looked exactly like-

… No. It couldn’t be her.

And yet there was a tenderness in the way she treated them. The way her soft hands cleaned the boys’ tears and kindly healed their wounds. The way she offered them a few pastries with a sweet smile in her face and warm light in her eyes. It was rather endearing, how this woman gained his sons’ trust in just a few minutes.

Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the king sat down at the throne once again, attentive to what the oracle revealed to his eyes.

Maybe the outside world wasn’t so dangerous after all.

[no-whump-on-main]

Apartment 307 (Elora Series)-3

Finally picked out a title! I was told “Apartment 307) sounded very Stephen King horror-esque and honestly that’s the dream so I’m going for it!

The hurt starts here so be warned.

TWs: Blood, fear of death, cutting/stabbing, graphic descriptions of a knife wound, mentions of stalking, mentions of vomiting

Special thanks to @sableflynn for being my cheerleader and letting me bounce ideas while I wrote this and @quirkykayleetam and @greatandquestionablecontent for title help!

also long chapter today yay

     Elora didn’t stop screaming until she ran out of breath and couldn’t go on a single second longer. The man lingering in the doorway looked incredibly irritated by that point.

     “It’s real early to be hollering like that,” he said, in that same deep, gravelly voice. Elora looked horrified, but he didn’t seem to care.

    “It’s only four in the morning.”

     Tears were starting to form in the corners of Elora’s eyes. She blinked them out just to get them away, despite the shame she felt for letting them flow.

     Clyde caught a glimpse of the fallen droplets, and felt a strange, warm feeling emanating in his gut.

     Elora swallowed and spoke next, her voice wobbly despite her best efforts to stay calm. “I have-I have money. That’s what you want, right? I have money. Plenty. My mom got a big insurance policy when my Dad passed and she put it all in a savings account for me to go to college, but I decided not to go, you can have it, it’s probably a few hundred thous-”

     The man suddenly screamed at her, and she flinched, her shoulders rising up and hugging her ears.

     “SHUT UP!” He shouted, his face going slightly red. Elora immediately shut her mouth, her entire body shaking. She was afraid to die. She couldn’t die yet, she wasn’t ready. She-

     “I don’t want your money,” he seethed. He seemed to be calming down from his initial outburst, which Elora was grateful for.

      “I don’t want your money, I don’t give a shit about it. I’m not gonna kill you either, okay? Just fucking listen. How about some ground rules, yeah?”

     He stepped forward, shutting the bathroom door behind himself. Elora looked on in terror, not wanting him to get any closer to her. A pit quickly formed in her stomach; if he didn’t want money, what did he want? If it was just money, she could be home by the end of the day. But it wasn’t that easy. Of course it wasn’t. 

      Elora sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, terrified as the man walked up until he was right in front of her.

     “Stop,” he warned. She re-opened her eyes and watched him carefully as he sat down on the closed toilet lid.

     “Rule number one,” he started. “Don’t talk back to me. You can speak when you’re spoken to. And I want you to shut the fuck up and listen while I explain this.”

     Elora’s eyes widened. She wanted to scream, to protest, but she knew in her head that she had to be smart. Getting him angry wouldn’t help her. She stayed quiet, chewing on her lip.

     “Rule two. You stay where I put you and keep out of shit that doesn’t belong to you. I’ll give you a hint-nothing here belongs to you. So keep your hands to yourself.”

     He paused, taking a long breath. In the silence, Elora noted that he smelled heavily of cigarettes.

     “Rule three. You can call me sir, if you have to refer to me at all. I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

     The mere thought of that made Elora feel sick to her stomach.

     “And finally, rule four. You belong to me now, Elora, and the sooner you accept that, the easier this transition is gonna be on you.”

     Elora lost her handle on her emotions entirely. She knew she needed to be rational and level-headed to get out of this, but that last rule made her explode. She didn’t even know how he knew her name.

     “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY!” She shouted, bucking wildly against the chains keeping her locked in place in the bathtub. “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME! YOU’RE INSANE!”

     Her heart hammered rapidly in her chest. She was fighting the chains so hard she was already getting out of breath. “LET ME GO YOU CRAZY FUCK!”

     She was so distracted with useless attempts to free herself that she didn’t notice the man had stood up until his hand came down and slapped her roughly across the face. 

     “I told you to shut up,” he seethed. “You will respect me. Understand?”

     Her brow furrowed, filled with rage. “NO! YOU’RE CRAZY, YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO I AM! LET ME GO!”

     He silenced Elora with nothing but a look.

     “I do know you, actually. You just don’t know me.”

     Elora’s expression twisted and fell. 

     “You’re lying,” she said through her teeth.

     “Am I? Are you not Elora Lucille Larkin of 673 Seabrook Lane? Born February 18th, 1999? Daughter of Judith and Parker Larkin? Shame what happened to your dad, really. Cancer is a monster. And you were hardly 12, huh? Must have been rough. My condolences.”

     Elora’s jaw fell wide open. How did he-?

     “You like cats, too, don’t you? I have one here. Maybe she’ll help you adjust. And I know you like to work Tuesdays, because you haven’t had one off in months. God knows how long that pattern had been going on before I started watching, too.” He paused. “Are you really that stupid, Elora? I’d think you’d at least recognize my car by now. It’s been looming around practically everywhere you’ve gone since July.”

     Elora wanted to scream, but no noise would come out. Realization hit her like a train and she was completely mortified, frozen in shock. The sedan. Had he been following her? Was she stupid? If it had been following  that long, she would’ve recognized it, right? Since July. That was five months ago.

     But she didn’t recognize it. She could swear the first time she ever saw it was just before he kidnapped her.

     He stood. “But I’m just lying. You know, I must have made all that up.”

     Without another word, he turned and left the bathroom.

     “Don’t hold your breath. I’ll be back in a minute,” he called through the closed door.

     Elora had to force herself not to cry. She sucked in a breath, her chest so tight it was hard to breathe.

     The man was back within what felt like far less than a minute. She barely had time to process what she’d been told before he returned, holding a small potted aloe plant. 

     He walked over to her and she flinched back again, pressing her body against the farthest wall of the bathtub. He ignored her fearful cower, placing the plant down on the edge of the tub.

     “Grow it,” he commanded. His voice boomed through the small room.

     Elora’s brow furrowed with confusion, for a moment, before that emotion turned into realization, and then finally, strong-willed defiance.

     “What?” Her tone sounded genuinely puzzled, though it was just a ruse.

     “Grow the plant,” he repeated, his voice slightly angrier.

     Elora inhaled, having to clench her fists to keep her voice from wavering. 

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t just-”

     “Shut up,” he growled. “I know who you are and what you can do. Or have you forgotten?

     Shit.

     She abandoned the act, but didn’t give up on her adamant refusal.

     “No,” she told him. “You don’t tell me what to do, you sick fuck!”

     The man laughed again, breathy chuckles that made the hair on her arms stick up. “Oh, but I do. Don’t make me ask you again. Grow the goddamn aloe. I know you can.”

     This time, Elora didn’t reply. Instead, she spat at him. She was forced to sit in the bathtub while he stood, so she couldn’t get him in the face, but she did successfully aim for his hand. While not as bad as a face shot, it was still gross.

     He cursed and wiped his hand off on his pants, storming out of the bathroom. Elora almost smiled, pleased with herself.

     He was so angry that he didn’t bother closing the bathroom door. He turned on the lights in another room, and it was just bright enough for her to make out a kitchen and living room. And the front door, all the way back. If she could just get there-

     Soon. She would. It was a when, not an if. Soon.

     He ducked out of her sight for a good thirty seconds, leaving Elora to look around the small frame of view she had. She could tell it was an apartment, as everything was so compact, it had to be. It looked like a college kid’s apartment at that; it was sparsely decorated and filthy, with random trash on the floor and a thick coat of dust covering everything she could see.

     When he reappeared, the first thing she noticed was that he was holding a knife. It was huge-it looked like a butcher knife. Just the blade itself was easily the size of her forearm and looked sharpened. She swallowed. He didn’t say anything, just stormed towards her. He’s going to use it. He’s going to-

     “Okay, okay, I’ll grow the fucking p-”

     The man was deaf to her offer. It quickly devolved into a desperate plea.

     “Please, I’ll grow the fucking plant, stop-STOPSTOPSTOP YOU’RE CRAZY!” 

     She started to scream before he even hurt her, dread and anticipation and knowingness filling her as he ignored her begging.

     She couldn’t have anticipated the pain that came next. She knew it would hurt, but nothing in her life had ever been so painful. She felt every moment of her skin splitting apart as the blade slammed down against her right thigh, layers of her body just separating all at once. Her vision whitened for several seconds as her screams pierced even her own ears, the sharp sound agonizing as it reverberated in the room. Even Clyde winced at the noise, wondering if he had done too much too soon.

     No, she deserved it. I told her to follow instructions.

     Elora didn’t stop screaming for almost a full minute. Her chest heaved once she finished, gasping for air. The pain in her thigh was both sharp and throbbing, and constant. She realized she had wrenched her eyes shut in anticipation of receiving the wound, and part of her was scared to open them again and look at the damage.

     She opened just one eye at first, but the other quickly followed as she stared on in shock. The blade had easily slit her work khakis open, hardly phased by the barrier of the material.

     The cut looked at least  an inch wide, with little yellow bubbles lining the sides and making way for something that was smooth and reddish purple to be just barely visible in the bottom. Blood was gushing from it steadily, making it hard to tell too much about the true extent of it. She began to panic as the gravity of the situation hit her. Tears poured down her face as she turned her head and looked up at the man, fear constricting her chest. He was holding the now-bloodied knife by his side.

     “I- it-it’s bleeding,” she stammered out, stating the obvious. “It’s bleeding, I-please! Please, I-that’s a lot of b-blood, that’s bad, I need h-help! Please, I don’t want to-I don’t want to um-”

     Die. She doesn’t want to die. She’s scared.

     A choked sob tore from her throat as she found herself staring down at the wound again.

     “You’re fine,” the man said flatly.

     “NO! No, please, I need-”

     He sighed and left the bathroom like a petulant child.

     Elora sobbed in fear, looking at the puddle of blood that was already forming beneath her leg. 

     The man came back holding a small box and a hand towel. He tossed them both at Elora, careless of her inability to catch them. The corner of the box landed directly on top of the cut and she groaned, her teeth clenched as tears spilled from her eyes.

     He approached again, holding a small key. She looked on in horror as he undid the handcuffs, letting her right hand free but leaving her left still in one cuff, with just a small amount of give on the chain.

     Elora looked terrified. “What? I-”

     “I know you sew for fun,” he said casually, shrugging. “You make all sorts of stuffed animals, right, and donate ‘em? What a Mother Theresa you are. Anywho, this can’t be much different than patching up a tear in a teddy.”

     Her mouth dropped open in shock. She was acutely aware of the feeling of warmth steadily dripping down her thigh.

     He gave her an angry look.

     “Fix it,” he growled, and left.

     As soon as the door closed, Elora let out a loud sob, covering her mouth with her free hand. No. She can’t. Needles and threads for stitching people are different than ones for sewing, she can’t just do a stitch like she’s sewing fabric. She doesn’t know what to do.

     She interrupted her racing thoughts by looking down at the bloody gash. She had to. It was bleeding badly and she needed it to stop.

     Shakily, she took the towel he threw her and placed it over the wound, trying to soak up some blood so she could at least see what she was working with. The towel was originally tan, but a spot that was a deep shade of reddish brown formed in the middle of it within seconds of her laying over the wound.

     Inhaling deeply, she opened the sewing kit next. It was nothing fancy, just some needles, a seam ripper, some tiny scissors, and small spools of thread. She plucked the spool of white thread and the smallest needle in the box.

     Her hands were so shaky it was difficult to thread the needle. Come on. Come on, just-just-thread, come on-

     She finally got the thread through the eye of the needle. This is bad. It’s probably old, she’s going to get an infection, she could die.

     But there wasn’t another choice. She tied a tiny knot in the two loose ends of the thread and took a deep breath. She held the two sides of the wound together with her left hand, which hardly had enough chain to reach, and gripped the needle with her right.

     She desperately wanted for there to be a way out, but there wasn’t. She was too shaken and too terrified to try any sort of magical healing or painkiller. God knew she would fuck it up and make things worse for herself in the frazzled state she was in.

     Biting her tongue, she moved the blood-soaked rag back and stuck the needle through her skin on the far end of her cut.

     She wailed as soon as it punctured through, the original pain from the wound just amplifying with the sharp prick of the needle piercing through and the uncomfortable tugging of the thread pulling across her skin. She still needed to go back through the other side.

     She bit back her scream this time. He didn’t need to hear it. She saw that glint in his eye when he stabbed her; she knew he liked that she was hurt. She wouldn’t give him any more satisfaction.

     In, and out.

     It hurt so badly, she didn’t know if she could keep herself quiet.

     In, and out.

     She was hardly making any progress. She kept the stitches close together, desperate to keep it closed tightly so she wouldn’t have to do this again.

     In, and out.

     Tears spilled down her cheeks so quickly she could feel little pools forming on her chest.

     In, and out.

     She wondered if anyone even knew she was gone yet. Probably not; this was only the first night. Only the first night, and she got fucking stabbed. What else was going to happen to her?

     In, and out.

     Mom will figure out something is wrong by Sunday at the latest.

     In, and out.

     The agony started to get so bad that her vision spotted.

     Dima will help Mom find her. They’ll find her, right? The police will find her soon. All she needed to do right now was make sure she doesn’t bleed out and then someone will find her soon. They have to.

     In, and out.

     This stuff only ever happened in movies. Maybe it was just a nightmare. Maybe she was going to wake up nice and warm in bed in the morning with her thigh perfectly intact.

     In, and out.

     Maybe it was all a nightmare.

     In, and out.

     It hurt.

     In, and out.

     It hurt a lot.

    In, and out.

     She wanted to puke. The pain was so bad it was hard to breathe.

     She went on and on until the wound was completely stitched. It was hard to count, but she was pretty sure it was thirty seven. Thirty seven tiny stitches. She could have done half of that and still closed it up, but she was terrified of her handiwork not being tight enough or coming apart. Once she did a full row up, she did another back down, forcing herself to double up to keep it secure despite the pain. Relief flooded her as she finally got back to where she started and tied off the remaining thread with a knot.

     She wanted to try to pick the lock on the handcuffs with the sewing tools, but the thought was distant in her mind. Pain danced around and ignited her nerves constantly now that there was thread in her leg that wasn’t meant to be there. It looked bad already; her skin was red with irritation and every point where the needle had gone through her skin was throbbing. The pain was dizzying.

     She couldn’t hold on any longer. With a shudder, she fell back against the wall of the bathtub, her world going black. 

Tags: @exploringspaceinpyjamas

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #27: Benthos

This piece is set in roughly the year 1544 of the Sixth Astral Era - thirty-three years before Hydaelyn’s present-day, and thirteen years before Ala Mhigo’s fall.

It’s also set a couple weeks after Where Flood Waters Ran, and references events from that chapter.

"Things don't come out of the river. The only reason that armor did was because those scavengers decided to test their luck on Flood Day."

Neele had regretted speaking those words into being from the moment they'd said them. Sure enough, the site of the next Quorum was soon determined. Neele had had to double-check with Aster, to make sure their anxieties weren't simply getting the better of them - but no, Aster hadn't understood it either. By all accounts, they really were meant to meet at the bottom of the black water.

Their confusion only faded the moment they realized just how much the river's flow had subsided. They arrived at the canal landing to find that the current, usually more than enough to carry someone off in seconds, had receded to almost nothing. The stone steps leading into the waterway twelve fulms below lay damp but perfectly exposed, beckoning Neele to walk to a metal door set into the side of the smooth cliff face.

The Undercity always did like to have its jokes.

Neele arrived to discover the scene mostly as they had predicted it would be, as it had been at each Quorum they had attended. They had been to many other Quorums throughout their time as keeper of the Kalmia Sigil, and they had attended many even before their predecessor had passed on his sigil to them. Most of the lords - the ones who'd survived and maintained their guardianship throughout that time - tended to keep to similar spots in their various meeting places, most always with their seconds, if they had one, close by. If the Undercity's denizens were creatures of habit, then those who ruled over them were the most habitual of all.

Neele's arrival increased their number to eight, including Aster and Dagmar. There were fewer and fewer of them nowadays, and even fewer still who bothered to show up to the Quorum. Someone had placed a chair for Diadra at the center of the room, exactly where she'd liked it - a show of benevolence and grandiosity and provocation all at once - and of course it sat empty. The last Neele had heard, she was still in Ala Ghiri for her recovery, still pulling some strings for her Marigold territory but mostly camped out in the back of an arak bar. A quick skim of the room similarly revealed no sign of Elza meandering opposite the door as she so often did - “the better to keep an eye on everyone,” she’d said once.

"Evening, Palm," Neele said to Seax in greeting as they passed her. Anywhere else, they would have greeted her with her name, but speaking the given names of sigil-bearers at a Quorum had always seemed to invite misfortune, and there was more than enough of that going around. "Thanks, by the way, for taking care of the interlopers up by yours."

Seax inclined her head with her usual sly grin. "My pleasure."

Neele took up their own usual spot beside Wilma of the Eulalia Sigil - a woman with whom they rarely interacted outside of the Quorum, but who had proven herself more than once to be a cool head and stalwart presence. Better to stand beside her than Aster and Dagmar, and potentially find themself and their allies surrounded if blades were drawn. "I presume we aren't getting started without Lily," they said.

"He's not coming." The voice was from Haidar of the Stock Sigil, leaning against the furthest wall. Neele had not seen him there at first. In his hand was a scrap of parchment. "He left this," Haidar said. "It says he's preoccupied with other plans for this Quorum, and that he'll meet us at the next."

Neele took the paper and read it themself - a skill their predecessor had insisted they learn, and one that they were grateful for nearly every day. Sure enough, Blackram's message said no more and no less than that.

Melissa, whose given name Neele did not know, let out a snort. "What other plans?"

"Maybe snapping up our storehouses while we're all gathered here like rats in a leaky barrel," quipped Seax.

Dagmar shushed Seax, causing her haughty expression to curdle into one of disdain.

"What else is there for us here, then?" said Haidar. "I've no quarrel with most of you-" He notably did not look in the corner where Anemone lurked in silence. "-but I need assurances from Bl- Lily that he'll keep Marigold's surface routes clear. I've lost my best runners to knives in the dark, possibly worse."

"'Worse'?" Aster echoed.

"Aye, worse. Yunus' girl was there - said she saw revenants."

"Yunus' girl jumps at her own reflection," Melissa shot back.

Haidar turned on him, but Neele stepped forth before the Quorum could dissolve any further into arguments. "Dagmar and I will look into it," they said. Dagmar nodded her assent from nearer to the door. "Revenants does seem to be a likely case. Given the crusader that came out of the canal at this very junction two weeks past."

Most of the others shifted in discomfort at the mention of it - the idea that so many, most of them children, would have died were it not for Marco and his friend. Seax breathed out heavily, still pouting to herself.

"That's it, then?" said Wilma. "Let's disband, then, before the river comes back."

"I've one more item."

It was Anemone, speaking up at last as always; Neele still couldn't place whether it was out of a misplaced desire for theatrics or feeling stifled by the other voices in the room. She let her words hang in the air for a moment longer, then spoke directly to Neele. "Hélène, of the Fiels. A spider in her web."

"I don't do killings," Neele replied at once. Especially not on behalf of lords who can't keep their own in line.

But Anemone shook her head. "You misunderstand me. Hélène has promised half her treasury to anyone who gives her Marco's head."

The proclamation of bounties was nothing new for Quorums, and yet this one sapped all the air out of the room as surely as though the black water had submerged the room all at once. Aster let out an uncomfortable groan and began to massage the bridge of her nose.

"And his friend?" Melissa demanded.

"Which one?"

"You know the one."

Anemone paused, wetting her lips for a moment as she chose her words carefully. "There's no mention of him in the bounty. But I trust we all know what happens if anything befalls him." She pressed on, rather than leave them all lingering on that thought. "The reason I specified is because Hélène wants her dear little protégée back in the web; she's fallen in with Marco of late."

Wilma muttered something that undeniably contained the words "mother like that."

"She's not to be harmed, either," Anemone continued. "I even imagine there'd be a little bonus for anyone who delivers her back to the Profondeurs." She shrugged. "Something to chew on, at least."

Something to chew on, indeed: setting up the murder of a child to drive a boy into Blackram's arms and a girl into a lifetime of misery. Neele could only imagine what their predecessor might have said at the mere thought of it.

Without another word, they left the room and the empty canal.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Sixteen

Claire comes back to the past with Brianna and arrives at Helwater looking for Jamie—but must confront the Dunsanys first.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen

This installment is kind of inspired by and therefore dedicated to all the parents out there who have been put into the position of homeschooling their children due to current circumstances. ~ Mod Lenny

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

With Lady Isobel gone to stay with her sister, Brianna’s education fell back to Claire and Jamie. 

At first, Claire worked with Brianna during the day while Jamie was busy with the horses. She reviewed mathematics and gave Brianna some problems to solve before changing their attention to science. Even if Brianna hadn’t requested it, Claire would have insisted upon teaching her daughter as much 20th century science as she could. 

When Jamie returned for lunch and dinner, Brianna would tell him about what she had learned and then in the evenings, he would work with her on languages, reading and classical history. 

Brianna and Claire played a game when Jamie wasn’t around where she would toss out a historical event and Brianna had to guess whether or not it had happened yet. Once, Brianna asked about changing history and whether it was possible. Claire offered an abridged account of her own attempts at changing things with Jamie’s help.

“Perhaps it was only that we tried to change an event that was too large,” Claire admitted with a shrug. “There were too many forces pushing it to happen and we couldn’t stop enough of them. Perhaps, if we’d tried with something smaller and more insignificant, we would have succeeded and eventually its consequences would have snowballed into larger changes decades from now. Or perhaps it isn’t possible at all.”

“Maybe the things you could change of the ones that don’t make it into history books at all,” Brianna guessed. “Then you wouldn’t know if you were changing anything or not.”

“Maybe,” Claire agreed with a smile. 

But while Jamie would probably have happily skipped learning the history-yet-to-come that fueled their game, his curiosity got the better of him when it came to Brianna recounting what Claire was teaching her of science. 

“And why are ye growin’ mold on bread?” Jamie asked, turning from Brianna to Claire. But Brianna answered. 

“There’s a special kind that squirts out stuff that keeps you from getting sick,” she explained, causing Claire to laugh and Jamie to quirk an eyebrow.

“Lord John has agreed to help me acquire a microscope,” Claire told him. “And if it works well enough, I should be able to find — or at least try to find — the strain that secretes what will one day be called penicillin. It’s an antibiotic that can help prevent and cure infection.”

“The wee bit of mold will do all that?” he asked in wonderment. 

Claire smiled, carrying a plate with freshly cut (and mold free) bread to put on the table before him. She stayed standing behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders and leaning in close to add, “And it’s a Scot who’ll discover it. In about a hundred and fifty years’ time.” She kissed his cheek and gave him a pat on the back before moving to take her own seat and dig into the meal.

“And you plan to find it and… use it?”

“Of course. I’ll need to fashion some kind of hypodermic needle eventually, but an oral administration is better than nothing. The acid in the stomach breaks it down a bit so its effects aren’t as fast or strong,” she rambled. 

Jamie sat nodding, watching her as he chewed. 

“When did you say Lord John would send you the microscope?” Brianna asked around a full mouth. 

Claire frowned at her and swallowed her own mouthful before replying, “Within the month. I’m hoping it will be closer to a fortnight but either way, it doesn’t hurt to start a few cultures so I have something to try right away. As soon as it arrives, we’ll go around collecting samples we can use to calibrate the microscope. Trough water, goat’s milk… we’ll see if we can find some algae on the rocks in the stream and maybe some plant spores or flower pollen…”

“I can bring ye some of the muck from the stalls if that would be of interest to ye,” Jamie offered. 

Claire beamed while Brianna grimaced at the thought. Jamie laughed, joined by Claire when she saw Brianna’s disgusted expression (only some of which was about Jamie’s offer and the rest by her mother’s obvious intention to take him up on it). 

“I cannae wait to see what ye find wi’ the microscope,” he said with excitement. 

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

The microscope arrived from Lord John about three weeks later, when Brianna’s frustration at its delay had begun to negatively affect her attitude (and Jamie and Claire’s by extension). 

It arrived while Jamie was busy at the stables. When he returned to their small cottage for his midday meal, he instead found Claire bent over the table setting it up and Brianna hovering like a butterfly, too excited to land anywhere for long. 

“Shall I fetch something from Cook in the kitchen then?” he asked, announcing his entrance. 

“Would you?” Claire asked gratefully, adjusting a mirror and inching a candle (burned to a low nub) closer. “I’ve got it nearly there… I don’t want to move it to lay anything out yet.”

“Bree,” Jamie jerked his head back toward the door. “Come help me carry it.” 

“You don’t need help carrying anything from the kitchen,” she whined. “I wanna stay and look through the microscope when Mama’s got it ready.”

“She’s like to have it ready by the time we return and we can find something from Cook tha’s worth a keek through the microscope,” he assured her, heading into the room and herding her out of the cottage. 

He glanced to Claire as he reached to close the door behind them. She was watching him leave mouthing, “thank you,” and smiling. It warmed him through, easing the tired tension in his arms and back from his morning’s work. 

Brianna chattered away as they walked to and from the kitchens, fetching some bread, cheese, and cold meat left from Lord and Lady Dunsany’s meal. 

“Insist on the full spread though Lady Isobel’s away,” Cook muttered as she picked over the parcel she packed for them, retrieving stray bones she needed for making stock. 

Brianna carried the basket while Jamie carried some bottles with ale.

“I wonder if Mama will let us look at that under the microscope,” she mused, nodding to the bottles.

“I’d dinna ken as I want to see that just yet. If I’ve just had it to drink and the sight turns my stomach, I may see it in a still less flattering way… or if it would turn my stomach and I havena drunk it yet, then I’ll just go the day thirsty and I cannae do that wi’ an afternoon yet ahead of me,” he told her.

“Ugh, no. Nothing food or drink then for a while,” Brianna grimaced. 

Jamie chuckled, amazed at just how much the expression matched a common one of Claire’s. It was a constant wonder to watch and listen to Brianna. She was at once the embodiment of Claire, the mirror of himself, and yet something – or rather, someone – entirely her own. 

Claire didn’t look like she’d moved at all since they’d stepped out, but when she raised her head at their entrance her face was alight with triumph. 

“Care to take a look?” she asked Brianna. 

Jamie successfully grabbed the basket from her hands before Brianna could drop it or toss it aside in her haste. 

Claire gave him an apologetic look as she showed Brianna what to do and reminded her not to jar the table or the device. 

“Whoa… what is that?” Brianna gasped. 

“I had a vial on me the last time I went looking for mushrooms in the woods,” Claire explained. “There’s that shallow spot near the stream that’s basically a small stagnant pond. Since I had the vial and there was water in it, I thought I might as well take a sample.”

“Holy cow, they’re moving!”

Instincts startled into action by Brianna’s exclamation, Jamie darted to her side but Claire was grinning. 

“I know! I was worried anything alive in the sample would die before the microscope arrived. You’re looking at a paramecium. They live in the water and feed on bacteria, algae, that sort of thing.”

“I think it’s eating another one,” Brianna said with horror and panic in her voice. She looked to Jamie while Claire swept in to peek.

“It’s not eating the other one. It’s dividing. That’s how they reproduce,” she explained. 

Brianna looked again. “Da… you have to see this.” 

She backed away, offering him her spot. He looked to Claire with uncertainty, but she nodded and walked him through how he should adjust the scope to focus as he needed. She knew he found the right setting when she heard his quiet gasp. 

“And that wee thing lives in the water?” he asked carefully. 

“Not all water. But some microorganisms like this can make people ill. That’s why I always boil water for drinking and sterilize my medical instruments in boiling water. It kills the kinds of microbes that cause infection.” 

“So it’s one of yer germs, then… this paramecium…” 

“Not exactly. But it does eat some kinds of germs. I’m afraid this microscope isn’t strong enough to see the bacteria it feeds on. But it should do just fine for examining the molds to find the right one for penicillin,” she declared. 

“I’ll never again dip my hand to drink from a loch wi’out seein’ that wee thing in my mind’s eye,” Jamie said, sounding haunted and perhaps a bit queasy. 

“What’d you two fetch for lunch?” Claire asked, hungry now that success was achieved.

[aquariuscurly94]

Being a Roommate with a Half-Demon

Chapter One

Summary: All she wanted was a new beginning at her dream city of Tokyo. She didn't think that she'll meet a hot headed hanyo (apparently those exist) & be his roommate. She also didn't think that both of their pasts would collide and haunt them both in ways they even they couldn't imagine. SLOWBURN! AU!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Inuyasha just the plot Warning: this story will contain mentions of domestic violence throughout the story please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it.

Roommate Wanted

Single male looking for a roommate, rent is $800 a month. Must be okay with me working nights and returning early mornings. Must know how to clean and cook for yourself. Also, you must be okay with me being a half-breed.

Kagome Higurashi leaned back on the chair that she was sitting on, her finger pressing lightly on the mouse pad on her laptop, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully as she reread the Craigslist ad that she had stumbled upon earlier.

The ad was quite interesting to her because she’s been looking for a place of her own for quite sometime now ever since she had moved to her dream city of Tokyo. However, it would’ve been harder on her if she lived by herself so she decided to scroll through this website Craigslist in hopes that someone would post an ad about wanting a roommate. Sure enough, she found an ad within minutes of her search.

“What did he mean by half-breed?” She wondered out loud, wondering why he would put that on his ad. She doesn’t understand what could it mean. She never heard of that term before.

She shrugged her shoulder as she continued to scroll down the roommate ad, trying to find some sort of phone number but instead all she could find was an email that was attached to the bottom of the ad.

Kagome sighed heavily underneath her breath, turning around to look over her shoulder at her medium size hotel room, thinking long and hard about what she should do. She stared at her half unmade bed, her belongings that she managed to get were laying on the foot of the bed. It has only been a couple of months since she started staying at this hotel. Meaning it’s been a couple of months since she had escaped.

Escaped.

The young raven haired woman still feels like she was on edge, wondering each and everyday if he’ll somehow come back and find, forcing her to come back to him, or worse.

Her whole body started to shiver violently at the thought, trying to remind herself over and over that he’s in jail and won’t be able to see the light of day again after what he had put her through. All that mattered now is that she’s safe, she’s alive, she’s in the city of her dreams and was finally starting over for the better.

Kagome closed her mahogany eyes as she took several long deep breath through her nose to calm herself down at the thought of starting over. “Your safe,” she whispered quietly, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “He’s not here. He’s in jail. You. Are. Safe Kagome.”

She sighed in relief when her shivers had finally settled down and glanced at the ad once more, debating if she should respond to it and send this Inuyasha guy a email.

She knew from the email that was attached to the ad the person’s name was Inuyasha. However, there was no mention of a last name.

Kagome noticed a date that Inuyasha had wanted the person to move in by, smiling when she saw that it’s near the time range for when she starts her new job as a full time medical records specialist at Tokyo University Hospital. She laughed at the fate and about the opportunity that’s sitting in front of her like Kami knew that they were looking out for her.

Her small fingers drummed lightly on the mouse pad, trying to do the math inside her head. The email specifically stated that the person that’s interested should have the first month’s rent. Kagome should have plenty of money that she had stashed away in her savings account. Just enough for the first month’s rent and she’ll be starting her new job soon after!

Again, she strongly believes that Kami’s looking after her.

“Alright,” Kagome muttered, clicking the reply button at the top of the email before she changes her mind. “Let’s do it!” She smiled warmly at the screen, pursing her lip while she typed out a response, hoping that he would respond soon and quick after she had pressed the send button above the screen.

It was the sound of a loud bleeping noise that was coming from a phone that sat laying face down on a small black night stand that awoke a sleeping silver haired hanyo from his sleep.

One of his ears that sit on top of his head flickered at the sound, making one of his golden eyes open up slightly when the annoying sound made that bleeping noise again, telling him that there’s a email that needs to be open.

“Could’ve swore I put that damn thing on fucking silent.” He muttered groggily, reaching over with a clawed hand to grab his phone, wondering who had sent him a email.

He moaned when he had checked the time on the screen and muttered out a few curses underneath his breath when he saw that the time had read 5:30PM, not even close enough for him to be up which would be around eight before his club that open opens at 9:00PM.

He used an elbow to prop himself up on his bed, lifting an eyebrow with interest when the email had caught his eye.

It seems like it was a response to his roommate ad that he had posted from about a week ago from that website Craigslist, a website that his long time friend Miroku had talked to him about one day. You could literally post any type of ad you want. No questions asked.

“Huh, someone’s actually interested?”

He used a clawed finger to click on the email so he could fully read the message, cocking his head to the side which made his long mane of silver hair cascade down over his shoulder.

Hi Inuyasha!

My name is Kagome, and I’m sending out this email in regards to your roommate ad that I saw on Craigslist! I am highly interested in being your roommate! And I can definitely give you the first month’s rent right away! Please respond as soon as you can!!

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at the email, slightly taken aback that someone’s actually interested in being his roommate after he had read it several times to make sure that he was reading it correctly.

He growled lowly, thinking that it has to be some sort of trick. There’s no way that someone would be willing to live with someone that was a disgusting half breed like him. He made it specifically clear that whoever responds to the ad had to be okay with him being a hanyo and couldn’t believe that someone actually responded.

Again, it had to be a trick.

Inuyasha hummed when he looked back at the email, wondering if this *Kagome* person was a human woman or a demon, frowning when he couldn’t find any description of her in the message. Should he even respond to her?

Inuyasha placed his phone back down on the night stand and stood up from his bed, yawning loudly as he stretched out his arms above his head, making his muscles pop from the tension from sleep. He grabbed a random shirt that was laying randomly on the floor to slip over his head and made his way over towards the kitchen.

“Might as well make some dinner.” He said quietly, turning on the stove and went underneath a cabinet to grab a small pot so that way he could make a quick bowl of ramen noodles.

After his ramen was done cooking, he made his way back to his room and sat down on his bed, using a pair of chopsticks to scoop up his delicious noodles that he loves so much into his mouth.

It took him about eight bites before he finally place the empty bowl on his nightstand, burping after the last noodle went down his throat, sighing when he side glanced at his phone that’s next to the bowl.

It has been a full week since he had made that ad about wanting to find a roommate. Truth to be told, he honestly didn’t think that someone would actually respond to it or even be interested. He was actually going to delete it once he had woken up. However, it could really help him out, especially since the recent events that had happened this past month.

Inuyasha snarled angrily when he thought back of a heated argument that had transpired between him and his elder half brother Sesshomaru. He still couldn’t believe that he had cut him off completely! All because he didn’t want to join him and the stupid corporate lifestyle by working at their dad’s company as Sesshomaru’s right hand man.

Inuyasha had never saw himself working at Taisho’s Inc. He had always dream of having something of his own without his last name being attached to it. Thank Kami he had managed to open up a club using what he had left in savings, thanking Kami again that it’s actually doing quite well despite being a new night scene.

Even so, a roommate could really help him keep his lights on and indoors.

“Damn it,” he huffed out, reaching over to grab his phone and clicked on the email to send out a quick response before turning off his phone completely so he could shower and get dress for the evening, getting mentally prepared for work in hopes for another packed night.

“Thank Kami its fucking Friday.” He said out loud while he was washing off the suds of soap from his body. “Hopefully she’ll actually show up.”

Kagome,

If you are truly interested in being my roommate, I need to meet you before we can make final arrangements. Meet me at Club Tessaiga at 11:00PM. Don’t be late.

~Inuyasha

A/N: Here is chapter one of my story!! I’m mainly going to post it on my A03 and FF account! My user name on both of those are CurlyBookWriter94 :) please let me know you guys think of it :)

[faefictions]

Lonely People | Ch 6

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: some angst 

Friday night parties had become a sacred ritual in the apartment. It went without saying that all 3 of them would be out and drunk by 8 pm. Getting out of a Friday night party was about as hard as getting out of work. If you didn’t have a doctors note, you were out of luck. 

Fridays before breaks were different. Usually, all three of them were packed up and on a flight out of town before dinner, but of course, this Friday had one difference. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to tag along? I’m all for you staying, but I get it if you changed your mind,” Jace called as he set his stuff by the front door. Sierra was still frantically packing in her room, so she had no say in the conversation. 

“I’m sure, Butthead. Tell your mom I said hi,” y/n called from the couch, turning to give him a teasing smile. 

“Ok, well I’m ready to go whenever. Are we waiting for Sierra?”

“Her and Tom. It might be a while,” y/n rolled her eyes. 

On any other holiday, the three would get an Uber to the airport, but since y/n was staying home for the break she promised she would drive them all to the airport. 

“If you need anything while we’re gone, promise you’ll call?”

“I’m a big girl Jace, you don’t have to worry about leaving me home alone,” she teased, but when his stern expression didn’t let up, she sighed and nodded her head. 

She didn’t anticipate needing them much over the week. It was just one week of being alone. And sure, she hated being in the apartment on her own, but that wasn’t something they needed to know. She just knew that if she did need anything, calling someone who was halfway across the country wouldn’t be of much help. 

“And if it is an emergency, remember Harrison is still in town. You have his number right?”

“I’ll be fine Jace, stop worrying,” she chuckled at him, just as Sierra came tripping through her doorway with two suitcases in tow. 

“You’re going to be gone for one week, what could you possibly need that would fill two suitcases,” Jace asked. 

“Shut up, I am not the ridiculous one here,” she growled, pointing to his half empty duffle bag.

The two continued to playfully bicker, and y/n sat and soaked in the last few moments she would have with her roommates before silence would fill their shared space for the week. 

Tom showed up less than 10 minutes later, and they all dragged their luggage down the steps and out to the car. It was a game of tetris getting the bags to fit in the small trunk, but they managed to get it shut and began their trip to the airport. 

Y/n helped the 3 unload and walked them through the doors, but before they reached security, Sierra had to give her the same talk that Jace had back at the apartment. 

“Si, I swear to god, you two better get out of here before I throat punch you.”

“Promise you’ll call first!”

“Fine, if anything goes wrong, which it won’t, I will call you. Although there will be nothing you can do because you will be 5 states away. Now, go.”

Sierra wrapped her up in one last hug before taking Tom’s hand and leading him to the security line. 

Jace lingered for one more moment, asking y/n one more time if she was sure she didn’t want to go home with him. 

A small part of her wanted to give in. It wanted to say fuck it and just get on the flight without any luggage. But she knew that being there was never her idea of a good time, and going anywhere without at least a change of clothes was a bad idea. So she shook her head and gave him one last reassuring hug before shooing him in the same direction as Sierra. He looked over his shoulder only one time before joining the other two in line, giving her a small, sad wave. 

Y/n wasn’t in a rush to go back to the apartment. Thinking back, she hadn’t spent a single night alone since moving in. Every once in a while, one of the roommates would have a one night stand, but the other one was always just a room away. It was a little too nerve-wracking for her to rush back to, so instead, she decided to go get something to eat. 

Her bank account didn’t have much in it. The small amount of freelance work she did had been slowing down even more, something she didn’t know was possible, and it was making it hard to survive. There was no way she was about to tell Jace and Sierra about that though. She knew that they would both be willing to empty their own bank accounts if it meant helping her, and while that meant the world to her, she could never let that happen. 

She walked onto one of the few places to eat on campus, a large mural of their mascot greeting her on the adjacent wall as she walked in. She hated that painting. The idiotic smile on the mascots face was enough to make anyone uncomfortable. 

She walked quickly past it so it didn’t occupy her thoughts for too long, and made her way over to the register. She wanted to eat there, but the amount of people in there made her nervous. Being anywhere alone was already nerve-wracking for her, but somewhere that full didn’t give her a chance. There was no delaying the inevitable anymore. She had to go back to the apartment. 

As she was turning to leave, food in hand, she almost ran into the person behind her in line. Her grip on her food tightened as she apologized. 

“It’s alright,” they spoke back, and y/n knew who it was before she could even glance up. Harrison’s accent would give him away in any situation. 

“Oh, hey,” she greeted awkwardly. She hadn’t seen him since she had taken their first photos for the project, and the atmosphere was just as awkward as before.

“Hey… I see you got out of going home with anyone for the holiday.”

“Oh, yeah,” she stated simply. 

“Eating alone tonight?” 

“Yeah, I’m just going back to my apartment.”

“Well, would you maybe mind some company?”

Her eyes shot up in surprise, trying to decipher if he was joking.

“I don’t mean to intrude, feel free to say no. I just hate being at my place alone. It feels eerie without Tom yelling across the place.”

“Uh, yeah, of course you can come over. I was actually kind of feeling the same way about my place,” she smiled shyly. Avoiding Harrison could wait until she had someone else to keep her company. 

She waited for Harrison to get his order and drove them back to her apartment. She was thankful that she had driven there. The music in the car filled what would have been the awkward silence. 

The silence followed them into the apartment, and y/n began to think that him being there was almost worst than being alone. Not only was it quiet, there was another sense of unease stacked on top of it and it was tiring. 

Harrison was running around his mind, trying to think of something to fill the silence, but he was preoccupied with the question “Why?”. He still had no idea what he had done to make her turn so suddenly. They clicked the moment they met, there was never a weird silence between them, it was all filled with some kind of sarcastic quip. He knew that it only happened after he had the conversation with Jace, but he was in denial. There was no way that Jace would say something to her, right?

“You ever watched I Love You, Man?” he finally said between bites. 

“Yeah, it’s probably one of my favorite movies,” she replied, covering her mouth as she chewed. 

“Wanna watch it? It’s on Netflix.”

“Sure,” y/n replied and grabbed the remote. It took a minute to find the movie, but once she hit play, everything felt better between them. The silence was filled with laughter, and it all felt so comfortable. 

The two would each sneak looks at the other during the slower scenes, when they weren’t busy laughing. Harrison loved the way she gave her full attention to the screen, mouth slightly agape. Her eyes weren’t quite as wide as a child, but her demeanor was like one. 

Y/n would sneak her glances as quickly as she could. There was no way in hell she was about to let herself get caught. But each millisecond of a glance made her feel something she told herself she wouldn’t, so halfway through the movie, she stopped looking. She stopped laughing as much, and Harrison saw it in her expression. Something was wrong, and he hated it. 

When the credits started to roll, Harrison was the one to grab the remote and stop it. 

“You wanna go out and do something? I’m sure you know of multiple parties happening tonight.”

After a moment of quiet deliberation, she nodded her head with a smile. She could use the distraction. 

An hour later, y/n and Harrison found themselves in the middle of a sweaty crowd, drinks in hand. They were dancing along to the shitty music, a song neither of them would listen to in their spare time, but the alcohol coursing through their veins was giving them a strong buzz. Strong enough to make them enjoy a song they would otherwise be making fun of. 

When the song ended, y/n stumbled as someone pushed past her. Harrison’s caught her arm as she giggled at her misstep. 

“Wanna play beer pong?” Harrison asked loudly, overestimating the ambient sound in the room. 

She happily nodded her head, and let him lead her to the empty table. Two people had just ended their game, just in time for them to arrive. 

Y/n grabbed the ball and began to arrange the cups in to triangles on both sides of the table as Harrison refilled both of their drinks. When he approached the table, y/n traded the ball for her drink. 

“I’ll let you go first,” she winked. 

“That’s not how this works.”

“You should take what I give you, kiddo. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Oh, talking trash are we? Fine, I’ll take it, but not because I need it. I’ll just win faster.”

He crossed to the other side of the table and took a deep breath to focus. He took his shot, and sure enough, it landed in the back right corner cup. 

“Told you,” he smirked again, only making his opponent narrow her eyes.

“That was a lucky shot,” she bit back.

“We’ll see about that.”

15 minutes later, there were only two cups left. Harrison had missed only one shot, but y/n had missed none. If she made this, she won the game. She was intensely staring at the cup, the ball and her hand in the air. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone there, but the alcohol was starting to mess with her senses. She took a deep breath and shot, watching as the ball went straight for the cup, but instead of falling straight in, it hit the rim and bounced off onto the table. She dramatically grabbed her head before slamming her palms down on the table, loudly expressing her disappointment. 

Harrison’s smirk only grew as she watching in horror, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t make it. He had had a lot less to drink though, so his ball glided into her cup effortlessly, and she nearly fell to her knees in frustration as he ran around the table to rub it in her face. 

“I hate you,” she said, trying to hide her amusement at his excited nature. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he chuckled, following her as she went to get another drink. One more before she called it a night. 

But one turned into three, and y/n found herself walking back to her apartment with Harrison leading the way. She had insisted that she was fine to walk alone, and after some fighting over it, he convinced her that he just wanted to stay on her couch so he didn’t have to sleep at his place alone.

He wasn’t completely lying. He was starting to feel a little homesick, and with Tom gone and alcohol coursing through his system, it was being amplified. Having company muffled it, even if the closest person was a couple rooms away. Sure he could have lived without her that night, but it was just an added bonus to making sure she got home safe. 

The walk home was almost silent, but halfway there, y/n got bored of the silence and started to poorly hum a song. Harrison tried to make out what she was trying to hum, but it had sounded nothing like the original. She realized this and began to giggle every few seconds, making it even more unrecognizable. 

Y/n let them into the apartment, struggling with her keys for a good thirty seconds. Harrison tried to offer help, but she refused it. When she finally got the door open, she kicked her shoes off and hung her keys. She knew that drinking a glass of water would have been a good idea, but her bedroom was closer than the kitchen, so she poorly decided against it. 

“Are you sure you wanna stay on the couch, we have 3 bedrooms here, it’s not like they’ll know,” she offered, stumbling a bit as she tried to take her coat off. 

“The couch is fine.”

“You could sleep on my bed if you’re worried about being polite. I could sleep on the couch. I would fit better anyway.”

“Goodnight, y/n,” he laughed, trying to push her towards her room. 

“I’m being serious, we could switch,” she insisted, but he just kept pushing. 

When she was just about comfortable in bed, she heard her door creak a little, being pushed open just a little further. She peeked over the covers to see Harrison quickly placing a glass of water on her nightstand before making his way back out to the couch without a word. 

The gesture was something she had done for Jace and Sierra countless times, but she couldn’t recall anyone ever returning the favor. That familiar feeling crept back into her chest, making her feel a little nauseous, but she drifted off to sleep before she could tell herself to stop feeling it.  

 *****

When y/n woke up the next morning, Harrison had left already. She expected to find him fast asleep on the couch, seeing as she was up before 8, but he hadn’t left a trace of his stay. The blanket that he had used was neatly folded over the back of the couch, just as it always was, and the glass he had used was washed and placed back in the cupboard. 

Y/n would be lying if she didn’t say she was at least a little disappointed. She hadn’t had the greatest night of sleep, and she would have loved the company, even if he was passed out on the couch. So instead of human interaction, she settled for wrapping herself up in the blanket he had used, only her face poking out, and put on a feel good movie. The single movie turned into a marathon, and soon enough it was time for dinner, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten all day. So after the sixth movie of the day she decided to make herself something to eat. There wasn’t much left in their fridge or pantry, so she had to settle for some old cereal.

As the night got darker, she had to fight the urge to text Harrison. As much as she would hate to admit it, his company the night before was nice. It relieved the anxiety of being alone in the apartment, and it was nice having someone care for her while she was tipsy, even if it was just getting her a glass of water. But she didn’t want to get used to him. She didn’t want to get attached. After her roommates came back, she would have to go back to being cold. 

Around 8, she heard her phone go off. It was a text from Harrison. 

“You eaten yet?” was all it read, but she smiled at the screen nonetheless. 

“Does cereal count as a dinner??”

“Absolutely not”

“Then no”

He opened the message almost immediately, but he left her on read. It would have stung, if her doorbell hadn’t rung 30 seconds later. Sure enough, when she looked through the peephole, Harrison was waiting on the other side. 

“So you were here anyway, why send a text?” she asked as she opened the door. 

“Nice to see you too.”

“What would you have done if I had said I had eaten?”

“You didn’t, so I don’t have to worry about it, do I?”

“You stress me out.”

“Get a jacket, it’s cold out there,” he replied, starting to make his way back down the hall. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she laughed, watching as he turned back towards her. 

“And why not?”

“Well, for one, I don’t have shoes on.”

“Good point. So put some on.”

“I also don’t exactly have the money to go out to eat twice in a week. Some of us are poor, asshole.”

“I’m paying, go get your shoes.”

“And why would you do that?”

“That’s what friends do.”

“Oh, so we’re friends now?”

“I slept on your couch last night, we’re friends. Now get your shoes, or I’ll carry you out there.”

“Aggressive,” she laughed at his cheeky smile, “Fine, you’re just lucky I’m goddamn hungry.”

She disappeared into her apartment for a few moments, quickly slipping on some tennis shoes and grabbing her jacket and keys before catching up with him in the hallway. 

“Ok, you gotta be honest with me, I’m curious,” she broke the comfortable silence as they hit the sidewalk outside. 

“Ok?”

“Is Sierra making you check up on me while she’s gone?”

“What? No, why would she do that?” he chuckled, giving her confidence that he was telling the truth. 

“She doesn’t think I can survive a week alone,” y/n blushed, realizing that fact was a bit embarrassing. 

To be fair, Sierra was right. Y/n didn’t like to leave the apartment alone unless it was completely necessary, and since classes were out for the week, she probably would have spent the whole week inside. Sierra knew her better than y/n would have liked to admit. 

Harrison kept to his promise and paid for her dinner. They took their food back to her apartment, and just like the night before, they put on a movie and ate on her couch. Each night that they spent together felt more comfortable than the last. They giggled through 2 movies that night, and when they were over, y/n invited him to stay on her couch again. 

The next morning, Harrison was still there when she woke up. He was fast asleep on the couch, and she could’t help but admire him for just a moment. But fear that he would wake up and catch her looking made her peel her eyes away and make her way to the kitchen. 

The pattern continued for 4 more nights. Harrison would leave in the morning, but by sundown, he would be back to keep her company, always with food in hand. Y/n would never admit how much she enjoyed the little ritual. She almost wished Jace and Sierra would leave town more often. Harrison was good company. He didn’t bring any drama or uncomfortable situations. They did the exact same thing every single night, but there was nothing boring about it. He made it feel like it wasn’t just a routine. It was the most fun she had had outside of partying since she had moved to this town. 

On that Thursday night, Harrison fell asleep on the couch before their movie had even ended. The movie he had put on was chosen with only her in mind. He had had a long day, but he didn’t want to waste a night being away from her. So he had brought over the meal that he had heard Sierra mention she loved so much (for the 2nd time that week) and almost immediately fell asleep. The soft snores leaving his lips were too distracting for y/n to pay much attention to the resolution in the movie. She just stared at him.

If anyone else had been there, if anyone had happened to look through her window, they would have thought one of two things. They could have seen the way she looked at him and thought she was a being incredibly creepy, watching intently as her prey slept. Or they could have thought she was in love. 

She studied the light freckles on his face, unevenly spread out across his cheeks. She liked to imagine that he didn’t have them as a child, that he acquired them through plenty of happy days in the sun. She caught herself as she began to think about what he could have been doing in those days. This wasn’t something you thought about with your friends. She was letting her brain go further than she wanted to allow, so in an effort to backtrack, she got off the couch and brought the styrofoam dishes from their dinner with her. She threw the empty containers away and decided to pour herself a drink while she was up. 

For having such an empty fridge, the apartments array of alcohol was impressive. Most of their bottles were a good 3/4 of the way gone, but each one held another dumb memory with her roommates, or just herself. She was no stranger to drinking alone at 3 am on a Saturday night. 

She decided to just take a swig of a flavored vodka, one that Jace had drunkenly stole, unopened, from a party. She smiled at the memory, and let it distract her as she downed the liquid. She barely flinched at the undiluted taste. 

By the time she made it back to the couch, Harrison was awake. His eyes were still droopy and he was still resting his head on the arm rest, but he sat up a little to meet y/n’s eyes. 

“You missed the ending,” he nodded to the TV, which was rolling the credits slowly across the screen. 

“Oh, darn,” she replied sarcastically. 

“Didn’t like it?”

“It was ok. Would have been better if someone was awake to make fun of it with me.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Long day.”

“It’s fine. Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make fun of you somehow though. Speaking of, did you know you snore?”

“I do not.”

She let out a mocking snore, much louder than anything that had come from him, and he threw the blanket from the floor at her. 

“Well now that you’re so well rested, I’m going to bed. Listening to you snore is just exhausting.”

“You’re the worst,” he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Fell free to crash on the couch again if you want. I’ll see you later,” she smiled at him, and began to make her way to her room, letting out one more snore on her way there. 

The swig she had taken had done nothing to calm her brain or her heart. Once the door to her bedroom was closed, she just stared at the shaking in her hands. She hated being this way, feeling this way, but there seemed to be no way around it. She knew that once break was over, she had to find a way to set things back to normal, but she had no idea how to do that. She couldn’t just suddenly and inexplicably revoke their friendship. 

She had to find a way.

Harrison didn’t come over the next night. She was almost tempted to text him and ask if he was planning on it, but she thought better of it. That didn’t stop her from waiting around in the living room all night. For a text. For a call. For a knock on the door. Hell, she would have taken him barging in with food or a semi-threatening invitation to go out. Hours passed, and nothing came. There was no sign that Harrison had even thought of her. She took it as a bittersweet win, and decided to go to bed earlier than usual. There was no reason to stay up. 

When she woke up, she had a text from him. “Sorry I didn’t come over last night. Had something going on, but I’ll see you tonight for the last one before everyone comes home. Promise I won’t fall asleep this time xx”

She smiled at the text and tried to forget about it until nightfall, but man was that hard when she had nothing to do all day. All of the things she had to do ended up bringing her thoughts back to him. She tried tidying her closet, but the clothes for their project were the only things she could think of. She tried watching a movie, but she couldn’t help imagining his commentary. Editing the photos for the project was an obvious no, since staring directly at his face did nothing to help. 

Harrison finally showed up around 8 pm. Usually he brought some kind of dinner, but this time, he had several bags filled with junk food, along with a brown paper bag.

“Wow, you… really came prepared.”

“Last night of break, we gotta celebrate.”

“Celebrate going back to classes?”

“Ok, maybe not celebrate, but we should get drunk.”

“Yeah, I can get behind that,” she laughed, inviting him inside. 

An hour later, the living room was littered with wrappers and empty mini liquor bottles. The Bluetooth speaker in the corner of the room was softly playing a Spotify playlist that Harrison had insisted on showing her, although neither of them were paying much attention to it. 

Their heads were laying on opposite headrests, staring up at the ceiling as they talked for hours about nothing that would be important the next day, but was important enough to start another heated discussion every few minutes. 

Harrison could tell that she was getting progressively more tipsy, and he tried to match her drinking pace. He loved seeing her all giggly like this, and he wanted to feel just as happy as she seemed. 

Suddenly, she sat up with a gasp, looking towards the speaker in the corner. 

“Is this The 1975?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I love this song,” she exclaimed, falling back onto the armrest.

He propped himself up on his elbows to get better look at her. She was singing loudly, flailing her arms around dramatically with the music. He couldn’t help but stare as she really got into it. He was trying to hold in his laughter and adoration, but it was hard. He didn’t think he had ever seen her like this. She always seemed a little more carefree than her usual self at parties, but never like this. It was nice. 

She caught him looking at her, causing her to stop her little show. She propped herself up, mirroring his position on the opposite end of the couch. 

“What are you looking at Osterfield?” she teased. 

“Just you,” he blushed, breaking eye contact to sit up, “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

She hated the way that comment made her stomach churn with anxiety. She rolled her eyes at him without realizing, and it made his heart break just a little. 

“Harrison-“ she began, but with that tone, he knew which direction this conversation was going. 

“No, y/n, please. I know you don’t really date anyone, and I know that’s like a thing with you. Jace already warned me against this, but… we’ve had a really great week, and I’ve had a lot of fun with you, I feel like you’ve been enjoying it too. I just figured I could shoot my shot.”

“Well you should have fucking listened to Jace,” she spat, getting up from the couch to grab some of the wrappers from the ground to go throw them away. The buzz she had going had dispersed, sobering her up just enough to start to panic inside. Cleaning was one of her ways to help with that feeling. 

He watched her make her way to the kitchen, hands full of trash. He sighed and grabbed the remaining litter to follow her. 

“Y/n, please, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“Well it’s too fucking late for that.”

“Y/n-“

“No, Harrison. You knew it was a bad idea to say something like that, Jace warned you for a fucking reason, and you did it anyway. How fucking stupid do you have to be?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“Well clearly you are. You knew what would happen and you did it anyway… So I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Are you being serious? All I said was-“

“I don’t fucking care. I want you to leave.”

“Y/n-“

“GET THE FUCK OUT.”

He wasn’t expecting her to scream at him like that. He wanted to be mad at her, and deep down he was, but a surge of pity took over him when he saw the flash of fear behind her eyes as she yelled. That didn’t make him any happier about the situation. 

He let out a heavy sigh and stormed off to grab his jacket and keys before he left, slamming the door on his way out. 

The music on the speaker was still playing, but it slowly crackled and disconnected as he got further away. Finally, the music fully stopped, and y/n was left in silence. Left to accept the reality of what she had just done, again. 

A/N: it is midnight, this is already a day late, and I haven't slept in almost 2 weeks, so i may not have edited this. But happy late birthday to Harrison, I hope y’all like this chapter!! Lmk what you think about it :)

Tags: (it won’t let me tag quite a few of you!)

@embrace-themagic​ @fanficparker​ @baconlover001​ @chloe-geoghegan1​ @chonisberonica​ @heartbeats-wildly​ @saturn-aka-six​  @ghostofdrfluke​ @calum-hoodwinked-me​ @peterplanet​ @mischiefmanaged49​ @bucky-newtlock​ @johnsambrosemcclaren​ @r3ader @lizzyosterfield​ @nicotine-sunshine820​ @hrryhllnd​ @itsjusttor​ @ciannemar83​ @emistrash​ @happyharrison​ @hiding-behindmy-glasses​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @wolvesofthewinter​ @ccchloeee-666 @softholand​ @cosmic-mint-tea​ @suemesabby @wholeheartedlymendes @jess-holland23​ @whattheactualbollocks @sovereignparker​