#there's still stories left to be told here

[writella]

Here He Is, Finally

Synopsis: “When’s it gonna be my turn? Open me up, tell me you like it, fuck me to death, love me until I love myself—” This is a story about the inner struggles of a desiring Daryl who just wants to be free of the perceptions the town, and his own mind, have put on him, so he can love you and love himself, in the ways he’s always wanted to.

—or: As Daryl becomes the talk of the town, insecurity sets in that hinders him from having sex with you— the thing you most want to do.

Details: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader, ambiguous age gap, mixing early seasons’ + later seasons’ personality of Daryl, the town being mean but also thinking Daryl’s hot because he is, discussions of gossiping, insecurity, and poor self-image, Daryl fights someone :), and smut— unprotected + he’s nervous but then it gets good, and it’s their/Daryl’s/your first time in whatever way you want it to be.

A/N: He’s literally me (I’m a girl).

— With love from writella. ♡

There it was. You finally said it. You told Daryl that you were ready to have sex.

When you told him, the two of you were having a quiet morning and he was about to leave. Pulling yourself up to his height, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he took you by the waist, one hand reached up to hold your head, rubbing his thumb there. Good, you had thought, he’s reciprocating. That let you know he was okay, but still, underneath, you knew he was embarrassed about last night. You weren’t going to bring it up though, not then. You wanted to move forward, to show him that you didn’t care. “Daryl,” you started, words slow, uneasy in voice but sure in intention, as you whispered to him from above his shoulder, “I just wanted to tell you– that– I feel like I’m ready.” You paused for a moment. “And whatever you feel, I’m okay with it. Just talk to me.” As silence ensued, you kissed him on the cheek, “I love you,” you said, and pulled back.

Daryl kept his hands in yours as he looked at you. His features were sad and soft as much as they were unreadable. He kissed you on the forehead. “I love you too,” he said– it wasn’t the first time you two had exchanged those words– and then he left. Just like that.

You had no expectation for how he would react. You only knew he wouldn’t give you a flat-out no, so this, was understandable. But still, there was something hollow about it, even if his kiss and words were tender. It was another relationship moment that reminded you that these things never happen as they do in fairytale romances.

You see, you had always pictured him or whoever you were with at the time, bringing you close, kissing you, their fingers trailing down and under the hem of your skirt or pants, asking you if you were ready, if you were sure, if you wanted them to go slow, slower, but Daryl— as it turns—was incredibly pure, or at least pretending to be. Either too nervous or sensitive about these things, possibly inexperienced, or much more innocent with his intentions than you ever expected. It’s like you knew Daryl like the back of your hand, but when it came to anything about you as a couple, his history, who he’s dated before– you were clueless. You didn’t know what it could be.

One thing you did suspect, although Daryl has never told you, is that he thought of you as precious, something to be delicate with, like a flower. Sometimes you’d tell him he didn’t have to be so slow or soft when you were kissing– he was always a little sloppy anyway– and whenever there was a task to get done you’d be the first to tell anyone you could do it yourself, he knew this about you. And it’s not like he babies you or anything, that was never his way. Like when you two were fighting walkers, or doing work around the communities, or when he’s teaching you how to do something. You’ve even told him that he could be a bit demanding sometimes, grouchy, rough, and he agreed– that was true. He didn’t do it on purpose, the whole being hard on you thing. But alone? When he was on top of you or you over him? Waking up to you? Feeling your hand reach for his own in the dark? Even just eating dinner with you? The guy was a mess! A little boy, even. Heart racing. Eyes averted at times.

Whenever he nipped you, on the lips, or the neck, maybe he pushed you on the bed too hard, grabbed your waist too tight that it squeezed the bone, there were always silent apologizes of gentle circles, sweet kisses, and tongue licks to soothe the pain or possible bruises he left on you. And sometimes, when you’re home alone or you shower together, and he starts to kiss you or pull you in by the waist, he almost always sets out with the intention that this time he’d finally do it— the sex thing— he always wanted to. Only if you knew! Honestly, he’d feel like such a pervert if he let you know how many times, both before and after you got together, that he’s thought of being inside you, or you on your knees for him, or him kissing up your thighs and tasting you– he genuinely thinks he’d really like it, all of it, but especially that. But every time you’ve kissed and kissed enough, he’d get too overwhelmed about how to proceed or too nervous to even try. He tells you that you two should shower or go to bed or that he has to go for whatever reason. So all you’ve done is grind on each other, a lot, but that’s about it. You know he’s gotten hard and you’ve gotten wet, but you’re not sure if he’s ever noticed. He wants to put his hands in your pants, he wants to rip your blouse, he wants to squeeze your tits and slap your ass, but every time he thinks about actually doing it, he feels it's too forward or raunchy, or maybe it's not actually like him in the way he’s pictured in his head, or maybe you’d hate it, and specifically the way he did it. And he has thought about doing it slowly, romantically, but every time he thinks about doing that, he feels stupid, thinking he’ll come off as clumsy and pathetic to you. He doesn’t exactly get the concept of slow and sexy yet— reaching up, breathing you in, letting his fingers linger, or hands caress and massage. It’s not that he couldn’t do it though, or so he thinks, if he really tries; it's that doesn’t even think he’s sexy to begin with.

The only thing Daryl knows for sure are the things people call him when they think he’s not listening.

“Deep and… grunty,” one much too young girl said to her equally young friend who giggled, indicating her agreement even if she was too afraid to verbalize it. “I just like his voice,” the first girl said, “it’s sexy.” Or, “Wild,” as one of Aaron’s friends whispered to him, “Like he could throw me around, do it in front of the whole town, and wouldn’t care who saw.” To which Aaron scoffed and replied, “That’s literally my fucking friend.” But in truth, it’s not like he hadn’t thought about it himself, how Daryl looked underneath his vest and button-downs– it was just once though!– he promises!– as if he needed to explain it to himself. He even told his husband about it; they had agreed on Daryl’s attractiveness. Eric called it “rugged,” and they laughed about it over dinner. Now, Aaron would repeat that word as he overheard another group of ladies discussing ways to describe or trademark some of the male leaders in town. As Aaron passed by, “rugged,” was his suggested alternative to the word “beast” when one older lady described Daryl, in a way that would make anyone not a part of the conversation cringe, “Beast, sexy armed beast.” But Aaron was only met with silence and weird hums until a girl replied that ��sexy armed rugged,” doesn’t make any sense. To that, all the ladies agreed. As Aaron walked away, wanting nothing more with this kind of conversation about his friends, he caught the new suggestion: “Daddy,” a girl had said with the widest smile on her face— she wasn’t a teenager, but it was obviously her first time being vocal about these things. She must have felt she said something so salacious. And as much as Aaron wanted to gag, there was also a part of him that reluctantly stopped himself from laughing and blushing with the rest of the woman. One of them rolled her eyes saying, “They can’t all be daddy,” to which another girl said, “But they kind of are!” and then he was too far away to hear anymore.

Daryl didn’t get any of it.

The only ones that truly bothered him though were when they added, “I know he’s a little ugly but,” or “I know he’s not my type but,” or “I know he looks a little dirty but,” “And he never does his hair but,” “And he’s not like the smartest but,” but, but, but—

It all made him feel bad about himself; more confused.

Even when it was just generally flattering, he found it hard to take any of it as a compliment. Sometimes he would, maybe the whispers of him being “kinda hot,” on the days when he’d return to his cut-off sleeved shirts, or maybe those moments when a lady would be talking to her friend saying how he’s “handsome,” or how she just knows “he’s packing–big–” and what’s better than a big dick, right? At least that is what Daryl thought– it's the bit of Merle in him– and he bets Negan wished he had one— Daryl was pretty sure Negan’s is a tiny little bitch just like his personality. No one gets to kill one of his best friends and gets more than a three-incher. Right, J.C.? If you’re even up there? Not that Daryl would mind if you were or weren’t, or cares if you did, he wouldn’t mind– Daryl didn’t think about religion that much anymore. And on that note, he realizes that he doesn’t do a lot of the same things he used to anymore. Like the way he would walk around without a care, even confidently sometimes, not thinking about how much he swung his arms or the way he talked or the way his hair fell that day. There was this one time, as he was walking over to Rick in the garden, telling him he couldn’t find whatever particular tools Rick wanted, he yelled, “They ain’t there no more, Rick!” that he heard some older guy say to his friend that Daryl sounded like a “human gremlin,” to which the friend tried to one-up him by saying, “more like a garbage disposal.” Then another day, some girl said he looks like a “wet rat sometimes,” especially when his hair is flat or, as said in the phrase, wet; and he never forgot it, either of them or anything anyone has ever said about him. It’s always been like this. Even when he was a kid.

Daryl tries to remember that people have just gotten too comfortable now that Alexandria is back on track, at least that’s basically what you had said. One day, Daryl came into your room, huffing and throwing himself on your desk chair, saying, “Some people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.” To which you had asked him what was wrong, but he shook his head.

“Well,” you begin, responding to his un-answer, “some gossip is misogynized. It used to be a way for women to spread information, but–” you avoid the lecture— “I get what you mean.” You look at him, seeing the way his eyes still drift. “I can’t tell you everything, but Rosita and I had heard some people speculate on the whole her and Saddiq and Gabriel thing.” You shook your head, your eyes rolling a little, “It made her upset. I could tell. But it took her a while to talk about it. I think some people forget they can talk behind closed doors now. Our porches aren’t as private as they used to be, and people have gotten mean.” To that, you both nodded in agreement and then you climbed toward the edge of your bed to hold his hand. Something was obviously wrong. “Has anyone said anything about you?”

Again, he shakes his head and you have to leave it at that— all he wanted to do was ask questions about you now, and he wouldn’t let you change the subject.

But at home, alone, he stares at the mirror, trying to see what other people see: handsome, rugged, possibly wild… but all he saw were things he didn’t l understand, things that made him feel he wasn’t good enough. Did they really think he was attractive? And if so, why did they always have to bring up that there was something completely unattractive about him before the compliment? And why were those remarks always easier to believe? Or was it all just some weird fantasy they felt dirty about having? And was being rude behind his back was some sort of justification for it? Was it all of them above? Most importantly, did you think any of this?

Next Saturday, a week after you told him you were ready, the town gathered in the church during the evening for the monthly communal meal. This was something that started during the rehabilitation of Alexandria, another thing that the population was getting too big to contain, but Rick and Judith liked it. So, Michonne agreed to keep it— for now— despite reasoning that “this is what holidays are for, Rick.”

It was about an hour in, 6pm and sunset now past. Some people who had been busy working were still filing in, little by little, but for the most part, a majority of citizens were seated, eating, and chatting. There was a steady rain outside that made everything smell fresh, and if it wasn’t for all the chatter, you could even possibly hear the light drumming on the church walls. Everyone was quite pleased about it, spring seemed to be coming early.

Daryl had not come to see you last night and left early this morning so you didn’t know where he went or what he did, but what you did know for certain is that he never carried an umbrella. Therefore, when he finally arrived, 30 minutes later, his hair was soaked, and since he didn’t even wear his jacket, the long sleeves of his shirt were drenched with water droplets sticking to his vest and shoes that sloshed and left wet footprints on the wooden floor.

Obvious to say, he was noticed by all.

There is a fine line with Daryl between not giving a fuck about how he was perceived, and caring far too much while not willing to do anything about it, and of course, with all that has happened in the past few weeks, it was the ladder. He hated being the center of attention, but it was hard for him to not be noticeable, it never was, especially now. He felt ridiculous.

As he walks onto the stage– where all the tables of food are placed– you follow him.

“Hi,” you say next to him.

“Hi,” he replies, calling you by your nickname kindly enough, but not ever looking at you.

“You know, I think Rick was hoping you were coming back on time. I don’t know why he put all that stuff on his chair if it wasn’t for you or Michonne and Michonne sat with me.”

He simply nods, humming as acknowledgment.

“Daryl,” you move to the other side of the table as he gathers his food so he can look at you. Quietly you say, “We don’t have to talk about it now, but– I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable the other day. Or if it was about the night before, you just have to tell me.” You poke his shoulder, “You’re acting weird and you know it.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” is all he grumbles.

“But I still want to say I’m sorry if I did.”

Daryl quickly finds some napkins to dry his hands and wrists with and comes over to place them on the sides of your head to kiss you there. “You ain’t got anything to be sorry about. Alright? I’m fine.” His hands drop and holds you by the neck for a moment, the movement makes some water droplets bleed onto your clothes, you feel it but you say nothing. The only thing Daryl notices from you is that your eyes look almost identical to his despite the differing color– his mood is affecting yours, but he doesn’t know what to say right now to make you feel better so he opts for something he always know is true, “You’re perfect. You know that right?” And I’m just fuckin’ weirdo, he wants to add, but he doesn’t.

You were smiling at him. He doesn’t get it. He looked like an idiot all soaking wet and you were smiling at him. There couldn’t be a better reaction, but still, it’s moments like this where he can’t believe you’re real. All you say is “Okay,” never taking a compliment, just like him, instead of finding a way to break-up with him like he always nearly suspects. “Come to me when you finish, alright? We can leave if you want?”

“Alright,” he responds and you leave him be.

As Daryl goes down the rows of tables picking out what he wants, he heads to the last one. The way the event was set up was that everyone who came early had the opportunity to take a seat at one of the four tables that were placed along each corner of the stage and the rest sat in the pews, but despite the higher vantage point the stage gave, that did not mean Daryl couldn’t hear what those around the stage were saying around him— as always. It must be a hunter’s ear or something.

“Be careful,” a woman says smirking, her eyes gesturing to Daryl. “Let’s hope he doesn’t wet us.” The friend in front of her snickers, looking back to see that Daryl is now by the table just above theirs. Whispering, the first woman continues, shaking her head, “I don’t know how Rick or the girl put up with it. She just acted like nothing was wrong. He’s mudding up the whole damn church!”

Daryl keeps his back turned. This ends up being his last straw. “How about you shut the fuck up,” he mutters.

“Excuse me?”

Louder, facing no one in particular he yells, “Why does everyone act like I don’t got ears?”

You look up, synchronized with everyone in the church and get up with Rick who is already slowly approaching him, but Michonne yanks you down.

“What is your problem?”

To that, he turns back to the woman, “How ‘bout you say what you said again and stop talking shit under your breath.”

“What?”

“I said,” he starts yelling again, “if you got somethin’ to say about me lady, say it to ma’ face. That’s what I said.”

“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rick asks almost warningly, but not before someone yells, “Who the fuck are you talking to, man?” from one of the aisles in the back. It was her husband, now standing from his seat. He and his wife make eye contact, and instantly he’s moving closer.

Daryl walks to the edge of the front stage, barking a quick “move” without any pause and Eugene and Siddiq violently bob their heads and grab their plates as Daryl steps on the table and jumps to the floor.

Rick tries to push him back but it’s no use, Daryl pushes him in return and he and the husband are charging at each other, speaking over each other: “What did you say to my wife?” “Told her to shut the fuck up. Thought I said it loud enough–” “Nah, man you were mumblin’ like always–” “Or d’you need me to say it louder with ma garbage disposal mouth?” Daryl pushes him, “Huh?” “I’m not fighting you, man.” But Daryl persists, getting in the man’s face, their noses almost touching. He whispers, “You know, maybe your wife’s got everyone’s name in her mouth because she don’t fuckin’ like you.” The man keeps shaking his head, but Daryl surprises him, he isn’t the only one the town gossips about. “She’s fucking Mark,” he tells him. That was true, and people knew it. “He’s your friend, ain’t he? Maybe that’s why she’s always–” But no, not him, her husband did not know, so he punches, straight in the eye. Daryl almost smiles as he takes the next swing.

The two are tussling, but not for long as Rick takes the chance to get Daryl from behind, taking him away with Gabriel’s help. “You done?” Rick asks as Gabriel holds him on the other side, His grip honestly does nothing though and Daryl shrugs him off. Poor Gabe looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm to see the church– practically his church– in such disarray.

With that, and with Daryl raging too much to contain, he shrugs Rick off and stomps out.

Michonne finally takes her hand off of your wrist and you make you way to leave too. As you walk, you look back to Rick who is already trying to follow, and wordlessly tell him that it’s your turn now, then, turn to awkwardly dodge the people still standing in the aisle and collect your things to go.

Daryl was not hard to find. It almost made you think he wanted to be found or knew you’d go after him— he’s being such a child today. Despite the town lights, you hold out your flashlight to find him sits on a tree stump on the edge of town next to one of his favorite trees. The leaves did a terrible job of covering him from anything but you knew he didn’t care. It was almost laughable honestly. Still, you take pity, he was yours and you were concerned. “I know you don’t care about getting wet,” you say with no malice or disappointment in your voice, “but all that water in your shoes can cause blisters. You didn’t even wear the ones that don’t have holes.”

He just shakes his head, as always, and water droplets fall from the tips of his hair.

“Remember when that happened to me and you drained them with needles even though Saddiq told us not to?”

He stares at you, stone-faced for a moment. “You’re the one who told me to do it.”

“Because they hurt really bad!”

“You were being a baby.”

“Really?” You ask ironically. “So if I’m the baby why are you acting like one right now? It’s been raining since morning, Daryl! Not even a jacket? You’re obviously upset about something but I’m not going to continue this with you in the rain, looking like a sad, wet puppy.”

He sneered at the comment, wet.

“Let’s just go home, okay? Let me take you.”

“We don’t live together.”

You frown. “Don’t be mean, Daryl,” you gently warn. “You know what I mean.”

You hold your hand out for him, water collecting in your palm as you wait. It was more of a gesture than actual help as you two were still a few feet away from each other. “Please? You could have already ran away on your bike or gone home and locked your door but you didn’t. I don’t know what’s going on but don’t act like I don’t know you.”

Reluctantly, he gets up, walking to you in almost slow motion. You wish you could call him the drama queen he is right now, but it was time to get out of this rain– you would hold it in for the time being.

As you enter the small place, you make no conversation. You simply get to work and he doesn’t stop you. You take off your rain jacket and boots, then you take off his vest and boots. You drag him to his room and hang up your sweater and take off your jewelry, then you empty his pant pockets. Finally, you hold his hand as he trails behind you and into the bathroom. You unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants and place them all in the hamper. He takes off his underwear and helps you take off your clothes too. When you’re done, you turn on the water and go in, he follows. You bathe and wash his hair in silence. You are tender and gentle, and he knows it, he appreciates it, but his mind is loud, and angry, and he feels so pathetic as you wash him like he’s 5 years old. You turn around to start washing yourself as he takes care of cleaning his legs and lower area. After he’s done, all he can do is look at you, your body, the soft humming you can’t help but do when you shower. It’s exactly as he said, you’re perfect. He wants to bang his head against the wall because of it.

When you two finish, you sit on his bed, wearing one of his white shirts and a pair of boxers, he wears the same except his bottoms are sweatpants. He hates these kinds of casual clothes actually, he’s only okay with wearing it sometimes, but he has nothing else at the moment. All he had to do was give his clothes to Carol to wash, but he didn’t. He hasn’t really done anything this week.

“Ms. Ellen is a bitch.” You finally say, giving him an ice pack for his eye. “And so is Mr. Gary and they both have the whiteness names in the world. And they’re both lazy as fuck and reek of nepotism because they only had one of the biggest houses and biggest egos in Alexandria because they were friends with Deanna and they’re still bitter that their house being destroyed in the fire— which I get— but it’s not okay that she uses her bitterness to talk shit about everyone. And it’s also not okay that you used your anger to fight someone who didn’t deserve it. That wasn’t like you.”

“Maybe it is. You didn’t always know me.”

“Well, sure, can act like a tough—”

“I don’t act like anything—”

“Fine, I’ll change it: Can you be a tough guy? Yeah. But do you pick fights and make big scenes in front of the kids like that? No, you don’t.” You stare at him, tapping him on the knee and forcing him to look at you. “You not talking is obviously not working, Daryl. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He takes a moment. “I just—”

“What?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” he finally says lowly.

“I don’t think you could,” you answer, “I’m not even now, I’m just frustrated. Or confused really. Why do you think you would?”

He lowers his ice pack, “Cause I’m not fuckin’ Rick.”

You laugh a little. “Well, I did have my suspicions, but great, that’s good to know. I’m glad you’re not fucking Rick.”

He sucks his teeth. “Be serious.”

“Have you not realized I’ve been trying to be? For weeks now? It obviously doesn’t work.” Both of you look down as you continue, “And I finally tell you how I feel and what I want and you just leave and barely talk to me for the rest of the week. And before you even mention coming into my bed at night or saying goodnight or good morning to me and telling me what you’ll do that day, that’s not talking, it's just saying stuff. At some point I can’t always chalk it up to Oh, that’s just Daryl; at some point, a person starts thinking that they're the problem. That I’m the problem! That I’m not good enough.”

A tear falls down your cheek involuntarily, then another; you were clenching your jaw after you finished speaking but it was no use. After everything, all the bullshit and the girls and the punch to his eye that really fucking hurt even though it was his fault he got it, this is actually the worst thing that has happened to Daryl in the past months– making you cry.

“You’re more than good enough,” he says in his mumble, still not looking at you. “I’m just stupid.”

“You’re not stupid!” You yell frustratingly as you wipe tears away. “Stop talking down about yourself!”

Daryl looks off into the window. He wants to speak, he does. The words are all on the tip of his tongue but they cannot come out, they never do. As he watches you wipe away your last tears, he thinks everyone is right, that that guy is right, he has a garbage mouth, his voice is poison. He never makes any sense and he always says the wrong thing. Why speak anyway?

“I can’t help you or at least try to understand if you don’t say anything. I know it's hard— I don’t like doing it either. I was scared to tell you what I did last week. But it just starts with one thing.”

“It's too hard to.”

“But I’ve never judged you, right? ”

He shakes his head. You haven’t.

“The first thing that comes to your mind when I say, ‘what’s wrong?’, what is it? Just say it. I don’t care what it is. I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to say you’re wrong, anything—”

“People think I’m ugly,” he interrupts, “I’ve heard them say it.”

Your eyes widen, in shock for him and in shock that people could still care about such stupid things right now. “Who said that to you?”

He shakes his head. “That’s why I mentioned Rick. No one says stuff like that about Rick.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be like Rick and you don’t have to be.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

He gestures to himself, slapping his hands on his thighs, “Look at me.”

There’s something about the way his hand then reaches to cover his eyes in frustration, the way he slides it down to scratch his beard, accidentally magnifying to you the wisps of salt and pepper among the brown that gives you a clue to what he means. “I’m not some little girl, and I haven’t been for a long time.”

“I know, but you’re not my age either. And I don’t always think about you when it comes to it, it’s about me- I think about me.”

“So what about it? When it comes to the hair on your head and your eyes and the way you talk— that has nothing to do with how old you are, that’s just who you are. You didn’t choose to look as you do. And you and Rick have always looked the same age if I have to mention him, and his beard is whiter than yours at this point. Neither of you look old, or bad.” Your words do nothing so far. “You also have a better build than plenty of people in town. You’re stronger too.”

“But when they talk about Rick, all they say is that he talks too much and that he’s bossy and hardass and at least that’s true.”

You couldn’t help but smile, almost laughing a bit at that. It kind of was true.

“I’ve never heard anyone say things about him the way they say about me. Never anything about how he looks. But when they talk about me— they think I’m a fuckin’ animal.” There is silence after this. The word wild lingers in his mind and animal in yours. Again you want to ask, who could say that and have they not realized all Daryl has done for this place? Then, the more you listen, the more you realize that hidden beneath those with endless respect are some with hearts of cruelty and minds stuck in the regular old world ways that don’t exist anymore. “And sometimes, when I think about why you like me, I think that maybe it’s despite other things.”

“Despite?”

“Despite.” He practically spits.

“We all have bad qualities though. We’re not perfect.”

“I mean that I’m not some regular good looking guy.”

“Why would I want regular?” Your smile fades as his sad eyes persist. “Daryl, I can’t change your mind or make you feel the way I do about you, but why can’t you trust that I like you, and that I want to be around you? And that I’m,” you blush, “very attracted to you and I’ve felt like an embarrassing teenage girl the past few months waiting and trying to get you to have sex with me!” Quietly you say, “Have you not realized how much I really want you? How much I care? Everyday I feel lucky.”

He can’t take it. “Guess it’s like you said— can’t believe it if I don’t see it myself.”

His mouth is screwed shut, his throat tight, but just like you, it’s no use, a tear rolls down his cheek. Immediately you hug him. He holds you tightly in return and even though it makes your ribs hurt a little, you let him. All of this makes you see how much you two are alike than you’ve ever realized.

“You know,” you say into his hair, “there was this one time, I was up super early and couldn’t go back to sleep so I went out for a walk. I passed by Olivia’s house and she waved me over from her window and asked me if I could help her restock the pantry before Rick came later in the day to check it because she had this huge migraine. Well, that turned into me doing the whole thing for her. She said she was going inside for a break and some water and the next thing I know she’s asleep on her couch! And you know how her niece lives with her? I guess she runs in the morning and while I was finishing up, her and her friend lean up against one of the garage doors and I hear them talking. I was just about to open the door to leave but then she says, ‘She’s sweet but kind of a kiss-ass, right? Like a try-hard?’ And then her friend goes, ‘Yeah, she really wants to be one of them,’ ‘But all she is, is just Daryl’s little girlfriend.’” Daryl lets go to face you, his eyes incredulous just as yours were when he said someone called him ugly. “And then they started saying how I insert myself into places or something, so thought if I came out right then and they see me having done Olivia’s job for her… I didn't want them to get an up-close look of them being right. So I waited until they went in the house and then I left and for the whole rest of the week I was upset because I thought I was becoming friends with those girls but really I wasn’t, and I questioned if Rick and Michonne or Rosita or Glenn and Maggie even thought of me as a friend because they actually like me or if I’m even good enough to be one or if it’s only because I’m associated to you that they care to talk to me. I felt pathetic too.” You pause. “So, I’m really sorry, Daryl. You don’t deserve to feel like you’re being picked on in the town you live in— in the place you helped create.”

“It ain’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t make a difference. I should have said something.”

“You didn’t have to. I wanted that to happen.”

“But I wish I knew. Cause I would have if I knew. I feel like I let Michonne stop me because I didn’t understand. And all I’m saying is whether I've had it as bad as you or not, I do get it. And I’m angry for you. And you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me things like this. It was dumb of me to keep my feelings in, just like you do with everything.”

Daryl swipes his hair to the side, parts of it are dry and waving while other areas are still wet, making him think about the rat joke. “No one likes you because of me,” he says. “You’re likable because you’re you and you care. And fuck those dumb-ass girls. They’re idiots for saying that.” He rubs your thigh. “I didn’t say anything the other day because when we were in the shower the night before I,” God, he feels stupid, “I got hard and you saw it and I realized it was the first time you saw it like that before and, I don’t know, I got scared.”

“Did you think that I’d think you’re ugly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Daryl,” you tisk, “after the amount of times we’ve showered together already?”

He gets defensive, “I don’t know! Felt different.”

“People usually get excited to know their partner is excited because of them.”

“I just feel like you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Why do you always think that? I don’t have any expectations. I just want you to show me you love me.” You begin to look nervous, “I want to feel wanted too.”

“But I do… I do want you.”

“Then show me.”

“I don’t know how.”

You try to think, “Daryl— what is it that you picture when- when you want to do it?”

“I picture you,” he says simply.

“You do?” Your face is immediately warm.

He laughs, “Of course I do.”

“Well what do I do? Or what do you do to me?”

“Depends.”

“Pick one,” you say, almost desperately.

“Sometimes it just starts with what we always do. Kissin’. Maybe you’re on top of me.”

You waste no time; you get on top of him.

“And I press you down.” Daryl’s hands are now heavy on your hips, your hands are on his chest, you rock into him slowly.

“And sometimes I think about you bouncing on me or-” he pauses, the way you rock and the way he pushes up to you hitting a perfect spot of friction that makes the both of you gasp.

“Say it,” you tell him.

“I’m fucking you from behind. Or you're on the bottom and I’m going hard or being all gentle and shit like you but I don’t know how.”

“You know we can do all that, right?”

Daryl is red. Both you and him are surprised at yourself, but his bashfulness almost brings it out of you naturally. And honestly, your jacked and grumpy dilf boyfriend has left you repressed for far too long— you’re horny.

Suddenly, you move yourself onto one of his thighs and start palming his bulge as you rock. “Do I do this in your dreams?”

He almost groans, “Now you do.”

You move yourself from his thigh and lay down to start kissing him. He reciprocates, grabbing your face and pulling you close. Daryl starts nipping at your neck and you try your hardest not to yelp so he won’t stop. As you two continue, your slick starts to wet his boxers and you press your legs together as he gets harder under his sweatpants.

“Have you ever noticed how wet I get when we kiss?”

“Only at night,” it’s hard for his words to come out as you continue palming him, “when you don’t have clothes on.”

“And you never did anything about it?” You whine. “Do you know how bad I need you? How much I think about you?”

“I think about you more.”

“You do?

“Yes.” Daryl swallows, whimpering a little. You now stroke him, his dick riding up against his thigh, and it feels too good. “What- What do I do in your dreams?”

“You lay me on the bed and put your dick in me and fuck me and it feels amazing,” you say between hot breaths. “And you’re not scared to do it.”

“I wanna do it.”

“So, please, Daryl, do it. I want it so bad.”

Daryl uses your words as courage. He takes you off of him and goes over you.

You both take off your shirts and he strips you from his boxers and him from his sweatpants.

Finally, without regret or without him turning away you see his cock stand. It’s proud, meaty, and you can’t lie, a little scary, but you’ll never tell him, even if your widening eyes give you away. It’ll fit, you assure yourself. You won’t be afraid.

“You okay?” He asks, timidity setting in again.

But you nod assuredly. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You pout, he’s stalling. “When you look at me, what do you see?”

“Beautiful.”

“And you're handsome. No pretenses. No exceptions.” You come up on your knees to face him, kissing his lips softly. “It’s like we said, we’ve dreamed about this.”

You lay down again, and Daryl places his hands on your inner thighs to spread them, making space for himself. You watch as takes hold of himself, mouth agape and pumping himself a few times as he stares at your body before slowly entering you. Your pussy is drooling at the sight.

Your eyes instantly close and scrunch. Although it worries Daryl, he’s glad you’ve shut them so he can continue looking up and down— up at your face to see if you’re in pain and down as he watches his cock enter you for the first time. You were incredibly tight to him, tighter than he ever imagined, he wasn’t used to this feeling and he liked it, a lot. It made his stomach clench and all his muscles flex as his breathing gets heavier, trying to stop the possibility of him moaning at the sight of it all.

“Are you okay?”

It was big and there was something about it that felt good but it hurt, the stretch indescribable, but you nod and tell him, “I like it,” because that was true, and everything else felt like too much to explain right now, your thoughts almost dissipating.

“You sure?”

You just nod again, whining.

“Alright,” he says, putting his hands on the bed to start.

Once more your eyes screw shut. He almost takes himself out before he pushes back into you again. He doesn’t know if he went slow enough but he tried. Your eyes wrinkling because of how hard you closed them doesn’t help though. He wants to tell you to relax but he’s not even relaxed himself to even make it sound believable.

He tries again, not going so far out this time and slowly goes back in to the hilt again, so slowly in fact he thinks that must have been awkward for you. He stops, tries one more time, then stops again. Your sounds seem like you’re hurt. He knows you’ll say it’s just pain and adjustment to his size but he instantly perceives it as disgust. He knows it’s not, but he can’t help it, he can’t. He must be ‘too much’; ‘too big,’ that’s what it is. Those are things he has heard in porn tapes Merle used to give him or things he noticed in porno mags he maybe used to read that he had found in a store near Hershel’s farm all those years ago, and supposedly it was a good thing for it to be too much, but now, look at you: you were in pain. And it was taking everything in him not to ram into you. He felt pathetic, again. Stupid, again. Like he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe he should just withdraw right now, clean you up, try to give you a sympathetic look through his hair that said he was sorry for defiling you and not even make you feel an ounce of pleasure in the process. Everyone was right, he is a joke.

“Daryl,” you say, looking up at him, “you don’t have to keep stopping for me. I just need to relax and you just need to be slow. I think I can take it.”

“I know,” he responds, kissing your forehead.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him. “Do what feels right to you. You have to trust me to tell you if it hurts or not.”

He almost laughs at that. You think he’s so strong; that he has all the power. It’s so strange to him.

Daryl puts his head in the crux of your neck, closes his eyes, and tries again. He holds your waist, thumb on your ribs and the other fingers on your back as he pushes his hips into you.

You hug his chest and feel all of it. “Make yourself feel good Daryl, it’s gonna feel so good to me if you do that, I promise.” After his 4th small pump you let out a whiny moan of relief. “Oh- okay- keep going.”

Daryl moves his elbows to the bed by your head and starts pushing his hips against you, finding a rough yet steady rhythm. He loves the slapping sound your bodies are making and can’t help but speed up. He goes deeper and you start moaning. He already feels he’s losing himself. He tries to kiss you to slow down, but realizes he can’t plow into you the same way he just found out he likes. He goes back to it and he starts grunting and groaning— there is a part of him that is embarrassed by it but it just feels so good. “Are you gonna come?” He asks between sharp thrusts.

“Don’t focus on that,” you tell him. “Stay like this. Please.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, he really can’t think of anything anymore than continuing to pump himself in you so he does. You try your best to rock up into him, but he has full control, his hands on your hips still as tight as ever as he pushes into you, making you and the bed bounce at his mercy.

You’re more than fine with it all. Even better, you couldn’t believe this meant that Daryl was about to come inside you. Something in you knew it was about to happen. It was the way he placed his elbows by your head and started cursing and ramming into you harder and even whimpered in your ear and gave you these little puppy kisses there before getting back to it. You were surprised by how noisy he was but you didn’t dare say a word other than panting and whining back into him so he’d continue, even in moments when it felt too much and too hard. He was forgetting all his doubts and that was the goal right now. You lock your legs around his hips and tell him, “You feel amazing inside me. My handsome man,” and that does it, “Oh, fuck,” he says as he releases every last drop of himself inside you.

Now, as he slows down, he looks at you, thumb on your bottom lip and chin as he tries his best to keep rolling his hips on you as he comes down from his high, but you ask, “Will you kiss me down there, Daryl? I’ve always wanted that.”

“You don’t want me to make you come?”

“I think it’ll happen if you do it like that. I just want to know what it feels like.”

He stops for a moment deciding if this means he’s failed or not, but he simply says, “Okay,” all kindly and nodding like it was your idea even though it was because this means another one of his dreams were coming true.

Instantly, he’s licking you, feeling more assured of what he could do— this was one of his most vivid fantasies so even though he doesn’t know for sure, he thinks he’s got.

“Oh, oh my god,” his tongue is bringing up wetness to your clit and sucking on it, “that’s good.” He starts licking your clit, going fast, “Daryl, that’s so good.”

He looks up at you, dazed already, “Yeah?”

“Oh, yes.” You fix his hair and he loves the feeling. Truly, he was going a little too fast actually, going up and down and this way and that way too much, but the sounds his mouth and your pussy were making together were too glorious. You let him go, you let him be proud, and either way, you’re whining and moaning because of it. He’s perfectly imperfect and he doesn’t even know it. But you’re too in love with the feeling of him to explain what that means right now so all you say is what he told you about yourself in the church, “I think you’re just perfect.”

To that, he stops again and he looks up at you, smiling. It’s one of those rare ones he seldom does, teeth and all, and your slick coating his lips all the while. His eyes are shining, and he gives you the smallest, sweetest, most innocent kiss to the most obscene place on your body— your clit.

At this point all your sounds have been short, quiet, filled with whines but to this, you moan at the sight, full and loud. It’s involuntary. It’s pornographic. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his life. His cock stirs, springing up again as he goes back to giving you your first and forever the most slobberiest head of your life.

After a while he beckons you from below, “Hey, angel,” he calls.

“Mm,” you respond lightly. You’re nearly blissed out. He’s going to make you come.

“I think those girls were right.”

Your eyes become so cute yet so sad— you just want him on you again. “What do you mean?”

“You are sweet. Sweetest thing I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Oh,” you whisper, moaning again as he goes back to licking your clit. “Oh. Fuck.”

He starts licking and kissing your puffy lips, making wet sounds with his tongue, slurping little bits of you where he can. He loves how slick and noisy your pretty pussy is. Your clit throbs and he hums into it all dark and grumbled and husky going, “Mmmmmm.”

You tell him, “God, it’s so good, Daryl.” To which he responds, referring to a different it, “And it’s mine.”

Oh, so he’s cocky now? Well, that’s new for him. You lay back at the thought, at the feeling, reveling in delight.

Here he is, finally.

[eatfishies]

your touch sets me ablaze | 🔞

summary: Rafayel is determined to make all your worries go away.

or

Rafayel giving his "Miss Bodyguard" the time of her life.

word count: 3.5k words tags: NSFW, rafayel x reader (afab), porn without plot, oral sex (cunnilingus), clit play, swearing, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, exhibitionism, overstimulation, public sex (or semi..? idk), pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: rafa fingers owo .. that’s it . i jus have an obsession w his pretty fingers ok . hehe hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

The long-awaited day of Rafayel’s exhibition is finally here. She smoothed out her dress, ensuring that there is no speck of dust or any creases. The dress hugged her curves like second skin, a dark blue shade that matches the ocean — she heard it faintly as she fixed herself on the mirror. The tidal waves swished around with fluidity as the birds chirped merrily, giving her a sense of peace despite the gnawing anxiety bubbling up inside her. She sighed, biting her lip as she mulled over her thoughts when the door opened, revealing Rafayel. 

Dressed in a white buttoned shirt, paired with a dark blue suit jacket and black tailored slacks. He looked mesmerizing as he always does whenever she sees him. Many people claim that Rafayel’s paintings are beautiful, each brushstroke has its own story and together, mixed with the soft colors is enough to draw someone in. It was easy to get lost in his artworks hence why his buyers are eager to get their hands on the latest pieces of his art. Every art dealer was entranced by the beauty of it. One could say, if you gaze at his painting, the sight of it could linger in your mind even as you slumber, dancing around and luring you into the depths of the ocean.

He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively, “Hey cutie, looking good there.” He walked towards her, placing his hands on her hips, “Why the long face…? It’s my exhibition, not yours.” She knows he was just teasing, trying to quell her dwelling thoughts but she can only give him a faint smile.

“I know that… I just…” She sighed, unsure of how to properly form her sentence. Her mind is constantly racing, overlapping each fleeting thought. “I’ve just been… overthinking about all sorts of things, I suppose. Maybe it’s just the stress of everything…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the side.

The Lemurian hummed, studying his lover’s face with deep concentration, “Well, we still have some time left to kill. Do you wanna do something to take your mind off things?” His hands cupped her face gently, making her stare at his handsome face. 

“Uh… I’m not sure.” She responded, still preoccupied with her troubles. 

Rafayel’s hands fall to the side before grabbing her wrist and leading her out of the bedroom and into the center of the studio. He gently pushed her down to the couch, “Stay here.” He said before stalking off to grab something from the desk. She could only watch with curiosity, wondering what Rafayel had planned to distract her. 

When he came back, he was holding a box of Pile It Up. She couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a surge of competitive spirit bubbling inside her. “Oh, you’re so on!” She grinned at him.

And yet, after a few minutes of playing, she felt the same thoughts resurfacing. Rafayel didn’t need to be told twice to know that his partner is deep in her worries, he could see the frown etched on her features or the way she subtly tapped her fingers repeatedly against the block. 

He sighed, standing up and taking a seat next to her, “I hate seeing you like this.” He paused, searching her face before caressing her cheek tenderly, “We don’t need to talk about it but I wished I could take all your troubles away. It makes me sad to see you look so blue.” 

A small hint of guilt crept up, she forced herself to hold Rafayel’s gaze. “I’ll be fine, really. Just… stress, the usual.” She spoke tiredly, relishing the feeling of his hand on her cheek. 

Suddenly, an idea popped up inside the painter’s head. “Then… let me put your mind at ease, yeah?” But before she could inquire, the Lemurian pulled her into a soft kiss, effectively drowning out any single thought she had previously. Their lips moved languidly in a passionate yet loving kiss. His hands slid down to feel her curves, swallowing her needy whimpers as his fingers hiked the hem of the dress up, exposing more of her skin. 

He gently laid her down and pulled away, hovering above her, admiring the way her lips are now swollen and glistened with his saliva. No doubt that the lipstick has smeared onto his mouth as well but he couldn’t care less, slowly inching closer to her most intimate place. She bit her lip, growing impatient at his deliberate and sensual movements but the words of protest died in her throat when Rafayel finally touched her clit, feeling the wet patch growing as he kept stroking her.

“You’re already so wet for me… you sure are eager, aren’t you?” He smirked as she gripped his arms and bucked her hips. “Come on, let me hear your pretty sounds, cutie.” He purred, effortlessly pulling her panties to the side and rubbing her slick folds. A string of moans and whimpers fell from her lips as Rafayel continued to touch her, staring intently as her expressions contorted to one of pleasure. The worry lines on her face, the frown and the anxiousness emitting off of her earlier are all gone, replaced by fervent lust and desire. 

With a swift motion, Rafayel plunged two fingers deep inside her wet pussy. Her velvet walls clamping down tightly as he curled his digits, “Ha…! F- fuck! Raf…” She moaned out, it was the sound that he could never get tired of hearing. Her body writhed beneath her lover’s skilful ministrations. 

“That’s it… keep feeling good around my fingers. You’re doing so well for me, baby.” He uttered sultry and low, pressing kisses on her neck before biting onto the flesh. He knew that once she was clear-headed, she would scold him for leaving a mark, especially when they were both due to attend his exhibition later. But Rafayel couldn’t care less, he was addicted to her scent, her taste, her sounds and everything about her makes him want to lose himself completely, surrendering himself to the woman he holds dear to. 

The heat in her stomach coiled, the tell-tale signs of her climax approaching her as Rafayel fingers her faster and deeper, noticing the pitch of her moans getting louder. Her wet cunt squelched obscenely around his long digits as he worked to bring her close to her release. He licked her earlobe and nipped at it, “Be a good girl and come all over my fingers. Come on, you can do it, can’t you?” 

Spurred by Rafayel’s encouragement, she squeezed her eyes shut as her pussy clenched tightly around his plunging fingers. “I’m… I’m close! I’m gonna come!” She cried out, her cunt clamping down on his digits as she came hard, pussy juice gushing out and all over his hand and wrist. 

“Good girl. You did so great, my little conch.” He pulled his soaked fingers out and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Rafayel felt a swell of pride at seeing the state of his lover like this, she’s no longer concerned with troubling thoughts or anxieties. Only a look of pure bliss. 

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean, savoring the taste of her. “You taste divine, my love.” A blush spread through her cheeks as she stared at the sight of Rafayel delightfully tasting her essence. 

“But… I’m not done yet. Not even close.” His voice drops an octave lower as he spread her legs wide and tugged her damp panties off, tossing them on the floor. Her cunt fluttered around nothing, dripping with slick from her orgasm earlier. “I can’t wait to devour you.” And with that, he leaned in and lapped her pussy tentatively, keeping his gaze fixed on her face as her fingers tangled in his purple hair, gripping it. 

Debauched cries and moans bounced off the walls along with the erotic sounds of Rafayel eating her cunt out with vigor, like a man starved. “F- feels so good!” She whimpered as the Lemurian held her thighs, spreading them wider, giving him more access to her sopping core. 

Unable to resist, Rafayel delved in deeper, sealing his lips around her clit and suckling the sensitive nub. He flicked his tongue faster, determined to bring his dear bodyguard to her peak once more. The needy sounds spilling from her lips were like music to his ears, urging him on, to give her the pleasure that she so desperately sought. 

“D- don’t stop, Raf! Please!” Her hips bucked wantonly as she ground her slick cunt against his mouth. Rafayel smirked in response, letting her tug on his hair fiercely as he thrust his tongue deep inside her clutching heat, fucking her with his mouth, feeling incredibly turned on and eager to watch her fall apart beneath him. 

He could feel her juices flooding his mouth, could taste her arousal coating his tongue. Rafayel could go on for days burying his head in between her legs, couldn’t ever get enough of her sweet essence. “Come for me. Come on my tongue like the good girl that you are.” He spurred, the words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. 

The all-too familiar sensation coursed through her body as she moaned out, “I’m gonna come! Raf, I’m gonna come!” At that, Rafayel vigorously sucked hard on her clit, feeling her walls starting to flutter and clench around his plunging tongue. He could feel the heat of her core climbing, threatening to spill once more. The Lemurian easily slipped in two fingers, knuckle-deep into her dripping cunt. He pumped them in and out, curling them just so to hit that spot that made his lover writhe in utter bliss. 

It was too much, the stimulation was overbearing as her body tensed, her thighs clamped around his head as she teetered on the brink. Rafayel gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place as he ate them out with wild, desperate abandon. 

“Rafayel!” She cried out, arching off of the couch as her orgasm crashed over her for the second time. The painter moaned as he felt the flood of arousal coating his tongue and chin, lapping it up greedily as she shuddered and quaked beneath him. He could feel the way her walls gripped his fingers, sucking in and reluctant to let go, milking his hand for all it was worth. 

“P- please… too much…” She whined, riding out the intense wave of her climax. Rafayel gave her dripping wet pussy one last lick before pulling back slightly to catch his breath. “I could just drown in your taste for the rest of my life.” He spoke breathlessly, slowly withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean, just like he did earlier.  

Just as Rafayel was about to lean down and kiss her, the unmistakable sound of his ringtone snapped both of their attention. Rafayel stared down at her, a look of surprise on his face, “Let me get it.” He stood up and walked over to the desk, grabbing his phone. Frowning, he reads the message and pockets it away, looking back at her with a sigh. “It’s Thomas. Says we need to be at the exhibition in 20 minutes.” 

A small part of her felt disappointed at the fact that they would need to go out soon but she wasn’t just the only one whos’ feeling it. Rafayel gazed at her with a slight pout, he had hoped to fuck her silly before they were called to the gallery. But alas, duties calls and if they stalled any longer, Thomas would suspect something was up, even though Rafayel is known for arriving late to his exhibitions or not even appearing at all. 

“Should we just ditch this and not go?” He said exasperatedly, crossing his arms in annoyance. She smiled softly at him, sitting up straight and pulling her dress down, still panty-less underneath. She could feel her own slick running down her inner thighs, a faint blush spread through her cheeks as she briefly recalled the way Rafayel had brought her to climax twice. 

However, her gaze lowered to the sight of Rafayel’s painfully hard and obvious bulge, straining against his pants. Biting her lips, she quickly squashed down any lewd thoughts, refraining from losing her focus by daydreaming about sinking her tight wet cavern onto Rafayel’s thick cock. No, she needs to get it together and actually drag her Lemurian lover to the gallery, lest they face the wrath of Thomas. 

With a reluctant smile, she stood up and bent down to pick up her panties, slipping them on. “I guess it’s time to go. Come on, you pouty baby.” She pinched his cheek, earning a glare from her lover but it lacked no malice, instead filled with tenderness and love. Rafayel sighed dramatically, intertwining their fingers together, “Fine, fiiiiinee.” 

As they began to walk towards the front door, she paused, “Ah wait, I need to grab something.” But Rafayel wouldn’t budge, clasping her hand tightly as he stared ahead. He leaned in and whispered hotly in her ears, “Just keep your panties on. Don’t think this is over just because we’re going somewhere.” Heat rises up to her cheeks at the suggestive implication, was Rafayel planning something? It was a risky move, she knew she should go and grab the short pants to wear beneath her dress but Rafayel only gripped his hold on her, sensing the slight confusion. “Trust me, cutie. I know a way to make the exhibition waaaay more entertaining.” 

Alas, she gave in and nodded, “No funny stuff, alright!” She warned but Rafayel only smiled cheekily at her in response. “I’ll be a good boy and behave, dontcha’ worry, my darling.” He gave her a wink, a silent promise to be on his best behavior, yet there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.

‧───────────────‧

The gallery was filled and buzzing with prestigious art dealers and other VIP guests, mingling around and admiring the exquisite artworks that were displayed on the walls. She stood to the side, a glass of champagne in her hand as she glanced at Rafayel who is, no doubt, forced to converse with the guests by Thomas. She hummed, taking in the scene before her, it was clear that Rafayel has always been popular but to witness it entirely was a different feeling. It warms her heart knowing that Rafayel is loved and cherished by many people here – a respected artist in his own field, earning awe-struck stares and quiet excited cheers. 

She took a sip of her drink, enjoying her solitude when Rafayel sauntered over to her. “How is my princess doing?” He smirked, standing next to her, his gaze briefly flickering down to the hem of her dress. She could tell a thing or two about what he’s thinking, all of the thoughts are most likely inappropriate. “I’m doing okay.” She replied casually, “Shouldn’t you be talking to your esteemed guests? Wouldn’t want Thomas to come hurling complaints again, hm?” 

At the mention of Thomas’s complaints, Rafayel grimaced and looked away, “Puh-lease, I’m his boss here, not him. He can’t control me, no matter how much he wants to.” His hand found their way on her hips, pulling her close. “Besides, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere private, yeah?” Before she could voice out her objections, Rafayel immediately dragged her to the quieter, lonely 

 side of the gallery. There were no artworks framed on the walls nor are there any people here to disturb the couple. “Raf honey… are you sure we're allowed here? Isn’t this section of the gallery closed off?” Her voice tinged with uncertainty and maybe a little bit of unease at the blank and empty part of the gallery. 

“It’s fine, no one ever comes home.” He reassured her, letting go of his hand and cupping her face, “Now, it’s just the two of us here.” Rafayel captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his pent-up desire from before into it. She could taste the remnants of her pussy juice, rendering her completely into a puddle of mess as Rafayel’s fingers trailed down and slipped underneath her dress with ease. She whimpered against his lips as Rafayel rubbed her clit through her damp panties, soaked from the pleasure she received back in the comfort of his home. 

“R- raf… ah! Mhmm… we- we can’t” She murmured helplessly as Rafayel began to nip at her neck, licking the hickey he left there. It had bloomed beautifully, his mark on hers – a sign to everyone that she was his. Only his. 

Of course, she hadn’t been a fool, she did try to cover up the hickey before they stepped into the exhibition but Rafayel wouldn’t stop pestering her and telling her to just leave it be. In the end, she caved in and proudly showed off the mark, albeit with much reluctance and embarrassment. Rafayel rasped, “Need you… need you here, right now.” 

Swiftly, Rafayel tugged her panties aside and unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He pressed her against the wall, her back facing him, “N- now?!” She sputtered but Rafayel was already stroking his aching shaft on her sopping wet mound. 

He lined himself up, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. Rafayel wanted nothing more than to slam inside, to consume her entirely, his body blazing with need but he knew she was still sensitive from the overstimulation. “Keep quiet, okay?” He whispered hotly before thrusting deep inside her slick walls, burying himself to the hilt, feeling it tighten. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He gripped her hips, staring intently at his lover, biting her lips to stifle the moans and cries of pleasure. Without wasting any time, Rafayel set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucked into her dripping cunt with deep, powerful strokes. Anyone could walk in on them, going at it like rabbits in heat but all caution and care was thrown out of the window. Rafayel could only feel her wet, clasping heat, determined to bring her to the edge and make her feel good. There was no denying the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, if a guard were to catch them, they would no doubt be in trouble.

Then again, the risk is what makes it exciting. Rafayel groaned softly, nuzzling into her neck as she held back her cries of ecstasy, the familiar coppery tang of her blood sinking into her tongue from biting her lips too hard. Rafayel’s hands slid up to cup and knead her breasts through her dress as he pounded into her. The sensation was too much, her brain was all mushy as her pussy fluttered around him, sucking him in deeper, wanting more. 

Her hands pathetically scrambled to hold onto the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as she desperately tries to not let a single sound fall off of her lips. Rafayel’s voice was low, “You're clenching me so tightly baby. Ha… what a dirty girl, taking my cock like this out in the open. You love this, don’t you?” 

A whimper escaped from her throat as Rafayel slammed his hips forward fast and deep into her dripping, clinging heat. He noticed the way her breath quickened, her face etched in a fucked-out expression, losing herself to the overwhelming pleasure. Her pussy clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering wildly as he drove her closer to the edge. 

Rafayel withdrew from fondling her breasts and gripped her face, turning her towards him as his lips met hers in a messy, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth as he fucked her towards her release. “Come for me, you can do it. Come one more time for me on my cock.” He murmured against her lips, feeling his orgasm nearing.

He felt her body stiffened, coming undone as he drowned out all her cries with a wet, sensual kiss. Rafayel grunted, his hips stuttering and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her soaked cunt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he pumped her full with his seed. Rafayel pulled away and panted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a sheen of sweat trickling down from their coupling. He gazed at her with adoring eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before he reluctantly pulled out of her cum-filled cunt. Rafayel tugged the panties to the center of her clit, covering her as she caught her breath. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel scooped her into his arms around her, letting her rest her head against his chest. Her eyes shut closed, her mind dancing around cloud nine from the intensity of it all.  

“Let’s go home, my love.” He said softly as he made his way towards the exit, ignoring the curious stares and ogles from the people in the exhibition. When Thomas tried to question him, Rafayel dismissed him and continued to walk to his car, gently putting her down onto the passenger seat.

Once they were home, Rafayel put on a bath and scrubbed her clean with much affection. Afterwards, he prepared dinner and cuddled her, staring down at her peaceful expression as she slumber. 

“I love you, my treasure.” He spoke quietly, kissing her forehead before falling asleep with his lover in his arms. 

[twddixonn]

Good Boy

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

Warnings/Tags: not proof read!!!, sfw, some swears, shane.

this is my first fic on this account, my first time attempting to write a fic in 4-ish years and my first time trying to write a twd fic. honestly it’s probably not great but I hope it’s at least somewhat decent. :-)

(also written and posted mobile so not sure how it will appear on browser, hopefully not too terrible!)

“Leave me the hell alone.�� You harshly whispered, turning on your heels and storming away from the scene in front of you.

Your best friend reuniting with his wife and son. Alive. Not dead. This whole time he had you believing that Rick was dead and gone, never coming back. Yet your eyes were seeing a whole different story to the one Shane painted out for you a couple months prior.

Shane followed pursuit, ignoring the former comment you had made and put a firm hold on your wrist before pulling you behind Dales RV to conceal you from the others.

“Hey, hey . I swear to you Y/N, he was dead when I left that hospital room. He wasn’t breathing. Th- the monitors, they all stopped. Everything went dead. He was dead.” Shane iterated, time and time again.

You feel the anger bubbling up inside you, just like all those other times when Shane had told you Rick was dead and to get it through your head he isn’t coming back. Your hands curled into fists, your nails stabbing into your palm leaving crescent shaped indents.

“Except he wasn’t. Is this why you didn’t want me to go there? Didn’t want Lori to go there? Because you knew if you swooped in and saved her and Carl when Rick couldn’t that what- she’d become your damsel in distress? Is this why? Just so you could get your leg over and fuck your partners wife and become Carls daddy? You’re pathetic Shane.” At this point your head was swarming with thoughts and ideas of what you wanted to do to Shane but better judgement got the best of you.

You began to walk off when a hand reached for you again, this time rougher. Shane pushed you against the RV, his brows furrowed and sweat dripping off his temples- smoke nearly coming out of his ears at this point.

“I don’t know what you think you know but you’re wrong either way. I think you’re forgetting that I didn’t just save Lori and Carl, I saved your sorry ass too. I didn’t have to. That was on me Y/N, That was on me. An’ I ain’t ever looked at Lori like that before, she was Ricks wife and he was my best friend. It happened because I thought he was dead.” He all but growled at you in a hushed whisper.

You remained quiet and stoic for a few moments, registering your thoughts before smirking slightly and speaking again. Pushing Shane’s hand off of you, you began to walk away but not before turning and giving one last snide remark, “I think I know right. And, by the way.. really interesting use of the past tense in those last few sentences there.”

Dickhead.

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“I’ve been here for quite a few hours now and yet, still no hello?” You looked beside you to see Rick crouched with a smile on his face, placing an arm around your shoulder which you leaned into graciously.

“Sorry Grimes.. just- a lot to take in y’no.” You said.

“Na’ I get it. Shane told me what happened.” Rick remarked whilst kissing his teeth and shaking his head.

“He did? Really? What did he say?.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement, Shane had really gone out of his way to-

“Yeah.” He breathed out, “Told me how it started, he tried to get me from the hospital but I wasn’t breathing and he thought I was dead. How he saved you and Lori n’ Carl and got you all here.”

“He told you that huh.” You should have known.

Rick started to stand back up, giving you a pat on the back and a kiss to the forehead first “I’m gonna go get some shut eye, you need too aswell. Talk more in the morning Y/N.” Rick turned to walk back towards camp, not before turning and speaking again, “Y/N.. go nice on Shane though ok? He’s a good guy, you just gotta give him a chance.”

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You wake up the next day to the sound of what you thought was - for once - peace and quiet. Until you hear the shouts outside and a woman screaming stop.

Debating between laying back down and just going back to sleep or getting up and out of your tent to see what was going on, you went with the better judgement and begrudgingly dragged yourself to get changed and step outside.

Shielding your eyes from the rays of light beaming off the Atlanta sun with a sigh escaping your lips at the slight breeze that hit your clammy skin.

“You’d best let me go!”- what the fuck was happening this time?

Walking closer you take sight of Shane with his arms wrapped around Daryl’s neck. A fuckin’ cop getting someone in a choke hold the minute they raise their voice? New worlds maybe not as different from before.

“I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic, you think we can manage that?” Rick spoke calmly whilst he crouched in front of Daryl, his chest heaving with rocky breaths as Shane’s tight grip didn’t let up just yet.

“You think we can manage that?” Rick repeated.

You zoned out at this point, eyes boring into the side of Shane’s skull with anger.

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“I’m coming.” You didn’t hesitate to jump at the opportunity to get away from camp for a while. The rising tension taking over was beginning to grate at you.

“That’s five”

Shane piped up “It’s not just five, you’re putting every single one of us at risk.” “Just know that Rick”

“Come on man you saw that walker. It was here.

It was in camp.

They’re moving out of the cities.

They come back, we need every able body we’ve got.

We need em here, we need em to protect camp.”

Staying focused when Shane’s voice is droning on for what seems like eternity is quite the mission lately. Listening to him is beginning to seem like nails on a chalkboard.

“-Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in.”

Hearing Loris voice made you gain attention again.

“If someone left Rick behind-“ you began to join the conversation, maybe with the words aimed at Shane slightly. He clearly picked up on it as his eyes shot to you, if looks could only kill, you’d be six feet under.

“Would you want them to go back for him? Or would you let him stay handcuffed to a roof to die slowly?” Your eyes landing on Lori.

“That’s different. Rick.. he.. he isn’t like Merle. He wouldn’t get himself into that position in the first place.” The stern mom tone coming out as Lori tried to keep her composure and not snap in front of Carl.

“You think Merle purposely got himself into that position? He’s an asshole yeah, and he may have deserved it. But he didn’t expect to be handcuffed and then left behind. Not knowing if anyone was going to go back for him. It may have been an accident. But he shouldn’t have to sit there wondering if he’s just going to die from thirst and hunger or if he’s going to get torn to pieces at the hands of walkers. He may not be your family, but he’s someone’s family. You have your husband, your son. You have Shane. Merle is all Daryl has.” You’re not sure if you were even breathing during that, your chest rising up and down at a rapid speed. You felt rage. How could anyone justify this bullshit?

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Sitting in the back of the van was a bit more awkward than you anticipated. Glenn and Rick up front. You, Daryl and T-dog in the back. Maybe the tension in the back of this van was worse than the tension at camp?

You looked up smiling at T-dog as he avoided Daryl’s intense stare, before he got up and headed to the front to talk to Glenn and Rick.

Daryl kept shooting you glances whenever he thought you couldn’t see, a grunt leaving his mouth every so often as if he was about to talk but decided against it.

Just as you looked up at him, he was already staring with his open yet no words seemed to come so he just scoffed and averted his eyes anywhere but at you.

You began to grow a bit frustrated at him. “What?”

“Nothin’” he all but murmured.

“Stop grunting and scoffing at me like a dog who didn’t get enough treats, be a good boy and just say whatever it is you’ve been wanting to say for the last 15 minutes.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at yourself.

You could have sworn you saw a light tinge of pink cross his cheeks before his head dropped down facing his lap.

His mouth opened and closed, before opening once again “Why’d ya stick up for me.. for Merle back at tha’ camp?”

Oh. That’s what this was about? The intense looks he gave you before this made you think it was about anything but this.

“What do you mean?” You had to admit you were somewhat confused at this.

“Ya said it y’self, Merle, he’s an asshole. So why’d ya go out of ya way to defend him? Why didn’t ya just side with the others and leave him?” Head dropping once again as his thumb found its way to his lips as he gnawed on the nail.

Silence.

You were stuck for words. “He is an asshole. Maybe one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever known. But he’s your brother, maybe not the greatest one but still your brother no matter what. He’s all you have left. The others may not understand, but I do.” Taking a deep breath in and thinking about your next words carefully, “I honestly couldn’t give a shit about him. Doesn’t mean I want him to suffer up there on that roof. No one deserves it. Well I mean maybe some people y’no? Really bad people. And maybe Shane. Merle, he’s not necessarily one of those really bad people. He makes mistakes, says things he definitely shouldn’t and has actions that match, but don’t we all in one way or another?”

Daryl was slightly overwhelmed. Not expecting you to be so honest and caring? Somewhat caring anyway. He didn’t know what to say.

You hummed and tapped your fingers against your legs, “Nothing to say?”

“I dunno what you want me to say.”

A grin made its way to your face.

“How about a thanks?”

“Thanks.” He grumbled trying not to scoff afterwards to avoid being called a dog again.

The van began to come to a stop, Glenn saying something about walking from here.

You stood up whilst stretching your arms above your head.

“That’ll do. Good boy.”

You smirked at him before opening the back of the van and climbing out. Leaving a blushing Daryl in the back trying to hide his face as he groaned standing up.

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authors note: it’s not the greatest, I am very aware. but I really wanna get back into writing in general and I thought starting with twd would be the best place to start as it’s one of my comfort shows. there’s not much happening, it’s very heavily based on s1 e3 obviously but it’s mostly just to try and get back in the swing of things! if you have an constructive feedback or any comments you’d like to make, please feel free as it will be much appreciated :-) I’m hoping to improve my writing skills more and more. It will probably take a while (I’ve literally had the first half of this thing in my notes app since June 2024) but I hope to get to the point of making some good fics! thank you for reading if you managed to make it this far!:)

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Love like a Fairytale ˚₊‧ა❤︎

JJ Maybank x Fem!Virgin!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, heavy smut, minimal cursing, fluff, reader is a virgin, first time sex, fingering, size kink, corruption kink, friends to lovers, cum licking, way too many pet names

Word Count: 3.7k

Plot: JJ Maybank is your best friend. You find it hard to believe he could be anything more. But when you both confess love to each other, your world takes a romance-story like turn. You have no previous skill in dating, but JJ is more than willing to guide you along.

A/n: I think I went into a fever dream while writing this. Anyway, enjoy this soft!JJ moment! (P.S. Reader loves reading in this, so if you don’t pretend it’s your favorite video game or smth)

The sun dipped slowly behind the horizon. The trees in your yard shone with the orange-tinted light. Your legs swung back and forth as you sat on the hanging bench on your front porch, reading a book. A glass of lemonade, almost empty, sat by your feet on the wood floorboards. You were wearing a yellow checker-patterned dress that was tied with a white bow in the back.

You heard footsteps on the front walk and looked up. It was your best friend, JJ Maybank. Strands of his blonde hair, slightly tinted from the sun, hung into his eyes.

You waved to him and set the book down in your lap, smiling. He waved back and stepped onto the porch, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

“What’s up?” He greeted you, his familiar voice a welcome sound in your ears.

You shrugged. “Just reading. What are you doing here?”

“I was bored.” He sat down on the bench next to you, resulting in you swinging back and forth a few times.

His eyes trailed over your dress quickly. “You look nice.” Just like JJ to compliment you. He was always nice to you.

“Thank you,” you replied. You had met JJ and his friend group of Pogues at school back in elementary, and you had hit it off from there. You can’t remember a summer you hadn’t spent with him going swimming and laughing at his bad jokes.

“The sunset is nice, isn’t it?” JJ looked out over the houses, where you could just make out the blue shimmer of the ocean.

Kind of reminded you of JJ’s eyes, which had just moved to look down at you.

“It is.” You looked away after a moment and back at your book, still open on your lap. “Would you like to hear about the book I’m reading?”

“Sure, why not.” This was another thing you had always liked about JJ. He always acted interested in the things you did, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy them himself, such as reading. No matter what it was, he still gave you his attention.

Reading was an activity you loved. It took you away to faraway places, where dragons, fairies, and witches were real. It had always been a comfort since your mom told you fairytales when you were younger.

You turned the cover over so he could see the front. “Okay, so…” You began telling him about the book, diving into the plot, the characters, the storytelling. JJ watched you intently the entire time, nodding here and there and asking questions. Another person might have gotten tired of hearing you chat on and on, but with JJ he would pay attention to you for hours. You always felt comfortable with him, like all of your worries and self-consciousness had drifted away.

When you finished your explanation, JJ grinned at you. “Thanks for telling me about this book. You really know how to make someone feel part of a tale.”

You felt yourself blush slightly. “No problem. You probably have to go, don’t you?” 

JJ nodded, his gaze lingering for a few seconds longer. “I should get going then. See you tomorrow.” He got up off of the bench and left down the street. You watched him go until he was too far away to see. His face was still fresh in the front of your mind.

You saw JJ again the next day, reading the same book on the porch in the heat of the afternoon.

He smiled at you as he joined you in your favorite sitting place. “Hey there. Care to catch me up on that great book you’re working on?”

“Of course.” Your cheeks flushed a little as you turned to the book in your hands. You started describing the new chapter to him and the events that had unfolded since you left off with him yesterday.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur with JJ while he watched and listened calmly. By the time you stopped talking, the sun had already begun to set.

JJ checked his watch then looked back at you apologetically. “I’ve got to head home right about now. I’ll see you around, ‘aight?”

You nodded. “See ya.” There was something warm simmering in his eyes as they met yours. It matched the feeling in your chest. Before you could decipher what it was, he tore away from your gaze and walked away from you down the concrete path.

You couldn’t speak. Something about him left you speechless and pondering long after you spent time alone together.

You sipped your soda at a table in the local fast-food restaurant with your friend, Kiara. You hands were folded underneath your chin.

Kiara munched on a cardboard container of fries. “So I heard JJ’s been coming over recently. What’s that all about?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I’ve been telling him about the books I’ve been reading.”

“Really? Because he sure visits an awful lot. And you’re the only one he seems to want to talk to nowadays.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

“Oh, c’mon, just admit you like him already. It’s pretty obvious you guys are a thing.” Kiara teased.

Your head snapped up to look at her, shocked. “I— no, we’re just friends, I promise. That’s all,” you said firmly.

She sighed and shook her head. “Whatever you say.”

There was an uneasy emotion in your gut. You and JJ had always been best friends, nothing more. You would admit, over the years of evenings spent in each others presence, you had grown closer. But you didn’t have much experience with relationships in the first place. How would you know if he liked you?

Kiara’s words rang in your head as you lay in bed that night. What if she was right after all, and the countless times you saw that look in JJ’s eyes, tender and longing, and he brought over your favorite candies and the new novel by your favorite author when you were sick, had all meant he had fallen for you?

Or, a voice in your head said, you were delusional. Which was likely. Why would someone like JJ like you? You weren’t pretty enough. You weren’t smart enough. You weren’t good enough for anyone. But what if… what if you were good enough for him? 

Your heart wanted you to believe. But you couldn’t. Not until you knew for sure.

It was beach day for the Pogues. The sun was shining and most of your friends were catching the waves, surfing while shouting “Woo!” and laughing whenever someone wiped out.

Not you and JJ though. You were sitting on a beach towel facing the ocean, the seagulls squawking and trying to get into the sandwiches in your bag. You shooed them away, purposely scooting further away from JJ as you did so. You hadn’t been talking to him for the most part. You were afraid. Afraid to ask him about his feelings for you. It was embarrassing. And you couldn’t do it.

JJ noticed your silence. “What’s wrong? You’ve been less talkative than I’m used to you being, princess.” The way the nickname slid so easily off his tongue made your heart stutter in your chest.

Your tongue tied in your mouth. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Your courage had left you wholeheartedly. Could it be because… you were scared what his reaction would be?

You forced yourself to look at him. His blue eyes, always so bright, reflected your own. The concern that had fallen over his expression gave you the push you needed. “Can… can I ask you a question, JJ?”

“Whatever you need, cupcake.” There. Another nickname. Your breath felt like it had been sucked out of your lungs. You mustered up all you had as your fingers dug into the coarse sand.

“Do you like me?” You blurted out. JJ looked taken aback. He was at a loss for words. Then, slowly, he softened.

“Y/n, I… I have for the longest time. Ever since that day, when we were at that party, and you were in that dress, with the light from the disco ball shining in your hair, I wanted so badly to be with you. Since I first saw you, actually. More than… more than anything.” His voice wavered. There were so many emotions spilling out of him at the same time. You were speechless. His eyes held nothing but genuine love and gentleness towards you.

Your shoulders felt weak. You sat frozen an inch from JJ’s face, feeling like your spirit was drifting away like a bird. As his words sunk in you came to.

“JJ, I— I think I like you too.” There was hesitation in your voice, but you were certain of the meaning in your words. You didn’t know how your relationship with JJ would change, or what would happen, but now you knew you were meant to be with him. Maybe you always were.

JJ’s arms wrapped around you, and you flung yourself into him, letting the feel of his heartbeat take you away. The smell of him, warm and like the sea breeze, comforted you. 

Just then Pope walked up the shore. “Uh, did I miss something?” He asked in confusion at the two of you embracing. Kiara walked up behind him.

“They do this all the time, trust me,” she assured Pope then winked at you. You blushed redder than you had in your life. She knew. Then again, you reasoned as JJ’s hand brushed against yours, you didn’t care too much.

It was like your life had taken a turn and became one of the romance stories you engulfed yourself in. Except it was real. You were Cinderella and JJ Maybank was Prince Charming. Your Prince Charming. Your head was always in the clouds now, dreaming about those sea-blue eyes and the affirmations he had spoken to you that you hardly believed even now. 

This was love? If so, you never wanted to fall out of it.

Your phone rang in the other room, taking your attention from your thoughts. You went into the dining room where it was sitting in the middle of the table. You picked it up and saw it was JJ. Excited, you hit the answer button and held the receiver to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, sunbeam.” JJ’s voice came from the other end. Your heart picked up its speed.

“Hi, Jay.”

“Are you home right now? I was wondering if I could, you know, come over.”

“Yes, I’m home. Why do you want to come over?” You asked shyly.

“I want to see you. Can I come right now?”

“Yeah.” What would the harm be? You wanted to see him too.

“Awesome. Your parents aren’t home, are they?”

“No, not right now. Why?” You questioned.

“Oh, no reason. Just wondering. See ya soon.” There was no way JJ was going to tell you the real reason he wanted to make sure you were alone. Not when he wasn’t even there with you yet.

After you hung up, you went into your bedroom to look in your mirror. Did you look good enough? You smoothed down your hair and adjusted your shirt, which was a pale pink today. You had put on a bit of makeup earlier when you had woken up, and you checked to make sure nothing was smudged. 

When you were satisfied with your appearance, you sat down on a couch in the living room to wait for JJ. Nervously, you played with your thumbs and watched out the window continuously.

When you finally saw JJ coming up the driveway, you stood up and opened the door for him happily. He beamed at you as he entered your living room. “Good to see you, baby.” 

You felt yourself turning pink again. But you beamed back. Then you gasped as he picked you up and swung you into his arms, where you giggled in your bridal-style position. He leaned down and pecked you on the lips. A sigh left your mouth without meaning to. JJ laughed and put you down on the couch.

“So what do you have planned for us?” He asked casually.

You hadn’t thought about that, you realized. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“I’ve got a couple ideas,” he murmured lowly as he pulled you into him suddenly and pressed his lips to yours once more. You leaned back on the couch as euphoric sensations ran up and down your body. Now he was on top of you, kissing you again and again and muttering “I love your lips so much” during short breaths of air.

You had never experienced something like this before. Even a week ago you never would have guessed you would end up here, JJ kissing you feverishly and making you feel like the only girl in the world.

JJ pulled away, making you whine in protest. You found yourself wanting more.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I… I know we just started dating and all that, but I was wondering if… you wanted to try something new?” There was a flicker of apprehension in his gaze and something else that you couldn’t quite read. 

“Something new?” You asked, wide-eyed gaze searching and curious.

JJ scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Have you… had sex with someone before?”

Sex? It was a foreign concept to you. You hadn’t been to many parties, and the only boys you knew well were Pope, John B, and of course JJ. An idea as broad and unknown to you as sex was one you’d never considered. The thought rarely even crossed your innocent mind.

“What?” You were confused.

JJ looked guilty. “Shit, never mind. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I completely understand. It’s just… no, no. I know it’s still early.”

You let yourself mull over his words for a few moments. Then, gradually, you shook your head. “No. It’s just I’ve never tried it before, that’s all. I’m willing to do it with you.” You looked up at him with certainty, pushing away your doubts. You loved him, and you wanted this. More than anything, you told yourself.

“Are you sure?” JJ was taken by surprise.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” he said softly, moving closer to you again. He kissed you more slowly this time, peppering your jawline with kisses and drawing out a mewl from you. His hands moved underneath your shirt and stopped before they lifted it up. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked again, his eyes nitpicking for any form of uncertainty.

“I’m sure.” The fabric was lifted over your head, then the clips of your bra were undone as he removed it delicately. You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed breasts.

JJ’s eyes widened as he took in your chest in its full glory. “You— you look like an angel,” he breathed out. He had, without admitting it, pictured in his head many times what you looked like, but he hadn’t expected you to look nearly this good. Restraining himself from tearing the rest of your clothes off you, he gently slid your shorts down your legs and stared in awe and amusement at the wetness that had soaked through your panties.

Your gorgeous eyes were filled with a trust that made his heart ache. So much that it almost him regret what he was about to do to you. Almost was the key word.

You weren’t used to being this bare in front of anyone. You were chilly except for a heat pooling between your legs. You trusted JJ, though, and were sure that he would never do anything to hurt you.

JJ pulled off his t-shirt, showing off his toned and tanned chest, abs and all. Even though you saw it frequently at the beach and pool, drool collected at the corner of your mouth.

Your thighs pressed together, making you wonder why. JJ unbuttoned his shorts next, and when he took off his boxers, the place in between your legs throbbed. You hadn’t seen his cock before, but now you wanted to suck it, lick it, feel it. And it was so big… and it looked like it was hardening, too, as he focused on you.

And hard he was. “Okay, baby, first I have to get myself ready for you.”

“Okay.” You responded instinctively, unable to take your eyes from his erection.

He chuckled and started to fist his cock, up and down and picking up pace. Pre-cum leaked from the tip and landed on the rug. A small moan left his lips and the hotness between your thighs heightened.

Your impatience was growing. You didn’t quite know what you were waiting for, but you needed it, and soon. “J— JJ,” you complained.

“Mmm, doll?” Sweat dripped down JJ’s forehead as he continued to stroke himself.

“I— I need you,” you stammered. You didn’t care if how dirty you sounded anymore. In fact, you think JJ liked it…

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you,” JJ was turned on immensely by your pleading. He finished pumping his dick and moved to join you on the sofa, directly above you.

You stared up at him, desire thick in the air between you. It was in your breath, your soul, your blood.

“Are you ready?” JJ asked in a gentle manner. No matter how much lust was bending him to you right now, he wanted to be sure you were comfortable. You were a virgin, after all. 

“Please,” you whimpered. Immediately you felt JJ’s fingers make contact with your clit. Your mouth dropped open at the feel. He made circles on your sex, stimulating you and gathering the wetness that had been accumulating for several minutes. You moaned out loud, and you slapped your hand over your mouth, ashamed. JJ removed it without pause.

“Don’t you dare, beautiful. I want to hear your sounds.” You obliged, gasping more and more as the pleasure down below built. He slipped his pointer finger inside you, doubling the volume of your cries. He added a second finger and found your particularly sensitive spot that made you squirm. He hit the same spot over and over again. Your hips bucked up involuntarily into his touch. JJ smirked at how your body seemed to react seamlessly to his every move. 

You cried out as the pleasure took over your body, riding over you in waves and racking you with violent shudders. You had never felt pure bliss like this in your life. It was better than any fairytale you had ever read or heard. But it would be nothing compared to JJ’s cock, which he was lining up carefully with your waiting pussy.

His tip pushed lightly into your entrance, and you whined. “It’s okay, baby. You can take me,” he encouraged you. He groaned as he slid further inside you, stretching you out bit by bit. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” The way you were squeezing around him was driving him insane.

Your head fell back onto the pillow as he reached the deepest point inside of you. Your walls clenched and fluttered around him. He sputtered your name while he watched his length disappear almost to his balls.

JJ rolled his hips, keeping a steady rhythm, cautious not to push you too far. The movement made your mind hazy. You could no longer think straight. 

“You doing alright?” JJ asked you in between ragged gasps, his voice deep and husky. Your breathing was faster than if you had been running for miles. “Don’t stop!” you begged in response as you came again, calling him by name.

Your voice was music to JJ’s ears. It was the only thing he wanted to hear, ever. He would fall asleep to it, get drunk on it, get himself off with it every hour of the week.

You bit down on JJ’s shoulder, making him grunt at the sting. He barely noticed the pain however. He was drinking in how your hips snapped in unison with his and your back arched backwards perfectly.

This was your first time sleeping with each other, but already neither of you wanted to cease the harmony you created. JJ pulled out just as cum spurted forward from his cock. It landed on your belly and breasts; some even landed on your face. Closing your eyes you licked it from around your mouth. The liquid you couldn’t reach you reached up and collected on your fingers, then sucked it off. He tasted salty with a hint of creaminess. You decided that it was your new favorite taste.

JJ watched you do this with his eyes blown with newfound obsession and arousal. You were no longer the innocent girl he knew. He found he liked this version of you better. Once you finished lapping up his release, he slammed back into you, no longer being gentle. He thrusted in and out hard, making a different kind of ecstasy. Bolts of lightning traveled through your veins at the speed of light. This was so good. Better, even.

“Sh— shit.” JJ let out a curse. The two of you came again quickly, at the same time. Your face was buried in your pillow and sweat, tears, and cum covered your skin.

JJ, hair messier and stringier than usual, got up off the couch, taking all his strength not to pass out. He found a cloth in your kitchen drawer and ran it under the sink. Coming back into the room, he used it to wipe you off, rolling you over with care and cleaning your thighs and stomach.

Gratefully you batted your eyelashes up at him. He felt adoration blossom in his chest and kissed your forehead. “Feeling ‘aight?”

“So tired. But better than since I was born. Thank you, JJ.” You meant it. Now that you knew what sex with him was like, you were never turning back.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Now since your body isn’t used to this sort of thing, it might be a ‘lil sore in the morning. Mind if I stay the night to make sure you’re all taken care of?” His voice was convincing, and full of affection.

“I don’t mind.” You wouldn’t say no to spending a sweet night with JJ. You were certain your parents wouldn’t mind.

Header: saradika-graphics

Tag list: @idfcaboutaname, @dirtyslag96, @gillybear17, @agnxstic, @scrappybear89, @redhead1180, @k-k0129, @lucifersgirl, @immyowndefender, @eddxemxnson, @siriusly0guys, @outerb4nkss, @lanasturns3, @code-canine, @diffidentphantom

[narcjsistx]

𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄! | itoshi rin x fem reader

part eight: new couple || BAND AU, A BIT AGED UP

plot: after your band's last concert, a few days after Rin's, an online competition arises about who is the best bassist. A whole new challenge is created by the new fandom who loves you, but people don't know that you and the bassist of Blue Lock haven't spoken in about 3 years since you broke up, when you were sixteen

characters presentation || last part || next part ; words: 0.8k

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

A few days later, with the bass in the case and a lot of anxiety, you headed to the music studio that they had told you about in your direct messages. You were very anxious, both for the situation and for seeing Rin after a long time

The last time you saw each other in person, 3 years ago, he broke up with you. He had been quick with his words, but the void he had left inside you could not be filled even a little after so much time. You had not shown interest in him since that day, but you knew perfectly well that you were still hurting. You hadn't moved even an inch from him, who seemed to have a girlfriend

Sitting on the couch you tune your bass, while some cameras, turned off, are placed around you to get the best angles. The song that won the third poll is "Every Breath You Take" by "Police", but in all this Rin still hasn't shown up. Strange for him, who has always been a precise person... maybe his girlfriend is telling him not to go here

Just as you think it, the door to the studio opens, revealing a staff member with Rin behind him. It's like your heart does a somersault as you see him again after such a long time, time you've often used to imagine this moment: what would his face show? What would he do? What would happen? Yet, beyond the usual cold look as he places his bass guitar next to the couch, there's no trace of surprise in his gaze. Maybe he didn't even notice you, and this is confirmed when he sits on the couch with you while he starts tuning his bass, as if he hadn't just seen his ex again

He's moved on. He doesn't need to notice you.

Rin has a girlfriend. He's a faithful guy.

He's moved on. You have to accept that.

"Before we start, I want to thank you both for being here! It's so important for us at the editorial team to have you here" the smiling boy says, and you nod, smiling back "It's my pleasure" you say, and you glance at Rin who doesn't seem to be paying attention to the boy's words at all, as he continues to tune his instrument. You and the man look at each other for a few seconds, probably thinking the same thing about the other bassist's silence, who only then looks up, but obviously not towards you "I'm ready"

The man explains your parts, giving you some scores. You will divide the song into two parts, each one will do one and you will be filmed, then the video will be published on the team's profile. From that moment, the poll will start for who did the best part. Try both of your parts a few times, without looking at each other, the only noise in the room being your notes and the chatter of the staff members who watch you fascinated, perhaps incredulous at having two such popular stars together in the same place

You and Rin don't dare look at each other, not during practice or at the recording, where you are the first one to be filmed since you are in charge of doing the first piece of the nice song. You try to be familiar with the camera, smiling as your fingers strum the notes you have learned by heart. You are used to the cameras, after all, it's not that hard to be comfortable. As your song is about to end, Rin's fingers begin to play on his bass, slowly raising the pitch of the notes' speed. When you look up, you're surprised to find your ex's eyes looking at you shameless. It's a quick gesture, lasting less than two seconds, but your heart and mind abandon you completely

Rin still has a lot of effect on you. You hate to admit it, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that's not enough to drive you crazy. It's just that when your eyes meet again for the first time after 3 years, it's as if everything you've experienced together as a couple flashes before your eyes, reflecting the experiences in his. It's something you can't stop, but it continues until the moment he lowers his gaze, concentrating on his notes

You catch your breath when your part is over and the cameras focus on the Blue Lock guy. As you tighten your hands around the neck of your bass, you feel so lost from the experience that just happened. You would have expected something, maybe not from him but certainly from you, but you didn't expect such a powerful reaction from your body. It's as if it confirms to you that not only your mind and soul has remained on that day, but also your body, which now shakes a bit

The song ends, Rin stops moving his fingers on the fretboard of his bass. The staff applauds you and you come back to reality a little, while you thank everyone in a low voice for the opportunity and for the beautiful video they made of both of you..But while you do this, Rin has already taken his instrument and left the room

TAGLIST: @x3nafix ; @kittenish0 ; @littlejapanesesightseeingtrip ; @pan-kojiwa ; @pookalicious-hq ; @kaz-0e ; @sof888a ; @chugging-bleach ; @matchablossomsss ; @lovelymeguru ; @thebestsetter ; @yamsverse ; @princesssae ; @yuukigyatgyat ; @azharyy ; @rwbie ; @bubybubsters ; @swagkittybear ; @syarc0re ; @rink1sser ; @frogsrules ; @hwaassaa

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg, part 2 of sevika x masc reader, childhood friends to lovers pleaseeee!!! It's so cute I love it omggg, okay imma give a scenario, they're aged up now, but still teens, and they do badass, and mischievous shit, and maybe it's their idea of a first date heh ☺️ You're amazing angel, I love theseee!!!

HEHEHEHEHEH i'm so glad u guys like this one, i was a tomboy as a kid and writing this story is healing something inside me

men and minors dni

sevika gives you a skeptical look. "and you're sure it'll work?"

you huff and roll your eyes. sevika thinks that because she's got a year on you she knows everything. "would you just trust me?"

"i just don't wanna give you an infection and be the reason you die or something."

you giggle and lean forward, kissing her worried frown. "that's why we got the alcohol-- to sanitize everything. and we run the needles through a flame before, too-- it kills the germs."

sevika's still squinting skeptically, but at least now she's blushing from the kiss.

you roll your eyes. "i'll let you do me first, if you're so nervous." you offer. sevika finally smiles. you grin and pull your shirt off.

sevika's staring right at your tits when you fling your shirt away. you giggle, and she kicks you in embarrassment. "you've seen them before, baby."

"i-i just-- shut up!" sevika huffs, pushing you down onto your back. you laugh, blinking up at the twinkling multicolored lights of your hideout.

you feel your own nervous embarrassment grow as sevika straddles your waist and stares down at your chest. she's heavy and warm and firm, and she's blinking down at you with her gorgeous silver eyes, a nervous glimmer behind them as she looks at you.

"okay." sevika whispers. "where do you want it?" she asks.

you grin and tap the top of your left tit. "right over my heart. duh."

sevika rolls her eyes. "that's so fucking corny." she whines. you grin.

"yeah, well, where are you gonna put yours?" you ask.

sevika's eyes dart away from yours and she mumbles. "s-same place, i guess."

you take one big swig off the bottle you'd stolen before handing it to sevika and letting her begin her work.

she gently soaks a cotton pad in the alcohol, wipes your chest clean. she sets up the supplies on your stomach, paper towels and ink and packaged needles. and when she's finally ready, she leans down and presses her lips to your chest, her black lipstick leaving a perfect kiss mark over your heart.

you giggle in excitement, then jump at the first poke of her needle. sevika pouts.

"does it hurt?" she asks, worried. you shrug. she tsks and smacks your shoulder. "don't move!"

you giggle. "it... just feels like a lot of scratches happening at once."

sevika hums along to the music you've got playing on the radio as she works, and you stare up at her, simply admiring your best friend.

when you'd asked a few weeks ago if sevika'd ever get a tattoo, her answer was a hard 'no.' she hates needles, and she's not really an artistic type.

but once you told her your idea for the one you wanted-- a permanent reminder of her love, her kiss etched into your skin for eternity-- sevika seemed enchanted with the idea.

which is how you ended up here. it takes a long time, and by the end, the top of your tit feels like it's on fire. but still, it's all worth it for the smile it pulls out of sevika when she admires her handiwork.

when she hands you a mirror and lets you look, you tear up a bit.

"wh--what?! do you regret it, did i do it wrong!?"

you laugh as you sit up and wrap sevika in a hug, nuzzling your nose against the crook of her neck and shoulder. "i love you." you say shakily. "it's perfect."

sevika sighs and kisses your head. "well, don't fuckin' cry, i need your vision clear so you don't fuck up mine." she huffs, kissing you one more time before flopping onto her back and unbuttoning her own shirt. you giggle and start collecting the supplies for sevika's tattoo.

she helps you apply her lipstick to your own lips-- you don't trust yourself to make it pretty-- the most makeup you ever wear is the remnants of sevika's that gets smudged onto your skin during a makeout session.

she giggles when she finishes applying the lipstick. "you look good."

you grin. "yeah? should i get my own tube of black?"

sevika rolls her eyes. "it's not black, it's coffee brown. i'm not, like, emo, or anything." you raise a disbelieving eyebrow at your girlfriend and she huffs in embarrassment. "whatever. just hurry up and kiss me already."

you laugh, bending down to press one clean, perfect kiss to her tit. when you pull away, you grin at your mark, then bend down to barrage her face with sloppy, uncorrdinated kisses. sevika squeals and bursts into laughter, half-heartedly shoving you away.

"close your eyes." you demand as you pick up a clean needle for her. sevika huffs.

"i wanna watch. you got to make goo-goo eyes at me the whole time."

you snort. "you're scared of needles, dummy, so close your eyes. you can stare at me when we've got you all tatted up and matching me."

sevika huffs and closes her eyes.

you feel bad poking your girlfriend so repeatedly, especially when she's clearly cringing in pain. but, once you get into the groove of it, sevika relaxes, and eventually she's asleep underneath you.

you giggle, kissing sevika's cheek to wake her up when you're finished.

she wakes up with a snort, and then she breaks into a grin. "d'ya finish?" she asks.

you hand her the mirror, watching in anticipation for your girlfriend's reaction.

sevika grins and bursts into laughter, before tossing the mirror away and pulling you down to kiss her. you hum happily against her lips.

"this means we're for real best friends forever now. y' can't lose a tattoo like you lost our friendship bracelet." sevika says. you cackle.

"how long are you gonna hold that over me?! i didn't mean to lose it-- i was eight!"

"i was only nine and i kept mine in perfect condit--" you cut her off with a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys

[aggieharkness]

Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 6

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: the clock ticks for everyone, without care for wealth, titles or power. Avis knew this but so did you, and amongst the fire that blazed inside the studio, someone was bound to get burnt.

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, torture/abuse, injuries/wounds, KKK, guns and use of guns, swearing, character death.

Authors note: First of all, I'm very sorry about what's going on in the US. I hope that the Trump administration doesn't destroy all the lovely people who live over there and don't deserve it. I wish I could help. Secondly, here you have the newest chapter. I looooooooved writing it, and had so much fun, but I must apologise for what I have done with the characters. Still, I hope that you like it and as always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking in something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas that you might have or things that you might want to see Avis and reader do. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader for part of the story. I love you.

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4 Chp.5

Word count: 24K

Her lips tasted of blood

It was so cold. And dark. You were unsure what was going on or where you were, your body slumped on a chair, freezing under the cold air that moved from wall to wall, all across the room. With great effort, you opened your eyes, but they felt so heavy that it was hard work to simply blink, finding your surroundings blurry, the air damp against your skin, but upon better inspection, your eyes focusing on your lap and legs, you saw that there was blood staining your dress, trails of the crimson liquid dripping from scratches on your knees and wounds on your shins. It was so hard to try and catch a glimpse of the room, to move your arms, tied to the back of the chair with thick ropes, hoping you would be able to stand and observe, but you were trapped. There were no windows, and if they were they were covered up, but there was an oil lamp in a corner of the room, it’s flame dim and barely giving out any light but it helped, nonetheless. The fuzzy feeling that had taken your mind hostage seemed to be vanishing, only a thin fog floating around your thoughts, the event of the previous night broken in pieces as you tried to puzzle it all together, images of Avis sliding before your eyes, of her beautiful brown eyes, of her perfect ginger curls, but they were cut off by figures dressed in black. Who they were you did not know, but they sure as hell weren’t friendly.

As your body rose from its slumber you realised that you were completely alone, the only sound echoing in the empty room being that of your breaths, puffs of it steaming and floating in white rivulets before your eyes. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, your throat dry as if you had just spent weeks in the desert, the feeling of the rough muscle against your palate making you cringe and shiver, but you still ran it over your lips hoping to get some sort of moisture over the scratches and split lower lip. There had been a man as you had stepped out of the car, he had asked you for directions, you thought, or perhaps he had asked for the time, you could not quite remember, but his voice had sounded so familiar, so dangerous that you had not answered. Or maybe you hadn’t had the chance. All you could remember clearly was the feeling of someone watching you as you left Avis’s place. Something dripped down your neck, the sudden feeling making you jump, but it wasn’t the ghostly touch of a finger, it was far too warm, maybe even hot, scorching your skin as it left a sticky trail. You were bleeding, you thought after a moment, your brain still slow in its functions as if there was still something affecting it, the faint smell of chloroform lingering against your nose and mouth with its sweet remnants that told you, you had been drugged, though that much was to be expected. You were not one to simply let yourself be taken by strangers.

As you tried to move your body to the right a sharp pain coursed through your entire arm, making you whimper miserably under the shadows of the room, the sound echoing against the walls mockingly, reminding you that it was only you and your scattered memories. Trying to move it again to assess the damage done you felt the pain radiating from your shoulder all the way to your fingertips, realising after a moment that it could have been dislocated in the struggle. Yes, you had fought against that man, you remembered now. He had grabbed your arm, and you had pushed him, but his grip had been too strong and after scratching his cheek he had slapped you, splitting your lip. You could not recall the words he had spoken to you, but you were pretty sure that Avis’s name had come out of that disgusting mouth of his at some point, the stench of alcohol and cheap cigars hitting you suddenly. There was a pounding feeling on the left side of your head, like a bad headache that was about to start leaving a dull pressure behind your eyes that you could not get rid of, noticing the same warm stickiness that was running down your neck, on your hair. He must have hit you, but why or how was a blank space in the records of your mind?

You could feel every inch of your body battered and bruised, probably black and blue if you could get just a little bit more of light but it was impossible to move. Maybe the chair was too heavy, or bolted to the floor, or perhaps your body just didn’t have the strength to try and stand, your feet bare over the freezing, rough tiles. From your throat a cough erupted, like a bomb going off inside your head, chest convulsing for a few moments, lungs practically begging for air against your bruised ribs. Every cell in your body hurt, like fire spreading through your limbs bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. This attack left you drained, gasping for air and forcing your eyes to close as the light-headedness overtook you again, slamming you to the ground, if you had been able to stand. You just felt so weak, so useless, but in the back of your mind you could only think about how thankful you were that it was you in this room and not Avis. You would have destroyed the entire country to find her if she had been in your exact same predicament, and as much as you wanted to get out of there, to be free and never see that man again, you did not want her to get involved, to put herself in harms ways. If they had done this to you, you could not imagine what they would be willing to do to her.

There was a sound reverberating in the distance, a noise getting closer and closer with each passing second. Your heart hammered against your ribs, each beat hitting on a bruise or a scratch, bringing out silent whimpers, but you didn’t dare make a sound, impending dread building rapidly all over your body, your head moving from side to side to try and locate the door. They were footsteps, the soles of either brand new shoes or refurbished ones stomping over the dirty dark tiles, outside of this room, in a corridor probably, you thought, hands turning into fists as if that could protect you. Foolish move. Behind your back metal screeched sharply, like nails raking over a blackboard continuously until the heavy door banged against the wall. There was silence then, you could not even hear the person breathing, but you did smell a strong male perfume, perhaps an aftershave of sandalwood, a pungent smell of cheap cigars overtaking your senses as it floated in your direction. It was him.

Lurking in the shadows, watching like a hunter, like an animal that was about to feast on the carcass of some poor creature, his eyes raked over your battered body. They were hard, triumphant under the light of the dying flame. He had no desire to move, not yet, he thrived in the way your head moved slowly from side to side trying to see him, on the way your frame trembled in fear and terror, eyes wide and frantic. He had the upper hand now, he thought, drinking in the way your blood dripped down your legs and bare arms, crimson tears splashing over the ground in an ever-growing puddle, a punishment for you. And her. Overstepping, and crossing lines that had been clearly established long ago always brought consequences, no matter how much money or fame one had; a well-placed bullet could end it all in an instant. But he wasn’t that sort of guy, he preferred to see their downfall, to watch them crawl like the useless creatures they were, always under the soles of his shoes, dependent and ever so weak. He loved to push women to the ground and to remind them where they stood in the pyramid of life, next to the cockroaches and the cripples of society. He felt so powerful having you right there, terrified of only his shadow, basking in all the things he could do with you to achieve his purpose, his goal in this life. 

One step towards you and your entire body froze on the spot. Another step and you could almost feel his depraved smile against your skin. Another step and the heat of his body was barely a foot from yours, the tension in every muscle crossing the line of torture, reopening wounds, and making thin trails of blood run over your porcelain skin. He was stalking you, preparing himself for the kill, you thought, your breaths so hurried that you feared you might hyperventilate and then his hand landed on your injured shoulder and your world stopped turning as pain radiated all the way down to your fingers and stomach, breaths hitched in your lungs. If you had been in the right state of mind, you would have felt his calloused hand, the crack on his skin and dry palm, but you could not focus, your mind hazy and foggy under the daggers that were piercing every inch of your flesh. He had you right where he wanted you. Weak, pathetic, and probably willing to talk now. He had left that part of the job to another fool who that had failed miserably, so he had to do away with him and come down to finish the job himself. He hated having to get his hands dirty but how delicious it was to watch all those poor people give in to his bloodied hands before the last shot was delivered, their lifeless bodies dripping onto the ground like puppets that had served their purpose and could now be discarded. Better than a glass of champagne after a good dinner. His hot breath caressed your ear in fake gentleness, deep, dangerous words slipping from his lips.

-Will you tell me what I want?

Someone had asked you that, you could remember a young voice shaking as he asked that, but you didn’t know what he meant. You knew nothing, nothing. He must have thought that your silence meant no, and without caring about how painful it might be he pulled your head back, hairs ripping from your scalp, another miserable whimper escaping from your parted and broken lips. The angle didn’t let you see his face fully, and the dim light only made the shadows that danced over his face deeper, darkening his heartless eyes, those sky-blue eyes that hid a merciless soul, that showed the truth of this man as if they were a cover to protect the real him. The murderer, the kidnapper, the one who pulled the trigger at the end of the day. Tears stung your puffy red eyes, gathering at the corners as you held his gaze. There, on his cheek, were the scratches you had inflicted on him the previous night, deep, but no longer bleeding, a sign that he had been almost knocked of his feet by you, a mistake he would not allow to happen again. He would rip your head of your shoulders with his bare hands if he let you overstep like that again, although he was pretty sure it would not happen. You were pretty tied up at the moment.

-Don’t make me play the bad guy. Just tell me what I want, and you’ll be out of here in no time.

-I… I don’t know… - you could not deliver the words, your throat dry, raw from the chloroform and the lack of hydration, your head bent so far back that you feared your muscles might snap from around your shoulders.

-Yes, you do. Do you think us so stupid, so blind that we wouldn’t know what you and that whore have been up to? Avis has not been as careful as she thought, flaunting her affair with you around the entirety of Hollywood.

-We are not…

-Don’t lie to me Y/N! – he yanked your head so hard and so fast that your heart skipped a beat as the chair moved under your body, your feet leaving the feeling of the cold ground behind as he tilted you back, keeping your entire body from slamming onto the floor by holding onto your hair. The tears could not be stopped, falling slowly down your cheeks, making the salty crystal liquid red as they ran over the gash on your cheek, over the splatters of dried blood that were sprinkled over your flesh. – I have seen it with my own eyes. You and she are two depraved creatures that should be put down to protect our children from such disgusting behaviours and to preserve the values of our nation. But you are more valuable to me alive. For now. So, tell me, what would you be willing to do to make sure I don’t put a bullet between her eyebrows?

-Don’t hurt her. Please. I’ll do anything, anything at all.

-See? It’s not so difficult to cooperate with me. – the chair was pushed back on all four legs, making your body bounce painfully, his hand releasing your hair with a relieved sigh escaping your lungs. His footsteps were hard as he came around you, pulling a chair from the furthest corner, the metal scratching the ground so loudly that you had to turn your head away from the sound, the dull ache that had been in your head developing into a proper headache that pulsated deep inside your skull. He placed the piece of furniture before you and sat, arms resting over his knees, legs spread, and face hidden by the dark. The flame had died, leaving you completely at the mercy of his predatory eyes, glowing amongst the shadows. – Start talking.

-What… what do you want to know?

Across Hollywood, the screeching of wheels over the asphalt rumbled as Avis’s driver sped through the streets. A fucking cross burning in her front yard. She was beyond livid, furious at the audacity of this cunts to invade her home and threaten her and her daughter like that. She had been in such hysterics all throughout the night that Claire had to give her some Valium to calm her fury enough so she could sleep. But the effects were long gone, and the rage was once more coursing through her veins. The car turned right, meeting a mob of angry people with signs that said that the production of Meg had to be stopped, that it was immoral what they were doing, and that they had to boycott it and the studio. Fucking bunch of imbeciles, Avis thought, eye narrow as she stared coldly at all those jerks through the car window, their screams and insults sliding off her back as if they were nothing. She would not be cowered down by strangers. They didn’t mean shit to her, words could not harm her, burning crosses, though, that was a whole different matter. The car moved slowly among the people until it managed to cross the gates, the voices vanishing in the distance as soon as they were through and stationed in the parking lot. The image of the flames was engraved in her mind, keeping her still in the back seat of her car for a moment too long.

It was a warning, a wake-up call for her and everyone involved in that film, she knew this, and to a certain extent, she did not care what happened to her. She had taken this risk, she was responsible for it, but if something happened to Claire, she would destroy entire families and bloodlines if she had the chance. She might have not been a good mother, but she was trying now, and the bond that she had formed with her girl meant everything. She was not willing to put her in any kind of danger. The driver held the door open, waiting for her to step out under the warm sun of Los Angeles, looking discreetly at the zoned-out eyes of his boss. Gently the old man cleared his throat which earned him a glare from Avis as she was woken up from her musings, but he was not intimidated, he had been present for the entire conversation she had had with her daughter about her safety and whether she should stay somewhere else until the entire situation cleared up; he knew what had occurred. Avis grabbed her purse with a furious grip, knuckles white at the strength with which she holding the accessory, and got out of the car, her entire frame held high as her steps stomped hard against the concrete ground. She would have to call on a meeting and inform Dick and Ellen about it, maybe Henry and a couple more people, but she was not willing to get the rest of the cast involved in such matters unless it was strictly necessary.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that the spot where you usually parked your car was empty, that feeling that you should have stayed with her that night returning along with a sense of dread that made her stomach turn. No, she would not have wanted you to see the gift those bastards had left her. The halls were filled with chatter, but it wasn’t the usual nonsensical conversations she heard every day; words were full of fear, of worry, fragments about Molotov cocktails and fires reaching her ears. It surprised her how fast this news had travelled, she had expected to not hear a thing about it until later in the day, which made her wonder if this had not been an attack aimed only at her and Claire. She was beginning to believe this was bigger than she had anticipated. Standing in the lift she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, the image of the flames burning, scorching right before her, replaying in her mind on a loop. These people were beyond dangerous, they would go to extremes to achieve their purpose, and she wasn’t sure if she could face this. She was angry, furious, burning with rage, but would that be enough? Was the film worth losing everything else? The doubts she had had when it had still been Peg seemed like child’s play compared to all this, to the now that she was involved in. The doors chimed as the lift doors opened, her heels stepping over the carpeted hallway as she made her way to her office, rehearsing what she was going to say to Miss Stinton without giving too much away, but the words never made it out. Those big doors were open, Ellen sitting on the couch with her hands clasped neatly on her lap, Dick and Henry pacing up and down the room.

-Avis! – the blond woman was the first one to acknowledge her, turning her body nervously to face her friend, the writhing intensifying over her blue skirt. There was a veil of worry over her eyes, like a scared child who needed the comfort of her parents, who needed her friends to assure her that things would be alright, and no one would get hurt. An impossible mission, Avis thought. This might only be the beginning.

-What’s going on? Why are you all here?

-Things have escalated.

-Escalated? Dick? – the gravity of the situation implied by his words sent a shiver down Avis’s spine, her feet carrying her towards her desk so she could leave her purse over the dark wood, hands working on her ginger curls to unpin her hat. She was being deliberately slow, her back to them, doubting if she would not collapse under the pressure of it all. Because something told her that he wasn’t talking about the mob outside. She had expected problems, setbacks, and boycotts, but never had she considered the true extent of what these people might do.

-Camille and Archie have been targeted. A burning cross was left in Camille’s front yard, and they threw what we think was some sort of Molotov cocktail through Archie’s window. The whole place could have burnt down but thankfully it didn’t. These people are moving, Avis, and they are not being subtle about it

-Supposing it is who we think it is.

-Don’t give me that bullshit again, Henry. You know as much as everyone in this room that there’s only one group that gets something out of terrorising us. They’ve been against Meg since day one, boycotting our films, and being extremely vocal about how immoral it is. We all know how dangerous they are. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard stories about them and about how ugly things get if they don’t get their way.

-I’m not saying that it’s not them, Mr. Samuels, but do we have enough proof to say that it was them and not some random anti-black group? No one else in the production of Meg has come forth about something similar happening to them.

-Yes, we do. – Avis felt ice instead of blood pumping from her heart, leaving her body cold against the edge of the desk. This wasn’t just about who was in the film, it was about the studio as well. Turning to face her colleagues was a herculean task at most, legs unresponsive as she held onto the desk to the best of her abilities, dread glazing her eyes as they moved between the three people standing before her. – I was going to call you for a meeting to tell you, but I had someone break into my property last night and leave a burning cross in my front yard.

-What?!

-Claire woke me up saying that the house was on fire, so I grabbed her and went to the front door to get out and that’s when we saw it. There was no message, no threatening letter, nothing, just the cross.

-This is what I mean, Henry! It’s the fucking KKK! No one else would dare leave a fucking cross on fire at the Amberg residence!

-Calm down Dick. – Ellen’s demure and calm personality was always trying to reduce the tension of every encounter, every fight, but it was proving to be rather difficult as her own shoulders tensed in worry, her eyes not leaving Avis’s frame. This was big, it wasn’t just a prank or a game of some random revolutionary group, this was a full threat to everyone. It had moved from being dangerous for her and Claire to being a constant guillotine hovering over everyone’s head in this studio.

-How can I? We might be next; our families might already be on the list!

-Dick, stop! – Avi’s raised hand seemed to serve as a brake for Dick’s rant, forcing him to stop in his tracks and face her. She needed to get the facts straight before moving into step two of this plan she was making up on the spot. – Hold your horses there for a moment and tell me, are Camille and Archie alright?

-Yes. They were a bit shaken but nothing else happened. They called the authorities to have both items removed.

-Alright. You and Ellen haven’t been threatened, have you? No phone calls or strange letters in the mail? Odd visitors or strangers near your homes?

-Nothing of the sort, no. For now anyway.

-Okay. Then the question we all need to be asking ourselves is what are going to do about Meg?

-We can’t cancel it, Mrs. Amberg!

-This are people’s lives, Henry, it’s not a game!

-So, we just give them what they want? Lose all the money we’ve invested and have this reputation for being cowards for years to come?!

-I’m not risking my daughter’s life for a film!

-This is not about the film Mrs. Amberg! It’s about dignity, it’s about fighting back and not letting them walk all over us!

-I must agree with Henry, Avis. They don’t care about the film; they just don’t want a black woman to play the lead. This was never about whether the script was immoral or not, it was bout you green-lighting it and casting Camille. They can’t stand it when women “step out of line”.

-This might only be the beginning, Dick. Is it really worth it? Are we ready to face the consequences?

-You’ve seen it, Avis. Do you think it’s worth fighting for?

She supposed it all came down to that. The story was good, the scenes that were already in post-production were amazing, and it had the potential to be nominated for a fucking Oscar if it carried on like that. It was an amazing film. But it wasn’t just about the art; she knew they were right, it was never about breaking the Hays code or making an indecent film, it was because she was in charge, and she was doing exactly what Ace would have refused to do. She had been pushed aside over and over since birth all because she didn’t have a penis in between her legs, but that didn’t make her less good at her fucking job. She had power now, she could break rules and set new limits, and she could do whatever she wanted in her studio. Was she going to back down now? Was she really going to let these white men take it all from her, from Camille, and from every other woman who was willing to break out of the mold? No fucking way. This would be her life’s work, this might be the only chance to do something that could change lives, that could set a course for a new way of making films. She was too fucking tired of being in the shadows of men and she would not stand for it anymore. They wanted to leave burning crosses in her front yard? Let them. She would have the firefighters on speed dial. No more sitting down to let them do what they desired. There was defiance in her stance, her feet firmly on the floor as she stepped away from the desk and towards Ellen and Dick, palms pressed against the back of the couch, eyes glued to the man in question.

-Are Camille and Archie willing to continue?

-Yes. They said they were used to this sort of thing, Archie even mentioned a time when he saw his uncle being pulled from his bed and hanged from a tree in front of his house. They are scared, frightened even, but they are not surprised about it, and they are willing to carry on.

-These picketings and riots will continue every day until production is finished as well, it’s simply a fact, we all know it, Mrs. Amberg. So as a producer…

-Keep “producer” in quotes. – Henry was walking behind Avis on a loop, his shoes almost leaving a circular mark over the carpet as he moved his hands in front of his chest, emphasising his words even more. Dick’s jab barely made the younger man flinch as he carried on with his speech.

-So as a producer, I must ask, how are we going to make sure that we can continue?

-I can offer them bungalows until the film is done, but if they refuse to leave their homes, which let’s be honest, I wouldn’t do either unless I want to come back to a mount of ashes, I will pay for extra security at everyone’s place.

-This will cost the studio more money than what the budget can afford, Mrs. Amberg.

-Then I will pay for it from my own pocket. We all want this film, don’t we? And our leading cast is willing to carry on? Then we are not backing down. We are making a statement. I will not be bullied.

Fire burnt in her eyes, determination and strength seeping from every pore in her body. Henry was taken aback by how harsh and real her words sounded, but Ellen and Dick simply smiled as they shared a knowing look. There was the fisty Avis they had been looking for, the fiery woman they all knew and needed to fight this. She was a storm, a force of nature that could not be stopped, would not be stopped, and it was no matter what life threw her way, she would get up and carry on. There was rage inside her, an anger at the audacity of these people, but it wasn’t for herself anymore; these kids were good people, they were doing their jobs, things that they loved and meant something to them, they did not deserve to live lives like this. They shouldn’t have to know what the fear of being pulled out of one’s bed and shot should feel like, they shouldn’t have to worry about setting foot out in the streets only to be arrested for having done nothing, to get entire police stations chasing them because some white person called about a “dangerous figure” in their pristine rich neighbourhood. No human should have to know the fear of death as soon as they take their first breath. If the KKK were so ready to pull stunts like this using groups like the American Colonization Society to cover their asses, she was ready to fight back as well. Meg was her baby, and she wasn’t going to let anyone destroy all the hard work she had put into this. She was going to make history you had told her; she was doing what no one else had the balls to do; she wasn’t going to disappoint you. With hands as fists over the leather of the couch she locked eyes with Dick.

-Go down to the set and tell them of our decision. If we want to stay within budget, we can’t afford slip-ups. We must stay on schedule.

Without so much as a nod, he left the room, beaming with pride, followed closely by Henry, the voice of the younger man reaching Avis’s ears as he retorted to Dick about not letting him call himself a producer. They were like children, bickering over the stupidest things. Ellen was the only person left, watching the way Avis rubbed her fingertips and pulled at the hem of her jacket while her eyes still lingered by the doors, a nervous habit the blond knew far too well. There was something else rummaging in that mind of hers, Ellen could see it in her deep doe eyes that flickered from side to side, on the way the ginger bit her lower lip, curiosity peeking through the craziness of the situation. Avis didn’t even get the chance to tell her friend to stay, she had already stood and closed the doors in less than five seconds, making her way back to the couch to sit in front of her, the redhead playing with the stitches that held the leather together. She wasn’t sure why she wanted her to be there, she just knew that she would be the only that could understand these feelings. There was something wrong that no one was seeing, and it unnerved her beyond belif. Something was practically screaming at her from the back of her mind that you should have stayed with her last night, clawing at her heart, the hair on the back of her neck standing every time she left the sensation washing over her. It was as if there was imminent danger in her future and she could not see which way it was coming from.

-Is Claire okay?

-Yeah. She was obviously scared at first but once the fire was out and the police left a couple of boys by the gates she calmed down.

-And you?

-You want an honest answer?

-You know I do, Avis.

-I’m shitting bricks. I hardly slept last night. – it was far too early in the morning for this, but she needed a drink. Maybe the alcohol would make all these feelings diminish their intensity, perhaps even numb her enough that she would be able to carry on with this shit of a day. Ever since you had left, your tender smile still lingering in her mind like the remnants of a sweet wine, everything had gone wrong, and she felt that deep down, she should have known something like this was coming. With tired steps Avis made her way to the table in the furthest corner, eyeing each bottle with practiced care but leaving the shakers on the side as she could not be bothered with the hassle of making a martini. She poured herself a glass of scotch instead, the amber liquid falling gently inside the glass, letting the initial burn bathe her throat before settling in her stomach with a deep sigh, finally building up the courage to face Ellen. - I just can’t wrap my head around how people can do this sort of thing. I thought things would change after the war, but everything’s the same. We are still being persecuted and objectified; black people are still being murdered on the streets, and we think that it’s normal. It isn’t! It shouldn’t be, Ellen.

-Believe me, I understand better than anyone what you mean.

-Are we doing the right thing? They’ve come for Camille, Archie and me, but we can handle it, what if they targeted someone like Jack? Or Ernie?

-Don’t get ahead of yourself. You are already working on it, and I’m sure that as soon as these people see that their little stunt hasn’t worked, they will stop.

-I hope you are right. Ace would drop dead on the spot if he knew about what’s going on. – she could almost see his disapproving glares and disgusted smirks, making her feel so small, so insignificant. But she also knew that as macho as he always acted, he wouldn’t have the strength to put up with all of this, he wouldn’t fight for what was right, he would simply shut it all down and bow down to all those bastards trying to intimidate him. She was far from that sort of woman, even if the doubts took hold of her every chance they got, after all, people’s lives were at stake here, not just a film and a budget.

-But he isn’t here, dear, you are. This is your studio.

-Which means I’m responsible for everyone under this roof and I’ll be dammed if I let some man-child throw a hissy fit on my doorstep. Next time I’ll shove those crosses up their asses, mark my words, Ellen.

-Oh, I can totally see you doing that. – she patted the seat next to her, the leather cold under her palm, but her smile warm and inviting. Avis didn’t protest, simply made her way to the appointed spot and let herself fall as gracefully as possible with the glass still in her hand, taking a sip once she was settled. Ellen’s expression had changed slightly, observing her friend with a raised eyebrow and a coy smile on her lips, the fear and worry that had previously overtaken her eyes, now pushed to the back. She had been caught, Avis thought. Of course, her best friend would find out about her affair, but maybe she could play it safe and keep you to herself for a bit longer, although it would be a hard task. Thinking about you brought a light blush to her cheeks, calming her racing thoughts and pressured feelings somewhat. - So… why aren’t you telling me to go back to work? What little secret are you hiding from me?

-I’m not hiding anything.

-Really? So, if I ask why Y/N came to work the other day wearing your black shawl, you are going to tell me that it was because she was cold and you simply lent it to her the night before?

-It’s not like that, Ellen. – here she was, with a screaming mob outside and fire dangling above her head and the only thing that she cared about was making sure you were not defamed in front of her. You had never been a one-night stand or some means for her to achieve an orgasm. You were everything to her; the moon, the sun, the stars, the air that she breathed, and the land she walked upon. Avis’s eyes were stern when she lifted them from the amber liquid in her glass to stare at Ellen’s endless blue ones. - She’s not like the boys from the gas station.

-But you like her.

-I do, but most importantly, she likes me back. We have… something special. She makes me feel like I matter, as if I’m human and therefore deserving of love and recognition. When I’m with her I’m a million dollars all in brand-new twenties.

-Oh, my Lord. Avis Amberg, you are in love! – that wasn’t news to her, but hearing it from someone else made her heart skip a beat, a giddy smile painting her lips. It was strange to have another person voice it so plainly, it made it so real, but the again, it was. She was madly and utterly in love with you.

-I know it’s wrong, to a certain extent, since I’m married, but everything’s just so perfect when I’m with her.

-Oh, this is wonderful! - what? Avis’s eyes were wide in surprise, the left corner of her mouth lifting in a lopsided smile as she stared dumbfounded at Ellen. It wasn’t that Ellen didn’t know about all the conquests that she carried under her belt, but somehow, she had expected her to defend the values of her marriage to Ace a bit more, but she hadn’t even tried. And that simple fact and the genuine smile that she was giving her lifted a weight of her shoulders that she hadn’t known was crushing her. – She’s a lovely girl, and she clearly is doing you a world of good. Oh, Avis, I would love to ask her to come up here to gossip about it all, but she hasn’t arrived yet.

-Y/N is not here yet?

-No. I thought it was odd, since she’s always so punctual, in her chair at seven sharp, and she always informs me if she has an appointment or if she’s feeling ill, but I had too much on my mind this morning to think about it for too long. – all the joy and warmth of this little moment was wiped out in under a second, her words cutting sharply and making that nagging and disconcerting feeling of dread rise to the surface like foam exploding from a champagne bottle. She noticed the change in her friend’s demeanour, the way her eyes unfocused for a moment, lost in a world of their own as her stance became sharp, tense under the touch of Ellen’s slender fingers on her arm. - Avis?

-She accompanied me home last night, but she didn’t stay. I heard her car drive off.

-I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she forgot to tell me about an appointment, or something came up.

-No. I had this feeling last night, I still have it now, that she should have stayed. It wasn’t because I would miss her, it was just this visceral need to keep her safe with me, as if I could protect her. – she placed the glass on the coffee table, the scotch nearly spilling over the rim and onto her pale hand. - Something’s wrong. It’s like there’s this danger right in front of me that I can’t see, and it’s somehow related to her.

-Calm down, Avis. I’m sure that all this is brought on by the circumstances and she’s in fact fine.

-You don’t understand Ellen. I felt it in my bones, in my soul that she needed to stay, that something would go wrong if she left, and I still let her walk away. What if she’s had an accident or has gone missing?

-Missing? I wouldn’t quite say that being late for work qualifies a person as missing. You are letting your thoughts get the better of you. Y/N might be at home, and you are just worrying over nothing.

-But what if she isn’t? After last night can you blame me for wondering if she’s alright?

-I suppose not. Maybe you can send someone down to her address, check it out.

-Yes, I think that would work.

She rushed to her feet, hands shaking. If something had happened to you, she would blame herself for all eternity, the image of your car smoking, crashed against a lamppost or falling down a bridge, exploding into a million pieces passing through her mind, making her heart race against her ribs. The palms of her hands were sweaty as she pulled the doors open once more, eyes landing on Miss Stinton instantly, her feet stumbling slightly as she made her way to the woman’s desk. Ellen had stood from her spot on the couch, but didn’t follow, she merely rounded the piece of furniture and headed for the window, waiting for Avis to finish her conversation with her secretary. She could not say that your tardiness wasn’t strange, but she wouldn’t go the extent of saying that you were missing, not really, but her friend seemed so sure, so worried and scared that she was doubting her own reassurances. Everything about this day was beginning to look like a macabre play and they were all performing it against their will. Someone was bound to get hurt sooner rather than later. The shrill sound of the phone ringing inside the office interrupted her train of thought, and after glancing towards Avis who was writing something down on a piece of paper while talking hurriedly, Miss Stinton nodding her head solemnly, Ellen walked quickly to pick it up. There was silence for a moment on the other side of the line.

-Mrs. Amberg’s office, how may I help you?

-Did Avis like the present we left in her garden last night? – her blood ran cold. A man’s voice spoke to her, words distorted as if a cloth was covering the bottom part of the handset, a mocking tone lacing them, deep and rumbling. They raked at her spine, freezing her on the spot without a clue what to do, what to say, but he knew she was still there, her breathing sharp and hurried against the black phone. It was them, that was the only thing clear in her mind, but them calling was most definitely a bad sign that there was something else going on. Maybe they had overlooked a detail, and it had led to this, Ellen could not be sure.

-Would… would you hold for a moment, please? – she did not wait for a response, even though she wasn’t certain she would get one. With eyes wides, she turned her body around, almost as if the world was suddenly happening around her in slow motion, knuckles white as she held hard onto the receiver. - Avis! – the woman was talking still with Miss Stinton, dismissing her call with the wave of her hand before returning her attention to something displayed on her secretary’s desk. God dammit Avis, this was far more important! Fear and anger were beginning to spread like wildfire through her limbs, overtaking the numbness and shock. - AVIS!

-What?!

-This is for you. 

She would have huffed and retorted at her friend if the sight of her pale face had not made all sorts of alarms go off in her head. The way she was holding the phone, as if her life depended on it, the fear dressing her features, made her hands tremble, her heart racing against her ribs so hard that she thought she might bruise them. There had been a slight waver to her friend’s words as she had spoken them that had brought goosebumps up all over her skin in worry. She was usually so well spoken, perfect dictation and tone lacing everything she said; this was wrong. Avis’s steps were slow, unsure at first, but Ellen’s stance did not falter, if only it got worse as she began to shake, forcing her movements to become faster, clumsier as well over the carpet. On the other side of the receiver, the man puffed his chest, his patience running thin. He had half a mind to hang up, but he could not lose the opportunity to threaten and bargain with the woman he so wanted to crush into dust. The longer this went on for, the higher the chance of them getting caught, and he could not afford such a thing to happen. He needed the girl alive until he got what he wanted, and he wasn’t planning on keeping her around past this evening. Avis’s perfectly manicured hand stretched out, palm upright to receive the phone, the plastic making contact with her skin as Ellen handed it to her, the blond rushing to cover her mouth as the other woman removed her earring before pressing the handset against her ear.

-Hello?

-You don’t seem to be a fan of fire, are you Avis? – the insolence of this man! To call her and mock her like this, filled her entire being with fury, eyes narrow and hard, locked onto Ellen’s figure but without actually seeing her. How fucking dare he! She could almost feel the way he was smiling as he addressed her, as if he held the upper hand during this conversation. He knew perfectly well that this little stunt had caused an uproar, and that she had not appreciated it in the slightest, but to call her at the office when the cable girls had every strict orders to not let any unsolicited numbers through meant this wasn’t a simple inquiry about her health, per se. Even through the cloth he was clearly using to disguise himself, Avis could hear the sounds of cars in the distance, random honks breaking the otherwise silent air around this man. She bit back with all the rage she could muster, making her words sharp, as if they could draw out blood.

-Who’s this?!

-Oh, please, do I need an introduction? I thought that my little present had been enough, but maybe I was wrong.

-Who are you?! What do you want?!

-Now, now, there’s no rush. No need to become so emotional, my dear woman. Did you like the cross? It was made out of the best wood.

-You think that a thing like that can scare me?! Well, you are wrong. I have put up with worse shit than that.

-I suspected as much. You can be so stubborn Avis. That’s why I have taken the liberty of doing something special for you. – her head was cold, ice in her veins at the sound of his words. They were dangerous, spoken in such a low deep voice that a shiver of terror ran down her back. This was it; she could feel it in her bones, the dread she had been holding onto all night spreading to every cell, from the top of her head to the tip of her fingers and toes, horror overtaking the rage that had glazed her eyes. She could see the danger she had been running away from standing before her in a dark cloak that hid its features, a sharp dagger in its hand waiting to rip her to shreds. He had caught up with her at last. Ellen’s heart dropped to her stomach the instant she saw the shift in Avis’s entire demeanour, needing to place a hand over the desk to keep herself upright as all colour drained from her friend’s face. And then those cursed words slipped out of his lips and the world crumbled around Avis. - You did not say how pretty she looks when unconscious.

-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

-So temperamental. I simply made sure to have an incentive so you would cooperate. What are you willing to do to make sure I don’t hurt this pretty young thing you seem so taken with, Avis? Would you kill? Would you die?

-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER! – she was panicking, she could not describe it any other way. Her heart was two seconds away from bursting in anger and fear, making her breaths so hurried that even though air was going through them she felt as if there was no oxygen reaching her brain. They had taken you! They couldn’t be sure she would do what they desired after threatening part of the cast and her own daughter, so they had kidnapped you. Every fibre of her being was screaming in agony at the thought of you being locked somewhere, in the dark, rats scurrying through the corners of the room while you cried and begged for help, beaten and bruised. Her heart almost bled through her clothes as she imagined your broken voice calling her name.

-I won’t if you comply with my requests.

-You think you can call me and make demands?! Who the hell do you think you are?!

-Careful, Avis, are you sure you are in a position to anger me and deny me my every wish? My finger can slip so easily and pull the trigger of my gun. – her breath hitched in her lungs, the grip on the phone so strong that she felt as if the plastic could shatter in between her fingers. She had to calm down, she couldn’t let her temper cloud her mind and risk your safety, as much as she hated being threatened and bullied. His words had left no room for hope of your release unless she complied, knowing that if he didn’t get what he wanted, he would kill you without mercy and dump your body somewhere for bears or wild dogs to eat. After a moment of resolution, she spoke again, voice quieter, levelled.

-What are your requests?!

-I knew you would understand. I want you to cancel the production of Meg for good, and to take all the rolls of film, every single scene you have, to the forest close to Hollywood station. And don’t even think of pulling any sort of tricks on me and leave some other film instead, because I will know, Avis, and I won’t hesitate to send you the girl’s head all wrapped up in tissue paper.

-If you lay a hand on her, I swear I will find you and destroy you.

-How will you achieve that when you don’t even know who I am? – he was right, she had no idea how to find him, who he was, or where he was calling from. He could be all across the country for all she knew, having used puppets to frighten them and kidnap you with the dark of the night as their cover. His words left a bitter taste on her tongue, but she could find no retort to his statement. In the background the whistle of a train echoed loudly, the sound of its wheels screeching over the tracks for a few seconds before it vanished into the distance, overpowering the silence that had otherwise been in the background throughout the entire conversation. Wherever this man was he had means of escape, she thought, but it all slipped to the back of her mind as he carried on talking. - Don’t play the hero Avis, it doesn’t suit you. Back to business. I also want you to write a binding contract handing the direction of the studio to an unknown party. Leave the name of the new owner blank but sign the document.

-I refuse to do that. One thing it’s the film and another very different is to hand out the entire company to a stranger.

-Does the studio mean more to you than Y/N? Is that what you are saying? Maybe I misinterpreted your actions, and you don’t care enough about her to save her. Makes killing her a much easier task for me.

-NO! DON’T!

-Then leave the document along with the rolls where I said before twelve, and she’ll find her merry way back to you before the day is over.

-Let me talk with her first.

-Why do people always ask for the same thing? It’s as if you don’t trust me.

-Of course, I don’t you fucking psychopath!

-Now, Avis, don’t insult me. I have half a mind to chop one or two of Y/N’s fingers to show you how a lady should behave.

-Please, don’t hurt her, just… - if only she could hear your voice, make sure you were alive, she would push through, no matter what she had to do. Just a chance to talk with you so she could make a choice between what was right and what was easy. This agony that had taken her heart hostage was suffocating, forming a lump in her throat as she fought to keep her voice as steady as possible, slow so he wouldn’t think she was begging more than she already was. - just let me talk with her.

-I suppose I can grant you that. Alright. – there was a ruffling sound on the line, followed by the scratching of something metallic over rough ground, probably cement Avis thought, before it all stopped and the voice of the man reached her ears, the cloth gone from the handset. It sounded familiar, deep, with a gentle tilt around certain letters. She was sure she had heard it before, but it was too far away for her to pinpoint exactly who it belonged to; maybe she was wrong altogether and she was simply trying to find someone to blame all this for that wasn’t herself. - Here, say hello to your mistress.

-Avis? – if she had been shot straight through the heart it would have hurt less. You sounded so weak, so scared and she could do nothing to ease your pain and fears. Tears were pooling on the corner of her eyes, blurring her vision and making Ellen’s shaky form hardly a shape, just blobs of blue tones. The blond was barely holding on as it was, hand on her chest as if that could help her galloping heart slow down.

-Y/N! Oh, God, are you okay? Can you tell me where you are? I shouldn’t have let you leave last night. It’s all my fault.

-Avis, listen to me. Don’t give him shit. You finish that film and show it to the world, and you make sure that everyone knows what these jerks did to try and stop it, what it took. I don’t care if I never make it out of this room; I will die for your chance to fuck them over, and I’ll do it proudly. Just don’t give in. Ever.

-You bitch! – flesh collided with flesh, resonating against the walls of the prison he was keeping you in. The slap had left a sting on your cheek, making your wounds bleed again, dripping hot crimson blood over what once was porcelain skin, now black and blue. She could not get it out of her mind, the sound of your pain, the angry voice of this man, echoing in Avis’s head. It felt as if she had been the one hit, shot over and over without giving her the chance to protect herself, her heart being ripped out of her chest, killing her as a whimper made its way out of your mouth, miserable in the silence that should have accompanied you, but he was moving, maybe circling you, his footsteps hard against the ground. Calling out your name was an involuntary reflex that slipped from her red lips.

-Y/N!

-Don’t look for me, Avis! Don’t let them win! I LOVE YOU!

-Y/N! Y/N!

The line went dead. It didn’t matter how many times she slammed the plunger not a sound came through, your voice the last thing remaining in her ears. It was agony to know that she had put you in harm’s way unknowingly, that your life depended on one single choice that happened to be the most important and most difficult she could make in her life. She did not know whether she wanted to cry or scream, this pain that was clawing at her heart was so raw and profound that it was snatching the air out of her lungs. She had had you in her hands and she had let you slip through her fingers. This was her fault, everything her own stupid fault! If Ellen had not held onto Avis’s upper arms the woman would have collapsed onto the floor, the strength the blond possessed managing to sit her on the couch, the receiver dangling from the desk, forgotten as bitter, sorrowful tears finally broke through Avis’s eyelashes and began to fall. They burnt the same scorching fire she had felt coming from the cross. But the clock was ticking, seconds were passing, minutes following close by and your life hung by a deadline that she had to meet if she wanted you safe. But your words bounce against her skull, making the mental pain so physical that her limbs ached in anguish. “Don’t look for me”. Through her blurry vision, she locked eyes with Ellen, grief lacing her every word.

-Go find Dick. Now.

 Your head was pounding as your eyes blinked open, the semi-unconscious state you were still in making the pain so distant around your body. It was as if you were floating outside of it, but it was short-lived. The world around you swayed from side to side, in circles that made you dizzy, as the confusion of what had happened twirled like rivulets around your many thoughts, snippets of the conversation floating senselessly in your mind as your eyes tried to refocus on the room. It was still the same, dark and gloomy, drops of condensation falling in a steady rhythm from some corner or other, the musty damp smell assaulting your nose along with the metallic stench you were bathed in. Nothing had changed except for the flame that was now burning bright in the oil lantern, allowing you to see the figure of the man sitting opposite your place in the middle of the room, the shadows still hiding his face from you. You did not need to see him to know that he was angry. The simple action of turning your head to observe the floor left you close to unconsciousness again, a sharp pain coming from your temple down to your neck rendering you useless, weak before his predatory eyes. Why had he hit you? You could feel the leftover sting on your manhandled skin, but could not make sense of the why, of anything that was going on in your head, frustrating and disconcerting you as you found yourself as lost as when you had first woken up in here. If only you could calm yourself enough so the pieces of your abused mind could fall into place.

Without warning the man stood, his body towering over yours, the previously bloodied clothes long gone, replaced by a pristine brown suit, but there was one thing wrong. His left shoe was stained in your blood. Of course, you had told Avis not to listen to him and he had got angry, hitting you on the side of your head with his foot after he had slammed the phone against the ground. Little pieces of beige plastic were still scattered on the floor you saw, in between puddles of your own blood, the stains dark against the dirty grey concrete. Everything was falling into place. The conversation, what had happened in front of your building last night, the punches and pushes as he asked you question after question and you didn’t give him the answer he was so looking for. He was running out of time and was becoming increasingly furious at your lack of cooperation, his steps getting closer to you with each passing second. To say that you weren’t scared would have been a lie, the terror spreading all over your body, inch by inch, but you were also determined to succeed in your endeavour. Avis had to finish the film and show the world that the KKK held no power over them, no matter how many threats and blood was spilt, the people had to fight for freedom. If you had to die to achieve it, so be it. At least you had got the chance to tell her that you loved her.

And that simple action made his blood boil; it was clear in his hard cold eyes. They shone so bright amongst the shadows, lies dressed in sky blue to lure you in before he could deliver the final blow. Sweat ran down your arms, beads forming on your forehead that fell in slow motion over your cheeks, from the tip of your nose and fell over the scrapes on your legs, stinging, but you didn’t make a sound. Not this time. His fingers ghosted over your injured shoulder, the heat emanating from him contrasting with how cold you felt, his hand moving up to your neck, but he never actually touched you. Perhaps he didn’t wish to stain his expensive shirt, you thought bitterly. He kept circling you, watching your staggering breaths, a quiet hissing sound breaking from inside you with each puff of air, drinking in the way your body shook even if he wasn’t touching you, harming you in any way, not that he didn’t desire to crush that pretty skull of yours under his shoe. The need to win was overly intoxicating to him, like a drug that was speeding through his system, pumping adrenaline up to his brain. He needed to win, he would ensure he took the studio from her, and the instant that happened, no black person would set foot inside his domains. He would handle Ace when the time came. He was giving you his back, shoulder square, as he observed the flame before he turned around and grabbed your face roughly, a yelp mixing with a painful whimper as the pads of his fingers dug deep over your wounds. The pain blurred your vision as tears gathered behind closed eyelids.

-You think you are so clever, playing this game that you can’t win. Why did you even bother to give her false hope? I will get what I want even if I end up with two dead bodies in my hands.

-All that ego and self-assuredness might come back to bite you in the ass… sir.

His hand released your face, relief washing through every cell in your body, but it was short-lived. Square on the chest his foot made contact with your flesh, the hard sole leaving a bloody imprint on the fabric of your dress. There was no air in your lungs, only agony that spread like wildfire all along your ribs and sternum preventing you from breathing, miserably gasping in failed attempts to get this torture to end. In slow motion, your body tilted back, and it wasn’t until your arms collided against the cold, hard ground, crushing them under the weight of your body and the back of the chair that you realised he had not only hit you, but pushed you as well. From your raw throat, a scream tore through the abused cords, saliva mixing with blood in your mouth as the sound echoed against the bare walls. You had never in your entire life felt something like this, the way your bones seemed to be made out of glass, breaking and shattering all around you, your skin ripping and falling off your body, muscles melting in the scorching white fire that enfolded you, organs failing at doing the most mundane of tasks. The blow could not kill you but if he decided to end your misery now you would have considered it an ounce of mercy that this heartless son of a bitch was willing to give you. But alas he thrived in making you feel like a piece of dirt in his eyes, and he had no intention of destroying you. Not yet anyway. He squatted and bent until his face was inches from yours, a maddening smile on his thin lips as your eyes battled against the spasms that tormented your body, focusing after a moment, finally able to see his features under the flickering light of the flame.

-Remember that your life is not the only one at stake here, Y/N. You failed to tell me how to end her, so now I’m obligated to go and ensure that Avis does what told, making me lose precious time. I do not like being played with and I do not wish for things to get any messier, it takes so much work to clean up after, so be a good girl and stay put and quiet. – it could not be. He had been around you and Avis for years, his glances and discriminatory words floating around the studio as if he was addressing the state of the stock market, and neither of you hadn’t suspected a thing, but of course, it had to be him, no one else gained something from making so much noise about this entire situation. It had made no sense, but laying here now, your body broken and bleeding in despair, mind foggy and dizzy as the pain still rippled through your veins, you realised that everything that had led up to this moment, that first instant that had sparked it all, had been staring at you from the very beginning. You should have seen it coming, you thought, his breath stinking of alcohol and those dammed cigars that you despised so much, but he had played his cards too well, hiding in plain sight. No one would have thought it could have reached this point. Coming to stand to his full height he observed you manically, eyes almost twitching as he assessed you, thinking about what he could do with you before his shoe collided with your head again and the world turned black. Perhaps next time he knocked you unconscious you would not wake up, he thought gleefully, a trickle of your blood falling from your nose onto the concrete. – Well, no one is going to hear you now for sure.

On the wall the clock ticked, marking each passing second as a companion to Avis’s steps over the carpet, a constant rhythm that grated on her nerves as the anguish that had overtaken her senses clouded her mind. The skin around her nails was bitten, broken and in some areas bleeding slowly around the bright red of her nails, stains of her lipstick marking the spots where her mouth had made contact with her fingers, anxiety bringing forth a habit she had tried to quit since little. Every thought was a turmoil of emotions and actions that left her confused, unsteady on her feet, pacing up and down her office while Dick and Henry argued over this and that, background noise to her. She could not get your voice out of her mind, the way the pain laced every word, the way she could hear the rawness of your throat and the whizzing of your breathing against the receiver. It was like a dagger was slicing through her chest with every passing second, digging deeper and deeper, staining her clothes in sticky hot blood, dripping from her hands in agony as the conversation replied in her mind with no chance of escape. She had never meant for any of this to happen, to put you in harm’s way like this when the only thing her heart desired was to simply be with you. She should have known that Meg would bring consequences of this calibre, she should have been prepared, and yet she was caught completely off guard by it all, cursing her own existence as the sound of your pleading but determined words banged against her skull. The touch of a gentle pair of hands on top of her shoulders forced her to halt her train of thought, turning her head slightly to the right to see Ellen’s kind eyes staring back at hers.  

-Why don’t you sit down? You are going to wear a hole in the carpet with all this pacing.

She was right. The constant motion all over her office was not doing anything at calming her nerves, she wasn’t even paying attention to what Dick was saying, ideas and questions that flew over her head and never received an answer. She could not afford to let her mind get lost in her grief, she had to push it all aside and find a way. She could not lose you; it would kill her. The blond’s tender touch and warm smile made it easy for Avis to turn her body away from the doors, walking in between the coffee table and the couch until Ellen pushed her slowly against the leather, letting her body fall over the cushions. It was a beautiful contrast to the battlefield inside this room the way that her friend’s voice never rose in volume, never berated her or asked things of her that Avis knew she could not give, it was as if two polar opposites were residing inside this office and she was caught in between them, the compassion that exuded from Ellen’s body with each movement she made, settling herself beside the ginger on the couch and the tumultuous and loud atmosphere that surrounded the two men, like a fire that was sure to consume her if she got too close. Her brown eyes watched them all, but her ears could not pick up words or sentences, only the rage that poured out of Dick and the nonchalant air that came from Henry’s uncaring eyes. He didn’t understand, he didn’t know Y/N like they did, like she did; to him, she was just a name with no face that he would not cry about at the end of the day. And that single thought fuelled the fire that had stood dormant in her chest, exactly what she had needed to spring into action, the previous hazy world around her now moving at the speed of light, eyes locked furiously on the two males that still ranted before her.

-We can’t just let that man get what he wants! This film is far too important, you’ve said it a thousand times, Dick!

-That was before a woman’s life was on the line! We can’t just simply say no to his demands and let him kill her! For God’s sake Henry, think a little!

-I am thinking, you are the one who’s letting his emotions fill your argument! If we give him the film and the studio what guarantees us that that girl won’t be killed anyway?!

-Nothing, but that doesn’t mean that we have to abandon her! We can’t just give up! What do we do, Henry, don’t put up a fight and try to make a deal? Or reach an agreement so a woman won’t fucking die?!

-We listen to her! The girl told us not to give into his demands, isn’t that right Mrs. Amberg? – everyone’s eyes were on her, waiting, breaths held. The girl is really what he addressed you as? It’s that what he thought of you, that you were just some random girl the studio had hired? You had a name, you were not just a number on a long list of paychecks that had to be delivered at the end of the month, and she refused to let him forget it. With a deep sigh, Avis finally spoke for what seemed like the first time in hours.

-Y/N said to make the film, to show it to the world.

-See?

-But we won’t.

-What?! – she closed her eyes at the sound of his raised voice, grimacing at the sound for a moment. She understood that this was his big opportunity, that this film would put him out there as a producer and cancel it meant going back to the position he had all his life, but she couldn’t quite comprehend why he was so adamant about continuing when everyone else seemed to understand that the best thing was to halt it all, maybe even to end it here and now, that this wasn’t just a threat and a menacing phone call. A woman had a gun to her head for all she knew. His unwillingness to see that this was the right choice unnerved and angered Avis, but she tried her best to keep her voice steady and neutral.

-I don’t care about how much this fucking movie might change the world or help the minorities. That was the main argument before, but not now. I am not willing to lose her for something that will end up picking up dust on a shelf once theatres either stop showing it or refuse to do it in the first place.

-You can’t be serious! We’ll lose all the money we’ve invested, all the money that we’ve given to those magazines to cover up for your indiscretions. Everything down the drain when this girl told us to carry on! This is insane!

-No! What’s insane is how willing you are to throw her under the bus! This is a person we are talking about, a fucking human being that means the entire fucking universe to me! I don’t care how many rolls of film get burnt, or if the entire building collapses as long as we get her out of wherever that psychopath has her!

-And the studio? Do we hand that to him on a silver platter as well? What would Mr. Amberg say if he woke up and saw that his life’s work was in the hands of some stranger?!

-BUT HE’S NOT HERE! THIS IS MY STUDIO AND I HAVE THE LAST WORD! – the glass of scotch she had left on the table shook under the force with which she slammed her fist over the wood, creaking slightly where her hand was resting. She was fucking exhausted of everyone bringing up her husband any chance they got. She was in charge now, not him, and she couldn’t give less of a fuck about what he would do or not do! She was not going to let anyone get killed for a fucking film, no matter how important it may be! She was Avis fucking Amberg, not some random clerk from a shop, and she would be dammed fi she was going to let anyone tell her what to do and then hit her with the “What would Ace say” card when things didn’t go their way. This was her choice to make, and only hers, and she had already made up her mind about the whole situation he instant that man had phoned. If henry didn’t like it, he could quit and cry about it in his own fucking house like the child he seemed to be. Inside the room silence filled every crack and crevice, the only sound that could be heard being Avis’s angry hurried breaths and the ticking of the clock, a constant reminder that the longer this argument took the closer you were to Death. Dick could not even bring himself to speak, shock clear in his face at Avis’s sudden outburst while Henry’s words rang in his head like a broken record. This was such a mess.   

-So that’s it? You were so willing to carry on and now… puff… we bend over the desk and let them fuck us?! And here I thought that you would change things Avis. What a fool I was.

-Why can’t you understand, Henry, that this is no longer about the studio or the film? This is a personal vendetta against all of us, against me, and Y/N doesn’t deserve to die because of it.

-Except that she clearly stated she would take one for the team and protect you, the studio, and Meg. You told us she said to not look for her, that she would die proudly if it meant inching closer to destroying these people. Do you really want to risk everyone and everything for her!?

-Henry. – Ellen’s voice held none of the warmth she had used with Avis, quite the opposite. Her tone was a warning one, as if she was giving him the chance to retract himself and leave it all be before he said something he would regret, but he could not stop now that he had began to pour all his frustrations out. He might get fired for this, he thought, but he had to protect his interests, his own future and that of the studio, even if it meant standing up to Avis and Dick.

-No, Ellen. Her life is not the only one hanging on by a thread! Archie and Camille could have been easily murdered. Hell, you and your daughter could have been shot in the middle of the night while in bed, Avis! If we give up now, if we give in, the world will still be the same, with its injustices, its reign of terror and fear, with no chance of fixing that which we have broken in the first place. Nothing will have changed, and the girl might still die.

-Enough, Henry! I wouldn’t do it; I can’t do it. I’m sorry, but this is personal now.

-God, Avis, you are being unreasonable! If this is all just a vendetta against you and not just a persecution for breaking the Hays Code, who even would gain something by doing all this, huh, tell me?! Who would want to kidnap her and make such demands?!

-Someone from the studio.

Dick’s words echoed in the room for a few seconds, ringing curiously inside her head before a commotion in the hallway made it fall to the back of everyone’s mind. Miss Stinton voice reached their ears, distressed, struggling hard to keep someone away from the office, but it was a lost battle, and with a huff and the sound of her back colliding with the edge of the desk, Lon’s figure crossed the threshold as if he owned the place, briefcase in hand and that look of superiority bathing his features. God, not him, Avis thought. She could not deal with him right now. He would start talking all his bullshit, making them lose precious time, trying to convince her of doing things his way as if that was the only logical option, and she really didn’t want to lose her temper and tell him anything about what was going on with Y/N. She could almost see him using that information to berate her and act like the entitled son of a bitch he was. Her hand still laid on the table in a fist, but her eyes didn’t land on it, they observed the liquid amber that was still left in the glass, a rim of the spilled drink surrounding it, probably staining the wood already. In frustration she picked it up and took a sip, her body partially turned away from him since Henry was standing before her big desk, opposite the doors.

-Don’t get up.

-I won’t. – her eyes rolled of their own accord, his voice already grating on her nerves as his feet firmly planted over the edge of the carpet, standing before them as he tried to make himself seem taller, bigger. Did he think he stood a chance of cowering Avis down by using that macho act? Dick had to give it to him if he truly thought he could. He supposed that being delusional could be an acquired skill after so many years of being a cunt.

-In light of recent events I’ve come to inform you that production on Meg must be halted.

-Didn’t I fire you weeks ago? - The fucking cheek he had to use that condescending tone in her own office!  

-You don’t have that power. I work for Mr. Amberg.

-That is out of line. – Dick stepped in like a spring, getting closer to the man in hopes of stopping him from heading the way he knew he was heading. The air was thick with tension, hot air swaying in between them as Avis’s frame became straighter on her spot, the grip on her glass so hard that Ellen was nearly counting the seconds it would take to shatter.

-Refusing to shut this picture down is out of line. Mrs. Amberg leaves me no option but to take legal action.

That was it! She had put up with him for years, smiling politely at his comments, swallowing her pride each time he jabbed at her lack of a job or power, laughing at her with his smirks and stabbing words about Ace’s affairs. She had been a lady and had taken it all for the sake of the studio, of her husband’s reputation. He was a cruel, perverted man, that much became clear when he had tried to get his way with you at the New Year’s Eve party, but after Ace’s heart attack he had become so full of himself, as if the world owed him and he could get whatever he wanted with just one word. He had tried his best to wear her down enough that she would quit, and she had considered it once or twice, but for him to come here when she was already furious enough about everything that was going on and tell her that he was taking this to a fucking judge! She couldn’t do whatever she fucking desired in her own fucking studio?! The glass in her hand was slammed onto the table once more, the scotch dripping off the rim as she stood in fury, Ellen’s hands stretching to grab her, but to no avail; she was too far away.

-This is my studio.

-I recognise that this is emotional for you. With all that’s been happening, you are not thinking clearly.

-Oh. – he was trying to play a game of fake sympathy, she noticed, the term emotional tilting slightly as he said it, almost mockingly. Two could play at that. Lulling her head gently to the side she smiled sweetly at him, lacing her every word with a fake kindness and sugary tone, dripping thickly like honey over his entire body, purposely tripping him. - A woman makes a decision and suddenly she’s irrational.

-No, no, That’s not… I didn’t mean to…

-Yes, you did! You waltz in here whenever you desire to remind me that you are there, always watching. – every step was meticulously planned, slow in execution, but it made him visibly shake as the gap between them became less and less. Yes, Lon, fear me, she thought, you will all know who I am, soon enough. -By the time you get your ducks in a row for our little date in court, my picture will be in the can. – anger glazed his eyes, fingers twitching around his briefcase, but he didn’t raise a hand to her, no matter how much he desired to. Avis’s triumphant smile was almost too much for him, the way she thrived in her victory, but he could not let his temper get the best of him; no, she had made her choice, and he would abide by her wishes. No one in the room moved, no one dared speak as the tension built higher, close to a breaking point. Her big brown eyes raked over his face wishing she could photograph and frame his expression, taking notice of an injury on his cheek, as if he had been scratched, the wounds fresh and reddened over his pale skin but she didn’t care much for it. It was the sudden change in his features that disturbed her, the way his eyes turned darker, manic almost, as if he had got exactly what he wanted from her, opening a door for him that she could not see. The dread that had accompanied her all morning spiked as his semblance obscured, almost as if she could smell danger in the air, but before it all sank in, he was gone in a wind whirl of brown, the flaps of his jacket ruffling as he walked down the hallway. - See you in court, Lon!

Henry’s smile could have lit up the entire building, no, the whole city, as she watched Lon leave before turning her body around. Ellen and Dick stared at the door for a few moments, shocked, the latter with his arms crossed over his chest in offense, before their eyes moved and settled on Avis’s form. She hoped this little stunt would keep him off her back for some time. There were too many things she had to worry about, and she couldn’t deal with him knocking on her door every five minutes to demand things from her.

-So, we are doing it? – oh, well, fuck. She sighed deeply, a hand travelling to her forehead to rub the skin as this pressure began to build behind her eyes, a headache developing. Her words had been clear as day, there was no room for mistakes or misunderstandings, no wonder the man had seemed so happy. She hated to burst his bubble, but it was obvious that she had misstepped, and needed to retreat back to what the conversation had been before Lon had so unexpectedly barged in.

-No, Henry, we are not doing it, I already told you this. The film is going to be cancelled.

-Then why the hell did you say that to Mr. Silver?!

-To get him off my case! You’ve seen him, you know how he behaves when he’s in here. I was not going to miss the chance to shut him up and get him off my back before he found out about the kidnapping as well. We can’t afford to lose more time than what we’ve already lost with this stupid argument!

-It’s not stupid! The studio has invested too much in Meg to just destroy it!

-And I have invested too much in what I have with Y/N to betray her and let her die! What would you do if the love of your life had a gun to her head, Henry? Would you let the executioner pull the trigger without putting up a fight? Wouldn’t you do anything to save them even if it hurt to give in?

-I… I… - he didn’t know what to answer to that. Avis’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, making them look so big but so broken that something inside him seemed to crack. His mind had been so clouded by the ambition, the need to prove that the film could become his first great work, that he was worth the title of producer, that it had blinded him. They were right, a roll of film wasn’t worth the murder of innocent people, though he had to admit that hearing Avis declare herself before them all without caring about the open doors was not something he had imagined would ever happen. No one like Avis would ever do something of this sort unless her heart was involved somehow. The back of his knees hit the armrest of the couch, his body sitting on it gently as with his hands he rubbed his face before threading his fingers through his hair in defeat. Giving his back to the room he did not see how Ellen had stood and taken Avis by her hands, steading the woman, nor the way Dick rubbed her back and whispered to her in an attempt to calm her racing heart, one single tear rolling down her cheek. – I don’t know what I would do.

-You would try to find out who did it, - her voice was stern, hard in the delivery of each word, as if she was throwing them at Henry, but upon noticing his defeated stance her voice became gentler, though it didn’t lose that anger that seemed to be part of her at this point. She was just so tired. - but we don’t have that kind of time now, so you simply give them what they want.

-And even if we had time we wouldn’t even know where to start. Who is he? How does he know so much? Why is he doing all this?

-I already told you. -Dick moved away from both women, pouring himself a drink before heading back to the couch, glass resting on top of the leather after taking a sip. - It’s someone from the studio; there’s no other possibility.

-If that is so…

-Let me explain myself first, Ellen. – the woman nodded her head to let him continue, dropping the other woman’s hands to sit herself down after she had pointed at the couch with her head and her friend had shaken hers politely. After so many years Avis had realised that she could think better when she was in motion, her feet moving from side to side as she listened intently to what Dick had to say. Henry had perked up as well, looking over his shoulder. – It has to be someone who knows what’s going on with Ace, otherwise, they would not risk asking Avis to hand out the studio just like that. True that this doesn’t mean that they work here, but during the phone call that man said that he would know if we gave him the wrong film. He must have some way of watching it and some way of checking that we don’t have Meg anymore. Someone inside this building has access to the necessary equipment and to the vaults where the rolls as stored, but it can’t be some boy from the canteen or some script reader. The only logical answer that I can find is that the person who has Y/N and left those crosses is someone close to us who will gain everything he’s ever wanted by getting you, Avis, to cancel Meg and give him the company.    

-That doesn’t leave that many people. Most of the crew working on the film don’t possess enough wit and power to even consider pulling such a stunt, so that leaves, us and Ace’s boys. We can’t consider some of our business partners because they haven’t called to inquire about any of this yet, so they might not know, besides, what would they do with a studio when they are lawyers and finance people?

With her eyes cast down towards the floor, she could not help feeling that Dick was right, that the answer was right in front of them, as if something was preventing her from figuring it all out, a piece of the puzzle missing from her sight and yet so close. The pads of her fingertips patted her lower lip, her left hand on her hip as she paced over the carpet with slow steps letting his words sink into her brain. If Dick was right and it was someone they knew, they might have given this man information willingly, from deep secrets about the studio to loopholes that they were using to make films at lesser costs, not to mention all the personal things they might have shared. And in all that she was not counting what Ace might have said to this unknown man. But the clock was still ticking, and they had to gather the film, and inform everyone that the picture was cancelled all while she still had to write a contract that some solicitor was willing to sign, twelve o’clock getting closer and closer faster than she wanted. The carpet was of a light beige tone, and it complemented the dark wood of the room beautifully, but that harmonious balance of colours was disturbed by a stain in the shape of a shoe. She grunted in disgust, crouching to get a better look at it, noticing that although it was dark there was a certain reddish tone to it. Her heart hammered against her ribs as with trembling hands the finger that had been around her hip touched the substance, wet on her skin.

It was recent. Coming to stand all the chatter that had filled the office dropped into a silence so deep that she could have heard a pin drop, curious looks falling on her body.  Under the light of day that was coming from the window her fingers shone with a deep ruby tone, and upon sniffing the thick liquid her nose picked up the strong metallic essence that she knew so well. There was a blood stain on her carpet. In shock she took a couple of steps back, the emotion written all over her face as she kept her hand at a distance from her body. Dick and Henry took notice of the way Avis was holding herself and rushed to ask what was wrong, but she could not find the words to say it, simply pointing with crimson fingers at the stain. Oh, God, she had someone’s blood on her skin! Her frame shook, rushing to take a handkerchief out of her pocket and wipe her fingers as clean as she could. Her mind was working overtime now, thinking of who could have stepped in here with stained shoes, noting that neither Dick nor Henry’s were dirty in the slightest, but the footprint was clearly that of a man and the only other person that had set foot in this room all morning had been…

There was a spark in her synapsis, as if two loose cables had finally met. Of course, she knew what was behind all this, he had never been quiet about how much he hated her and how much he had wanted her out of his way, but to think he would reach this point to get what he wanted? She had suspected he was part of the KKK ever since he had voiced his disagreement at Ace hiring black people at the studio, the threats and disappearances that would happen soon after her husband dismissed his “worries”. It had been happening for years, and no one had taken notice because it hadn’t affected them, but he was escalating things now, and he wasn’t being subtle or quiet about it. In her head she replayed the entire conversation she had just had with him, analysing every detail, from the way he had carried himself to the delivery of each word, looking for anything that could confirm it was him and that she was not in the wrong here. His entire behaviour had turned so dark and dangerous after she had told him she was going to carry on with the film, a reaction she had not expected in the slightest when she was used to temper tantrums like him bursting out of the room or threats that he would speak to Ace. That entire act he had put on just now was that of a completely different person. Her body was shaking, remembering the way his tongue had tilted slightly when he had said the word “emotional”, the exact same way the voice on the phone had tilted his, and as the realisation sank in, she felt her knees grow weak and her legs give up on her, her body falling on top of the couch cushions.

She had been so sure she had heard that voice somewhere before, that she knew the man it belonged to, but to become aware that the person she had heard when the cloth had been removed from the receiver was him felt like a bucket of freezing water had been poured over her head. Everything and everyone were absolutely blurry around her, like the world was speeding while she remained still, frozen in time with her eyes glued to the redness she had not been able to wipe from her fingers. He had played her, and she had fallen straight into his trap. She had been an absolute fool to think that he had been treating her this way out of spite because Ace hadn’t left him in charge, when it was obvious he had been working slowly on this whole thing for years, gaining more power with each conversation he had with her husband until he had found the perfect opportunity to strike. With her out of the way, Meg cancelled and him as head of the studio, he only had one obstacle left that he could conveniently get rid of with one simple chat with Ace’s doctor. He had been meticulous, organizing and planning every step down to a t, but at the same time he had been messy, perhaps he had begun to get nervous and that had caused him to slip up, the simple detail of a stain on her carpet exactly where he had stood moments ago, shattering his perfectly crafted cover up.

 There was no doubt in her mind. The cross was but a warning that something worse was coming, and as Dick and Henry pointed at the floor and told Ellen in serious voices that it was blood, the blond woman nearly fainting on the spot, Avis felt the weight of the words crushing her. He had your blood on his shoes, she had your blood on her fingers, wet and sticky over her skin. It was cold to the touch, yes, but it was recent, just like the scratches on his cheeks, meaning she might still have the chance and time to find you before the appointed time and in extent to not have to give in to this man’s demands. Without thinking about it twice she jumped off the couch, the sound making both men turn their heads away from the floor to look at the fury that burnt Avis’s whole body.

-I know who’s doing all this. – their expectant eyes bore holes into her body, but she didn’t care. Her hands had turned into fists, knuckles white while her face became red with rage, every word she said next spat with as much venom as she could muster from deep within her. – It’s been Lon fucking Silver all along.

-What? Are you sure, Avis? That’s a very serious actuation.

-I have never been so sure of anything in my life, Dick. That son of a bitch has my girlfriend somewhere in this city and I’m going to find her! I don’t care what it takes, but that man won’t see the light of day if I have a say in it. – she was going to fight this until her last breath, for you, for herself, for everyone in the studio and for her right to do whatever she desired in her own fucking house! She was even fighting for Ace at this point, regardless of the life they had had together, she wasn’t going to lose everything he had fought so hard to create to a man that had threatened their daughter. With her hand digging hard into the younger man’s arm she locked eyes with him. - Henry, I need you to find me a list of properties under Lon’s name, can you do that?

-I know a guy who owes me. Give me fifteen minutes and I can give you the homes of his parents and cousins as well.

-Get to it, then. – her steps were determined, hard against the floor, and she did not stop walking until she was standing behind her dark wooden desk, Henry dialling an unknown number. The sun shone from the window opposite the door, bright beams breaking through the glass and bathing her in the hot light, but she did not feel it. The rage and fury that was coursing through her veins and that consumed her every cell could match the fire of every star in the universe, her palms firmly pressed against the table as her eyes lifted forward to look at Ellen and Dick, their expressions serious. - Avis Amberg has just entered the playing field.

A droplet of water fell from the ceiling, its crystal surface reflecting the light of the flame as it flew slowly through the air. Another one followed soon after, it’s gentle surface tense as it fell. And another, all freezing to the touch, sliding easily down to the floor. The tapping rhythm danced around your ears, a comforting sound although, as your mind began to wake up, the feeling wasn’t so, slimy water running over your cheek, making it past your lips without touching them, but only barely. It didn’t feel as if you had been unconscious for too long this time, maybe your body was getting used to it, but soon it would reach a point from which you would not return. The light of the flame flickered in senseless shapes through your still-closed eyelids, casting shadows that you didn’t want to face. He might be hiding among them. But everything was quiet around you, there was no sign that he was still in the room or somewhere in the vicinity, only your ragged breathing and the tapping of the water droplets breaking the deafening silence. You could not decide if you preferred it this way. Trying to move brought on a wave of agony that sliced through every muscle and bone in your body, forcing you to stop what little you had done to catch your breath as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. You felt weak, useless, and knowing that he had gone to talk with Avis, left a void of despair and worry that threatened to consume you, and you just didn’t have the strength to fight the dark. But as you turned your head, hissing at the way your shoulder and neck throbbed you saw it. Sunshine was coming through the ajar door.

Against your bruised ribs your heart raced, battling against your sternum for release as your eyes locked onto a ray of hope. He must have accidentally left it like that when he left. You didn’t know how long it would take him to get to the studio and back, but if you could get on your feet, you might have the chance to at least make out into the street or wherever you were. It might be your one and only chance, no matter the pain. The chair you were tied to proved to be a most inconvenient obstacle, but the knots that held the ropes in place around your wrists were too strong for you to try and release your hands from, so you would have to make do. Turning your body onto your right side would be the best option, you thought, even though that was the side where your dislocated shoulder was; a small price to pay for freedom. The first attempt left you panting and still on your back, cursing at the heaviness that had gathered in your limbs, but you weren’t going to give up. With your feet flat against the ground, or as flat as you could get them, and using your palms and elbows for leverage, you pushed against the concrete, your core contracting hard as you made use of your abs to give yourself the last needed thrust, meeting cold dirty floor against your cheek, your arm squashed under your bodyweight. Yes! But the victory was only in your mind for a second or two before a hot white fire spread from the tips of your fingers to the top of your head, making tears run down your cheeks in anguish and pain. The feeling left you completely drained, a scream wanting to escape from your chapped and bloodied lips, but you couldn’t draw any attention to yourself; you still weren’t sure he wasn’t around somewhere, and had to be very careful, which also meant quiet.

After a few moments of catching your breath, a dull pressure building underneath your lungs, the pain began to subside enough for your eyes to focus on the door. It was right there, maybe three or four feet from you, if you could only get up, the worst part would be over. You hadn’t noticed the way you were rolling in puddles of your own blood, the movements careless as they made wounds that had stopped bleeding hours ago begin to seep crimson hot liquid over your ruined dress and purple skin. The taste of metal was beginning to overwhelm your tongue as you swallowed what little saliva you were producing, reducing the soreness and dryness of your throat a little. Laying on your side you realised you wouldn’t be able to stand this way, your arm unable to be used as leverage, but your mind was working overtime against an invisible clock and the idea of laying on your front and trying to kneel didn’t seem so stupid after thinking about it for a moment. You wouldn’t be losing anything by trying. Slowly you pressed the side of your chest onto the ground, releasing your arm from under your body, and practically let the weight of the chair finish turning you around. This step had been the easiest of them all, but you could not stay like this for too long. As much as you needed the rest, the metal would end up crushing you, so after sending a prayer up to the heavens, your feet lay flat on the ground. The posture was weird, to say the least, but you weren’t being photographed by the New York Times, the only thing that mattered was getting your legs to cooperate and push your body into a sitting position, from then on standing would be child’s play.

But the chair pushed you back onto the concrete again and again, and the frustration and anger were beginning to rush through your body like lava, burning everything in its path. You had come so far, you finally had the life you had always wanted with the woman you had always dreamt of; you weren’t willing to let it all end like this, with a quick “I love you” screamed through a telephone without knowing if she was alright, if your death would even mean something to the world. It would not end this way! Adrenaline coursed through your veins and in a burst of anger, tears running down your bloodied cheeks, your legs pushed your entire body weight until they burnt, the pressure and pain in your stomach as you lifted yourself nearly making you vomit but alas you were sitting on the fucking chair facing the door through grunts and hurried pants. Your entire frame was shaking but you knew that if you stopped to breathe and calm yourself you were risking not being able to leave. The way your knees buckled as you stood, the chair forcing you to bend so you would be able to walk, nearly sent you back to the floor, but you would not allow it, and with each trembling step, the door came closer and closer until finally your eyes were able to make out a corridor bathed in warm sunlight through the crack. You could do it, if your foot slipped in between the door and the frame you might be able to push it open, but it was heavier than you thought, and the minutes passed as your legs bled and shook, your heart beating faster than ever.

You had come so far; you could not let some fucking door win. It screeched, the sound leaving a ringing in your ears, your knees and feet pushing it until at last you were able to get your left shoulder to help, delivering one final jab that allowed the hallway to come into view. The sudden burst of light inside the room forced your eyes to close for an instant, blinking slowly to adjust to it all. The walls were old, bare, except for the peeling wallpaper that left wooden beams exposed to the thick air that floated around you. The ceiling had cracks, plaster covered in black mold, and spots that marked heavy water damage, but the thing that your eyes searched for was right at the other end. A white door with a worn brass knob. Relief washed over you as through the glass you saw green trees, the pine scent almost reaching your nostrils, a weak but genuine smile creeping up on the corners of your lips. Taking one step, your bare feet felt the scratchiness of the old worn carpet, fragments of plaster and wood under your toes, but it didn’t matter. Another step and the door to a bathroom appeared to your right, tiles damaged and shattered in the darkness of the windowless room. And just as you were about to take a third step, the door less than six feet from you, the figure of a man covered the glass on the door, his brown suit visible through the cracks on the transparent glazing. Eyes watched in terror as the knob turned, and with a squeak, followed by a loud screech, you came face to face with him. For a split-second worry had covered his features, as if he had been deep in thought, but upon seeing you standing there, clearly trying to escape, it all became rage and fury, his hands slamming the door behind him as he removed his jacket. Your legs hardly responded as you tried to back away from him, but even if they had he was taller and gaining on you faster than you had anticipated, hands ready to grab you by the throat, his eyes manically wide while yours were filled with horror.  The sound of your terrified “NO!” echoed throughout the forest.

But your love never heard it. Your pleas and tears never reached Avis, no matter how loud they were, she remained deaf to the noise that echoed miles away. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel it. Her heart jumped in her chest, a strange tingling spreading all throughout her body that told her they were running out of time, almost as if she could sense your pain and agony through her own blood, feel the danger you were in. The clock on the wall kept ticking with each passing second, and she was still no closer to finding you than before she had figured out who was doing all this, the dread beginning to cloud her judgment. She had half a mind to take her car and drive all along the train tracks until she found something, however little it may be that could take her to you.

-Why is it taking so long?! Henry!

-Avis, please, let the boy do his job.

The way her hands were holding onto the edge of the desk should have made the wood shatter, fingers purple and white, her eyes remaining glued to the younger man as he wrote on a notepad while talking to some guy called Jonathan. It had been a little bit over fifteen minutes, and the appointed time to meet Lon was barely an hour away. She needed to figure out where you were, and she needed to do it now! Ellen tried to sooth her, but her hands rubbing circles on the other woman’s hand served no purpose other than to make Avis even more anxious, wishing she would stop. Dick on the other hand knew better than to try and be comforting, he simply waited on the side, nursing his glass of gin, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention. Every nod from Henry, every twitch of his upper lip as his hands travelled over the paper before him, told a different story that Dick was reading. Henry was a resourceful man, he could not deny it, but he wondered how it had come to be so, why so many people owed him favours, and why he was always so ready for the payback that would soon follow.   

-Make sure that no one finds out about this. See you around, John– placing the receiver back in place, Henry stood from the chair with a triumphant smile on his face, dangling the pad in his hand as if he was holding onto a fucking Oscar. Avis tried to grab it, but he pulled it back, the woman about to bark at him only to see Dick making his way towards the boy and taking it, eyes reading the addresses provided. The young man didn’t bother asking for it back, even if she was murdering him with her eyes. –Lon has three houses here in Hollywood, one near his office, another near the studio, that apparently, he’s been furnishing lately, and another that he’s renting to some couple from Missouri that’s close to Santa Monica Boulevard.   

-None of those places have train stations or train tracks near them! I know what I heard, and I know I’m not wrong. It’s him! He must be using someone else’s place.

-If you let me finish, – she gave him a hard glare but let him continue, nevertheless. This was still an opportunity for him, she knew that she would owe him in the future, and she wouldn’t be able to say no to whatever he demanded, but if it saved your life, she would do it, as frustrating as it would be. She hated debts, and Henry could be a snake when he wanted to, a fact he was both aware and proud of. - John told me that Lon’s parents bought a property, about fifteen years ago, perhaps a mile south of Hollywood Station. It was supposed to be a retirements home, but they never remodelled it, so it’s been sitting there half-demolished since they signed the deed.   

-Where exactly? -she could recall Ace having a map of the city somewhere around his desk. He had shown it to her several times when they had discussed possible placements for their house before they had decided to buy and then renovate, or when arguing about which hotels to consider when housing foreign actors or producers. Her hands pulled drawer after drawer open, rummaging through contracts and scripts that she should have thrown away weeks ago, pens and pencil stabbing her fingers as she crumpled the papers underneath them. There were rubber bands and staplers, along with clips and other nonsense, scattered in between ink bottles that she threw onto the desk carelessly in her attempt to find the goddam thing. But it was Ellen, after Avis had squatted to open a drawer, removing about three folders and causing the documents to nearly spill onto the floor, who saw the colourful corner of a leaflet and quickly pulled on it. It read “Map of Hollywood City” in big bold white letters, and she hurriedly laid it on top of everything else while exclaiming that she had found it. At the sound Avis’s hand slammed the drawer closed and pulled herself to her full height, helping the blond unfold the huge map. All four of them hovered over the desk, but it was Henry’s hands the only ones who moved over the laminated paper.

-The train Station is right here. – he pointed at a mark close to the lower left corner. -If we travel down east for a mile or so, we get to “Ruben’s Road”. So, if we head south for maybe half a mile, about six hundred feet from the train tracks, we should find a house. Exactly in this spot. – his thin fingers hovered over the drawing of a house, alone on the edge of the woods with cursive blue writing underneath that read “Silver Cottage”. It had to be there; her eyes could not find a single other mark, all throughout the forest’s edge, that was close enough to the tracks that might make the train sound as loudly as she had heard it through the phone, and that could suggest another possible area he could have taken you to. Lifting her gaze, she smiled at Henry, but only briefly before her entire demeanour became cold, determine to get to the end of the line with this matter, her deep brown eyes filled with anticipation and resolve as they fell onto the other man’s frame. His face was concentrated on the plan ahead.

-Gather the boys, Dick, and meet me at the cottage. – she could count on him to have her back. He knew his way around guns, he had fought in the First World War; she trusted him with her life, and yours for that matter. It was a surprise though to see Henry following him out of the office so willingly, so ready to fight, but then again if everything went according to plan the film wouldn’t be cancelled and he wouldn’t lose his position as a producer. This was business for him still, but she couldn’t find it in her racing heart to care. Just as they were rounding the corner Avis raised her voice, making sure they heard her before turning all her attention back to the map. - And make sure they don’t go empty-handed!

-Wait a moment, Avis. Shouldn’t we call the police about this?

-Do you think that someone like Lon wouldn’t have friends in the Police Department, Ellen? – if she took 10th street from her house and swerved around Victoria park to go down Marie Avenues, she could get down to the station in less than five minutes, her fingers tracing the journey over the paper. - If we call, we might risk telling them about what we know, and for our plan to get to him in the first place. It would be the perfect opportunity for him to kill Y/N, and we might spend hours waiting to hear good news when in fact they’ve done nothing but cover up for him. – her eyes lifted from the desk to look at the blond, her hands trying to fold the map the best she could. - I understand that this might be too much for you, but I’m not going to sit and wait.

-But this is dangerous. We’ve never done something like this before.

-Which is why I’m giving you the choice of coming with me or staying. You don’t have to get involved more than you already are, but you are my friend, and I know that you care about Y/N, as well. I don’t want to do this alone.

Avis’s palm lay outstretched before Ellen. Rage seeped from every pore of the ginger’s body, to be fair she hadn’t felt anything else all morning, and that was fuelling most of the adrenaline that was to be blamed for what was going on, but she was also terrified, absolutely terror-stricken and she feared that the moment she got to the house, she would be left petrified in her seat, unable to do anything but hear your screams. She needed Ellen to hold her together until the very end. To say that the blond wasn’t conflicted would be an understatement, but she knew Avis, and the woman never asked for help; too proud, too hurt to do so most of the time, but knowing that even without wording it that way, she was simply asking her to be there, meant the world to Ellen. Avis had been there for her when her husband had passed, they had shared countless conversations, and evenings at each other’s place. They had cried and laughed and got absolutely smashed once or twice without a care in the world. They were sisters even if they didn’t share the same blood, and that was far more important to her than what Lon might do. She couldn’t abandon her friend now that she needed her. Her hands were sweaty, but she took Avis’s in hers, squeezing hard, a small tender smile ghosting her thin lips.

A weight had been lifted of the ginger’s shoulders, the way her entire frame breathed in relief at the feeling of Ellen’s palm on hers, speaking more than a thousand words could ever do. Now that they were on the same line, Avis grabbed her purse and walked out of the office with quick steps, pulling on Ellen’s hand. The blond was smart though and held onto the map, just in case, before letting herself be dragged along. Miss Stinton protested about meetings and what not, but neither of them listened as they rushed to the lift, the doors conveniently opening just as Avis pressed the button, wishing the contraption would move faster to the ground floor. Ace didn’t keep guns at the studio, he used to say that he liked to keep that sort of thing at home, where he might actually need them, and she had hated that so viscerally that she had thought about getting rid of them more than once and more than twice just to spite him. Now, as doors of the lift chimed open, she was glad she hadn’t, letting go of Ellen’s hand to take the keys to her Cadillac out of her purse, the blond pushing the doors open for the other woman to step through. She knew exactly which of the several models Ace kept at the mansion she was going to choose to face Lon, and she just happened to be handy with it.

She might not look like it, but when she had been little her father had taught her how to shoot, and she had been fucking brilliant, she just didn’t get into the habit of using them as she grew older. The car was intact, waiting patiently for her at the parking lot, and as both ladies settled on their respective seats, Avis saw Jack rushing to one of the other buildings through the rearview mirror, his countenance serious. Dick would have them all ready by the time she was out of the house. Turning the engine on and pulling out of the parking lot she stepped on the gas, the mob that was still gathered outside by the gates having to rush to the sides so as not to get run over, though she didn’t think it would be much of a loss. Ellen, the poor woman held onto the door, sliding over the leather whenever Avis made a turn or took a corner, wondering if she had made the right choice, but it was too late to back down now, the only thing she could see in her friends being fire. Swerving on her street, the car nearly landing on two of its wheels at the corner, Avis practically burst through the gates of her house, the old Mr. Breaton pushing them open as fast as his legs would allow all while Ellen screamed at her to be more careful or she would get them both killed. Bit overdramatic, it wasn’t as if she was driving down the freeway at 80 mph or something like that. Pulling on the hand break hard once the car was stationed before her front door, Avis worked quickly on getting out, looking for her keys, telling Ellen to wait for her and that she would only be a minute.

Like magic Gertie opened the doors, just at the right moment as well, the woman having heard the commotion and fearing that something like the nightly incident might be occurring again, but it was only her employer. Her perfectly coiffed hair was in slight disarray, a curl falling gently on the side of her head, bouncing with each rushed step she took towards her husband’s office, the wooden doors slamming against the walls. The sound didn’t bother her, but it did make Gertie jump on the spot, as her employer quickly pulled a small key from the first drawer on the left of Ace’s oak desk and hurriedly used it on a trunk under the windowsill. It was a beautiful work of art, in the words of her deceased father, and right now she could understand why. Her husband was not one to hunt, but he did like to have the necessary equipment, and the newest member of his collection was a gorgeous Ithaca shotgun, model 37 to be exact, that had never been shot since its purchase. Picking it up and feeling the heaviness of the weapon, she thought that getting rid of Lon might be a perfect way to christen, the comb and forearm, made out of a beautiful dark wood, smooth under the touch of her fingertips.     

There was no ammunition inside it, a safety precaution she had demanded Ace follow, but the box of bullets was right there, in the right bottom corner. Grabbing it she was making her way out the doors when her eyes caught a glimpse of the revolver. What they were going to do was dangerous, and Ellen wasn’t one to have weapons in her purse, so she picked it up just to be safe. Gertie had asked once what was happening and after not receiving an answer retreated to the kitchen, but the sight of Avis with a shotgun wasn’t a usual occurrence in that house, filling her up with worry. Rushing back to the front doors and slamming them close with her foot, to the best extent she could, she sat back inside her Cadillac, the engine still running, and handed everything to Ellen as she shifted into first gear and once again sped down her road towards 10th street just as she had planned back at the studio. The blond’s eyes could have popped out of her skull from how side they were looking at the weapons.  

-Oh my God, Avis! You are not planning on going in there with two guns, are you?!

-Of course not! I need both hands for the shotgun, the revolver is for you.

-What?! I don’t know how to use it!

-I know, and I most certainly hope you don’t have to, but I can’t let you go without protection. We don’t know if it’s going to be just Lon or if there’s going to be twenty men in there, I need to know that you’ll be somehow safe. Just trust me, Ellen.

What other option did she have?! This was all insane, but when didn’t things turn crazy where the KKK was involved? The journey to the Station was just as crazy as the one to her house, but now Ellen had no way of holding onto the door so she wouldn’t slide from side to side, the boxes of ammunition slipping from her fingers every few seconds. The grip Avis had on the steering wheel left her knuckles white, painfully digging into the stiches. She knew she was right; she was sure that’s where that slimy son of a bitch had you, but she could not help the doubts that assaulted her mind. If she was wrong, the real culprit would still be roaming free without any of them being even an inch closer to finding out who he was, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you once he found out she hadn’t answered any of his demands. She had no way of confirming any of it except for a gut feeling, a hunch. She hoped it was enough. At this time in the morning, the roads weren’t as empty as she had hoped for, and a couple of times cars honked as she manoeuvred and cut them off, but she couldn’t give two fucks. Approaching the station, the paths made out of cobblestones caused the car to rise and fall with each little bump, though they only had to suffer it for a minute or two, until they could head East near the gates. Avis was more careful in this part of the journey, knowing that the suspension of her car didn’t do well on roads like this one, a fact Ellen was most appreciative of, wondering just how dishevelled she looked.

It was a secondary road the one that appeared to head East, a dirty path that lifted a cloud of dust as the car drove over it. Henry had said for a mile and then she had to turn south. She felt a pressure on her chest, her breaths fast now that she was lifting her foot off the accelerator, controlling the vehicle as it moved over the rocks and stones that graced the ground under her car. Every beat of her heart felt as if rocks were falling over her shoulders, weighing her down, worry and fear overtaking part of the fury she was feeling, but she would carry on, there was no other option but for you to make it out alive. The car began to slow down as Avis’s thoughts took over, knowing that she should have put up a bigger fight last night, that she should have convinced you to stay no matter what you had said but honesty and respect were the bases of your relationship, and she hadn’t wanted to pressure you. It would have been easier if she had behaved like a bitch and had held onto you, not caring what you said or what you desired, just followed her instinct. If you died, she would never stop blaming herself. Ever. Turning South for half a mile, both ladies held their breaths as the trees began to separate more and more from each other, bringing forth a clearing where a broken-down fence circled the area where the house should be. This was it; they thought. Avis hadn’t reached the end of the road when she was turning the engine off and pulling on the hand brake, Ellen glancing her way with a questioning look.

-We’ll have to walk; I don’t want him to know we are here.

-Shouldn’t we wait for Dick and the others?

-We might not have that kind of time. We’ll check out the premises and if there’s no sign of people, or at least no sign of them being too many, we’ll go in.

-Are you sure, Avis? They might be armed as well.

-We only get one life, one chance at doing what matters, and I’m not letting her die. You can stay in the car if you’d rather wait for Dick. I would understand.

-No. I’m not letting you do this on your own. You are my friend, maybe even a sister, I’m not ditching you now.

Words hurt the same way a dagger slicing through one’s flesh could, but when said in all honestly, love and compromise enfolding them like a blanket, they could act as balm for a broken heart, soothing doubts and worries that were clearly overtaking Avis’s mind. No matter the outcome, she wouldn’t face it alone. Her hand squeezed Ellen’s softly, a kind smile painting her lips as a thank you, maybe as a farewell should they not make it, the other woman returning it just as tenderly. Determined to bring this all to an end, Avis opened her door and stepped out into the forest, her heels crushing twigs and seeds as she rounded the hood to open Ellen’s, picking up the shotgun and the bullets to let her slip out of her seat. She was not heading down the path without a loaded gun, and neither was her friend, but the blond didn’t seem to think it was necessary and she had to shoot out a hand to hold her still, handing her the revolver ammunition. Loading a shotgun was relatively easy, at least with this model. Avis only had to push the ammunition into the receiver until she heard a click before pushing the next bullet in and so on until the barrel was full, ready for her to pump the gun. Ellen didn’t think it was that simple, struggling for a few moments to open the loading gate of the revolver, but soon enough she figured out how the weapon worked, or at least the basics, and just as Avis had finished pushing the last bullet inside her weapon, Ellen was done cocking hers.

Their movements over the grass were meticulous, delivered in a perfect dance of careful steps and quiet whispers, Avis ahead. The edge of the forest got closer and closer, not a sound in the warm air around them, not even birds flying over their heads. That was already a bad sign. Coming up to the last line of trees Avis got the first glimpse at the house, perhaps about sixty feet away, and in her most humble opinion it was a miracle it was still standing. The roof had caved in by the falling of a branch, most of the windows were shattered, and the beams and insulation were out for the elements to affect them. In truth, it was the perfect spot to bring someone to; not a soul would dare set foot in that hazard of a house. The garden, overgrown with weeds, showed no signs of anyone having come to visit in years, except for the car that was now parked on the side, a black Lincoln that she knew for a fact belonged to Lon. They crossed the ruined fenced, plants crushed under their shoes until the set foot on an overworn stone path that led to the front door, the glass glazing shattered, missing some pieces that were probably lost through the yellow weeds. Each breath Avis took was held in her lungs for longer than was necessary, her heart beating so hard and fast that she could hear her blood pumping in her ears, hands slightly clammy around the comb and the forearm of her shotgun, muzzle pointing down at the ground. Her entire world could change in less than a second the instant she walked through that door, but she didn’t know if she could do it. She couldn’t hear a sound, that might mean you were…

Ellen’s hand did it for her. With surprised eyes Avis stared as her friend pushed it open, not a squeak or scratch coming from the old wood, a small win for them as their presence remained unknown. The ginger’s heel was the first thing to come into contact with the inside of the house, the musky odour of a closed-up home and ever-growing mold overwhelming her senses, but she pushed through. Each step was quiet, almost tippytoeing over the dirty carpet, taking in the state of the property as her ears perked up, capturing a faint noise, like a whimper. Upon hearing this she stood still, holding up her hand for Ellen to halt her movements as well, hardy breathing in hopes of hearing it again. Yes, there was a whimper coming from some room ahead, and she knew it was you who was making it. She could recognise your voice even if her head was underwater. She stopped being careful right then, her steps hard against the creaking wood as she came to terms with the fact that there was no one else in that house except for you and maybe Lon. Ellen tried to warn her with hushed words but to no avail; Avis was seeing red. Close to the end of the hallway was the entrance to a bathroom and a bit further down a metal door that was completely shut, but even through the thick material she could hear the voice of a man saying that he was going to gut you open, your whines and pleas quietly sounding in the background. Over her dead fucking body! Pointing the muzzle towards the lock, Avis pumped it hard and without warning pulled the trigger. It was as if a bomb had gone off, a scream escaping Ellen at the sudden noise, but it had served its purpose, and the door was now slightly open. Pushing it with her foot Avis came face to face with your battered body on the floor, a chair lying in a corner, and Lon standing over you with a cane raised in the air, his small beady eyes watching her with a terrified veil falling over them.

-Ding Dong, motherfucker. – she pumped her shotgun to make her point clear to him.

-What…? How…?

-Shut up! Drop the cane and take one step away from Y/N or I swear to everything in this fucking universe that I’ll blow your head off.  – squatting slowly to the ground, he left the weapon on the concrete, raising his arms high in the air before doing what told, his back barely two feet away from the damp wall. His eyes never left her form, terror making him shake on his spot. – You thought you could play me? You don’t know who you are messing with.

-Please, Avis…

-Do I need to repeat myself?! SHUT UP! I don’t care about your excuses; I don’t care for anything you might have to say. You dug your grave, Lon; I think I’ll put you in it.

-Avis, Dick is here.

-Don’t move an inch, Lon. I’m feeling trigger-happy. – Avis turned her head to the doorway, purposely refusing to look at you in fear that your state might make her buckle in her resolution to end him, that it might make her weak for a moment and he would take the opportunity to fight her for the gun. Ellen’s eyes weren’t on her though, and that made her heart clench in grief at the thought of how you might look, but she remained strong and addressed the blond. – Go get him and take Y/N out to the car. – the woman, as petite as she was, run fast even in high heels. As Avis’s eyes returned to Lon, she saw the splatters of blood that stained his shirt, the way his hands were bathed in the crimson liquid, dripping down his arms and staining his cuffs. She was finding it increasingly difficult to not kill him right there and then. – You thought you were so smart that I wouldn’t find out? You messed with my family, I would have figured out it was you in the end, no matter how long it would have taken.

-You don’t understand.

-I don’t understand?! You kidnapped an innocent woman, beat her close to death, lied to my face, and you still think you are in a position to tell me I don’t understand?! Who do you think you are?!

He remained silent, trembling against the wall. He had been caught; he couldn’t get out of this one. What had happened? He had never failed before, he had never made a mistake and yet here he was, with a gun to his head for the first time since joining the group. He was supposed to be the one threatening and intimidating people, not her, he was supposed to be the superior being, how had she outsmarted him?! Dick and Ellen rushed down the corridor and quickly made their way inside the room past Avis, picking you up as gently as they could. Your entire world had shrunk to the size of your broken body, nothing that was going on around you being registered by your abused mind anymore, the only thing you could feel and think about was the agony you were in. Caring hands lifted you off the cold floor and for an instant you wondered if your time had come, angels taking you to the heavens. You wanted to see their kind faces, you didn’t want to die with the sight of Lon engraved in your head, but upon cracking them open, the action exhausting, you saw two people you knew very well, and then in the background was her. Avis was alright, she wasn’t hurt in any way, her face perfect still with her rosy cheeks and plump red lips, those big deep brown eyes turning to look at you, filled with rage that wasn’t yours to worry about. A lopsided smile broke from your lips at the sight of your love, every horrible thing that he had done to you vanishing into the ether as you let the love that filled her eyes wrap around you. Everything would be alright now, was your last thought before the world turned black. Ellen and Dick did their job and took you out of the house and into Avis’s Cadillac, checking your pulse. Avis did not move from her spot though.

-How does it feel to be cornered Lon? Do you like the way fear can overtake one’s mind this quickly?

-How?

-You made a mistake, as simple as that. You thought you were being so careful, so meticulous. I must admit you almost had me there, but like always, I’m one step ahead.

-This is not over. I might not have succeeded this time, but I sure as Hell will the next one.

-You think you are going to have a next one? Not a chance. You tried to destroy my and my husband’s entire work; you terrified my daughter and nearly killed my girlfriend. How can you still think you will have a next time?

-Because we always win. – he jumped towards her, his hands raised to grab her weapon, but she was quick, and the trigger just felt so soft under her finger. The sound of the bullet ejecting from the gun echoed inside the room as well as the outside of the house, heads lifting in worry at it, but Avis was completely uninjured. Lon, though, he was holding onto his shattered leg, screaming in agony as blood and shards of bone fell over the dirty ground, his body colliding heavily against the concrete.

-Not today, you son of a bitch. I have worked too fucking hard for everything that I have, and I won’t let you or anyone take it from me. So better get used to the idea of Meg, because I will invest every ounce of my time and money to make it the best film in the fucking world. And Archie and Camille will be on contract until my very last day as head of the studio. Because it’s mine, not yours. Mine.

-Ace… won’t let you…

-Ace will fire you, if not kill you himself, the moment he finds out about your little stunt. You don’t know who you’ve messed with, but I will make sure you don’t forget. I’ve got friends too Lon, and they are not happy about this at all.

-You can’t… Ahhhh…

-I can’t what, Lon? Kill you? Speak up!

-He won’t… believe you. He’s never cared.

-That might be so, but he will believe Dick. And his daughter. You see? I’m always one step ahead. Any last words? – she was growing tired of this whole conversation, as thriving and delicious as it was to have him under her thumb like this. She pumped the shotgun again, the last bullet she had inside the weapon, drinking in the way his eyes filled with terror, mumbling quickly, pleading to her.

-Wait, wait! Please!

-Being this emotional is not letting you think clearly, Lon. There is no room for mercy in me, there never was and there never will be.

-Please, don’t! I could… help you… I could do something…

-Don’t beg, it doesn’t suit you. I don’t want anything that you might have to offer; that boat sailed the moment you kidnapped Y/N. You are lucky I’ve let you live this long. You don’t know how much I wanted to put a bullet through your eyebrows the instant I set foot in here, but I didn’t want Y/N to suffer anymore. But now that it’s only us I can do what I desire the most. I hope you get what you deserve in Hell. - In a cloud of smoke, the last bullet pierced through the air, until it lodged itself in the middle of his chest, blood pouring over his white shirt by the pint, thin trickles running down his nose and from the corners of his mouth. He spat and gurgled, trying to cover up his wound with his hands, but it was futile. She held her head high and took in the way the light seemed to be dimming in his eyes. – Remember this, Lon. I’m Avis fucking Amberg and I just beat you at your own game.

It was over, at last. Adrenaline rushed through her entire body at the speed of light, the exhilaration that came with a job well done, mixing with the unexpected wave of guilt and terror at what she had done. Her steps as she walked down the hallway were unsteady, clumsy over the debris that had accumulated over the years, and for a moment, she had to stop and hold herself up by placing a hand on the crumbling wall. She felt sick to her stomach, her entire frame shaking as the noises he had been making turned into silence, a wave of cold air coming through the broken windows. She had never, in her entire life considered herself to be a violent woman. Yes, she was temperamental, but she had never raised a hand to a single soul, not even to Claire when she had been little and misbehaved, and to have the image of a dead man, a man she had killed, engraved in her mind was like a punch to her gut. She had never wanted this, she wasn’t like this, but the most primeval part of herself, the part that needed to ensure the safety of her family, had taken over not thinking about the consequences, just that she needed to find you and protect you. Part of her mind was telling her that she should have handled it differently, she was an orator, not a gangster, but the other half, the louder one, was telling her she had done the right thing, that she had to kill him. She couldn’t risk letting him go, even if he was injured, thinking that the matter was closed only for everything to happen again in a few months’ time. With him gone no one would hurt them anymore, all the threats would be empty words, and the studio would carry on as if nothing had happened. It had to be done, she kept thinking to herself, you would never be safe otherwise and that simple fact lessened the burden of her actions. Actions that she swore to the Heavens and herself she would never repeat again. With one last glance towards the metal door, she carried on walking down the hallway and out into the warm midday sun. Ellen ran to meet her, wrapping her arms around her body in a strong hug. She hadn’t realised how much she needed that until she felt her breath shaking as a lump formed in her throat, preventing her from speaking, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. The blond held her for a minute or so, feeling Avis’s trembling limbs trying to wrap themselves around her small waist in search of comfort. Hearing the shots all the way from in between the trees, had had her losing her mind, Dick holding her in place and telling her that you needed her more than Avis did to prevent her from running back to the house. But she had anyway, and just at the right time to see her walking out of there without a scratch on her body.

The relief was monumental. But there was a more pressing matter to attend to, and the blond was quick in dragging Avis back to her car, Dick’s and Ernie’s parked right behind it. He really had brought the cavalry, Avis thought. The world had crumbled when she had first heard your voice through the phone, now it had combusted and turned into ashes as she laid eyes on your poor battered body. There was not an inch that wasn’t purple or injured in some way, your once beautiful dress now drenched in red. She felt faint, and her knees didn’t support her weight at the sight of you, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. You looked so small, so vulnerable, and it clawed at her heart so deeply that tears began to fall down her cheeks, the shotgun lying over the grass beside the car, forgotten. Nothing in her entire life had ever hurt like this. These feelings were crushing her, deafening, muting and blinding her in a never-ending wave of sorrow and anguish that was taking hold of her. She had caused this, you were lying here shattered to pieces because of her, and it was that thought the one that she couldn’t get over. With her hand pushing your hair gently off your face, she touched your still-soft flesh, but it was colder under her fingertips. God, she could not bear to lose you. Dick’s voice came from behind her, reaching her ears in slow motion as she cried over your unconscious frame, tears falling and losing themselves among your locks of hair.

-She’s still alive, but she needs a hospital, Avis.

[hanibalistic]

CANNIBAL, MURDER, CHURCH | LEE HEESEUNG. PARK JONGSEONG.

genre | brother!heeseung, godbrother!jay 

synopsis | jay always thought there was something weird about you and heeseung. turns out it's much worse than what he imagined.  

word count | 4.4k+

warning | mention of violence, killing, cannibalism, blood, injuries, bite marks / implications of an incestuous relationship

note | 哥哥我要殺了你 / i've been really into 骨科 recently so i brought this piece back

Heeseung swung your bedroom door open with force strong enough to screw the doorknob loose. 

Jay ignored the frustrated footsteps raging behind him as he carefully laid you down on your bed. 

He remained silent when you pulled your legs up to your chest, avoiding the covers he grabbed to drape over you. He figured you were cold, considering your skin was; he felt the staking chill from the back of your knees when he carried you here from Heeseung’s room, which was left in a mess after the recent commotion. 

You might have dodged his good intention on purpose, and neither would he question nor denounce it. After all, he did just forcefully inject you with a sedative. Without proper medical training, the needle likely stabbed a new bruise on your arm. He couldn't check it if he tried to. The spot was covered by the sleeve of your shirt. 

Gently dropping the blankets at your feet, letting them cover your toes, Jay pulled from the edge of your bed. Heeseung stopped next to him. The bed of sweat on his head was kept afloat by his hair, and his chest still huffing from the marathon he ran from the hospital to home after he received multiple missed calls and one defining text of 'Help. [Name]' from Jay.

 “What happened?” Heeseung asked.

“I should be asking that,” Jay said after a moment of contemplating silence. 

When his father first brought you and Heeseung into his home, he recognized that you were like two peas in a pot. Being brought into a new environment so suddenly must have been difficult. Jay never questioned your inseparable bond, but it continued for the past few months. If anything, at this point, Jay would go as far as to say you two were unhealthily codependent on each other. 

He didn't judge it, though. It made sense for you two to be so close. His father, your godfather, had told him your parents died at an early age. After knowing the system had plans to separate you two, Heeseung fled with you and practically filled the role of a father. Nobody knew how that was possible, especially when Heeseung shouldn't have the ability to plot like that at his age. 

Jay’s father chalked it up to the system being underfunded and understaffed, so it must have slipped past their grasp when two children went missing. Jay thought it was a hoax on Heeseung’s part, that he wasn’t telling the whole story about what happened to your family.

But, other than history, things have been suspicious. For a pair of siblings, for being an older brother, Heeseung was alarmingly aware of your existence. He was protective and borderline possessive of you, but that didn't nearly baffle him as much as how you two regarded your physical intimacy as something natural to share. 

You always hung out with each other and went wherever the other one went. You ate the same meal simultaneously and always sat as close to each other as possible. He has never seen someone your age who'd still openly hold their brother's hands or sit between their brother's legs during a movie night. 

Given what you guys went through together, he understood being hyper-vigilant, but everything else was unreasonable. Jay had suspicions about the extent of your relationship with Heeseung, but he never spoke a word of it. 

He was never confrontational, to begin with. Not to mention, he was still trying to fit into your circle now that his father had moved you two into their home and started his role as the godfather. He ought to blend into your family by first becoming you and Heeseung's (god)brother, too, and interrogating you for answers would ruin it.

However, after what just happened, he changed his mind. 

Turning his body to face Heeseung fully, he raised his arm to show the unbuttoned cuff of his black dress shirt. Heeseung stepped back instinctively at the proximity of their bodies and sneered that he was intimidated by Jay’s firm silence. He curled his fists by his side as Jay carefully rolled his sleeve up to reveal three bite marks spanned irregularly across his forearm, all of them in the shape of teeth.

Your teeth, specifically. He has seen and felt enough of them to know.

“Care to explain what this means?” Jay asked, putting his injured arm in Heeseung’s line of sight.

Heeseung stared at it with a clenched jaw. That and the frantic attempts to reach him were enough resources for him to assume what happened while he was away. 

What a shame. He managed to keep the secret safe for so long. He was so diligent and meticulous, fixating on every timetable and operating based on strict discipline. He held your limbs together and bit your teeth back for you. All for an unpredictable accident to pull the curtains open. 

Heeseung curled and uncurled his hands, and then he glanced at you. You appeared unharmed. Even if you were, if his assumption was correct, the sedative would alleviate the pain and discomfort you were feeling anyway. But he doubted you were. 

He hated to admit it, but if there was one thing he could count on Jay to do, it was to never intentionally hurt you. 

“I asked you first,” he said. “What happened?”

“That’s not how this works. I hold more leverage against you,” Jay said. 

“I don’t know anything about tests and examinations, but I’m sure if I take this to the hospital, they will be able to find [Name]’s saliva over my injuries, and I will technically be able to press charges.”

He tilted his head. "Or are you going to forge the test results like you forge medical orders to steal sedatives from the hospital? I must say, Lee Heeseung, undetectable handwriting forgery is some skill to have."

Heeseung smirked bitterly. He hasn't gotten in trouble with the hospital yet, so Jay must have pulled some strings behind the scenes with his daddy's money to confirm a suspicion he already had. 

But Jay was right. With so much evidence on hand, he was at a loss here. Unfortunately, he wasn’t willing to kill anyone to keep a secret, so the only option was to tell the truth.

“What did you see?” he asked. 

“Are you going to keep fighting me on this?”

“It’s easier to explain it through your eyes,” Heeseung retorted. “Tell me what happened.”

Jay dropped his arm, careful not to press his wounds against his clothes. It stopped hurting for a while, but everything else lingered. Psychologically, he knew vividly the injuries were there and have been there, and how they were caused. He couldn't ignore anything about it despite it not reminding him anymore.

He smacked his tongue over his front teeth and rolled his eyes. Heeseung's question has an easy answer because it is so dramatic that he remembers everything that went down, and it has a difficult answer because it is a sorry sight. 

He had gone home to pick something up between classes. This would have never happened if he hadn't forgotten to bring it when he left for school this morning. What he initially thought was a burglar turned out to be you, but in Jay's head, he wasn't sure if he could ever consider such psychotic desperation as you. 

You were always so quiet and presentable, walking with a ghostly grace that alerted nobody. Stealth was your special skill, and he didn't think you even knew it. You have crept up on him multiple times, either to get something he was blocking or to get his attention. You often used gestures, though, pointing at objects and motioning for him to make space.

He rarely heard you speak. Jay always thought it was social anxiety that prevented you from verbally interacting one-on-one with others, and that very well might still be the case despite all the other factors. 

But, otherwise, Heeseung was your keeper. He made most of your decisions and spoke for you.

You had been rummaging through Heeseung’s room when Jay found you. Throwing papers off of desks and tissues out of trashcans, drool dripping uncontrollably down your chin as you hyperventilated away the hunger in the pit of your tummy. 

Jay had thought you were drunk off your mind when he saw you. He tried to coax you out of your endeavor; it didn’t work. When he circled his arm around your body, one hand reached out to pull your head away from sticking under your brother’s bed, you bit him and didn’t let go.

He had been careful not to shove you off or exert any force to pull you away from him, but his stability gifted him two additional sets of teeth marks, so he ended up having to hold your head and rip his skin off your teeth.

“They were looking for sedatives,” Jay said, holding back a wince as he recounted the event. “They told me to inject it, so I did.” 

He found it in a childish-looking safe located on top of a bookshelf. It was where people usually discard unwanted things, but in Heeseung's case, it was a hiding spot. Surprisingly, the password to access the safe wasn't related to either you or him, so Jay ended up having to pry it open with a tool. 

Inside the safe were bottles and needles. Sedatives, Jay recognized.

Heeseung licked his lower lip when Jay’s voice dropped from the brief explanation. He stared at the floor but managed enough consciousness away from his thoughts to shift his weight and rub the bridge of his oily noise by pinching it with his thumb and index finger. 

He wasn’t ready to face the idea of another person being in the know of your condition, but again, he wasn’t willing to kill someone again. 

“This is my fault,” he muttered. 

Jay raised a brow. “What is?”

Lowering himself, Heeseung extended his arm and ran his hand harshly over your hair. He moved closer to your face, intently observing the state of your unfocused eyes. They were clouded and sorrowful, filled with tears once fallen, and they were ready to fall again now that your brother was finally willing to touch you. 

"Hey," he smiled, rubbing his thumb over your eyes, " I'm back." 

"I did something bad," you whispered.

"No, you didn’t." Sighing, softened, smitten, Heeseung smoothed the back of his fingers down the side of your face. "Good job looking for the sedative.”

You spared no reaction to the tip of his nose brushing against yours. It could have been the sedation, or you were used to your brother being so close. Jay grimaced as Heeseung visibly glanced down at your mouth and then back up at your eyes, and then nothing more than that.

Getting onto your bed in his outdoor clothes, creasing your sheets into a familiar pattern, Heeseung placed his hands under your thigh and the small of your back to lift you forward. Once there was enough space, he moved to sit behind you, his legs spread to cage you between them. 

You habitually leaned back onto your brother’s chest. His frame towered over yours, familiar and safe.

"I'm sorry. I've been so busy with work and school lately that I neglected you," he whispered, nudging the side of your head with his jaw.

His adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he spoke, akin to the beat of his heart. You slowly moved a hand up to touched it with your fingers, pulling at his skin and pressing your thumb gently against it.

He never flinched when you touched his throat, even though a few years ago, you bit him so hard that you tore some skin off of it. He was left with ugly scabs for a while, and he made you apply medicinal cream on them daily as punishment.

Smirking at your silent pleas, he pulled your hand away from his neck, his fingers folding you snuggly around himself. The neck must have some anatomical advantage that makes it so well-loved. He was never sure what it was. It could be the strong shape, the pulsing blood flowing beneath, or its position on the human body providing easy access. 

One thing he knew for sure, though, was that it’ll be a long time before he allows you access to his throat again. 

"You are adorable, but that is off-limits," he said, and you obeyed. “You must be hungry."

His hair fell over his eyes as he stared down at you, making the perfect slant of his nose and his smile the only visible features to grace others. If Jay had to guess, he was sure Heeseung's eyes were soft and spoiled when he looked at you. 

The wavering chemistry of your positions and interactions that could be noticed by an unassuming passersby was not lost on Jay, but he wasn't sure if there was anything concrete to make of it. 

Heeseung circled his arm around your neck and tipped his finger at your mouth. ”Do you want a bite?”

Jay furrowed his brows. After the minor public display of affection, that was the last thing he thought would come out of Heeseung’s mouth.

"Excuse me. What?”

Heeseung looked surprised when he turned from you to his new brother as if he wasn't already aware of Jay's presence in the room. He stared at the other man to blatantly access him. Stone-faced, strong jaw, with grit spaced between each purse of his lips and furrow of his brows. 

Jay knew how to read the room. He wasn't stupid and supposed that was all Heeseung had to bet on. 

"[Name] is a bit of a cannibal," he said.

Was Jay surprised? In retrospect, not quite.

"What do you mean a little? You either eat people or you don't," Jay questioned.

"They have cravings. They do eat if an opportunity presents itself, but we've learned from our mistakes," Heeseung said. "I've trained them to settle with chewing on skin occasionally. They don't eat anymore, but they do get hungry. What happened just now will happen when you leave it too long." 

“Jesus Christ,” Jay whispered as he shook his head in disbelief. Heeseung made sense. His story wasn’t completely implausible. The worst part was that he was nonchalant about it. “How–how did you even find out?”

“We’re not ready to let you know yet,” Heeseung replied with a firm glare. 

“Have they actually eaten anyone?”

“We’re also not ready to let you know that yet.”

Jay held a hand up and closed his eyes, squeezing it to force discomfort so he could better maintain his composure. “This whole one entity, ‘we’ speaker thing is driving me out.”

“Then get out,” Heeseung mused, his brow raise borderline condescending. “You’re not required here.”

“Well, I require myself to be here,” Jay retorted with a frown. “How have they… dealt with the problem before?”

“It’s not a real problem. You people made it up.” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

"First of all, I'm not the founding father of words," Jay said. "Second of all, I'm not going to sit here and defend the dictionary definition of what a problem is."

“Like I said,” Heeseung pointed at the door, “you are welcome to leave.”

“I am also [Name]’s brother!”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue the legal definition of whether a godsibling counts as a real sibling.”

“Touché,” Jay clicked his tongue. He glanced at you and gulped, finally meeting eyes with you for the first time after standing here and arguing about you as if you weren’t here. But that’s what you were used to; leaving yourself up for others to debate, for your brothers to debate. 

He looked back up at Heeseung and exhaled, his jaw locking. “But if that’s who I consider myself, you can’t stop me. I deserve to know.”

Heeseung raised a brow in mild approval. He always knew Jay had everything it took to stand his ground. Being raised with immense wealth, that man grew up to be both confident and humble. However, if his upbringing taught him anything, it was that money talks. Someone with the trust fund he does should fear no one and nothing.

He let you play with his fingers and put them in your mouth, nibbling on them and trying to prick his nails out. You were clearly uninterested in the conversation. He pinched your cheek harshly when you hurt him, and you softened your approach. He rubbed the redness away, pressing his face to your head apologetically. 

“I used to feed myself to them,” he muttered without looking at Jay.

“You cut yourself up?”

“No, I’m afraid of self-inflicting pain,” he said. “I just let them gnaw on me until they’re satisfied.” 

Heeseung never took a knife and sliced parts of his flesh for you. But if you had asked for it, he thought he might forgo the pain and do it. He also never allowed you to actually consume flesh due to health reasons. Your body was not immune to diseases carried by others. God knows the horrific possibilities if you end up eating human meat. 

You settled with gnawing on flesh. Heeseung taught you to, and you never complained about that. You liked it. You were enamored with the sensation lingering at the tip of your teeth when you sank them into a place between skin and bone. You loved the threat of mutilation and the waltz of moving toward and backing away from that point. 

You remembered your brother's blood tasted bitter like expired grapefruit. You remembered how his gentle palm caressed your head after the deed to lure you to slumber.

"Have you never tried to get help?" Jay asked. 

“What do you think would happen to us if this gets out? We will get separated, so I made sure we can both keep a secret,” Heeseung said as he rolled his sleeve up, your head banging against his shoulder in the process. 

"No, that's not–" This wasn't a battle he understood, but the urge to prove his existing beliefs correct was overwhelming. Although he even thought he would have this conversation. "You're supposed to get them professional help.”

"Why do you think I'm planning to attend medical school?”

He hasn’t asked Jay’s father for any handouts so far. Besides the unstoppable freeloading in his home, which he would have compensated financially for if given the chance, Heeseung hasn’t asked for anything from his godfather because he was saving up all his favors for medical school expenses.

"Oh my god? So, what? You're just going to deal with this–" Jay cut himself back when he almost referred to you as baggage. He shook his head in dissatisfaction, avoiding Heeseung's divided attention. "You're planning to do this alone? For the rest of your life?"

"Yes," Heeseung said without hesitation. "I'm their brother.”

"You're missing a defining description of yourself, that's for sure.”

Heeseung looked up. His blanket stare prowled through Jay's conscience, and for the first time, Jay questioned himself. Intentionally bringing you closer to him, Heeseung sneered faintly. 

"What you're implying is inconsequential to the grand scheme of things.”

Jay returned the stare momentarily before he looked down at the floor, chuckling in defeat. Heeseung was a brother who loved you a little too much, and you were too dependent on his care and support. In a way, you both save and destroy each other.

Given the circumstances, Jay couldn't imagine it otherwise.

"They get anxious with new people around. The anxiety makes them hungry like fear makes people's stomachs empty," Heeseung muttered. His breaths were soft against the back of your neck. "I should have taken precautions and fed them more. I was too careless." 

He might have begun his medicine studies for you, but he actually enjoyed the topic. He also wanted to give it his all at school and the workplace. It all got to his head, overloading him with tasks and stress. He got careless. 

Pulling the tip of his index finger out from between your teeth, he habitually rubbed away the wetness before moving to uncurl the sleeve of his undershirt. Jay silently gasped at the scars littered across Heeseung’s arm, all similar in shape but irregular in placement. 

His arm has become a template that measures the shape of your violence, your anxiety, your teeth. Bruises scattered across made more visible in comparison to his paleness. 

It was second nature to Heeseung, to a point where the habit of earning and owning those bruises cannot be unlearned. The next step of his mental leap would be the state of yearning—chaotically, desperately seeking for a morsel of your bite, to be mutilated by your mouth.

Jay looked down at his own arm. It was almost identical to Heeseung’s. This was just the beginning.

“Here." Heeseung put his arm to your mouth, angling it so there’s a plain surface to feast on. “Bite me, but not too hard. You’re gonna break me.”

It was like a love confession, or something much worse than that. It’s chronic suicide; an oath to it, between you and him.

Jay watched as you sniffed Heeseung's skin, rubbing your nose against the surface, and then, finally, you kissed a spot on his arm. The kiss led to a bite, your lips spreading open to bring him inside. 

Heeseung pursed his lips in pain, but his chest heaved out as he relaxed upon your satiation.

He couldn’t pinpoint the difference between this and the closeness of regular lovers. He wouldn’t point at one or the other and announce that one was true love while the other wasn’t.

"Wait." 

He didn't know what took over him, but the request came out before he knew it. Jay shrunk faintly at Heeseung's glare, his resolve breaking again. But this time, he was pathetic. He was a man with a favor to ask.

"You can leave,” Heeseung said monotonously.

“No. It's just–this is partially my fault," Jay said. "You said they get anxious around new people. I am considered one of those new people.”

“Get to the point.”

Jay’s thoughts were in complete disarray, but standing tall among all the incoherence was a fallacy birthed through one immense curiosity: how it feels to be bitten. Or at least it must be.

There was no other quality more fundamental to humanity than curiosity. Besides that, it must be love.

Jay has conditioned himself to care about you and Heeseung now that he has become part of the family, but he didn't think he loved you with the same intensity and meaning as Heeseung did.

It didn't make sense that he would offer himself the way Heeseung did to you. It wasn't natural. 

Surely, your brother knew that this wasn't normal. A man of his caliber—determined and intelligent, daring and responsible—must know this crosses an unspoken territory. 

So then, if it didn't come from him, the obsession must be you?

Approaching the bed, Jay ignored the dissatisfied expression on Heeseung's face as he propped one knee on the bed and exposed his skin to your face. Light gradually lit up your stoic eyes with an uncertain huger, and Jay cleared his throat.

"You can take a bite," he said.

You looked behind you at Heeseung for approval. His eyes flipped back and forth between you and Jay, and then he reluctantly nodded.

Patience was a virtue Jay had since birth, and endurance was a skill he learned.

He never knew how far he could take or was willing to take until he felt your fingers wrap around his hand and your teeth squeeze into his flesh. He furrowed his brows upon the initial clench, and he never got used to it as you printed your front teeth better than any tattoo gun has ever drawn on his skin.

Your bites were merciless, but it was different than the previous ones you left on him. You were more controlled now, eating with timid etiquette, a reflection of a wolf begging not to be feared, begging to feel intimacy. 

It hurt with a newfound sensation. 

Jay looked down at you. Saliva and blood painted the corners of your lips and his skin, and your teeth dragged against his skin whenever you hiccupped into a moan.

He watched you hold yourself back, your brain squirming to adhere to your brother's rules. His breathing picked up. It was uncanny. 

It hurt with a newfound sensation—perseverance, devotion, attachment.

He put himself in your brother's shoes for once, and he realized the roles were reversed.

Instead of Heeseung sacrificing everything for you, he has you caged in the confined of his walls. He taught you to only crave his flesh, to run everything by him first. He sculpted you to need him incessantly so he could have you all to himself.

He gives you everything you want, which is him, so you give him everything he wants, which is you. A neverending supply of mutual desire. An endless supply of love, which had always begun with consumption anyway. 

One cannot claim to love anymore without knowing how it feels inside them. And there was no God. There was no other God but your heaving satisfaction in creating and licking his wounds. An ambiguous truth, a corrupted awakening—the obsession to be consumed, the obsession to be chosen, the obsession of you.

Taboo, stigmatized, predatory, and real. More real than anything he has ever felt.

Jay understood. 

“[Name], careful,” Heeseung urged with a hand around Jay’s wrist, lightly pushing it out of your mouth. He stared straight at the blood rolling down your chin, seeping into the cracks of your dry lips, mixing with your saliva. The saliva he was used to smelling. “Not too much of him.”

"It's okay," Jay muttered immediately after, the stinging pain present and overwhelming. But in that instant, he knew Heeseung was right about everything. "They're hungry. Let them eat."

“You're bleeding,” Heeseung accused.

“Yes." Jay nodded. "What else am I supposed to do? Not let them get what they want?"

Heeseung's eye twitched, but he'd take cooperation over any other reaction. "I take it that you will keep a secret.”

"Of course," Jay said. "I am a brother, after all.”

And his hands are ready to bleed.

[moonydustx]

How does it end?

info: yes, we have reached the end of this story! obscenity, of course. Presence of a slightly toxic ex. Sweet boy (and jealous) Law.

italicized text blocks are flashback

MDNI | MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART 01 - PART 02 - PART 03 - PART 04 (you're here)

"Do you intend to stay alone there for long?" Your captain's voice caught your attention, dragging you out of a book. "Everyone's going to drink. I think we deserve a celebration."

"I'm right here, captain."

"I insist." He held out his hand, lifting you from the cold floor of the submarine. "I can tell you the end of the book while we drink."

The vivid memory still made you laugh a little. That night, Law not only told you the story of that book, but also the sequel to them, and even so, you read them one by one. At that time, you were still just captain and subordinate. It seemed like something very distant.

You never imagined that you would spend nights stuck in his room, feeling on the edge of precipices full of pleasure. You couldn't imagine that your favorite place to sleep would be one, in your captain's bed, two, in his arms when he refused to go to bed in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, some nights this was impossible, which meant spending a few hours a day in his office, even if it was just to work together and do nothing else.

Your right ear was ringing with the explosion near you, an annoyance that nauseated you and made you dizzy. Who would have thought you would fall into an ambush? Before you could gather the strength to stand up, your feet left the ground and you felt yourself being thrown against someone's shoulders, someone who wasn't wearing the same uniform as you. It was impossible to see the person's face, so you could only pray that they were taking you to a safe place.

The beaten earth floor that you saw below you soon turned into simpler footsteps and cracks against a metal ramp. Trying to stand up, you noticed that you didn't have that much strength and that you could see the symbol of your crew against the yellow wall. You were home.

The sounds were still muffled when you were placed back on your feet.

"You?" Your voice was exasperated as soon as you noticed who had carried you into your submarine.

It wasn't that you hated him or held a grudge against him. But the last thing you expected was to be saved by your dear (not so much) ex-boyfriend. Teru still looked the same as when you broke up and he left the crew, the only thing that had changed about him was his normal civilian clothes.

"Let's disappear from their radar. Everyone at your posts now!" Law's voice sounded too loud for you, forcing you to hide your own head between your arms.

"Captain, I need to talk to you."

"Later." Law's voice sounded even lower as you felt his hands gently rest on your arms. "I'm going to take you to the infirmary."

You expected him to guide you to the place and not transport you with his powers. As soon as the environment transformed into the small white room, you felt one of his hands hold you by the waist and the other lean on one of the walls.

"It's going to be a difficult descent, I'd rather not take any risks."

As soon as the submarine stabilized and you were far enough away from the reach of enemies, Law guided you to the nearest bench, lifting you up and sitting on it without any effort. Quietly, you watched him walk back and forth gathering what he needed. You could tell he was too quiet. The first touch near your ear made you flinch.

"Sorry babe, this is going to bother you a little." He simply said, focused on cleaning the injured area.

He spent a few more minutes cleaning and medicating the area in complete silence. As soon as he finished the area around your ear, he started treating the few wounds spread across your face.

"Is there any salvation for my case? I mean, you didn't say anything."

"Your eardrum is a little damaged, it'll be fine in a few days. Some shrapnel caused the whole problem, so it's pretty easy to heal." he explained in an almost professorial tone.

"Are you sure? You're all tense."

"Do you want the honest answer?" he asked and laughed when he saw your eyes widen in fright. "I'm kidding."

"Still, I can see that something is bothering you."

The hands that were caring for your face went down, contouring your body and resting around you as a sigh that bordered on frustration escaped him.

"I don't know how comfortable I am with seeing you on the shoulders of a man with blood all over your head." he finished, seeing you blink a few times and nod. "Now I'm relieved that it was just that."

"Well, we have to consider that the man who brought me was Teru."

"I couldn't care less about that." Law's professional demeanor slowly faded, allowing him to fit between your legs.

"So I'm discharged?" the tone of your voice along with your fingers trailing a dangerous path up his shirt, towards the back of Law's neck. "I could really use some other treatments."

"You make things a little more difficult." Even if out of the corner of his eye, he followed your nimble fingers and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. "Very difficult."

"I think there's too much adrenaline in my body." The last words came out as a whisper from your lips before you stole his for yourself.

Occupying the little space that still existed between the two of you, Law pulled your thighs in order to fit between your legs while he felt the taste of your tongue against his. Your nails had already found his tattooed abdomen and slid as if you knew every inch of his skin. A path that was becoming increasingly familiar.

"Captain?" Teru's voice caught the attention of both of you, forcing you to move away just enough for Law to be able to answer.

"What do you need?"

"Can I talk to you?" Law's eyes met yours and for a brief moment they seemed to ask permission for him to leave you there and solve whatever problem awaited him. Seeing you nod, Law completely disconnected himself from your body.

"Meet me in my office, I'll be there in a few minutes." the captain replied and took the silence on the other side of the door as an agreement.

"Work calls you." As much as you tried to avoid it, the discouraged tone remained in your voice, which earned a simple smile from the man in front of you.

"Before I go…" Law approached again, this time with no other intention than conversation. "I have a feeling he's going to ask for something and since we're en route, it's going to be very difficult to return to the surface now."

"So we're stuck here with Teru?"

"Is that a problem? I know you broke up amicably, but I don't think it's right to let him stay here without at least asking what you prefer."

"I'd be lying if I said I think it's the most amazing thing in the world to have my ex back here, but he saved me, I think it's the least I owe him."

You explained and saw him nod, processing the words into something that only his head could understand. Law considered walking away for a few seconds, but the doubt that plagued his mind would never allow it.

"Do you still feel something for him?"

"For Teru? I believe that, besides being grateful for his help today, nothing more than that." When you noticed Law's vacant gaze, you didn't hesitate to turn his face towards you. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing you should worry." He said in a gentle tone. His lips quickly found the top of your head. "Now go rest."

"But I…"

"Captain's orders." He mumbled with an almost cretinous smile drawn on his lips. "If you behave, maybe you can include a few more things in your rest."

Well, resting wasn't exactly the easiest thing. The injury had been minor and as much as you took Law's considerations into account, something told you deeper down that it was an exaggeration of concern. However, from that moment on, some things started to get strange.

Immediately, it seemed like all eyes were on you. You wondered if they had seen, heard or suspected something about you and Law, but it seemed unlikely. Even more so when Ikkaku pulled you by the arm.

"So… Teru?" she whispered as if you weren't alone there. "Don't tell me you're back together."

"Are you crazy? Never!" the idea would never, ever cross your mind. Even if you were single. Well, technically… "He just happened to be in the right place and time."

"And what happened, were you hurt badly?"

"No, the captain said it was just some shrapnel." You preferred to avoid the more detailed explanation that Law had given. The truth is that the little incomplete session between the two of you had taken up a good part of your memories.

"Hey, I found you!" your ex-boyfriend's voice filled the entire room, with a joy that sounded shrill to your still sore ears.

"I'll leave you two alone." Ikkaku blinked and walked away with a gentle smile towards his former crewmate.

"So, how can I help you?" Your solicitous voice hid your laziness. Honestly, it wasn't like you wanted to avoid him, but you would certainly trade those minutes there for a few more lying in your bed. Maybe with someone else.

"You're still here under Law's orders." He said, trying to bring up a subject that was still unclear to you.

"Of course, it was never in my plans to leave. And you, how has your exploration been?"

Exploring. Ah, the dear excuse for exploring. When Teru decided to leave the crew, he wanted to take you with him. "A great adventure awaits us." But you weren't interested, not at all. In a way, it was as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

"Teru will leave us tomorrow morning." Law leaned against the doorframe, analyzing your figure sitting on the bed. "Have you made your decision?"

"Of course, I never really had any doubts."

"Then why can I see your red eyes from here?" He walked over, leaning on the edge of the bunk. "Do you need me to fix something before he leaves?"

"Fix something?"

"You know, in case he messed up everything." Law explained as if it were obvious, seeing you immediately deny it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Captain. Unless he wants you to solve something for him before you go. Then we'd have a problem." You tried to sound more humorous, smiling slightly when you saw the same trace appear on Law's lips.

"Nah."

"Now you take sides?" Your voice came out intoxicated by a light laugh. "That's surprising."

"I mean, you've been here since when Sachi and Penguin couldn't decide on a menu or when my voice wavered much more than my mood." He himself laughed at the realization. "I mean, there are no sides to be taken." He emphasized the plural.

"He and I don't want the same things. I think it's been a while." You simply answered.

"That relieves me. You know, not having to put up with Ikakku burning panties or Bepo devouring everything in the submarine as a form of protest to defend you." he commented still humorously, but his smile quickly disappeared. "Promise you're okay?"

"Yes, Captain."

For a while you lost yourself in the memory, knowing that it had been so long since Teru had left there and things seemed to improve exponentially.

He wasn't bad or that typical evil guy from the books, he just wasn't the right one for you and that was okay.

"And you, after we broke up, did you meet anyone?" the direct question dragged you back to reality, even though you had ignored the entire summary he had given about his last years.

"Yes, I did." you limited yourself to answering. Theoretically, the person you met you already knew, but those were extremely different circumstances.

"Is he here?"

"Can we not talk about it?" you asked and saw him look suspicious. You didn't want to let this conversation go on long enough for a piece of information to be revealed. important thing escaped. "I believe the captain gave you some tasks, I highly doubt he would leave you idly by."

"Of course! Actually, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. He asked me to accompany you during these days."

Law asked Teru to accompany you? That didn't make any sense. Could that be why he had asked if you still had feelings for your ex? No, that wasn't like him. But after the chaotic morning and the flurry of events, you chose not to question Law. Before you were… (again that question in the depths of your subconscious screamed, questioning what you were)… you were captain and subordinate.

These should have been peaceful days. They should have.

You didn't expect that by accompanying you, Teru would practically become your shadow. Lunches, dinners, absolutely all of your free time, the man seemed to occupy every available gap of air that you had. In the distance, beyond the not-so-warm jokes of your friends, you could see a pair of curious eyes. But you had known him long enough to know that there was nothing curious about that.

What used to be an arm's length away seemed like miles and miles. Law seemed to be looking further and further away, and with Teru at your feet, it was almost impossible to find him alone. This forced you to drag him towards the first bathroom you saw, not caring that it was occupied - thank whatever god that could exist, it was emptier than your brain had been in the last few days.

"Why are you avoiding me?" the question came out harshly from your lips, and with Law looking you up and down, it didn't make you any more comfortable.

"I don't want to take up your precious time…" the sentence seemed to die there. "With Teru." except that the last words came out full of venom.

"Law, you misunderstood."

"No, I didn't misunderstood." He had to control himself and stop acting like a bratty child. But it was impossible. Since when was it so painful to see you interacting with someone else? "I understand that maybe the distance between you two made you rethink something, I understand that…"

"Law, look at me." You tried to reach his chin, but insistent knocks on the door stole your attention.

"Hey, are you there?" Teru calling your name, what a surprise! "I need your help."

"You can go." Law murmured, nodding in the direction of the path.

A few more days, a few more days and this whole deception would be over. Maybe you would sit with Law and finally open your heart and let out all the thousand questions you had. Inside you, there was the fear that he didn't have any of the answers.

The answers lost their importance on one of the nights when a weight settled on top of you. As soon as your eyes opened and met Teru's, you saw your life fly like an arrow between your eyes. That was crossing all limits, absolutely all.

Without needing to hold back, you threw him out of bed and flew at him, your hands reaching for his neck. However, his hands raised as if he were surrendering.

"Calm down, calm down." he asked, trying to get away. "I didn't do anything, I wasn't going to do anything. I just wanted to wake you up."

"And this is how you do shit like this?" you yelled, getting off of him. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"I just wanted to take advantage of the fact that you're alone here and talk." Your trembling hands slid through your hair, trying in vain to gather some calm. "I realized that I still love you and after all this time. Aren't you tired of this, of this life? I can give you something better if you give me a chance."

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, ferocity and indignation drawn on the expression illuminated by a small lamp that you barely know how you turned on.

"Get out of here." Your rational side spoke louder. Your colleagues who occupied the other dorms didn't deserve to have to hear you freak out.

"I believe…"

"Teru, I'm trying to be rational here so please leave. Don't wait for me to decide to be irrational, beat you up and throw you out to sea. We both know in a fight like this who would win."

The man still had the nerve to give you a hurt look, as if you were the crazy one in the whole story. That night, you didn't sleep anymore. Nor the next two.

Teru continued to be inconvenient, the others, unaware of everything you had been through, continued to laugh. Law continued to become more reclusive. Apparently the hurricane of things was limited to your brain.

Three days of stolen shifts, after all, if you were busy working you could find excuses to avoid Teru. Three days without sleep, with only light meals and a more than questionable amount of caffeine in your body.

The room was full, a dinner almost in a celebratory tone for the farewell of a long-time friend. Coincidentally, it meant that your martyrdom was coming to an end the next day.

Your colleagues - and the enemy in question - chatted animatedly around you. The fish on your plate had already swum more than it should have swum when it was still alive. You were exhausted. It was just another day dawning…

"I mean, I can stay a few more days…" Teru's voice stood out, as he flicked your plate, catching your attention. "I just need the right chance."

The jocular tone, the false humor surrounded by a promise that was taking away your peace. It was as if the entire Polar Tang or all the seas decided to go silent at the same time. Maybe your exhaustion didn't allow you to notice that your voice had escalated many, many decibels. Your hands slammed hard against the cafeteria table, silencing everyone around and forcing the man in front of you to retreat.

"Shut the hell up." you shouted, not caring about the higher scales your voice reached. "Shut up! I'm tired, exhausted! I don't want to go back to you, I don't want to give you any more fucking chances. I want to be able to go to my room or at least eat in peace." The dark circles under your eyes and tired expression even indicated that you were exhausted, but everyone knew that you had lost your limits by letting yourself go like that. "It's your fault that I'm in this state, the man I love barely looks at me and I haven't slept for days! I don't want to hear your excuses, I don't want you to grab me or invade my room in the middle of the night. I'm tired of trying to be even the slightest bit polite, that's enough. I don't want to know about you!" After saying each word slowly, you noticed the scandalous silence around you. Damn, you had put on quite a show.

Leaving Teru, your plate and the curious looks aside, you left the room, looking for the first place you could hide and try to think about what you had said. And you had said too much. Back in the Polar Tang cafeteria, curious looks alternated between looking at Teru and where you were.

At one end of the room, a pair of attentive eyes followed you, while each drop of blood seemed to heat up.

"I hadn't noticed." Law heard someone say, in a low tone.

"I thought he was a good person." Another comment hit him.

He didn't want - in fact, he couldn't - think about anything else after the avalanche of information. As his mind permeated with the man I love that came out of your lips, he couldn't deny that he was seeing red in front of him. There was no anger - in fact, he knew very well that that wasn't the feeling he had for you - that would stop him from wanting to protect you at that moment.

"I need to go…" Teru began, ready to follow you. "I need to apologize to her and…"

"Move and you'll be dead." Law's voice came out in an almost monotonous tone, like someone listing some items to buy for the next trip to the market. For those who knew him, they knew that it was almost the same as a death sentence.

With one last look in Teru's direction, the captain of the Heart Pirates decided to follow you. He knew that by the surprised and furious expressions he saw around the room, Teru wouldn't be able to leave so easily.

Finding you was easy. The door to one of the rooms was open and you were circling around nervously.

and from one end to the other even though there wasn't much space for your hasty steps to go around. Law closed the door behind him and that was enough to pull you out of that trance. The two of you remained still for a few seconds, just contemplating each other's existence. It had been days since you had barely been close, let alone locked in the same room.

"Forgive me." He began, intertwining his fingers and trying not to appear as nervous as he was.

"About what? The one who made a scene now was me."

"For not realizing that so much wrong was happening beneath my ignorance." He took a small step towards you. Looking at him was like approaching a small, defenseless puppy, shy and tired eyes looking at him. "I was blind."

"You were busy." Your trembling voice was almost the same as having a thousand daggers cutting him.

"I should never be when it comes to you. But the fact is, I was blinded by silly jealousy." He confessed and released all the air he barely knew he was holding as soon as his hands reached the sides of your arms. "Tell me what I can do for you."

"I think after this, there's not much else to do, right?" You tried to give your best smile. "I think I just want to get some sleep, that's all. Try to clear up all this mess."

"Do you mind explaining to me better what he did to you?" Law saw you lower your head trying to avoid the question. "If you prefer, we can treat this as captain and subordinate, you fill out some things, everything formalized."

"Because I have a feeling I have more than one option."

"Either you tell me here or in my room, not to me as your captain, but as someone who really cares about you, someone who…" He paused, trying not to pressure you or corner you even more. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

"I have this feeling that either choice will result in him being kicked out of here."

"That's up to you." That came out of his lips, while his mind was hoping that you would decide to let him torture Teru in the worst possible ways.

"You're the captain here."

Law took off the hat he was wearing and placed it on your head, carefully adjusting it under your messy hair.

"I'm temporarily naming you captain. I could get some tattoos or find a cooler outfit, but that's going to take a while." He smiled as he heard a light laugh echo from you. "You decide what to do with him. I'll do it, you don't have to deal with this problem anymore."

"Let's just let him go, please. He made a mistake, I know, but I want this to just end, without too much drama." You suggested and saw him close his smile immediately. "Is there a problem?"

"I thought it would be something more like please cut him into a thousand pieces or please beat him up." He tried to imitate it poorly and realized that you weren't joking. "Consider it done."

"Law?" your hands brought him even closer to you and it wasn't like you needed to bring into the world what you wanted.

Before he even reached your lips, Law allowed his face to slide along the side of your neck as he pressed himself against your body. Something exquisite like feeling you there, something possessive like marking you as his.

Only then did his lips capture yours in a way that seemed calm but the more he stole your mouth to his you noticed even more urgency, more repressed desire after the long week apart. He tried to move away just enough for the two of you to catch a few seconds of air to remember that you were in the middle of some random room at Polar Tang and that there was an entire crew waiting for the man to reappear and make a definitive decision.

"I need to go." He murmured even though he didn't want to. There was a strange feeling of belonging every time his arms were intertwined with your body. "I need to tell everyone…" he made a move to walk away but was stopped by your hands.

"We can't leave it for later, it's just… I missed you." you confessed and he nodded, as if he was savoring the words that came out of you.

"I'm sorry, but no." he genuinely seemed disappointed. "I missed you, but I think I need to go there, take sides."

"And then?"

"Then you'll accompany me to my room, more precisely to my bed…"

"Law." your voice sounded like a warning and ignoring what you were saying, he pressed his body against yours, however you couldn't feel any malice in that.

"More precisely to my bed so you can get a decent night's sleep. No one will disturb you there, I promise." he finished, seeing you smile shyly. "I told you, I just want to take care of you."

Like magnets, your hands once again intertwined around him at the same time that your lips sought his. It didn't seem necessary to deepen the kiss, it was as if your own body just needed to feel Law's presence there, his scent.

His lips were mixed with yours, his lips glued to your mouth. Your tongues danced slowly like a small intimate rediscovery between the two of you. It didn't last long, long enough for him to hold you against his arms.

"I was an idiot, I know, I promise never to act like that again." He murmured against your skin, hugging you tightly before letting you go. "Ready to go?" He held out his hand to you. "I just need to talk to Bepo and Clione first."

"But this…" First you put his hat back on him and then you handed him your hand, and he immediately started walking with his fingers intertwined with yours.

"I said. I'm ready to take sides." He simply replied.

The big room seemed intact like a work of art. Everyone was standing in the same position, except that you could hear some murmurs. One of the only things different was Teru. His confident posture had been replaced by him with his hands under his face, looking nervous. As soon as he noticed the presence of the two of you, he seemed to regain a little of what had disappeared. You didn't want to argue anymore, things seemed clearly resolved. So when you saw him walking towards you, your only reaction was to hold the hand tied to yours even tighter, which seemed to catch Law's attention.

"Hey, I wanted to apologize for…"

"Stop talking." Law limited himself to saying even though he refused to look the man in the face. "Bepo, Clione, please let me know as soon as we're ready to dock at the next island. Until I'm informed, no one leaves the Polar Tang."

"Yes, captain!"

"Do you want to go to our bedroom and rest?" Ikkaku approached you, proposing with a gentle smile. "We're sorry we didn't notice anything before."

"It's okay." You nodded, smiling in her direction. "I just needed to get that off my chest."

"Ikkaku, don't worry." Law turned to her. "On second thought, I think it would be a good idea for you to sleep with Shachi and Penguin or with someone, wherever is more comfortable." Law pointed out, unable to resist glancing at Teru sideways. "I won't cage his, but I also don't know how comfortable I am knowing that someone is capable of breaking into other people's rooms."

"That's a great idea, thank you, Captain."

"You're all dismissed."

Law once again began to guide you, this time to the opposite side. As soon as he opened the bedroom door, he made room for you to enter. The environment became increasingly familiar to you, even though it was still full of books and comics scattered around.

"Are you sure I won't get in your way?" you insisted and instead of hearing the answer come out of his lips, you only felt his arms encircle you and guide you in not-so-aligned steps to the bed. "Can I take that as a no?"

"You can take that as a no, it's my pleasure to have you here." He said in a light tone, the opposite of what you had heard earlier. "Before you rest, I need to know something."

"What do you want to know?" Your voice was shaky, thinking about what you had shouted at the top of your lungs. As soon as you sat up in bed, you had to hold back a light laugh when you saw Law lift your legs and arrange some pillows.

"What did he do?" He sat up, indicating that you should lie down. "I mean, I know he did enough to upset you and that you asked me to take it easy, but I need to know under what exact conditions I can send him away from here."

"And what would the options be?"

"That depends on what you tell me." One of his hands rested on your thigh, in an almost imperceptible caress. "He can leave here, walking on his own two feet or he can leave here in pieces, straight to the bottom of the sea. In short, of course."

"He didn't do anything serious. I think that, apart from the day he broke into the room, he was just being inconvenient. I think most of my outburst was just a rant." You explained and saw that he seemed to be thinking about the next words he was going to say. "What I said there…"

"It's okay." He tried to reassure you even though he was mesmerized by how lovely you looked lying on his bed. "You need to rest, we have all the time in the world to talk later."

"Law?" Only a low grumble came from his lips, encouraging you to continue. "Can you stay here?"

"Yes, of course."

The idea at first was to climb over you and head to the other side of the bed. However, you seemed to have very different plans. Your legs closed against Law's waist and your torso raised enough to pull him towards you.

He didn't need any more tips than that. As soon as his body fell on top of yours, your lips were locked against his and even with all the desire, you could feel him withdrawing.

"I need you." You mumbled against his neck feeling him growl against you, fighting against his own will.

"Babe not today."

God, Law knew he had never needed to have as much self-control as he was having at that moment. And it wasn't that he didn't want you - quite the opposite, since his hips moved in search of some kind of friction against you. It was just a mix of guilt for everything that had happened and concern. He just wanted to see you well.

"I missed you so much, I just need to feel you even if it's just a little." Again the sly tone against him.

"You just need to feel me, huh?" His tone was a few octaves lower and rougher as his hand slid down your body.

His lips didn't leave yours as his hand roamed your body. Fingers slowly gliding over your skin, pushing aside any type of fabric he could find along the way. Wet kisses ran down your neck to your nipple, eliciting gasps that matched the arch that was forming in your back. More contact, more pleasure, you needed more Law.

Two fingers slid through the damp fabric of your panties, sliding there unpretentiously, waiting for you to release the last thread of sanity.

"Law, please, I need you."

"Me? What do you need?" He set the fabric aside, letting his finger slide away from where you needed it most.

The blue dome formed over the two of you before you could understand the word he had said and there was something almost poetic about how he could use the same thing to do devastating things - like dismember, kill or press his fingers into the place that burned you the most.

"M-more." A strangled moan escaped your lips in a brief moment you forgot you didn't need to hold back.

"Babe you need to rest so let's not go through much of this today." He said with a mischievous smile as he noticed the frustration in your expression. "I think I can give a little more to my girl." His middle finger penetrated you slowly feeling you contract and moan slowly as your hips sought more and more. "Do you want anything else?"

You mumbled something he could barely understand not that he cared much about it at the moment. The way your body tangled against his made it clearer than any words could.

"Can you take one more?" His ring finger joined his middle finger inside you as his palm began to rub against your clit. "It's right here, isn't it, sweetheart? I can feel it."

"Just don't… don't stop."

"It's just you and me here, babe. Come on, I can feel you squeezing me. I've missed this pussy, so much." The dirtiest words were whispered against your ear as if someone could break the dome between the two of you. "Do you want to cum? I know you do, give it to me. Just give it to me, sweetheart."

Legs trembling, a blank vision and a scream that would surely be etched in your throat. Before you opened your eyes, you could feel something against your face. Once, twice, three times. A few small kisses spread almost chastely across your skin.

"Are you okay?" Law's eyes were immediately above yours. "It seemed intense."

"It didn't just seem like it."

You laughed, feeling the weight of his body on top of yours, but not for long as he adjusted himself and lay down, forcing you to fit into his arms. You could feel his breath against your skin as his fingers caressed your skin. At that moment, you wanted to say so much. So many feelings that could easily become a waterfall of words, but in the end, they were summed up in just three of them. Three words that you felt like they were being said against your skin before your eyes closed.

Maybe it was tiredness or maybe it was because you were sleeping in a much more comfortable place than you were used to. You were definitely getting used to being there, or else you wouldn't have rolled over in bed looking for someone else.

As soon as you did your morning routine and went to find your tasks, you found your corner of the board empty, your tasks redistributed to others.

"You need this." Shachi tapped your shoulder as he passed, knowing that you were probably confused by your huge list. "Take a rest, after all, we're only going to give you this gift today."

"Thanks, I guess."

You could use a few more hours of rest, even though you didn't know if you'd be able to sleep any longer. The small memory of the night before came to your mind. You couldn't have gotten it wrong, could you?

The walk to Law's room seemed like an eternity and you made sure to distract yourself with anything you found along the way, a way to gain even more time for your final decision.

When you opened the bedroom door, you found Law sitting on the bed as if he already knew you'd be back there.

"I heard you got the day off." In an unexpected gesture, your legs guided you until they stopped in front of him.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked and you nodded. "And did you eat?" Again, the same gesture. "What's going on then?"

Your fingers itched, gathering courage or at least trying to find something to do with your hands. They had never been so restless, so lost. Maybe that was reflected in your frightened expression since the reaction didn't come from you but Law. His hands pulled you by the waist until your legs circled his body, fitting on top of him without any kind of malice. It was as if that path had become the favorite route for both of you.

And then there it was. Law's worried yet sweet tone and his eyes attentive to your every move, his hands clasped around your waist as a mix of marking himself present and also as a guarantee that he would keep you there, next to him.

It was almost cathartic to understand that, something so big and in such a few milliseconds. It bordered on frightening while at the same time taking away all the fear you were facing.

"I love you." The words came out like that, light as someone saying a simple good morning. As if it was the thing you said to him every morning. "I think I love you. I'm sure, actually, I love you." and there it was, all the confusion, all the butterflies in your stomach wanting to fly out at once.

Cathartic. Just like the smile that appeared on his lips, that lit up your captain's eyes.

"I love you." Coming from him, it sounded like a relief. As if that secret had been kept for too long. "I've loved you for longer than I can even calculate and that's a little scary. I hate myself for acting the way I have in the last few days."

"Don't worry, I think I love you enough for both of us."

For a long time, you were against romance books. The story of the kiss of love, all the drama surrounding it seemed not to suit you. Or your other relationships. Or Law's stolen kisses. Or the idea that your greatest closeness began with something that goes beyond a kiss.

But there it was, lips on lips, his hands moving up your back and your mouth giving way to him. That was a kiss, one of those that took your breath away before his tongue even explored yours.

His hands on your back were replaced by the comfortable mattress. His white t-shirt was thrown somewhere you would worry about later. Your clothes met the same fate and you both couldn't be less worried about it.

"Just tell me you need me, please." He whispered against your skin, his lips descending to your belly. "Babe, please."

"I'll always need you."

This time he didn't tease you, he just dove into your intimacy. Honey and saliva mixed in his mouth and that was certainly the best thing he had ever tasted. Your hips sought more and more and he would give it to you, with all pleasure. Your explosion didn't take long to arrive and before you became too sensitive, your fingers tangled in his dark strands, pulling him back.

"Any lessons for today?" you teased him as he fit between your legs.

"No. Today I want to learn." His cock rubbed against your thighs, a hard resistance as he was getting closer and closer to where you both wanted. "I want you to tell me what you like, what you want."

"Just you." Your legs circled him, you could feel the tip of his cock brush against your entrance and sink in inch by inch. "Fuck!"

"That's my intention." He chuckled against your skin and swallowed your moans against a kiss as your intimacy swallowed him completely.

Slow thrusts drew small moans from you. Damn, it would be hard to control like this and Law knew he was in no condition to focus on anything other than you. Other than your body around him, your moans and requests for more and more against his ear.

The speed increased and by that time someone had certainly already heard you, not that he cared. His fingers intertwined with yours.

"I can feel you… oh fuck, babe I can't hold it in much longer." He moaned against your skin, thrusting without much rhythm, but more and more intensely. "Cum with me, love, please."

The request was enough, the simple request for you to contract against him and for him to spill himself against you. Almost like a perfectly orchestrated symphony.

Law didn't want to let you go, ever, but even more so at that moment. Only when he managed to breathe properly again - and you were still a little breathless and airy - did he pull out of you, only to let himself go and pull you against his chest.

"Shit." Your mumble caught his attention. "You know everyone heard, right? They're sure to make fun of me."

"It's a shame." He laughed, letting his face sink into your hair. "Lucky for you you're off today."

"Yeah, lucky indeed. I can get locked up here."

"And lucky also that you're dating the captain." He blurted out the information, expecting a reaction from you. A complaint, a grumble, but in return, he only found your almost incredulous smile.

"Are you kidding me isn't it?"

"I can get down on one knee, I can buy you a bunch of flowers, I can book an amazing restaurant just for you." He started listing, seeing you look at him with shining eyes. "Whatever makes you happy, as long as you agree to be my girlfriend."

"I accept. Can you say that again?" you asked and saw him pretend to try to remember something, even scratching his head.

"Okay, low blow." he said with a laugh, as you started to give him some pinches. "I love you."

And little did you know that that morning he disappeared, initially to teach Teru a lesson, to make him regret every single thing. But your words remained in his mind, your request to just let him go and for the first time in a while Law wanted to follow someone's order - your request. That's how he changed his course and didn't add "give you a ring" to the list of things he would do for you, after all the jewel had been bought that morning and he couldn't wait to see you wear it.

[simp4konig]

Goodbye, tumblr.

Hey, everyone!

It's been a while since I've updated — and, I'll have you know, that this will be the last time that I'll be updating.

From 20th August 2023 to 9th November 2024 I've been posting fanfictions: first, with König; then, once with Ghost; finally, with Nikto. As of right now, I have 770 followers. At some point, I even had over 850.

First of all, thank you for these last seventeen months. Initially, I was a lurker here on tumblr. Aside from a single short, obscure fanfiction with König, I didn't post much else — that is, until @puff0o0 inspired me with her self-aware König au.

My self-aware König fanfiction exploded, and it remains my most popular post to this day. My other successes have been "König mistakenly shooting you on the battlefield" and "Intimate König headcanons". Another of my all-time most popular posts was "Zombie Apocalypse AU with Ghost" — that one made a lot of you cry. I am not sorry. Thank you for sharing your emotions with me, because seeing your comments made me smile, and satisfied that my work was poignant enough to invoke so many tears in many of you.

Finally, for Nikto, my "General headcanons", "Flirtatious Reader x ...Dense? Nikto", "Obsessed! Nikto", "Fem! Reader Asking Nikto To Clasp Her Bra", and "Reader fussing over Nikto's injury" all were popular, and these posts in particular received a lot of feedback, comments, reblogs, and asks afterwards, which I am thankful for.

My decision to quit tumblr isn't impulsive — I've been considering this ever since the AI craze was trending and the several times that COD drama was prevalent. Other reasons include the fact that I am bombarded with goddamn porn and NSFW content as soon as I open the app, wasting time scrolling absentmindedly when I could be more productive and accomplish something more, loss of interest in COD, loss of interest in posting publicly, a phobia of having my work copied and/or stolen, as well as my envy of other creators, which can write two paragraphs and receive thousands of notes, while I can pour my heart and soul into my stories, and receive a few hundred — the last point in particular was the most discouraging.

While all of these are factors contributing to my choice to leave, there's one that's far simpler than any of them: I just don't feel like it anymore.

Truth be told, writing has been and always will be a hobby. This blog was initially a hobby which I indulged in, yet it overtime became a chore. Nowadays, posting has been less for pleasure and more to satisfy you guys, because I hate to deprive you of content when you follow me and have been loyal for so long.

That's not to say that I'm quitting writing! Not at all. I'll still be writing! Writing stories is still my passion, as is reading. I just won't be posting publicly anymore.

Thank you all for supporting me during my teen years. 16 was — contrary to what pop culture would lead you to believe — not sweet. I'll be 18 soon, and the interactions that I've had with you all have shaped my view of people, and I have received so many kind comments, personal messages, asks, and reblogs. And no, I am not 18. I was 15 when I made this blog. Writing has been my passion since I was 12, or so? Since I have nothing to lose, I might as well be honest with everyone now.

Now, the thank yous to my mutuals:

@puff0o0 — was life a celebrity to me when I first started writing. 😱 When you followed me back, I was so so happy! You were my best friend, and even if we've drifted apart, I still wish you all the best. 🫂💞🩷💗❤️💖✨

@m-carriaga2021 — my first ever follower! 🥳🎉🎊

@best-soup — someone who was kind when I first started out, which meant a lot to me. ❤️💗🩷

@lvl3r-002 — my own No.1 fan?!! What an honour!!! 🥹🥹🥹 Thanks for your unconditional support and encouragement, Azzy. ❤️❤️❤️

@muffinscoffee, @allaboutirem0, @simpforkonig, @dustycrusty09, @thestirringpot, @god-o-bees — left comments which made me smile. ☺️💞💞💞

@nevadancitizen — wrote a self-aware au fanfiction inspired by me?!! 😭💘💘 Your reblogs were wonderful, too. The notes, comments, and even analysis that you added in the tags were really meaningful, and such feedback was so, so kind. 🥹💖✨

@aethelwyneleigh27 — also like a celebrity to me. I was SHOOK when I found out that you were following me?!! 😭😭😭💞💖 Will forever remember our boop wars. 🤭🩷😽😻🐾

@dobbie-doo — randomly started messaging me out of the blue on tumblr, and over-time, we became good friends. Thank you. 🤍❤️💙

@tomurderornottomurder — I couldn't stop thinking about your reblog of my Zombie Apocalypse AU with Ghost for a week straight. I'd open tumblr just to reread the tags. 🥹💗💞🩷

@zoloftwithdrawalnausea — an amazing artist. How I received the privilege of being mutuals with such a talented individual as yourself boggles the mind, honestly. 🤯💥 Wishing you all the best with all your studies, and maybe you'll one day meet your 100 Niktos goal! 🥰❤️💕💞🩷✍️

@willthegrouch — another exceptional artist. I have no fucking clue how I managed to become mutuals with someone who's painting digital masterpieces. 🤯💥 Good luck in your future, and all the best in your art. 🩷🙏

@dom-lly — Again?!! Another brilliant artist?!! 😭😭😭 When I got followed back I right about DIED. 🪦 Your art for Jujutsu Kaisen is SO fucking GOOD (and that isn't selling it enough). I have never watched JJK but seeing your art occasionally pop up was wonderful. Your work is awesome. 👏👏👏💖

@unhingedpolycule — amazing artist and witty writer. Love Love LOVEEE all of your content about Krueger x Nikto. Not only is your art stupendous, but your writing and ideas are clever, too. It was an honour to be your mutual. 🩷🩷🩷

@goarristars — you produce stunning artworks and I consider your rendition of Nikto's face as canon, full-stop. No one can tell me otherwise. 🗣️‼️ Your work is awesome, and I hope that you continue to pursue art, as you're really talented. 🎨❤️💛💚

Quiet lurkers include @marigoldpollen, @eevee-of-eternity, @miss-multi45, @bellaluvsmakarov, and @shroompette — I noticed you, and thank you for being here! ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you to @revnatheshadow for your support and kind words, @kawaiiexpertcowboy for sending me a message and telling me how much you liked the Ghost faction, and @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe for your spam — unexpected, but extremely nice to see after having been absent for so long! ❤️❤️❤️

@itsagrimm — we've drifted apart, but it's for the best, since I was never sincere about my age to anyone, and not to you, either. Still, I will never forget our exchanges about Nikto and Metro that made us good friends for a while. Without meaning to, you taught me a lot about life, opened my eyes and made me less close-minded, offered me a ton of information I hadn't previously known, been strong support for me when things were rough with my parents, and have been kind, witty, clever, patient, interesting, and inspiring. Sure, you could say that you're ordinary and not extraordinary enough to be an inspiration, but you are to me. I'm actually studying Law now in college, and it's super interesting! I'm predicted to have an A*, and it's achievable! My dream is to study Russian alongside Spanish at university, and get a Modern Languages Degree. Thank you for everything — I wish you all the best.

And thank you to all of my followers — those that have been following me from the start, are still following me, were followers but unfollowed, and the recent ones.

Thank you everyone. For everything.

And goodbye.

[princesserica84]

Howdy, let me start off with no hate for you just here trying to help clear up a few things it seems from your post you dont know which is normal since you no a US citizen. again just trying to help you understand not an attack just trying help. 1 on the whole nazi wave https://www.tumblr.com/busterballsblog/773398848248987648?source=share also post is not the full clip here https://youtu.be/5e5Dz2EvuOY?si=NPvB0sq5Qjk2NHDK these should help you better see the whole story and facts. 2 UK, CA, GR,FR all have hate speech as a legal thing in the USA its already been ruled by highest court and even liberal judges agreed no such thing as hate speech in this USA. where each of the nations i listed have jailed people based on their words some where even jokes on stage. but in USA we have the right to say anything but a DIRECT call to action. but just as we each have the right of free speech means all sides have a voice to say as they wish. something that very different our rights listed out in black and white cant be taken away by government for any reason where yours and UK, FR and GR can and have been in name of "Greater Good". in USA its about the 1 not the Greater Good when it comes to rights. 3 on whole trans topic here the the issue its illegal to force someone to talk a set way in the usa. just as your name is Erica you cant force people to call you that they can say HEY YOU or they can call you E all they want and no law is broken in the USA. next part of this is wanting tax payers to fund trans medical issues that are not life threatening is not our way not because they trans but because they have no right to my money. also their proof this has been forced on kids ie people under 18 which is in fact grounds to remove and sue a teacher for forcing their views on kids at school. 4 you clearly listen to USA media well do you know that ABC , NBC, CNN , MSNBC all paid out 100s of millions of dollars in just 3 lawsuits for openly lied about the story and people in it. ABC even had pay Trump 15 million for a lie they told about Trump. so frankly trusting them is not really an option even for liberals have had to admit they wrong. 5 you bring up removing of rights https://www.archives.gov/founding-docs/bill-of-rights-transcript please take a look at our rights and can you link abortions to any right you see listed. ( i am assuming this is right you talking about due to your words. mind you while your looking at our rights look at 2A and then notice how liberals seek to remove rights on guns. i use this as example of how the very view that the right seeks to take away rights is not based in any logic and in fact the left is seeking to remove a right openly. again i hope this helps you understand our system in a fair and balanced way. btw i been from quebec to toronto i will say being that im Texan i understand qubec people the best in CA i have a number of pals up their and yea. to give you idea why people like me love your snow is my city just got 3 inches of snow that all the snow we gotten since 2018 and my summers are 110 F or in the 40s C in the shade with 100% humidity. anyway hope this helps you understand better again no hate just trying to help and i will leave you with how Texans see the rest of north America LOL hope you enjoy the fun joke again no hate just trying help you smile. and if you have any question here or DM me is fine just trying share some help.

^^ I give you, the American education system

Look, I disagree with everything you are saying.

If you want to talk about taking rights away, I'll give you this. A lot of pregnant women have died recently because the hospitals are not able to perform abortions. Today, there was a school shooting in Nashville that killed a 17 year old and injured another. If abortions were legal, and you have gun laws in place that weren't written in the 17th century, many people would still be alive. This isn't opinion, this is fact.

Deaths in Canada caused by guns in 2023: less than 300

Deaths in USA caused by guns in 2023: over 43,000

There's honestly too much wrong with your entire message. I don't think I'm the right person to respond so I will leave it to everyone else.

Also, just so you are aware, your "map" did not make me laugh. It offends me. Canada is my home and I would much rather live here (with free healthcare, gun laws that weren't written over 200 years ago, the right for me to make a decision on my own body, and a place where my transgender friends are free to be who they are) than live in fucking texas.

[anxiousthoughts365]

Friendship

TW: Disabled Remus, language, Snape bashing

'Fuck off, Snape.'

'It's a simple enough question, Potter,' Snape drawled, jogging to keep pace with James, who was stomping down corridor after corridor in an effort to get rid of the boy. 'Why would Regulus come to you, of all people, when he was so clearly distraught when his own brother did just that two years ago? Rather suspicious, don't you agree?'

James clenched his teeth against the retort that tried to claw it's way out of his throat. Snape had been following him since he'd somehow let slip about Regulus coming to live with them over the past summer, determined to find out why Regulus had chosen James as his refuge. But his and Regulus' relationship wasn't common knowledge, and there was nothing he could say that wouldn't give Snape some sort of fodder, so he was doing his best to just stay quiet.

James still couldn't quite remember how Snape had gotten him talking about the younger Black brother while they'd been forced into a partnership in Potions class, but of course Snape had latched onto the tiny tidbit of information and was running with it.

He'd calmly told the Slytherin, more than once, that it wasn't his story to tell. But the slimy boy just would not let the matter drop, and he was really starting to piss James off. The only thing keeping him from punching Snape in the mouth was that Remus, Sirius and Peter were right behind him, and the knowledge helped him to keep his cool. Almost.

'Unless, of course,' Snape sneered, relentless as ever when it came to riling James Potter. 'There's reason why he might run into the arms of someone that his family hates? Unless there's some deeper connection here, something that the young Black might not want everyone to see?'

'I said fuck off, Snivellus!' James snapped, his heart racing with sudden fear at the insinuation. One more taunt, and Merlin help him, he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

'Oh, that's it, isn't it?' Snape gasped, pressing one hand over his heart in mock surprise while his thin lips turned up in a sly smirk. 'Regulus Black, the second sibling in this school to desert the Noble House of Black, goes running at the first sign of danger, and runs right into the arms of his big strong saviour and -'

Snape's words were suddenly cut off by a sharp screech, and James' head snapped up to see the boy falling face-first down the set of stairs to their left. He gaped, looking around him to try and figure out what had happened, and turned just in time to watch Sirius wrap an arm around Remus' waist as the tall boy wobbled. It wasn't until the end of his friend's cane connected with the floor again that James understood what had happened.

'Vile little cockroach,' Remus growled, his amber eyes narrowed and his scarred nose scrunched up in distaste as he watched Snape bounce down step after step, whining all the way. James felt something tighten in his chest, gratitude and admiration welling inside him.

'Moony,' he breathed. 'Did you just -'

'He did,' Sirius interrupted, sounding just as awed as James felt. Remus looked up again at his boyfriend's voice, and seemed surprised to find the others staring at him with such evident worship. Then Sirius was stepping in close, wrapping his other arm around Remus and gazing at him as he added, 'That was bloody brilliant, Moons. Merlin, I love you. So fucking much. I -'

'Yes, yes, we all love Remus,' Peter hissed, grabbing Sirius' collar and dragging him backwards, in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. 'You can give our comrade his well-deserved reward later - preferably when I'm asleep and oblivious - but right now, we need to be very much not here.'

Sirius seemed about to protest, but at that moment Snape landed in a noisy heap at the bottom of the stairs, and the four boys made quick use of their extensive knowledge of Hogwarts' secret passageways to disappear.

[angelatmidnight1]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

A/N: I've had a stressful couple of weeks and wanted to write a quick story with ler!Astarion and lee!reader. This was inspired by one of the helping lines he has where he says "you look good helpless". @tickly-deer-boy here is a quick Astarion fic!

Summary- Tav is stuck, and Astarion comes to get them out of trouble. He had no idea that they were ticklish…and gods, is it entertaining. 

Paring- Astarion x Tav (platonic).

Word Count- 1.8k.

Warnings- None. But please note this is a tickle fic!

Tav grunted in frustration as they tried to wriggle free from the narrow space between the crates. Their movements only caused them to get more wedged in the spot. They were reaching forward, straining to reach Lae’zel’s outstretched hand, only to just be out of her reach. 

“K’chaki. I told you to go around.” Lae’zel grumbled in exasperation. She withdrew her hand. “We waste precious time while you struggle. At any moment, we could become ghaik.” 

“I know that,” Tav groaned and tried to launch themselves forward. They barely moved an inch, and now their waist was fully stuck between the crates. “It’s almost like you’ve been saying the same thing since we crashed! If you’d shut up and give me your hand, I’d be out of here already.”

“You cannot reach my hand,” Lae’zel pointed out as if it was as obvious as day. “And I have no time to wait and make up for your shortcomings. Had I known you would slow me down, I would have left you to your fate on the nautolid.” 

“And you would have no astral prism. You’d turn into a mindflayer before me,” Tav grunted and decided to change tactics, twisting their hips to try and dislodge themselves. It didn’t work. Lae’zel checked her pack, believing she’d been the one carrying it, only for Tav to give a mocking sneer. “Honestly, it’d be an improvement. You wouldn’t be talking so much if you had a mouth full of tentacles.”

Lae’zel scowled. She took a step forward, hand on the hilt of her sword. “You think it’s wise to provoke me in your position?”

Before you could challenge her, Astarion’s silky voice sounded from somewhere behind you. “Now now, darlings. Let’s not turn our blades on each other. We’ve so many enemies we could stab instead..”

Tav heard the sound of his shoes crunching over gravel as he approached them. The sound stopped when he froze, taking in the scene of the trapped leader in front of him. “Oh. Oh dear. Someone’s gotten themselves in a spot of trouble, hm?”

Tav didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking. They bristled, and they would’ve turned to leer at them if they hadn’t been pinned at the waist. “Hilarious, Astarion. Truly. How about doing something useful and helping me?”

The vampire clicked his tongue. “My, so touchy. I’m almost tempted to leave you there. Who knows what a less friendly adventurer would do if they found you?”

“You wouldn’t,” Tav retorted. “You’d miss me too much. Who else would wake up day after day to tell you how handsome you are?” 

“Cheeky,” Astarion smirked. “Still, I’m not convinced to help you. If only there was a word you could say that would make me reconsider. Something like, oh, I don’t know…please?”

“To hells with that,” Tav palmed the sides of the crates and pushed at them. Besides the occasional, minuscule move, they remained right where they were. Their face contorted with exertion, and they heard Astarion snickering behind them. 

“That’s four words, and I'm not looking for any of them.” Astarion stepped closer and leaned against the crates. “But by all means, keep squirming. You look good helpless…”

The heat rose to their cheeks, or maybe that was from all of their struggling? Tav wasn’t sure. They gave up on pushing the crates and twisting their body to and fro. Then, exhaling through their nose, they grumbled, “Fine. Please help me, Astarion. There, happy?”

“Your groveling skills need work,” he snorted. “But it would be cruel for me to expect a grand performance in your state. So of course, my dear, I’ll help you.” Astarion moved behind them, hands outstretching to rest on their sides. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and he rotated them to determine the best angle to pull them from. The light touches sent shivers up their spine, though he didn’t seem to notice. If anything, Tav would’ve chalked it up to the cold. Astarion moved his hands higher, now resting just below their rib cage. His fingers slid along their skin, looking for gods know what, and they jolted.

“What are you doing?” Tav cried incredulously. Lucky for them, he couldn’t see the grin tugging at the corner of their lips.  Lae’zel had already stormed off, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Helping you. Obviously.” Astarion rolled his eyes and readjusted his hold, returning to their sides. This time, he was squeezing them in an attempt to get a better grip. “And I’d have an easier time if you would hold still.” 

Tav choked on a giggle. They did the opposite of what he said and fidgeted some more. Suddenly, the impossible feat of getting themselves out on their own didn’t sound all that impossible. “Forget it, Astarion. I’ll d-do it myself..”

“Nonsense. Stop squirming, and I’ll pull you out.” 

“No, but-” 

Astarion’s fingers ghosted over their stomach, and they squeaked. He froze, and Tav felt their heart do somersaults in their chest. 

“What is the matter with you?” Astarion took his hands away from their belly, fingers resting just above their hips. The confusion was as clear as day in his voice. “You’re acting as if I’m hurting you.”

Tav remained quiet. They feared that they’d end up giggling if they spoke. 

“Tav? Am I hurting you?”

“...No.” Tav hesitated, shaking their head. They wracked their mind for a plausible explanation. “It’s just, uh, your hands. They’re cold.”

“Cold enough to feel through your clothing?” Astarion raised a brow, tone flat. “Odd. You haven’t told me that before..”

Tav didn’t even believe the tale they’d spun. “W-Well, they’re just that c—ah!” Tav squealed when he lightly pinched their hip. “Don’t do that!”

They went to smack at his hand, but hit one of the crates instead. Although they couldn’t see it, Astarion’s eyes brightened with mischief. 

“Oh, now I understand…” Astarion grinned a predatory grin, rolling his knuckles against their hip. Tav squirmed, biting down on their lip to trap the impending giggles. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”

“Noho!” The word alone sent butterflies in their stomach. They brought one of their hands up to their mouth, their other hand uselessly hitting the top of the crates. “Damn it Astarion, just pull me ouhuhut!”

“I’m trying, Tav, but you’re not making this easy for me.” Astarion shuffled closer to them, now using his thumbs to deliberately knead into their hips. Tav gasped and giggled into their hand, feet stomping into the dirt. “It’s impossible to get a good grip with you kicking around like this..”

“You’re nohoht trying!” Tav argued, bucking their hips as Astarion kept kneading into them. The ticklish sensations surged through them like electric shocks, and it was harder to suppress their frantic giggling. “Gah! S-Shihihit! When I get out of hehehehre, you’re dehehehad!”

“I’m already dead,” Astarion snorted. “But do tell me, what is so funny? Surely I am not tickling you?”

Tav growled in between their giggles. They giggled harder when he changed tactics and squeezed their hips again, again, and again. Both hands flew to their mouth to muffle their squeals. 

“Darling,” Astarion purred, “I need an answer.” 

“Gohoho to hehehell!” The dam broke, and Tav giggled freely. They twisted and bucked as much as their trapped position allowed, clawing at the crates. “Stohohohp it!”

“Stop what?” Astarion feigned confusion, nails skittering along their waistline. “I’m only trying to help, just as you asked! You’re stuck in here good, I’m afraid.”

“Nohoho! I’ll f-freehehee myself!” Tav sputtered as he dragged his nails up their belly. They shouted and shook their head back and forth, laughing loudly. “Let gOHOHOhahaha!”

“I can’t do that, dear. That would make me a terrible friend,” Astarion tutted. He stopped scritching at their belly, teasing their sides with featherlight strokes. “And, while I’m on the topic, do you know what else sours a friendship?”

Tav’s laughter died down to short, breathless giggles. Their cheeks were well beyond flushed, and they fidgeted in anticipation. “I—hah—don’t know... what?”

“Lying,” Astarion grinned and gently pinched just beneath their rib cage. Tav squealed and bucked. “For instance, pretending not to be delightfully ticklish when you very clearly are.”

Tav’s eyes widened, panic flashing across their face. “I’m—I'm nohot—”

“Ah-ah, there it is again.” Astarion double downed on his efforts, kneading one of his thumbs into the side of their belly. Tav shrieked and kicked their legs uselessly, falling back into another laughing fit. “You are an insolent little pup, aren’t you? Lying is one thing, but lying to a friend? Lying to me?” 

As if they weren’t already stuck enough, Astarion wrapped his free arm around their waist, making it much harder to squirm or kick. He continued tickling their stomach, alternating between gently scratching along their skin with his nails and kneading with his thumb. He moved at a leisurely pace, as if he had all the time in the world. And, truth be told, he did. Tav’s laughter took on a more desperate note, and they threw their head back. 

“NAHAHA! Alright! Okay! I’m sohohohorry!” Tav shouted and pounded their fist against the damned crates. They doubled over, or at least made an effort to, and squealed with laughter. “I’m sohohohohrry!”

“So you are,” he hummed. “And yet, I’m not fully convinced. You’ve already lied to me once. Who’s to say you aren’t doing it again?” He dropped to his knees, lazily raking his nails down the backs of their thighs. Tav shrieked and kicked around even more. 

“I’m nOHOHOHohohot! I’m not!!” Tav grit their teeth and giggled madly. They tried to lift their legs out of his reach, but he chased after them with minimal effort. “PLehehehehease! I’m nohoht lying!”

Astarion laughed. “You learn fast. It’s still a no, though. I’m just gutted that you would lie to me.” He pretended to sound sad while he spidered his nails along the backs of their knees. Tav howled, curling in on themselves as much as possible. “After all of the time we spent together! After I offered to help you..” 

Tav cackled when one of Astarion’s hands snuck back up to prod at their belly. He swirled his pointer finger in random patterns, scritching just shy of their hip bones, around their navel, and ending at their lowermost ribs. He did the same thing in reverse, eventually settling back on the ground to squeeze and tickle their knees and thighs. His fearless leader was a puddle of squeals and giggles, and that’s one crime he was happy to be guilty of. 

“I CAHAHAHN’T!” Tav went back to pounding their fists against the crates, eyes shining with tears. “Astarion, plehehehehehease!”

After what felt like forever, Astarion stopped tickling them. He gripped their hips and, with one firm pull, dislodged them from their trap. They fell back into him, and he held them up, still by their hips. “There you are, you’re free!” he snickered. “You’re welcome.”

Tav exhaled, shutting their eyes. They were coming down from the ticklish sensations, chest rising and falling from each breath they took. They were still smiling a bit, so what they said next had very little bite. “Bastard.”

“Careful,” Astarion tapped his fingers against their hips, and Tav lurched forward. “We wouldn’t want this little secret to slip to any of our friends, hm?” 

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97

I let out a deep breath while pulling my jacket closer to my chest as I continued the walk down the busy streets of New York City. It was after six in the evening and everyone was rushing to get home to enjoy the rest of their evening while I was trying to make it to the office in time, before he left. 

This wasn’t an easy decision I made, knowing the consequences that could follow. But I didn’t have any other choice. He was the only one that could help me with this.  

The thought of if he would even want to help me did cross my mind a few times, especially with how things ended, but there was a small part of me that hoped his feelings for me were still strong. Strictly to help me with my problem, nothing else. 

I hadn't talked to any of the three men I used to work with, deciding to stay off of social media because I couldn’t bother to see what happened with Bucky and Natasha. By now, he had to have realized that I was right; Natasha was faking the entire pregnancy. 

Yet, I hadn’t heard from him so maybe he still decided to stay with her. 

You told him to stay away. Eight months ago.

Shaking away the thought, I turned the corner and the all too familiar building came into view as with one last deep breath, I pushed through the door and my eyes landed on the person sitting at what used to be my desk. My heart hammered in my chest as his scent filled my senses. 

“Well, it seems like the job isn’t available anymore, huh?” 

He turned around in a haste in the chair, eyes grazing over every inch of me to make sure I had been standing in front of him. 

The last time we talked was a few months ago and we actually hadn’t seen each other since before I quit. He looked the same, hair and beard a bit longer. 

“Hi Steve,” I smiled. 

“Y/N?” 

Steve was quick on his feet to wrap his arms around me and lifted my body off of the ground a few inches. I closed my eyes at the warmth, silently missing him just as much. 

“How have you been?” Steve asked while setting me back onto solid ground. 

I nodded. “Good, I guess. How have things been here?” 

Steve hesitated, his shoulders going stiff. “Have you talked to him at all?” 

This time I shook my head so Steve gently led me to the couch in the main area of the office and we sat next to each other. He scratched at his beard, trying to find the right way to say this. 

“He’s gone rogue the last couple of months. He doesn't need mine or Sam’s help for anything, he takes care of the problems himself.” 

I pointed towards his office. “Is he here?” 

Steve shook his head. “I haven't seen him all day. He called me earlier to say he’s got something to take care of so he’s going to be at Power Brokers tonight.” 

My eyes narrowed. “He hates that club. Why would he go there?” 

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed. “He doesn’t tell Sam or I anything anymore. We only show up here now in case he needs us.” 

“Are he and Nat-?” 

He placed a hand on my knee, stopping the words. “That’s something Bucky has to talk to you about.” 

With a slow nod, I contemplated my next move because I knew that if I went to Power Broker tonight, it would be a disaster from the start. That club was highly known as a black market, people trying to sell you things that you couldn’t buy anywhere else. But if you didn’t agree to it it would be highly unlikely that you would make it back out alive. 

“Are you going to tell me why you showed up tonight?” 

I gave Steve my attention now and shrugged. “Trust me, I would rather go to anyone else with this but Bucky is the only one that can help me.” 

He cupped my cheek. “Please be careful.” 

“Always,” I covered his hand with my own. 

The music of the club vibrated against my bones as I maneuvered my way through the seas of people, who did their best to either dance with me or sell me on their latest project they had hiding in their pocket. I ignored all of them, keeping my focus on finding the one person that I needed. 

When I asked the bouncers outside if they had seen Bucky, they were quick to give him up. 

“He’s been causing problems here all night but refuses to leave. The men we have here isn’t nearly as strong as he is to kick him out.”

I was on high alert, skin tingling with my senses, as I observed the giant open dance floor of the club until some commotion at the bar piqued my interest. I watched as a guy was thrown onto the glass bar top, black and gold fingers wrapped around his throat. 

“Where is she?!” 

The voice was deep, angry, and wanted to know the answers. 

My heart beat intensified as I marveled at how different he looked yet looking exactly the same. The brown leather vest that covered his broad chest was missing a sleeve, his entire vibranium arm on full display.  He didn’t look like a mob boss any longer but more so a soldier. 

The heat pooled between my legs but I squeezed them shut, knowing that now wasn't the time to think about that. 

“I swear, I don’t know where she is! Last I heard, they were in Budapest!” The man struggled for his life under the tight grip around his throat. 

“They were together?” 

The man on the bar nodded, as best he could. “That’s what my guys tell me.” 

As I saw a glimmer of sharp metal emerge from the pocket of the other man's vest, I finally decided to speak up. 

“Bucky.” 

My voice might have been hushed with the background noise of the club but I knew he heard because Bucky looked away from the man he had pinned, his once blue iris now dark stared back at me. The firmness in his body faded with his face softing, as he dropped the man to the floor below. 

“Doll?” 

I swallowed thickly at the old pet name because I couldn't get distracted, I needed to finish what I came for. 

“I need your help,” I admitted with a sigh. 

[ledesaid]

Someone once told me ╚-.╚-.╚-.╚-.

..............................................

"Don't trust strangers..."

I think I had no choice when I met him.

The lights of the trains passing through my station were new, this section of the route was closed, but they pass so quickly that they barely illuminate the entire station.

But that station felt smaller than I usually remember.

It felt so lonely.

I felt trapped.

There was only one way out. I knew it, the echo resonating through the tunnels invited me every hour without fail to get on that train. I've lost count of how many times it has stopped and started again.

I may not know about equations, but I know that something entered the station and did something.

But I couldn't ask and was tied up, literally trapped.

The exit of the station had disappeared and an invisible force pushed me away from the train tracks.

I would be desperate, I really was, but I couldn't ask for help... I thought that if they were my last moments, they would be fine, always and whenever they stopped.

The train stopped every six hours, waited five minutes, and then left again.

Maybe I could have watched this for weeks, but I felt so tired that I knew I could only withstand one more cycle of the train, there was only one bottle of water and two granola bars left.

It was unfair that I had no choice...

But at least, as a mark of my passage through the world, I took a can of paint that someone had left and began to write on the station floor:

"Hello, my name is Billy Batson. I am nine years old and I'm going to get on an unknown train."

"This sucks, please call Superman for me."

For my tired self, I couldn't think of anything better at the moment, I had no friends, parents, or anyone close... That still hurts even now.

When the doors opened for the last time, I knew it was over... I knew it was time and I just took what little I had with me. A stuffed animal, a blanket, and half my bottle of water.

The train didn't take long to move forward as it usually did, I realized it was a trap, but I didn't try to get off and just sat and waited.

The windows only illuminated the stations very quickly like flashes and, after a few minutes, there was only a blinding light that disoriented me.

I tasted fear in my throat, held on to the only thing I had... a small tiger stuffed animal, and begged for it to end soon.

At some point, I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes, the doors were open and I believed I was alone again...

I decided to get off. I had no other choice.

Billy: "Come on Batson, you can do it..." I tried not to cower before the unknown.

To my surprise, there was no station to welcome me, only a dark cave in its place.

***: "Welcome William, I have been waiting for you for a long time..."

Billy: "Who are you? Why am I here?"

***: "I am the wizard Shazam and you have been chosen as the champion of magic."

Billy: "I want to leave."

Shazam: "You have no choice. The Olympians have chosen you and you just answered the call."

Billy: "You forced me to get on the train."

Shazam: "It's an honor to be chosen, William, and you only need to say my name 'Shazam' and you will be able to walk among mortals carrying my power with you to protect magic. The end of my era has come, good luck Captain Marvel, you will need it..."

I still have nightmares about a giant rock crushing the wizard I had just met.

Two days later I couldn't take it anymore and invoked the wizard's name... One week later I saved Fawcett, six months later they offered me to join the league and now, two years later, I'm telling you my story... I really, really didn't expect to tell this to anyone... I'm glad you're just an AI, Sanctuary.

Billy: "I must go now, thanks for just listening..."

Sanctuary: "Thank you for your service Captain Marvel, even if it was imposed on you, you have saved many lives. Thank you for getting on the train."

Billy: "You're welcome, I suppose... I had no choice and really, even now, I don't feel like I have one."

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 6 (Part 2)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Windfur gently tries to recommend that Olive name her two kits. It's been a moon, and they deserve to have some names. Olive bites back at Windfur, saying there's no point - no thanks to Windfur, she still has a broken back and there's no promise the woods will spare her kits. Windfur bristles. He tries not to take it personally, but he does.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons) (Olive, mediator, female, 62 moons)

Hopechase overhears the argument between Windfur and Olive. Her ears droop as she finishes playing with Olive's kits. Windfur has been trying really hard to care for Olive - his life as a medicine cat isn't as easy as it seems to be.

(Hopechase, warrior, female, 88 moons) (??? Lilac pelt kit, kitten, female, 1 moons) (??? Brown pelt kit, kitten, female, 1 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons)

Windfur teaches Shiverpaw about basic herbs and their uses. He's surprised when she asks if there's any rhymes that can help her memorize clan rituals, like assisting a queen's birth or preparing a funeral. [SKILL REVEAL: LOVER OF STORIES]

(Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 6 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons)

----

"Well...yes, there are. I can teach them to you later. Those are usually more advanced medicine that you'd learn later in your apprenticeship," Windfur said

"Helping with a labor, I get. But..." Shiverpaw stared at her feet with a guilty look. Windfur waited for her to get on with it, until he saw the sadness that pooled in her eyes.

Ah. Right. Warblerkit.

Windfur sighed. She must've seen him prepare the funeral pyre - something that was genuinely quite rare for ForestClan, but a necessity if the body was still present.

He really didn't want to talk about death and funeral rites with Shiverpaw on the very first week of her training. But...this was ForestClan, and death would be a common occurrence. Reluctantly, he stared at the wall and looked through the funeral herbs lined up in the shelves. He prepared himself as he offered to give a basic rundown.

"Well...I'll tell you about the fine details later. But truth is, Shiverpaw, Warblerkit's situation was...different. Rarely do we have a body to burn."

Shiverpaw's cobalt blue eyes were wide with shock, before it seemed like she remembered why. Her bristled fur flattened. "...So...we wouldn't make a fire, usually?"

"No. Not a funerary one, anyway. We'd cook their favorite dish if they had one instead, and the Clan would partake in it. Instead of burning anything, we'd bury important mementos of theirs in our graveyard."

"That sounds different from what we did for Warblerkit." Shiverpaw said, her head tilted. "Why? Why do we burn the body?"

Windfur paused. He knew why. He knew exactly why they burned any bodies they could physically retrieve. But looking at the young apprentice's eyes - he couldn't do it. As he remembered the screaming chaos of the late greenleaf storm, as he left for just a split moment to staunch bleeding coming from Olive - the sight of tendrils retreating into the darkness with a small, pale bundle shook him. He wanted to bury the memory and let the woods take it too.

Windfur must've failed to hide his emotions, as Shiverpaw's curious stare rescinded. She shifted uneasily. "It's...It's okay, I don't need - "

"It's just what we've always done," Windfur sputtered. "We just...we burn the bodies, if we have them. We...we don't like seeing the woods taking our clanmates. I heard from Hopechase that it used to be a FieldClan ritual that we adopted after they were destroyed. To honor them."

A lie, Windfur thought. Shiverpaw looked at the funeral herbs that Windfur had taken out of his stores. She gave a soft nod, deciding his answer was honest. Windfur sighed. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't like Chicoryglint. She'd have had some sort of answer for everything. He felt like an apprentice being told he was now the adult supervision for the nursery. But here he was. An apprentice teaching an apprentice.

"...So, like you saw during Warblerkit's funeral," he started, pointing to the herbs he pulled out, "we use fennel, rosemary and catmint, if we can spare any, to decorate the body. This is to hide any unpleasant smell that may arise while we're pending rites."

Shiverpaw stared at the herbs carefully, then pouted a bit. "...No rhyme to memorize?' "...There is one."

"Can I hear it?"

Windfur shuffled a bit in place. "Uh. Yeah. Hold on, I have to remember how it goes..." He cleared his throat, remembering the melody as something almost march-like, as though trying to sing while dredging through layers of dense forest - breathy and rapid. He wasn't sure if he remembered the melody exactly right, but he had to give it a try...

"Bring the fuel to stack the fire, Let the flames climb ever higher, Hear it crackling, hear it singing, Blazing heat is all-cleansing. Weave the mary-of-the-rose, Fennel, catmint, by the row."

Shiverpaw's ears twitched intently, focused on his melody.

"Our hearts may cry to forestall, But this brave soul answered the call... Bring the fuel to stack the fire, Let the soul free from the pyre, Let our prayers sound free, Loved ones bound to memory. May their ashes be preserved, Round the marker, one with earth."

Windfur stopped, grooming his chest fur. Before Shiverpaw could make a comment, he continued. "That ah, last part is what we do after the fire dies down. We collect the ashes of the dead and try to wrap it in something - leather, large ferns, whatever. Then we bury it at the graveyard out west."

"It kinda sounds like a battle melody, but it's a...a requiem?"

Windfur's tail twitched. "I, ah...I guess. Where'd you even learn that word?"

"Requiem? From one of Barleywave's stories, when I was little," Shiverpaw insisted.

Windfur decided to push that aside, choosing to help refocus Shiverpaw on memorizing herbs, now that he got her attention - especially with fennel, which had nearly a dozen uses.

Windfur didn't think about the nursery rhyme for the rest of the day. Truly, he didn't. Cloudthunder had cooked the Clan some smoked meat, Redstar and Hopechase had shared with them their plans to reintroduce the Plentiful Gathering on a small scale. He checked up on Olive again and did his best to respond softly to her grief-stricken lashes. He dismissed Shiverpaw and let her join Morningpaw and Barleywave on learning how to make bulrush rope. By all means, this was a good, productive day.

Which is why he hated that the moment he lay in his nest, he couldn't help but stare at the walls of the medicine den. He told himself he was admiring the beauty of nature, how the giant oak fell and left a massive log den, to be hollowed out by years and years of carving and pillaging by insects. Now, the walls were sturdy and flattened by cat claws. Yes. That's definitely what he was thinking about.

If it weren't for the memory of Chicoryglint's shade settling behind him. The molly gave him a dry smile.

"Did you know that there used to be another part to the rhyme?"

Windfur remembered how his younger self replied. "Really? Can you tell me?"

"Well, there isn't much use to that part of it anymore, Windpaw. The second section was more of a cautionary segment than a ritual explanation. Besides, it's quite...morbid."

"Well, of course it's morbid. It's about funeral rites. Like...maybe it's rare, but surely there's rites for bodies that are really badly gone? Like, the flies got to them already?"

"Oh, no, it's the same rites. We just apply a lot of chive, and break out the mint and lavender if it's really bad. It's the only time those herbs are used - they're poisonous otherwise."

"Well, now that you've told me, I'm curious," Windpaw had said with a twitch of the tail, his dark blue eyes narrowed with frustration. "You can't just tell me there's another part and then refuse to tell me."

"Oh, alright, fine," Chicoryglint's pale grey and golden tail twitched, purposefully tapping the apprentice on the shoulder. A look of mischief appeared on her face. "But it is still very disturbing, nothing like the first half. Might be the most frightening thing in my repertoire. Because its melody sounds more like a battle chant, some lorekeepers suspect this song had a different purpose, once."

"Chicoryglint, no offence, but after vowing to protect StarClan's secret, nothing else really terrifies me."

A tense silence fell in the air for a brief moment. Chicoryglint casually used a single claw to separate two different sets of herbs. Then, after Windpaw had quietly sat curled up with his tail around his paws, Chicoryglint let out a small exhale before giving him the second verses.

"Blood and gore, by the score, Falls to the woods' core.

Show our might; annihilation, Wipe out all foul creation, For our flesh is not our own, When the woods puppet our bones. All scream out their final breath, To the cunning roots of death.

So ignite the funeral pyre, Pile the bodies ever higher, See them burning, see them seething, Saved from the woods' scheming.

So ignite the funeral pyre, Sound the screaming of the choir, End the Fake Cats from rising, Standing high upon your graves."

Windfur blinked. He felt the fur on his pelt stand on end.

He quickly shook his head, chasing out the memory from his mind. He took a deep breath, then curled up tightly on himself, burying his nose into his pelt.

He decided he would never mention the missing verses to Shiverpaw.

Those ones would die with him.

---

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