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starzioo · 9 months ago

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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓. 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘.

Hiii! This is a DracoxFem!Reader one-shot! In this story you are a ballerina. I saw this post of the Slytherin boys x a ballerina and I could just imagine Draco being absolutely in love with her. So here it is I hope you like!

WARNINGS: NONE <3

You sit on the stage of the Royal Opera House in London. Tightly wrapping the dusty pink ribbons around your ankles. Today was your rehearsal day for the production of The Nutcracker. You had been casted as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Most people would take this role as being easy and simple. But oh no, they would be terribly wrong. The movements you made had to be fluid and effortless, while also being regal. You sigh before standing back up and fixing your rehearsal tutu. You head over to your starting mark and give the signal to the director to start the music.

DRACO POV

I get out of the muggle-car behind my father. 'Muggles really think that this is the peak of transportation?' I think to myself as I look back at the black car behind me. "Good morning Mr. Malfoy. It's a pleasure to have you here again! Mr. Evan's is in a meeting right now and told me to tell you that he'll meet with you as soon as possible." A woman who I assume is Mr. Evan's assistant spoke to my father. "M'Alright." My father says obviously annoyed with the muggles tardiness. "Right this way then." The woman says with her smile not faltering. She walks a couple paces ahead of my father while I linger behind him. We step inside of the building. The interior looks to be made for royals. The architecture being elegant. She leads us down a couple hallways before stopping at a big door. "You may sit and wait here. Mr. Evan's will be here shortly. If you would like any refreshments or if you have any questions just head down the hallway and my desk is right there." My father only nods in response. She flashes her smile once more before heading down the hallway. Me and my father sit down on the waiting chairs. "Why are we here? Better question why am I here?" I turn and ask my father who's reading a muggle newspaper. He doesn't even look at me, "Because Draco. We are here on important business. It's about time you start learning what lies ahead for you." His tone still cold as ever. I can't even speak back, I know i'll be silenced. All I can do is huff. I stand up and just walk the opposite direction of him. I don't hate my father but sometimes I just can't stand how he seems to have my entire future in the palm of his hand.

Walking down the large hallway I can start to hear the elegant music that I can only recognize as music from The Nutcracker. When I was little my mother used to take me to a muggle theater around Christmas time. Although my father urged that we don't celebrate muggle holidays. She would always sneak us out and take me to see the Nutcracker. Not only did she love ballet but I loved to see the story play out through the graceful dancing. Of course as I grew older the tradition stopped but I never forgot.

I continue down the hallway and I can hear the music growing louder. I turn one more corner to see a double door way with a sign above the entrance that says 'MAIN THEATER' in gold lettering. The doors were slightly cracked open. I slightly peek into the theater to see a girl dancing on the stage doing the sugar plum fairies variation. I quietly slip into the room and sit down in the farthest back row to watch.

Y/N POV:

I had already rehearsed my routine twice but my director kept critiquing every little thing I did. I mean of course that's his job but I swear he was acting as if everything I did was wrong. I was in the in the middle of my third pirouette when my coach suddenly stood up and started walking to the back of the theater. I continued my pirouettes until I heard my coach speak. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he ushered someone who was sitting in the back of the theater out of the room. The man stood and I caught a glimpse of him. He was tall and had icy blonde hair. I paused my variation and stood to watch. The blonde man then spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no clue." He said before then exiting the theater. My manager turned back around after closing the doors to the theater. "Alright Y/n from the top!" He said as he gave the tech people the signal to restart the music. I didn't complain. I rushed back to my starting mark and started my routine from the beginning.

DRACO POV:

As I sat in the back row I admired the ballerina on stage. Her movements were so elegant, mesmerizing even. With every turn and step she took her tutu bounced. Her arms stretched out with grace. I'm instantly snapped out of my daze when an official looking man comes up to me. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he turned to open the door for me. "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no idea." I said as I stood from my seat. I walked to the door and took once last glance at the ballerina.

Y/N POV:

After the man had left the theater I ran through my routine nearly a half a dozen more times. Each time my coach giving me more pointers and critiques. As the music stopped and I finished my last variation my coach stood from his seat, "Y/n you need to keep your back straight and your knees pointed on that last part!" My coach shouted clearly tired of me not being able to perfect my solo. I just huffed and wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist. "Can I go get some water?" I said with my hands on my hips. My director sighed, "Yeah, be back in five." He said as he wrote something down on his clipboard. I hurriedly sped walked down the stairs that were on the far end of the stage and headed towards the theater entrance. I took a turn then walked down the long hallway. I stop at the end of the hallway when I see that man who got kicked out of the theater and another man who has long icy blonde hair, they're both sitting down on the waiting chairs outside Mr. Evan's office. I shake my head of any curiosity about the two and hurriedly walk past them to go to Adeline's desk. I notice the short haired boy look up at me as I walked but I continued. "Hey Adeline, could you please get me a water?" I asked to the woman. "Yeah just give me a second." She said with her usual smile, as she stood and went to another room. A couple seconds later she reappeared and had a water bottle in hand. The water bottle had a custom logo on it that said The Royal Opera House in gold letters on a dark red paper. "Thank you Ade, I'll most likely be back soon." I said as I turned around while simultaneously taking a drink of my water. As I turned I practically bump straight into a brick wall.

But it wasn't a wall it was that same blonde boy. And I had now just spilt water all over him. "Oh, i'm sorry! That was my bad!" I said frantically as I tried to wipe the water off of his black button down. "No, no, no, don't worry about it." He said laughing lightly as he grabbed hand to calm me, after a few seconds you let go. "I was just coming to compliment you. I saw you back in the theater and your dancing was truly beautiful." He said as his ice blue eyes practically pierced yours. "Oh...thank you." —I laughed softly—"But my director would say other wise." I said as I began to walk past him, I turned back around to look at him once more to find him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Well it's basically his job to tell me what I'm doing wrong, but it feels impossible to get my routine perfect." I sighed. "Well...regardless of what that oaf thinks I think you dance nothing short of perfection." He said slightly playfully. I let out a small laugh. "Well, I've got to get back to rehearsing. It was nice meeting you...?" I questioned having never learned his name. "Draco." "Draco?" "Draco." He confirmed. "Well it was nice meeting you Draco." I said nodding my head before turning to go back to the theater. "Wait what's your name?" He calls out to me as I was walking away. I turned around once more then gestured to a poster on the wall, then finally walked away.

As I gestured to the poster Draco immediately examined it. It was a picture of you in your sugar plum fairy costume and a title below it. It said, 'Y/n L/n as The Sugar Plum Fairy' Draco let out an airy laugh as he admired the poster when Lucius appeared behind him. "Draco I would like to not have to come look for you as if you were a lost puppy. Mr.Evan's is ready to see us now." He said coldly then turned Draco following behind.

You had went back to the theater thoughts of Draco lingering in the back of your head. Draco had went to sit in on the meeting between Lucius and Mr. Evan's. To Lucius that meeting was very important to the future of his shares in the theater, but to Draco it was merely an hour wasted listening to rubbish. You had finally wrapped up your rehearsals for the day and it was time for you to go get food and go home.

DRACO POV:

"Draco you can sit outside while me and Mr. Evan's wrap this up. Don't wander." Lucius spat. I didn't respond he simply just got up and left the room. I sat outside on the chairs until I heard a voice. "Yeah, I'll see you on Thursday?" She said as she walked out of the theater. There she was, Y/n. All of my attention was on her. She was no longer wearing the tutu and leotard. She was now wearing a baby pink off the shoulder knit sweater with grey flared leggings. She has a white knit scarf around her neck and she carried grey bag, what I assume was her ballet stuff. Her hair was in a low bun making her headphones she had in visible.

When she turned to walk out she paused when she saw me. "Hey, you're still here?" She said softly as she walked up to me while taking out her headphone. "Yeah, i'm just waiting for my father and Mr. Evan's to get out of their meeting." "Well, I could wait with you?" She said as she rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind." She sat down next to me setting her bag on her side. "So why are you here? To see Mr.Evans I mean." She said as she looked up at me. "Well I wouldn't say that i'm here to see him. My father is. Something that has to do with his shares. I honestly don't know. The only thing i've gotten out of coming here was seeing you dance." I laughed a little, and so did she. "I didn't know I was that good." She smiled. "Whatever your director was yelling at you, he truly is wrong. I thought you danced perfect." I said avoiding eye contact with her. I could see her out of the corner of my eye just staring up at me. "Why thank you good sir. I'm glad you liked it." She giggled. "Have you ever seen The Nutcracker?" "Yeah, quite a few times actually." "Oh. Would you like to see it again maybe?" She asked this time not peering up at me, but now fiddling with the loose ends of her scarf. "When?" She stop and looked back up at me. "Uhmm,—she hummed— Opening night would be December 10th, I could get you tickets if you would like?" "Yeah, yeah, although I don't know when I'll see you again?" I asked. She laughing softly, "I guess whenever you want to see me again." She smiled.

DECEMBER TENTH

DRACO POV

Today was the day, the day I get to see her again. I don't know why I'm so...entranced? By her. Something about her just makes me fascinated. Ever since last week she's all I could think about. Of course in order to be able to go see the show I told my parents some bullshit excuse. My father would never let me go to London by myself, especially just so I could go see the ballet. Not only that a muggle girl.

I had made my way to the theatre early so I would be able to avoid all the people there for opening night. I stepped out of the taxi, it was cold the winter air crisp. I entered the building and walked up to the concierge. "One ticket for The Nutcracker, please." I said slightly rubbing my hands together trying to warm them. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid we are all sold out for the night." He said with pity. "What? No, I have to see the show tonight." "Like I said, I'm sorry. But I can sell you a ticket for-" "Oh! Mr. Malfoy I wasn't expecting you so early!" The concierge was interrupted by no other than Adeline. "You were expecting me?" I turned to her. "Well yes? I expected that Ms. L/n made you aware of your visit?" She said with her usual smile. "Well yeah, but- you know what never mind. Why were you expecting me?" "Of course, because she was very adamant that you got the best seat in the house!" She said ushering me down the hall, then to an elevator.

The classical music played lightly in the elevator, the ride up two floors wasn't awkward, it was actually quite pleasant. This was an elevator ride I had been on countless times before, it was nostalgic in a way. The elevator dinged before the large metal doors opened. We were on The Donald Gordon Grand Tier. It was technically the third floor of the theater. She led me to row A which was in the very middle and front. "Ms. L/n was very insisting that you get this specific seat sir. She said it was the best seat in the house and you deserve nothing less!" I stood there for a moment and blinked at the seats in front of me. That feeling of nostalgia had now been explained. I was sitting in the exact same seat my mother would always sit in when we would come to the theater. "Mr. Malfoy, are you okay?" Adeline broke my trance. "Thank you Adeline, for everything." I thanked her as I sat down. "No problem! Feel free to come down to my desk if you need anything!" She smiled before walking away.

I sat there for maybe 30 minutes before hundreds of people started sitting in the theater. Of course by courtesy of Adeline I was able to avoid the crowd. After about another 30 minutes the lights in the theater had dimmed. That's when I heard the oh so familiar tune to the mystical music. There was something about the story of The Nutcracker that always fascinated me. Maybe it was the playful but yet elegant dances that were done. They were so complex but yet so smooth and graceful. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was able to watch a story come to life in front of my very eyes. As I watched the ballet I found myself the same way I was many years ago. Only blinking every few minutes to be sure I didn't miss any parts of the show. My mind fully clear, only focusing on the ballet dancers below. I was entranced by the story all over again.

Now, we were in act II. After Clara and the Prince have slayed the Mouse King, the snowflakes have led them to the Kingdom of Sweets. As the enchanting music transitioned to a more sweet sounding melody it hit me. She was going to be dancing soon. Clara and the Prince arrived to the gates of Kingdom of Sweets. The Sugar Plum Fairy reigns over the Kingdom of Sweets. I sat up in my chair. Then there she was, graceful as ever tip-toing across stage. Her costume was beautiful a light pink bodice and tutu with gold accents. Her hair was elegant and she wore a gold tiara. She was covered in glitter, but what shined the most was her eyes. She was so passionate in the way she danced. Her moves were liquid smooth enchanting the audience. She placed a tiara on Clara's head then commenced a day of festivities in honor of Clara saving the Prince from the mouse king. First came the Chocolate from Spain, then the Arabian Coffee, the Chinese tea, and lastly the sweet French Marzipan.

But then the flowers came, and they preformed a great waltz. The Sugar Plum Fairy came back with her cavalier and did a mesmerizing duet. Although they were doing a duet me and the whole audience could only look at one of them. Her. She danced with a great passion. Not that he didn't. There was just something about her that made you believe that she was born to be on that stage. Born to shine. Even with the light shining down on her, she was the light. Soon after she and her cavalier finished their dance Clara is guided back home. She tosses and turns in her sleep, she wakes up to find out it was a dream? A fantasy. Nothing more.

And Suddenly I was pulled into reality. The audience erupted in roars. Not one person in that theater wasn't clapping. Roses were being thrown onto stage by people sitting on the lower floors. The people around me whistling and cheering. I quickly stood up and headed down to Adeline's desk. "Excuse me, Adeline. I had a delivery made here, did it arrive yet?" I said as I leaned on her desk. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Just wait one second while I go grab it. She disappeared into a room before coming out with the custom bouquet I had delivered. Freshly picked Frutteto's. The baby pink roses were dusted with gold glitter, they were perfect. "She's gonna love them you know?" Adeline asked snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Do you know when she'll be out?" "I'd say maybe 30 minutes? In the mean while you're more than welcome to wait here." She said as she sat back down at her desk and started flipping through a book.

I sat there for what seemed like forever. I inspected every flower to make sure they were nothing short of perfection. Just as I was picking off a petal that was too pink to fit in with the rest I saw her. She was already on her way out of the glass doors. I quickly rushed after her, "Y/n, wait!" I yelled after her as I caught up. She turned around her nose being a light shade of pink from the brisk winter air, the soft snowflakes landing in her hair. "Draco, you came? I didn't see you come in before the show?" "I got here early, don't worry I watched the whole show. You were...amazing. Oh, I got you these." I quickly handed her the bouquet, "They're beautiful." Her face lit up, "Perfect, they're perfect." She cradled them in one arm while the other fiddled with the petals. "Thank you." She said with that sweet smile of hers. "My pleasure, I knew you'd like them." I really didn't, I was actually terrified she wouldn't like them. "Hey...would you maybe..." Her eyes glistened in the street lights as she looked up from the flowers, "...would you maybe like to go to dinner with me?" I was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. I paused, "Yeah, I would love to. But it's my treat." "You don't have to i'm the one who invited you." She said lightly laughing. "Well, I would like to treat you after your amazing performance tonight. Where do you wanna eat?" "I know a great place! It's called Bancone, it's an italian place, is that okay?" "Whatever you want is fine with me." I smile. "Okay, uhh, hold on let me call a cab!" She turned and walked to the road. She hailed us a cab.

We both sat in the back of the cab, watching the snow glitter down from the sky. "How far is the restaurant?" I asked turning to her. When I looked at her she was simply smiling down at her flowers. "Oh, we should be there any minute! Actually we're here! Thank you!" She said as she scooted out of the cab. I paid the driver then got out. I was surprised to find she took my hand and led me inside.

We stepped inside and I was taken aback by the olive tree that was planted in the middle of the restaurant. The interior was classy but casual. "Hi! Welcome in! Table for two?" A hostess came up to us. "Yeah, uhm, could we be seated at a window table?" She asked as she dusted off the small pieces of snow she had in her hair. "Of course! Right this way!" The hostess led us to a table in the front of the restaurant. I pulled out her chair for her, "Why thank you good sir." She softly laughed. I sat down. "Can I get you started with any drinks, or would you like a minute?" "Could we get a bottle of the house red? And then I would just like a glass of water." She asked the hostess. "Great choice, and as for you sir?" "I would just like a glass of water, thank you." She handed us our menus then walked away. "What do you think you're gonna get?" I looked up from my menu. "For sure the bucatini, i've been craving it all day." I laugh lightly, "I don't know what I want" I said as I studied the menu, "What do you think?" I looked up at her to find her already looking at me. "I personally think you'll like the duck ragú, I had it last time I came and it was heavenly." She laughed. "Okay I guess it's settled then, wait what about dessert?" "Oo! They have these cannolis! They're covered in hazelnuts you have to try them." Just then a waitress came to the table, "Here is your house red, and waters." She said as she set down our water and presented the bottle.

She opened the bottle with a pop, then filled our glasses. "Thank you" we both said nearly in unison. "Are you ready to order your entrees, or would you like another minute?" "We're ready. I'll have the bucatini and as for dessert we'll do two orders of the hazelnut cannolis." She said as she handed the waitress her menu. "Sure thing! And as for you sir?" She turned to me, "I'll have the duck ragú, that'll be all, thank you." I handed her my menu. "Okay, i'll be back with your food shortly." She smiled then walked away to another table. "You know what I realized?" Y/n said as she twirled the wine in her glass. "What?" "I barely know anything about you, but yet here I am at dinner with you." She tilted her head slightly. "Well, I don't know anything about you either." I laughed, "What do you wanna know?" "Anything! But skip the basic things, I just really wanna know you" She took a sip of her wine. What was I supposed to tell her? That i'm a wizard and that I went to a school to learn sorcery? "I honestly don't know where to start? Just ask me anything, anything." "Mmm, what's your favorite childhood memory?" She said as she took off her scarf.

I took a breath "I would have to say...probably going to see The Nutcracker with my mother." I laughed, she looked up at me curiously. "Ironic isn't it." "Very." "See my father isn't big on...fun. Or anything really. So every year my mother would sneak us out of the house and we would go see the show. As I got older the whole tradition kind of just...stopped. But you know what's crazy?" "Hm?" "The seat that you picked out for me, was the exact same seat my mum would sit in when we would go." She looked at me like I was crazy. "She always said 'it was the best seat in the house' the whole thing felt like a dream." "That's...just...wow. That's a big coincidence huh?" "I know huh, I was so confused. But what about you? What's your favorite memory?" "My grandmother she was absolutely amazing when it came to playing piano. As a little girl she would play the Swan Lake piano arrangement while I danced. We would do this for hours and hours till my mother told us to take a break. I've always loved ballet. What I would give to re-live those memories." She looked out the window and played with the hem of her sleeves as she spoke. "That's...beautiful. So you've been dancing since you were young?" "Yeah, kinda like you my mother took me to see the ballet when I was little. But instead we saw Sleeping Beauty. I was absolutely fascinated by it. For weeks I begged my mother to put me in classes, I guess she just got annoyed of my constant begging and just gave in." She laughed softly. "Well it definitely paid off." I smiled.

We got to know each other all night long. Even though we had already finished our food long ago, we sat there and just talked. About everything. She was just so captivating. Every detail about her was intriguing. Each one of her stories just led me to wanting to know more about her. The way her eyes sparkled a little when she would talk about something she was passionate about. All of her was just perfect. I told her a lot about myself. Maybe more than I should've. Everything about me surrounded the one thing I couldn't tell her. Most of the stories I told her had gaps but I don't think she caught on. I felt almost...bad? For not being able to tell her what could possibly be the biggest detail about me. But seriously how do you just tell someone that. 'Oh yeah, by the way i'm a wizard. And there's millions of other wizards around the world.' And plus even if I wanted to tell her I couldn't. And it was killing me.

We stayed at the restaurant until the waitress told us they were closing soon. "I guess we should get going huh?" She asked as she lightly laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." I slightly frowned. I paid the bill, then we left. We stood on the side walk as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky. Street lamps lit the road, illuminating it with golden rays. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and carried her flowers with both hands. "Could I have your number by the way?" She asked. "Oh, yeah. Here just put your number in and i'll text you later." I handed her my cell. I got a muggle cell phone, specifically for this reason. My father would never approve of me having a device like that. But for her it was worth whatever trouble it could cause. In all reality the reason I asked her to put her number in my cell was because I had no clue how. "Okay, there." She smiled as she handed me back my phone. I looked down, Y/n xx , is what she put as her contact. "I should get going now, I have to be back at the theater early tomorrow." She said as she fiddled with her flowers. I took a breath, "Okay, tonight was really great. When can I see you again?" "Like I said, whenever you want." She smiled, I laughed. She turned out to the road and hailed a cab. "Goodnight!" She yelled out to me before turning back to the cab, she paused, then turned around back to me and ran back to me. She gave me a kiss on my cheek and then a small hug, "Goodnight." "Goodnight." I said a bit surprised. She ran back to the cab and got in. I watched the car disappear down the road, out of sight.

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Mwah I hope you liked! If you did make sure to reblog and leave a note! <3

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formulas-bitch · 9 months ago

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Come back home 2 -

13K words

extra long one for you guys. let me know what you think, feedback or any suggestions are welcome

its been a few months since Emily left for her tour to Iraq, and the middle of the season of the formula 1 races for Charles.

As he was sitting in front of his computer, checking his emails, he found a familiar handwriting on the envelope. Excited, he opened the letter and began to read.

Emily's letter was full of news about her new life in Iraq. She described the desert landscape, the dusty roads, and the people she met. She told him about the challenges of her new job as first lieutenant, the long hours, and the intense training. But she also talked about the camaraderie she felt with her fellow soldiers, the sense of purpose and meaning she found in her work, and the incredible experiences she was having.

Charles was fascinated by her stories and couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and envy. He wished he could be there with her, sharing in her adventures, but he knew that he had his own path to follow. He was determined to make his sister and his family proud, even if it meant being far away from them.

As he read on, Emily mentioned that she had met some other soldiers who were also interested in motorsports. She wrote about how they would sometimes talk about the races together, swapping stories and sharing their enthusiasm. Even in the midst of a war zone, the love for speed and competition never died.

Charles was intrigued by this news. He wondered if perhaps he could somehow use his fame and connections in the racing world to support Emily and her fellow soldiers. He thought about sending care packages with racing gear or even arranging for a live feed of a race to be shown in their camp. But he also knew that he needed to tread carefully, as the last thing he wanted was to bring attention to her or her unit in a way that could potentially endanger them.

As he continued reading, Emily mentioned that she had heard about his recent successes on the track. She expressed admiration for his skill and dedication, and even joked about how she wished she could join him in the pits someday. This made Charles smile, knowing that even though they were separated by thousands of miles and a world of difference, they could still find common ground in their shared passion for motorsports.

Inspired by his sister's letter, Charles decided to take action. He reached out to his contacts in the racing community and arranged for a care package to be sent to Emily and her unit. The package was filled with official merchandise, autographed photos, and even a few pieces of racing gear. He included a personal note, expressing his love and support for her, and hoping that the package would bring a little bit of home to her while she was so far away.

A few weeks later, Charles received another letter from Emily. In it, she thanked him for the care package and told him how much it meant to her and her fellow soldiers. She described the joy they had shared when they opened it, imagining what it must have been like to be in the pits during a race or to meet their favorite drivers. She also mentioned that she had been thinking about his idea of finding a way to bring the races to them, and she was excited by the possibilities.

Charles was overjoyed to hear that his package had brought them so much happiness. He immediately began working on plans to make Emily's wish come true. He reached out to his contacts in the racing community again, explaining his sister's situation and the unique challenges they faced. To his surprise, several drivers and sponsors were eager to help, offering to donate their time and resources to make a live feed of a race possible.

After weeks of planning and coordination, they finally managed to set up a makeshift outdoor movie screen in Emily's camp. The soldiers gathered around, their faces lit up with excitement and anticipation. As the big day approached, Emily wrote to Charles, expressing her gratitude for his efforts and promising that they would make the most of the experience.

The day of the race finally arrived, and thanks to the generosity of the racing community, the soldiers were able to tune in to a live feed of the event. The sound of engines roaring filled the air as they watched their favorite drivers battle it out on the track. Despite the distance, Emily felt connected to the action, as if she were right there in the pit crew.

As the race progressed, the tension in the air was palpable. The soldiers cheered on their favorites, debated strategy, and shared stories of their own experiences in the racing world. Even the most seasoned soldiers seemed to be swept up in the excitement, forgetting, if only for a moment, the dangers that surrounded them.

Emily, unable to contain her enthusiasm, found herself constantly texting and calling her brother, sharing her thoughts and reactions to the race in real-time. Charles, equally enthused, responded with encouragement and shared anecdotes from his own racing career.

As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, the soldiers erupted in cheers. Even though they had been separated by thousands of miles, they had found a way to come together, if only for a brief moment, and share in the excitement of the sport they loved. Emily knew that the next day, they would be back to their duties, facing the dangers of their mission. But for now, they could forget about the world outside and simply enjoy the race.

She looked around at her fellow soldiers, their faces lit up with happiness, and felt a sense of pride and connection to them that she had never experienced before. She thought about her brother, Charles, and how his idea had brought them all together. Even though he was far away, she could feel his presence, his love and support for her and her fellow soldiers.

As they began to disperse, returning to their tents and duties, Emily couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. She knew that tomorrow they would be back to the grind of their mission, facing the dangers that came with it. But for now, she would cherish this brief moment of happiness, this reminder of the life they had left behind.

She made her way over to the makeshift movie screen, where the sound system was still blaring with commentary about the race. A few soldiers lingered, discussing their favorite drivers and strategies, their voices filled with excitement and enthusiasm. Emily leaned against the screen, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to memorize the feeling of this night.

It had been a long time since she had felt this alive, this connected to something beyond the confines of their camp. The sound of the engines, the thrill of the competition, it all reminded her of home, of the life she had left behind. And for just a moment, she could almost imagine herself back there, sitting in the stands, the warm sun on her face, her heart racing as the cars sped past.

A shadow fell across her, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked up to see one of the younger soldiers, his face flushed with excitement. "Hey, Emily, did you see that pass? That was insane!" He gestured animatedly, his words tumbling out in a rapid-fire mixture of awe and disbelief.

Emily nodded, her heart still racing from the race. "Yeah, that was something else. I can't believe he made that move." She paused, thinking about the drivers and their strategies, the way they battled for position around the track. "It's like they're a part of something bigger than themselves out there. They're pushing the limits of what's possible."

The young soldier, named Tom, smiled. "Yeah, you can feel it in the air, you know? It's like we're all a part of it too, just by being here, watching. Even though we're so far away, it's like we're still a part of the racing world."

Emily nodded in agreement, her gaze drifting back to the makeshift screen. "It's true. And I think that's what my brother was trying to do, you know? Create a connection, even if it was just for a little while."

The young soldier, Tom, looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess so. It's pretty cool that he thought of that. And even better that everyone else here seems to appreciate it." He gestured around at the camp, now beginning to quiet down as the soldiers returned to their duties.

Emily nodded, her gaze lingering on the makeshift screen. "It's just a shame we can't have more of this," she said wistfully. "I mean, it's nice that we can take a break and watch the races and all, but it's not the same as being there, you know? Being part of the action."

Tom shrugged. "I guess that's what we signed up for, right? Sacrifices and all that?" He paused, then added with a grin, "But hey, at least we get to watch the races!"

Emily laughed, feeling a little guilty for voicing her complaints. "Yeah, you're right. It's not all bad." She glanced back at the screen, the engines' roar still ringing in her ears. "Besides, it's not like we can just up and leave whenever we want. We've got a job to do."

The young soldier nodded solemnly. "That's for sure. But maybe one day, when this is all over, we'll get to go back and see the races in person. You know, like your brother always wanted."

Emily smiled at the thought, but it was tinged with sadness. She knew that for many of them, that day might never come. The war had already taken too much, and she feared it would continue to claim lives long after the final battle had been fought.

As they stood there, watching the race together, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if her brother's dream had been selfish. He had wanted so badly to bring a bit of joy and normalcy to their lives, but in doing so, had he failed to see the bigger picture? Had he underestimated the sacrifices that they, and countless others like them, would have to make?

Emily glanced over at Tom, his face lit up with excitement as a particularly daring move played out on the screen. She knew that he, like her, had left behind friends, family, and a life they could have only dreamed of. And for what? To fight a war that seemed to have no end in sight? To risk their lives for a cause that sometimes felt as distant and uncertain as the drivers on the screen?

But then again, maybe that was the point. Maybe it wasn't about the race or the glory or the cheering crowds. Maybe it was about finding something, anything, to hold onto when everything else felt so fleeting and fragile. It was about creating moments of normalcy and joy in the midst of the chaos, however brief they might be.

Emily looked at her friend, feeling a sudden surge of gratitude for his presence. They might not be at the track, but they were together, sharing this experience, however small it might seem. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The world around them seemed to fade away as the race continued, the sound of gunfire and explosions replaced by the roar of the engines. Soldiers ducked for cover, returning fire as they moved, their training taking over as they fought to protect one another. Emily's heart raced, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the task at hand.

She glanced at her friend, Tom, crouched down beside her, his face etched with determination. She could see the fear in his eyes, but he refused to show it. They were a team, and they would fight together until the end. As they took cover behind a fallen tree, Emily caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. She signaled to Tom, and together they flanked their position, guns at the ready.

The enemy soldiers were advancing quickly, using the cover of smoke to their advantage. Emily felt her heart pounding in her chest as she took aim, steadying her breath. She knew that every shot had to count. Tom nodded at her, and they both opened fire. The sound of gunfire filled the air as the two sides battled for control of the territory.

Emily ducked down behind a rock, reloading her weapon as quickly as she could. She glanced over at Tom, who was crouched down beside her, his face etched with determination. They had to hold their ground; they couldn't afford to give an inch. As she reloaded, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and immediately knew that they were outnumbered.

"They're surrounding us!" she yelled to Tom. He nodded grimly, his eyes fixed on the advancing enemy soldiers. They couldn't stay here; they had to find a way to break through the encirclement. As they crawled away from their makeshift cover, bullets whizzed past them, throwing up clouds of dirt and debris.

Emily glanced around frantically, searching for any possible escape route. Ahead of them, she spotted a rusty old jeep parked beneath a cluster of trees. It was their only hope. "Tom, over there!" she shouted, pointing at the jeep. "We have to make a run for it!, tell the otto meet us there"

Tom nodded in agreement, his face etched with determination. They couldn't afford to waste any more time. With renewed strength, they sprinted toward the jeep, bullets whizzing past them. Emily felt the wind of a near-miss bullet on her cheek, but she didn't let it deter her. They had to make it.

As they neared the jeep, Emily glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see the enemy losing ground. But the soldiers were closing in fast, their numbers seemingly endless. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself harder, her lungs burning from the effort. Tom reached the jeep first, yanking open the door and gesturing for her to get in.

Emily climbed into the driver's seat just as Tom threw himself into the passenger seat beside her. She slammed the door shut and turned the key, the engine roaring to life. As she put the jeep in gear, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. It was the others. They were running toward the jeep, their own gunfire muffled by the sound of their own panicked breathing.

Emily gunned the engine, the jeep leaping forward with a jolt. As they raced toward their friend, bullets rained down on them from all sides. The jeep swerved violently, tires spinning in the dirt as they careened out of control. Emily fought to regain control, her knuckles white from the force she was exerting on the steering wheel.

"They're gaining on us!" Tom yelled, his voice tense and panicked. Emily felt her heart sink. They had to shake the enemy off somehow. She glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to find an escape route, but there was nothing but trees and more soldiers. They were trapped.

She slammed on the brakes, causing the jeep to fishtail. The enemy soldiers, caught off guard, scattered. Emily took the opportunity to do a U-turn, racing back toward the encampment they had left behind. Tom leaned out of the window, firing wildly at the soldiers in their way. "We have to reach the camp!" he shouted, his words whipping away in the wind. "We have to warn them!"

Emily nodded, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. The jeep swerved and careened through the trees, narrowly avoiding collisions with obstacles in their path. As they neared the camp, she could see the soldiers had already overrun it. Burning structures and the sounds of gunfire filled the air. "They're already here," she whispered, dread filling her voice.

The jeep came to a skidding halt near what was left of the camp entrance. Emily and Tom exchanged a grim look before they leapt out, weapons at the ready. Bullets whizzed past them as they sprinted toward the command center, their boots sinking into the soft earth with each step. "Where are they?" Emily shouted over the chaos, her eyes darting around wildly for any sign of their team.

"This way!" Tom shouted, pointing toward a nearby hut. They dashed toward it, weaving in and out of the hail of bullets As they approache the hut, they could hear muffled voices coming from within. Emily signaled for Tom to cover her as she threw herself against the door, bursting into the hut.

The small structure was cramped with soldiers, all of them scrambling for cover. Emily spotted her team huddled together in the corner, their weapons drawn. "Over here!" she shouted, waving them over. The soldiers turned their attention to her, opening fire. Emily felt the impact of several bullets against her body, sending her flying back into the dirt. She winced in pain, struggling to breathe.

"Emily!" Tom shouted, rushing toward her. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he tried to stanch the bleeding. "We have to get out of here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "We can't stay here."

Emily forced herself to take a deep breath, wincing as pain shot through her chest. "No," she wheezed. "We can't leave them." She glanced around at her team, their faces pale and streaked with dirt and tears. "We have to fight back."

"But they've already taken over the camp," Tom protested. "How are we supposed to do that?"

Emily closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his hands trembling as he tried to keep her alive. "We can't just give up," she whispered. "Not like this."

Tom didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the soldiers surrounding them. There had to be a way out. They just had to find it. As their breaths came in ragged gasps, they glanced around the hut, searching for any sign of an escape route.

Emily's eyes fell on a crate in the corner, piled high with ammunition and weapons. She motioned for her team to follow her as she crept over to it. Carefully, she began to distribute the weapons among them, making sure each person had at least one. As they armed themselves, they also took whatever extra ammunition they could find.

"Okay," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible above the gunfire. "We're going to make a run for it. We'll use the crate as cover, and try to reach that jeep." She gestured toward the vehicle, barely visible through the haze of smoke and dust. "Once we're in, we'll make a break for it."

The soldiers surrounding them paused for a moment, seemingly surprised by the team's unexpected plan. Tom took advantage of the distraction and threw a grenade at the soldiers, hoping to buy them some time. The explosion rocked the hut, sending debris and dirt flying everywhere. Screams filled the air as the soldiers scattered in panic.

"Now!" Emily shouted, grabbing one end of the crate. Her team members followed suit, each taking hold of an end as they began to drag it toward the jeep. Bullets whizzed past them, thudding into the wooden crate and sending splinters flying. They moved as quickly as they dared, ducking behind what cover they could find.

As they reached the jeep, Emily glanced back at the hut, her heart racing. The soldiers had already begun to regroup, their numbers swelling as more and more of them emerged from the smoke and dust. There was no time to lose. She turned to her team, her voice tight with urgency. "Get in the jeep! I'll cover you."

Tom and the others climbed into the vehicle, their hands shaking as they fumbled with the doors and the ignition. Emily took a deep breath, steadying herself before turning to face the approaching soldiers. She lifted her weapon, aiming at the center of the group as they charged toward her. Bullets whizzed past her ears, sending dirt and debris flying, but she remained steady, firing round after round at the oncoming threat.

As Emily continued to fight, she glanced over at the jeep, watching as it lurched forward, gaining speed. She knew that she couldn't hold off the soldiers for much longer. With a final burst of adrenaline, she sprinted toward the vehicle, leaping into the back seat just as another wave of bullets struck the ground where she had been standing only moments before.

The jeep sped away from the hut, leaving a trail of smoke and dust in its wake. Emily slumped forward in her seat, gripping the edge of the door frame as she tried to catch her breath. Tom, his face pale and streaked with dirt, reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "We did it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're getting out of here."

But even as they drove, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed. Emily glanced in her rearview mirror, her heart racing as she saw a line of soldiers marching steadily behind them. "They're still after us," she said, her voice tense. "We need to lose them."

"I've got an idea," Tom replied, his hands tight on the dashboard. "Follow my lead." He reached for the jeep's radio and switched it on, then began to speak into the mic in their native language. "Hey, you! Yes, you, the soldiers back there. This is Alpha team, reporting in. We're fine, but we're being pursued by your boys. We could really use some backup."

Emily glanced at him, surprise etched on her face. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked. "We don't know who we can trust."

Tom shrugged, his expression grim. "We have to try something. If we can get them to think we're part of their team, maybe they'll back off."

Emily hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. She keyed the mic herself. "Roger that, team. We need you to provide cover fire and extract us from the area. Over."

The jeep raced through the jungle, its engine growling as they wove in and out of the trees, trying to lose their pursuers. After several tense minutes, Emily glanced in her mirror and saw a group of soldiers break off from the main group, taking up positions behind rocks and trees. They began to fire on the soldiers chasing after them, creating a distraction that allowed Emily to veer sharply to the left and lose sight of them.

A moment later, the radio crackled to life. "Alpha team, this is command. We've heard your call for backup. Stand by for extraction. Repeat, stand by for extraction." Emily let out a sigh of relief, grateful that their ruse had worked. "Roger that, command. We're standing by," she replied, glancing at Tom and then back at the road.

The jeep continued to race through the jungle, the soldiers' shouts and gunfire growing fainter in the distance. As they drove, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that they were still being followed. She couldn't help but wonder who they could trust among their own team.

"Hey, Tom," she said, her voice tight with tension. "You really think we can trust them, after all that?"

He glanced over at her, his expression grim. "I don't know, Em. But we don't really have a choice, do we? They've got us in their sights, and they know where we're going."

Emily nodded, her grip tight on the steering wheel. She wished she could trust anyone in this mess. But with each passing moment, it seemed as if they were further from allies and closer to becoming enemy targets. "Maybe they'll back off once they think we're safe," she said, more to convince herself than anything else.

The jeep careened through the jungle, branches scratching at the sides of the vehicle like claws. They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the engine's roar and the rustle of leaves. Emily glanced at Tom, wondering if he was feeling as lost and uncertain as she was. His face was set in a grim expression, his eyes darting from side to side, scanning the jungle around them.

As they continued to drive, she could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. The blood loss from her injury was starting to take its toll, and she was having a hard time focusing on the road. She reached over to her belt and pulled out a small vial of painkillers, popping two of them into her mouth and chasing them down with a swig of water. The medicine kicked in almost instantly, bringing a welcome wave of relief.

Emily glanced at Tom, who was staring out the window, his expression unreadable. "You okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse from fatigue. He nodded, but she could tell he was lying. "We'll make it to the rendezvous point, Tom. We just need to keep going."

As they continued down the winding jungle road, Emily felt her grip on consciousness slipping. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept, or if she'd even eaten anything since this whole mess started. The pain in her side throbbed with each bump in the road, making it difficult to focus on driving. She wished she could just close her eyes for a moment, but she knew she couldn't risk it.

Tom glanced over at her, concern etched into his features. "You doing okay, Em?" he asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched at his touch, the pain in her side intensifying. "I can take over if you need to rest," he offered.

Emily forced a smile, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I'm fine, really. Just a little tired. But we can't stop now, not with them still after us." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Besides, you're not much of a driver anyway," she added with a weak laugh.

Tom laughed softly in response, his expression easing slightly. "Well, I'm not about to argue with that," he said, settling back into his seat. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Emily nodded, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. As they continued to drive deeper into the jungle, the air grew thick with humidity, and sweat began to bead on her forehead. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, wishing she could roll down the window, but knowing they couldn't risk attracting attention.

Her eyelids felt heavy, and she fought against the urge to close them even for a moment. The pain in her side was becoming unbearable, and she could feel herself starting to drift off, her grip on consciousness slipping. She knew she needed to rest, but she couldn't risk it. Not yet.

Emily glanced at Tom, his expression mirroring her own exhaustion. "I'm really sorry, Tom. I don't know how much longer I can keep going like this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tom reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure something out. We're in this together, remember?" His words were calm, but his grip was tight, as if he were trying to hold onto something fragile.

Emily forced a smile, squeezing his hand back. "Yeah, I remember. Thanks, Tom." She glanced in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see the headlights of their pursuers closing in. But the road behind them was empty. For now.

"Hey, Tom," she said, her voice quiet. "Do you ever think about what we'd be doing if all this hadn't happened? You know, if we were just regular kids, not part of this whole mess?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I think we'd still be here, doing something important. Maybe not with the OASIS, but with something else. We're both good people, Em. We'd find a way to make a difference."

Emily looked over at him, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks, Tom. I hope you're right." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I know I'm not making this easy, but I need you to promise me something."

Tom's brow furrowed in concern. "What is it?"

Emily took a deep breath and forced a smile. "It's just… if something happens to me, if I don't make it out of here, I want you to make sure they know. My brothers, I mean. Tell them… tell them everything. About the OASIS, about Halliday, about what we found… and tell them that I love them, okay?" Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Tell them that I'm so sorry for leaving them, and that I'll always be with them. And tell my mom… tell her thank you. Tell her that I appreciate everything she's ever done for me."

There was a long pause as the weight of her words hung heavily in the air. Finally, Tom reached over and squeezed her hand. "I promise, Em. I'll make sure they know. I'll make sure everyone knows." His voice was solemn, and Emily felt a surge of relief wash over her.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Thanks, Tom. That means a lot to me." She glanced at Aech, who was still staring out the window, lost in thought. "Hey, Aech, how we doing so far?"

Aech turned back to her, his expression distant. "We're doing fine, Em. Just keep driving." He paused, then added with a small smile, "And try not to worry too much, okay?"

Emily nodded, her heart still racing. She focused on the road ahead, forcing herself to drive at a steady pace. The speedometer needle crept up as they raced past one exit sign after another. They were almost there.

"You guys okay back there?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Aech gave her a reassuring smile, while Tom continued to stare out the window, his jaw clenched tight. "Tom?" she prompted.

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Yeah, Em. I'm fine. Just thinking about what we're about to face." His voice was steady, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes. Emily felt a pang of guilt for involving him in all of this.

"Me too," she said, glancing back at Aech. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, Tom. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to turn back."

Tom's expression was grim, but he didn't hesitate. "Em, you know I'm not going to leave you. We're in this together, and I'm not about to abandon you now." There was a fierce determination in his voice, and Emily felt a surge of gratitude for his loyalty.

She nodded, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Thanks, Tom. I appreciate that. So… we just keep going?"

"Yeah," Aech said, finally breaking his silence. "Just a few more miles now." He glanced at Emily, then leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice. "But be ready, Em. This isn't going to be easy."

Emily nodded, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about what to say… what to expect. But no matter what happens, I want you guys to know that I couldn't have done any of this without you."

A silence fell over the car as they continued to race down the empty highway. The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the road ahead. Emily's heart felt like it was in her throat, but she forced herself to stay focused on the task at hand.

Finally, she couldn't bear the tension any longer. "Guys," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I just wanted to say… if something happens to me, if I don't make it out of here… please, please tell my brothers. Tell Enzo, Charles, and Aurthur that I love them more than anything, and that I'm sorry if I ever let them down. And tell my mom… tell her that I appreciate everything she's ever done for me. That I'm grateful for every moment we spent together, even when we fought. And tell her that I'm sorry for the arguments we had. That I was just trying to protect her."

Emily paused, wiping a tear from her cheek. "And if you could… could you give them all a big hug for me? Just tell them that I'll be thinking of them, and that I'll always be with them, no matter what."

Tom's voice was gruff as he spoke up. "Yeah, Em. We'll make sure they know, but your going to make it out of here yourself and can tell them yourself" He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his grip reassuring.

Aech nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Emily, we believe in you. We know you can do this." His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty beneath it.

The highway stretched out before them, seemingly endless in the fading light. Emily could feel the weight of Aech's words pressing down on her, the gravity of the situation bearing down on her shoulders. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and then began to slow the car down.

As they approached the tollbooth, she rolled down her window and handed the attendant a twenty-dollar bill. "It's for the road," she said with a weak smile, her voice barely audible over the rush of the wind. The attendant smiled back at her, nodding understandingly, and then waved them through.

Emily glanced in the rearview mirror as they drove past the booth, her reflection pale and haunted. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, before turning back to her friends. "Okay, so here we are," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm going to pull over up ahead and walk the rest of the way from here. You guys just stay in the car, okay?"

Aech nodded, his grip tightening on the wheel. "Yeah, we'll wait here. Just be careful, Em."

Emily pulled the car over to the side of the road and set the emergency brake. She took one last deep breath, then opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. The air was cool against her face, and the sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep shade of purple. She squinted at the horizon, searching for any signs of movement.

Turning back to the car, she waved at her friends through the open window. "I love you guys," she said, her voice barely audible above the sound of the wind. "Thank you for everything."

Aech leaned out of the window, his expression a mix of determination and fear. "You can do this, Em. We believe in you."

Emily nodded, trying to muster up some courage. "Thanks, Aech. I love you too." She turned back to Tom, her voice shaking. "And you, Tom. You've been such a great friend. Thank you for everything."

Tears were streaming down Emily's face as she spoke, but she forced herself to smile at them through her tears. "I'm going to do this," she said, more confidently than she felt. "I'm going to make it."

Aech nodded, his own eyes wet with tears. "You're right, Em. You can do this." He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his grip reassuring. "And we'll be right here waiting for you. No matter what happens."

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She turned back to the car and opened the door, stepping out onto the gravel shoulder. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked out at the highway, the cars speeding past in both directions.

She glanced over at Aech and Tom, their faces etched with concern, their eyes filled with love and support. "I love you both so much," she said, her voice trembling. "And I want you to know that no matter what happens, I want you to keep living your lives to the fullest. Don't let anything hold you back, okay?"

Emily took a deep breath and then turned her attention back to the highway. The cars were speeding past in a blur, the headlights like tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness. "I'm going to run across the highway now," she said, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to consume her. "Just stay here and wait for me, okay?"

Aech nodded, his grip tight on the seat. "We won't go anywhere, Em. We'll just wait right here for you."

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you both so much. And thank you… thank you for everything."

She turned her back to Aech and Tom, taking one final glance at their worried faces before facing the highway. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked out at the speeding cars, her heart pounding in her chest. In that moment, she knew that she was committing herself to the most terrifying and heroic act of her life.

Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then began to run. The hot asphalt scorched her feet as she sprinted across the highway, weaving in and out of the headlights. Her lungs burned and her legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to keep going. She couldn't let her brothers down, couldn't let her mom down. This was her last chance to make a difference.

Ahead of her, she could see the entrance to the interstate. It was so close, yet it seemed like an impossible distance away. She could hear Aech and Tom shouting her name, their voices distant and muffled by the rush of wind and the roar of the cars. She forced herself to ignore the fear that threatened to overwhelm her, focusing instead on the image of her brothers' faces, the way they'd smile when they thought no one was looking.

Emily's lungs burned, her legs ached, but she kept running, refusing to give up. With every step, she felt a new surge of determination, a new wave of courage. She wasn't going to let her brothers down. She wasn't going to let her mom down. She was going to make it across that highway, no matter what it took.

As she neared the entrance to the interstate, she could hear Aech and Tom shouting her name louder than ever before, their voices a beacon of hope in the darkness. They believed in her, and she was going to prove them right. She wasn't going to let anything stand in her way.

With one final burst of energy, Emily sprinted across the last few feet of the highway, the hot asphalt burning the soles of her feet. She leapt, pushing off with all her might, and landed safely on the shoulder of the interstate. Tears streamed down her face as she turned around to see Aech and Tom still standing at the other end of the highway, their hands raised in the air, their fists clenched in triumph.

"I made it!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the roar of the cars. "I did it! I'm here!"

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, relief and pride washing over their faces. They knew that the next part of their plan was just as dangerous, if not more so. They had to find a way to get across the interstate and meet Emily at the other end.

"Alright, Em," Aech said, his voice steady despite the tremor of emotion. "We're gonna need you to keep an eye out for us. Look for the big red truck we've been using as our ride. When you see it, give us a wave, okay?"

Emily nodded, her eyes scanning the cars as they sped past her. She could see the interstate stretching out in front of her, a ribbon of light cutting through the darkness. "I see it!" she shouted, pointing to the right. "I see the truck!"

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, their faces tight with determination. They began to run, weaving their way through the cars, their eyes never leaving Emily as they made their way across the interstate. They knew that the distance between them was closing with each step, but the cars still seemed to move impossibly fast.

Emily kept her eyes fixed on them, her heart pounding in her chest. She waved frantically when she saw them begin to run, her relief and joy palpable. Despite the danger, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in her team. They were running toward her, putting their lives on the line to save her, just as she would do for them.

As they drew closer, Aech and Tom broke into a sprint, weaving their way through the cars with a newfound sense of determination. They were almost there, their arms pumping, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Emily could see the desperation in their eyes, the determination to reach her no matter what it took.

She wanted nothing more than to be with them, to escape this hell together. But as she stood there, watching them run toward her, she couldn't help but think about the last thing she had said to them. About her brothers, and her mom.

Emily closed her eyes, trying to block out the images that flashed through her mind. Enzo, Charles, and Arthur. They were only kids, just like her. They didn't deserve this life. They didn't deserve to grow up in a world where people like Sorrento could exist. And her mom… Emily couldn't even begin to fathom the pain she must be going through right now. loosing their dad was hard but loosing her only daughter would be even harder.

She opened her eyes and looked at Aech and Tom, their faces contorted with determination and fear. "If I don't make it," she said, her voice barely audible over the sound of the cars, "tell them… tell them I love them. Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them…" Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to find the words. "Tell them everything. Tell them I'll always be with them."

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of understanding and determination. "We will, Em," Aech said, his voice steady. "We'll make sure they know."

Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you," she managed to choke out. "Just… just get me out of here, okay?"

Aech and Tom exchanged another glance, their expressions grim. They were almost within reaching distance now, their arms outstretched as they lunged forward, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward her. "We're almost there, Em," Aech panted. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily nodded, trying to steel her resolve as she felt the weight of their words. She knew that her brothers and mother were depending on them, and she couldn't help but feel guilty for putting them in this position. But she also knew that she couldn't give up. She had to keep fighting, for their sake as much as her own.

As Aech and Tom neared, she could see the determination in their eyes, the fire in their hearts. They were going to get her out of this hell, no matter the cost. And when they did, they were going to make sure that those responsible paid dearly.

Emily's breath came in ragged gasps as she watched them approach, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward her. They were almost there, just a few more steps, and she would be free from this nightmare. She forced herself to stand tall, to be strong, for her brothers and her mother.

"You can do this, Em," Aech panted, his hand reaching out to grab hers. "We're not leaving you behind."

Emily gripped his hand tightly, her fingers digging into his skin as they sprinted toward her. She could feel the weight of their words, the determination in their voices. They were going to get her out of this hell, no matter what it took.

As they neared, Aech and Tom exchanged one last glance, their faces etched with resolve. They had been through so much together, and they weren't about to let anything stop them now. With a final burst of speed, they reached Emily's side, their arms wrapping around her as they pulled her away from the oncoming traffic.

The impact of the car almost knocked them off their feet, but they held onto Emily tightly, refusing to let go. They stumbled backwards, away from the danger, their hearts racing and their lungs burning from the exertion. As they finally managed to put some distance between them and the cars, they lowered Emily to the ground, her limp body trembling from the adrenaline and fear.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances as they crouched beside her. They knew they needed to get her to safety, but first they had to make sure she was okay. "Em," Aech said, his voice shaking, "are you hurt?"

Emily let out a shuddering breath, her eyes closed tightly as tears streamed down her face. "I… I don't know," she managed to choke out. "I think… I think I'm okay."

Aech and Tom exchanged glances once more, their brows furrowed with concern. They knew that they needed to get her to safety, but they also wanted to make sure that she was really okay before they left.

Emily let out another shuddering breath, her shoulders shaking as she wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before speaking. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "I just need… I need a minute."

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances again. They knew that Emily was in shock, and they needed to keep her talking, to keep her mind off of what had just happened. "Of course, Em," Aech said, his voice gentle. "Take all the time you need."

Emily took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just need… I need to be with them. To tell them myself."

Aech nodded, understanding. "Of course, Em. We'll make sure that happens." He glanced over at Tom, who nodded back. They knew they couldn't bring her home just yet; they had to get her to safety first. But they also knew how important it was for Emily to be with her family.

They carefully helped Emily to her feet, supporting her weight between them. Her knees were shaking, and she leaned heavily into them as they began to walk again. They didn't know where they were going, but they knew they had to keep moving.

As they walked, Aech kept glancing over at Emily, worried about how she was holding up. Her face was pale, and she seemed to be in shock. "Are you sure you're okay, Em?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Emily nodded, but her voice was shaky when she spoke. "I… I think so. I just need to see them, you know? I need to tell them." Her eyes filled with tears again, and she wiped them away roughly with the back of her hand.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances once more. They knew that getting Emily to safety was their priority, but they also understood how important it was for her to be with her family. They continued to walk, searching for a safe place where they could call for help or find someone to help them. they need to contact base camp or the police, but they didn't know how to do that from here.

As they walked, Emily leaned heavily on their shoulders, her body trembling from the adrenaline and fear. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the urgent need to see her family. She knew that they would be waiting for her back home, worried sick about what had happened. The thought of facing them and telling them what she had just been through was almost unbearable.

Aech and Tom exchanged glances again, their expressions growing more concerned. They didn't know how much longer they could carry her weight, but they refused to leave her side. They needed to find a safe place where they could get help, and fast.

As they continued to walk, Emily's body grew heavier, her breathing more labored. Her eyes fluttered open and closed, her lips moving silently as if she were praying. Aech reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, debating whether they should call for help or try to find someone who could help them first., but it was broke and their radios weren't working either, so they were pretty much on their own.

"Em, I'm going to need you to hold on tight to me, okay?" he said, his voice gentle but firm. Emily nodded weakly, her fingers clutching at his jacket. They walked on, their footsteps echoing through the empty warehouse.

Aech glanced over at Tom, who shrugged. They both knew they couldn't carry Emily much farther. Her weight was becoming too much for them, and their own strength was starting to flag. They needed help, fast.

"Em, listen," Aech said, his voice firm but gentle. "We need to find someone to help us. Can you keep walking a little bit longer, okay?" Emily's eyes fluttered open, and she nodded weakly. A tear slipped down her cheek.

They continued to search through the empty warehouse, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Every now and then, they would hear distant noises outside, but they couldn't tell if they were coming closer or moving farther away. The air was cold and damp, and Emily shivered violently as she tried to keep pace with Aech and Tom.

"Hang in there, Em," Aech said softly, his arm tight around her shoulders. "We'll find someone to help us soon." But even as he spoke, he knew that they were running out of time. Emily's weight was becoming more and more difficult to bear, and their own strength was beginning to wane. They had to find help quickly, before something worse happened.

They continued to wander through the endless corridors of the warehouse, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. The air was cold and damp, and Emily's body shivered violently as she tried to keep up with their pace. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her eyelids fluttered open and closed, as if she were struggling to stay conscious.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances, their faces pale in the dim light. They knew they couldn't carry Emily much farther, and they were running out of time. As they rounded a corner, they spotted a figure in the distance, huddled against the wall. It was a man, dressed in the uniform of a maintenance worker.

"Over here!" Aech called out, waving his arms frantically. The maintenance worker looked up, startled, and hurried over to them. "We need help," Aech said urgently. "Our lieutentent here has been hurt, and she's losing consciousness."

The maintenance worker's expression turned grave as he knelt beside Emily. "What happened?" he asked, feeling for a pulse at her neck. " shes been shot" said tom and aech together. The maintenance worker nodded, his face tight with concern. "Okay, let's get her to the infirmary as fast as we can."

He carefully scooped Emily up into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. Aech and Tom followed close behind, their hearts pounding with worry. As they hurried through the maze of corridors, the maintenance worker gave them a quick update. "I'm sorry, but Emily has lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to the infirmary right away. If we don't, she could die."

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight as they continued their frantic race through the warehouse. They turned a corner and almost ran headlong into another group of of thier team, also searching for help. "Over here!" Aech called out, waving his arms to avoid a collision.

The group, consisting of four soldiers and their commanding officer, hurried over. "What's going on?" their CO demanded, his eyes darting between them. "Where's Emily?" Without a word, Aech and Tom pointed down the corridor they had just come from. The soldiers immediately took charge, two of them running ahead to scout the area while the others crouched down beside Emily and began administering first aid.

The maintenance worker, grateful for the extra help, stepped back to allow the soldiers to work their magic. He glanced at his watch, his brow furrowed. "We're not far from the infirmary," he said. "We can get her there quickly, but she's in bad shape."

Emily's breathing became shallower, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, her expression a mix of fear and confusion. "Wha-what happened?" she managed to croak. One of the soldiers, his voice steady and reassuring, replied, "Shhh, you're safe now. We're taking you to the infirmary where they'll fix you up."

The maintenance worker, who had been watching her closely, nodded in agreement. He glanced at his watch again, his brow furrowing as he realized they were taking longer than anticipated. "We shouldn't waste any more time," he muttered under his breath.

As they continued their frantic dash down the corridor, Emily's breath grew shallower and her skin paler. Her heart raced, and her head began to spin. "I-I'm n-not…," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

The maintenance worker, who was now carrying her, glanced back worriedly at the group following them. "We're almost there," he assured her, his voice shaking. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt as if she were floating, her body growing heavier with each passing second. Her vision blurred, and she could no longer make out the faces of her teammates or the unfamiliar hallways they were hurrying through. She tried to focus on their voices, but they seemed to fade in and out like a distant radio signal.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she was vaguely aware of the maintenance worker carrying her, his strong arms supporting her weight as he raced through the warehouse. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her ear, and the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she would be fine, but her words wouldn't come out.

The corridor spun around her, a blur of white walls and red emergency lights. She caught glimpses of her teammates, their faces etched with worry and determination, their movements a blur as they hurried along beside them. The air around her felt thick and heavy, like she was swimming through water, and her limbs felt impossibly heavy.

Emily tried to focus on anything, but her vision was foggy and her thoughts were slow and sluggish. She wanted to tell them she was okay, that she would be fine, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, she let herself be carried by the rhythm of their steps, her head lolling against the maintenance worker's shoulder as he hurried down the hallway.

The air around her felt thick and hot, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of heavy wool. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy, and every movement was a struggle. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this tired, this weak.

The maintenance worker carrying her seemed to sense her distress, glancing over his shoulder at her with concern etched on his face. "Almost there," he assured her, his voice rough with emotion. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt a pang of regret as she looked down at her jacket pocket, wondering what the small, glinting object was that had caused such a commotion. She knew it must be important, but her thoughts were growing fuzzy, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up on her.

The maintenance worker carrying her glanced back at her with concern, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the group following them. "Almost there," he murmured reassuringly, his breath warm against her ear.

Emily tried to focus on his voice, on the words he was saying, but her eyelids grew heavy and her head spun. The air around her seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive with each passing second, making it difficult to breathe. She felt as if she were drowning, her limbs growing heavier and more leaden with every struggle.

Emily felt a surge of determination as she tried to focus on his voice, on the words he was saying. She wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she would be fine, but her words wouldn't come out. Instead, she tried to sit up straighter, to steel herself against the overwhelming fatigue that threatened to drag her down.

The maintenance worker, sensing her renewed strength, adjusted his grip on her, his arms supporting her weight more securely. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a reassuring smile, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before he turned back to the group following them. "this way there are some doctors waiting for us ," he assured her, his voice strong and steady.

Emily forced herself to focus on his words, to take in the details of the corridor around her. The air felt cleaner now, less oppressive, and the red emergency lights seemed to dim ever so slightly. The walls were still a sterile white, but she could see signs of life now: posters advertising safety procedures, reminders to wash hands, and even a few bright flowers in a vase near the end of the hall.

As they rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the doctors waiting for them. They looked serious, but their eyes were full of concern and compassion. The maintenance worker carrying her slowed his pace, careful not to jostle her too much, and finally came to a stop in front of a set of double doors. One of the doctors stepped forward, taking her weight from the maintenance worker's arms.

Emily felt a wave of relief wash over her as she was lowered gently onto a waiting gurney. The doctor who had taken her weight quickly checked her vitals, noting her heightened heart rate and rapid breathing. He glanced at the maintenance worker and the others who had accompanied her, their faces etched with worry.

"She's stable for now," the doctor murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. "We'll take her back to get her checked out and she may need surgery based on her injuries" He turned to the waiting nurses, issuing instructions as they wheeled her down the hall.

Emily lay on the gurney, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, the white walls and sterile floors bathed in the harsh red emergency lights. She could hear the distant beeping of machines and the muffled footsteps of medical staff as they hurried past.

The doctor who had taken her vital signs was now examining her closely, his face a mask of concern. "Emily," he began gently, "I'm afraid you've been shot multiple times. You're going to be okay, but we need to get you to surgery as soon as possible." He paused, meeting her eyes with a reassuring smile. "You're in good hands here. Just try to rest and focus on getting better."

Emily tried to nod, but the movement made her wince with pain. "Okay," she managed to croak out.

The doctor gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping back. "We're almost there," he told her, his voice steady and calm. "The surgical team is waiting for you."

Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as the gurney began to roll forward once more. The sterile air of the hallway gave way to the familiar smell of antiseptic and the beeping of machines as they entered the surgical ward. Doctors and nurses in sterile white coats bustled around them, their efficient movements a testament to their expertise and training.

As they approached a set of double doors, a woman in a pale blue scrub suit rushed over to them. "Dr. Webber," she said, her voice tinged with urgency, "we're ready for you in Room 3. The anesthesiologist and the surgical team are waiting."

Dr. Webber, a tall man with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, nodded gratefully at the nurse. "Thank you, grey . How's she doing?"

"Her vitals are stable for now," the intern replied, glancing briefly at Emily before turning back to Dr. Webber. "But we're keeping a close eye on her. The anesthesiologist is ready to put her under as soon a we're in the OR."

Dr. Webber nodded, his expression grave but determined. "Thank you, . Let's get her in there and take care of her." He turned to Emily's teams, who ere waiting anxiously nearby. "gentlemen" he said gently, "we're going to take excellent care of your lieutenant We'll keep you updated every step of the way."

The team of surgeons filed into the operating room, led by Dr. Webber and the anesthesiologist. Emily's eyes fluttered open, panic rising in her chest as she realized she was about to be put under. "Wait," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible over the beeping of the machines, "tom and aech… they… they called my mom yet…?" Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat, and she struggled to breathe.

Dr. Webber glanced over his shoulder at the nurse, who nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, Emily," he said gently, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "They're here with you. Your friends tom and aech called your mother earlier to let her know what was going on. They're both here in the waiting room, waiting for updates from us. We'll make sure she knows you're doing as well as you can be."

Emily's chest tightened, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. "Okay," she managed to whisper. "Okay."

Dr. Webber smiled gently at her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I know it's scary, Emily, but we're here with you every step of the way. Your mom is going to be in good hands with tom and aech. They're both incredibly strong and resilient people, and they'll make sure she knows everything that's going on. You just focus on getting better, okay?"

Emily nodded weakly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Okay," she whispered.

Dr. Webber glanced at the anesthesiologist, who gave him a nod. "All right," he said gently, "let's get you prepped for surgery, Emily." The anesthesiologist placed a mask over Emily's face, and she felt the anesthesia begin to take effect. Her body went numb, and her surroundings grew fuzzy. She could hear distant voices, but they sounded as if they were underwater.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Emily's thoughts kept returning to tom and aech, and her mother and her siblings She wished she could be with them, to reassure them and to feel their love and support. She hoped they were all right, and that they knew she was going to be okay.

Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, tom and aech sat next to Emily's mother who was flown into immediately as she was called , holding her hands and rubbing her back. They had both called their own parents earlier to tell them what was going on and ask for their support. Tom had always been the strong one, but even he felt a lump in his throat as he tried to comfort Emily's mother.

"They're doing everything they can for her, Mrs. Leclerc ," tom said softly. "Dr. Webber is one of the best surgeons around. Emily is in good hands."

Aech nodded in agreement. "We've been texting each other updates from the waiting room. They've been telling us about every step of the process, and they sound so hopeful. They believe in her, just like we do."

" do the boys know what happened Pascale?" asked aech , his voice quivering slightly. Emily's mother shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Dr. Webber explained that Emily's windpipe had become compressed, making it difficult for her to breathe. They're operating now to relieve the pressure and hopefully restore her breathing, and that a bullet ot two have entered her chest cavity " she managed to choke out.

Tom squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Dr. Webber and his team are some of the best in the business, and they're going to do everything they can for her. They've got all the latest technology at their fingertips, and they're not going to stop until she's better."

Aech nodded in agreement. "And Emily's a fighter, Mrs. Leclerc. She's been through a lot in her life, but she's always come out stronger on the other side. I know she's going to pull through this."

Pascale looked up at them, her red eyes filled with hope and gratitude. "Thank you both so much for being here for her," she said, her voice shaking. "I can't tell you how much it means to me, and to our entire family. Your support is going to help Emily more than you'll ever know."

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, an surgical intern cleared his throat. "So, uh, we talked to the doctors, and they're doing some tests to see how much damage was done to her windpipe, and how many ribs were broken. We'll let you know as soon as we hear anything."

Tom and Aech exchanged worried glances, then turned to Emily's mother who seemed in a dazed ans snapped her out of it. "They're running some tests, Pascale, but they're confident they can fix whatever's wrong. And, uh, they told us that Emily was very lucky. The bullet that hit her chest didn't damage any major organs, and it didn't even puncture her lung."

Pascale's eyes widened with hope. "Really?" she managed to choke out. "Then she has a good chance?"

Tom nodded solemnly. "That's right, Pascale. The doctors are very positive about her chances. They say that she's strong, and that she's fighting hard. We just have to keep the faith and be there for her."

' i should probably call Enzo and let him know what's happing and he can get here with Charles and Arthur as soon as they can' cried Pascale , already reaching for her purse. The two men exchanged a worried glance, but didn't say anything. They knew that Emily's family was close-knit, and that having her brothers there would mean the world to her.

"Here, let me do that," Aech said, gently taking her phone out of her hand. He dialed Emily's older brothers number and put it on speaker so Pascale could hear. There was a brief pause, and then a tired voice answered. "Hello?"

"Enzo, it's Aech. We're with Emily at the hospital. She was shot tonight, but the doctors are doing everything they can. They say she's strong and she's fighting hard," Aech said, his voice cracking slightly. "She's in good hands, but we could really use you and the rest of the family here with us."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Oh my God," Enzo finally whispered. "I'm on my way. Charles and Arthur too. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Pascale let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping in relief. "Thank you, Enzo. I can't tell you how much that means to us all. We love you and your brothers."

The room was filled with the sound of muffled sobs as the news began to sink in for Emily's family. Tom put his arm around Pascale, offering what little comfort he could. "We'll stay here with her, Pascale. You should go back to the hotel and get some rest. The doctors said there's nothing you can do right now, so try to get some sleep."

Pascale shook her head, wiping away tears. "I can't leave her," she whispered. "I can't, i can;t loose her too"

Tom squeezed her shoulder gently. "You need to take care of yourself, Pascale. Emily needs you to be strong for her. We'll stay right here with her, okay?"

Aech nodded in agreement. "And, listen, we'll keep you updated every step of the way. You're not going to hear anything through the news or social media that we don't tell you first, okay?"

Pascale nodded, sniffling. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thank you." She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands. "I just can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "Why would someone do this to her?"

Tom placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We don't know, Pascale. But we'll find out. The commanders are on it." He glanced over at Aech, who was pacing back and forth near the window. "In the meantime, let's make sure Emily knows that we're all here for her, okay?"

Pascale nodded, sniffling as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thank you." She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

after a few hours later Enzo, Charles, Aurthur and their girlfriends arrive at the hospital.

they all walk in and see tom and aech sitting in the waiting chairs half asleep on each others shoulders while the rest of the team are spread around the waiting room.

As Enzo, Charles, Arthur, and their girlfriends approach, they exchange hugs and words of encouragement with Emily's team. They all take seats around the waiting room, trying to stay positive and supportive. The room is tense, but there's also an undercurrent of determination and strength that comes from being together in this difficult time

"wheres our mother?" asked charles "she should be here"

" we sent her back to the hotel a few hours ago to rest: said aech

"shes too worried about emily to get any sleep here." He looked over at enzo, charles and arthur. "i'm glad you all are here now. It helps."

"of course we're here for her. we'll get through this together." Enzo said, squeezing Tom's shoulder. "Any updates from the commanders?"

Aech shook his head. "Not yet, but they're working on it. They're going through all the footage from the arena, and they're trying to track down anyone who might have seen something." He glanced over at Emily, her condition seeming to grow more grave with each passing moment. "They'll find whoever did this, I promise."

"what happened exacly?" asked aurthur .

"well, according to the doctors, Emily was hit by a poisoned dart and shot multiply times while she was trying to save a teammate during the attack . They're still trying to stabilize her, but it's been a bit of a rollercoaster ride so far," explained Tom. "It's horrible, just horrible."

" we were ambushed from all sides, we had nowwhere to go" explained tom "i was shot, aech was shot, emily was shot. we tried to fight back but they were too many. we hid in the bushes and waited for backup but it never came"

" and then emily found a abandoned truck and carried everyone who was injured to the truck and drove like hell" aech said , starting to cry again "she saved all of us but they shot her again, they shot her in the chest" he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "she's strong, she's going to be okay, we just have to believe that"

The waiting room remained tense as they continued to exchange stories and tried to comfort each other. Aurthur, Enzo, and Charles looked at each other, knowing that they had to be strong for Emily and the rest of the team. They each took turns pacing, trying to burn off some of the nervous energy that was coursing through their veins.

Charlette and Alex , enzo and charles girlfriends had went and gotten coffee for everyone and brought it back to the waiting room. They tried to make small talk with everyone but it seemed like no one wanted to talk. Everyone was too worried about Emily. Tom and Aech were constantly checking their phones, waiting for any news from the commanders.

"You know, Emily would want us to be strong right now. She'd want us to fight for her," Enzo said, trying to encourage the group. "We need to stay positive and believe that she's going to pull through this."

"I agree, Enzo. She's a fighter, and she's not going to give up without a fight," said Aurthur. "We just have to keep telling ourselves that."

The waiting room fell silent again as they all focused on Emily, willing her to pull through. The doctors and nurses came in and out, giving updates on her condition, but there was little change. They were still working to stabilize her.

Aech finally broke the silence. "Guys, I can't just sit here. I need to do something. We all need to do something." He stood up, looking determined. "We need to find out who did this. We need to make them pay."

" just as aech was complaining, dr.webber walked out and with him was two other doctors.

dr.webber looked at the group and said "i have some good news and some bad news. the good news is, we were able to stabilize her. the bad news is, we had to put her into a medically induced coma. the poison is too strong and we need to give her body time to fight it off"

"what's going to happen to her while she's in the coma?" asked Tom, his voice shaking.

"Well, she'll be hooked up to a ventilator to help her breathe, and we'll continue to monitor her vitals. We'll also administer antitoxins to help combat the poison. But it's still too early to tell how she's going to respond. We're going to keep her in intensive care for now, and we'll update you on her condition as we learn more," explained DR.Shepard the neuro-surgeon one of the other doctors .

" what about the her chest" asked aech "is she going to be okay?" "well, the bullet didn't hit any vital organs, so her heart should be fine. however, the poison has caused some damage to her lungs. we'll have to monitor that closely as well. there's a chance she may need a lung transplant down the road, but that's something we'll cross when we come to it," explained Dr.Burke the cardo- surgeon .

"thank god the bullet didn't hit anything else," Tom said, visibly relieved.

"Listen, we're going to do everything we can for Emily," Dr.Shepard assured the group. "She's in good hands here. But we're also going to need your help. You all need to stay positive and supportive. Keep the visitors to a minimum so she can rest. And most importantly, trust in the medical staff to do our jobs."

"I will," Tom said, nodding. "I'll be here for her, no matter what." He wiped a tear from his eye.

"So will I," Aech added. "And we'll find whoever did this, and we'll make them pay." He shot a determined look at the doctors.

Dizziness overcame Enzo as he realized the gravity of the situation. He sat down heavily in a chair, his head in his hands. "This is all my fault," he whispered. "I should've been there. I should've protected her. I should have told her not to join the army and instead i encourage her to join''. His voice broke, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Aech put a reassuring hand on Enzo's shoulder. "Hey, man, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known this would happen. We're all in this together now, and we're going to find out who did this and make them pay."

Dr.Webber nodded. "Yes, and in the meantime, I want you all to focus on Emily. Stay positive and supportive. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers. We'll do everything we can here."

The doctors left the room, giving the friends a moment to process the information. Enzo leaned back in his chair, still unable to meet Aech's eyes. "I don't know how I'm going to handle this," he whispered. "I feel so guilty."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Aech said, his voice soft. "We all make mistakes. We just have to focus on getting Emily through this and finding whoever did this to her."

" hey enzo, you are the person emily looks up to since dad passed away" charles said "if anyone can help her get through this, it's you. Just be there for her, okay?"

Enzo took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice still shaky. "I promise."

"Good, good," Charles said, his voice reassuring. "Now, let's go visit Emily. I'm sure she'd love to see some friendly faces."

" we should propnaly call mom first" said aurthur "she's gonna need to hear about this as well" . charles nodded and dialed the number.

their mother answered the phone with a shaky voice, her words choked with tears. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Charles said gently. "It's me, Charles. Listen, emily is out of surgery and is in a medical coma"

Their mother let out a choked sob. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Is she going to be okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know, Mom. The doctors are doing everything they can. But we need to stay positive and supportive. Emily's going to need us now more than ever. do you want someone to come and get you?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Their mother was clearly struggling to keep it together. "Yes," she said finally. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right, Mom," Charles said. "Take your time. We'll keep you updated. And we'll need your support too. We're all in this together."

"Thank you, Charles," their mother said, sniffling. "I'll be there as soon as I can." She paused for a moment, then added, "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too, Mom," Charles replied gently. "Now, why don't you take a deep breath and try to calm down before you get here. Emily can feel your emotions, and we need to stay strong for her."

As their mother finished the call, they all stood up and headed toward Emily's room. The hallway was crowded with worried family members, all exchanging hushed whispers and tearful glances. It was a somber procession as they made their way down the hall, their footsteps echoing against the sterile white walls.

Finally, they reached Emily's room. everyone paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before them. Emily lay motionless in the bed, her face pale and peaceful, surrounded by a tangle of wires and medical equipment. The beeping of the monitors filled the air, creating a rhythmic, yet unsettling background noise.

Enzo stepped forward, his heart racing. He took Emily's hand in his, feeling the coldness of her skin against his own. "Hey, Em," he whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "We're all here. We're not going anywhere. just know your big brother is here"

Aurthur sat down gently in a chair next to the bed, his eyes never leaving Emily's face. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his own racing thoughts. "Em, we love you so much," he said softly. "We're going to do everything we can to help you get through this. You're so strong, and we know you can fight this and i need my big sister to cover for me when i mess with enzo and charles"

Charles nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from Emily's forehead. "You're not alone, Em. We're all here for you, okay? And when you wake up, we're all going to have an amazing adventure together. Just you wait and see and i want you to meet your nephew Leo, whos a dog by the way"

As they sat with Emily, the hours seemed to drag on. The doctors and nurses came and went, each one bringing news both hopeful and dire. They tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, talking about school and work and their favorite movies, but the weight of Emily's condition hung over them like a dark cloud.

The room was bustling with activity, but for the seven of them, it might as well have been a lonely island. They were all so focused on Emily, their world had narrowed down to this tiny space. They shared glances, held hands, and whispered words of encouragement.

Time seemed to slow down as they waited, the beeping of the monitors filling the air. Every time a doctor or nurse came in, their hearts would leap into their throats, only to sink again when they heard the news was good.

Aurthur was the first to speak up. "Hey Em, do you remember that time we snuck out of the house and went to that amusement park?" He asked, trying to elicit a smile. "We had so much fun, and we got in so much trouble!"

Enzo nodded, his eyes filling with tears. "Yeah, I remember. It was like we were invincible. We could do anything, be anyone." He wiped away a tear, trying to maintain his composure. "We should've known that day we could conquer anything, because we did. We conquered our fears and we lived life to the fullest."

Aurthur smiled at his friend, then turned to Emily. "You know, Em, I think about that day a lot. It's funny how sometimes the smallest things in life can change us. I mean, that amusement park trip was just supposed to be a day off from summer school, but it ended up being so much more."

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claire-elvisgirl · 1 year ago

Text

🎄 A CHRISTMAS PAINTING 🎄

Hi again. This was supposed to come out on Christmas day, but I've been sick and so it slipped away, but I think it's time to give it to you. I hope you like it!

Summary: Christmas time is near. You’re looking for inspirations to paint and Elvis needs some good feelings, since it’s the first Christmas without his mother

Warnings: Fluff, light smut

Word cunt: 3618

Memphis, December 1958

It was almost Christmas. The first Christmas without his mother. Elvis was struggling to feel some good vibes from the most joyful season of the year, but it was really hard. He often walked in her room and sat on her bed, then he would lay down there and cry in silence. He didn’t want anybody to see him so vulnerable. He wondered how could he go on with his life now that she was gone…the movies, the recordings…everything lost its meaning, but he knew that sooner or later he had to held his head high and try to be well again. And that’s when you came in help. You studied art and your biggest passion was painting. You painted practically everything, everywhere, and you always carried with you pencils and sheets. You were also a big Elvis fan and you never hid to anyone that your biggest dream was being able to paint a portrait of him…live. You already sketched him so many times on your book, but a live portrait would have been the cherry on the cake. So you took courage and you sent a letter asking to meet him. With your biggest surprise, he accepted and when you received the answer you almost passed out. He sent one of his friends to pick you up and he had you taken to Graceland. As you reached his house your jaw fell on the floor: even if his sadness still hit him hard, the yard was full of lights and many Christmas trees surrounded the house. A big nativity scene was placed on the side of the road and as you passed by your eyes widened, like a child under the Christmas tree. The guy who picked you up took you inside, he had you sit on the long white couch and asked you to wait. You looked around yourself. Everything was shiny and at his right place. The house held a great sense of family, but you knew something had changed. You read on the newspaper about his mother’s passing and you still wondered how he felt. You didn’t even imagine he would have welcomed you in his house to fulfil one of your biggest dream. After a while, you heard voices coming from the upper floor and as you turned your head, you saw him entering the room. He was literally the most handsome man you ever laid your eyes on and as he approached you, you felt your legs trembling and your heart beating faster. He put on a little smile and held out his hand to you: “Hi, I’m Elvis Presley, ya must be y/n, right!?” he asked gently. You held his hand and you felt a huge sense of warmth spreading from it, almost like he just held something very hot, but he didn’t, it was his personal charm that hit you like a wave.

You tried to answer, but words were stuck in your troath: “Y-yes…it’s…a pleasure to meet you…”

He came closer to you: “Aw don’t be so nervous, I don’t bite and I’m always happy to meet my fans!” he answered with a sweet smile. Then he motioned you to sit down. “Ya wanna something to drink?” he asked. You shook your head with a smile. He sat down next to you crossing his legs: “So…y/n, right? I read your letter and…ya said you’re some kind of…artist!?”

You were trying to calm down as you answered: “Yes, actually I study art and I love to paint…that’s why I sent that letter, but…I never thought you…”

“You never thought I was interested?” he asked “I’m always interested in pretty things!”

You blushed and coughed: “Well…if you read my letter you know why I’m here…I suppose…”

“I did. Ya really want to paint a portrait of me!?” he asked with a smile.

“Why not? I won’t even make you pay…it would be a great promotion for me!” you answered gently.

He looked at you curiously: “But why me?”

“Oh please, you’re perfect, you would be the best subject in the whole world!”

He put on a big smile: “Ya truly think so?”

You smiled back and you felt a great sense of joy, because that was the first time you saw him really smiling: “I have no doubts, but if you don’t want to…that’s okay…”

“Oh no hun, I’m more than happy to help ya, I’ll be proud to be your model!” he replied holding out his hand and grabbing your sketchbook “May I?”

You tried to stop him, but he was already peeking into it. He turned page after page and he found many pictures of him: “Why y/n, it seems ya already practiced on me!”

You took the book back embarrassed: “Well, you weren’t supposed to see them…”

“Ya kiddin’? Now that I saw how good ya are I’ll be even happier to pose for ya!”

You felt your heart full of joy: “Really? Oh my God, I’m so happy I could kiss you!” and as you said those words, you blushed even more and stuttered: “Oh dear…I-I’m sorry…I…”

He giggled at your embarrassment: “Aw, that’s okay, there’s no need to apologize. Would ya like to know something?”

“What?”

“You’re adorable when ya get embarrassed!” he pinched your nose with a warm smile on his face and he laughed a little bit. You headed for the door: “I have to go now, when could we start the painting?” you asked.

“Tomorrow night…is it okay for ya?” he asked.

“Perfect…see you tomorrow then!”

As you walked home, he watched at you from his doorstep. He felt a strange sensation into his heart, something like a sweet feeling blowing through his body. He closed the door and he went to his parents’ room. He picked up a photo of his mother and smiled at it…and for a little while she seemed to smile back too.

The following day…

You spent the whole night daydreaming and it was about time to get dressed for meeting him. You picked out your favourite dress and you put on some make-up, in hopes to be as beautiful as ever for him. After you dressed, you fixed a bag with all your painting stuff and then you got out of your house. The same car that picked you up the day before, was already waiting for you. The car drove slowly towards Graceland and your heart beat faster as you got closer to the house. You got off the car and you saw him on the stairs of the front door waiting for you. He wore a black two-pieces suit that left his chest in sight, a detail that you could not avoid to see. He ran to you and he gave you a big hug, taking your hand and leading you to the house.

“Hi darlin’!” he whispered to you with his beautiful voice. You looked around nervously and followed him with a blush on your face.

“Ya have no reason to be nervous!” he said smiling. Then he took your hand and grabbed it tight, making sure not to let go. His presence had a sort of effect on you, making you nervous and happy at the same time. You smiled and walked towards the doorway, Elvis following close behind you. He walked over to a beautiful piano in the corner and he sat down gently. As he tapped his fingers on it, he spoke to you: “Would ya like to see upstairs as well?! Or would ya like to start the painting now?” his voice still calm.

You looked at him and you noticed a sweet ray of sunlight kissing his hair. It was perfect: “I was thinking that maybe that would be the right place for the painting…there at the piano I mean…unless you don’t have a better idea!”

He glanced at the piano and then back at you: “I would love to have ya paint me at the piano, it’s one of my favourite spots in the house. I often play this piano actually…” he answered playing a sweet melody “So it’s done…I’ll pose here, just lemme know what ya want me to do!”

“Well…just be yourself!” you answered with a smile as you took out your pencils and brushes.

“Alright then, I’ll be myself just for ya baby!” he answered sitting on the bench. He placed his hands on the piano and his knees bent a little bit. He took a deep breath and looked at you: “Alright, go ahead…don’t stop until it’s finished!” he said in a genuine and serious tone.

“Alright then…here we go!” you took a deep breath and posed gently the pencil on the paper, starting to sketch his beautiful face. “Oh my God, I’m so nervous…”

He chuckled again: “Ya don’t have to, hun…I’m just here to sit and look pretty for your painting!”

“Thanks…” you answered “Look at me please”

His eyes darted back to you and he smiled, finding your nervousness adorable: “Ya want me to look at ya?”

“Well…I have to decide if it’s better for you to look at the piano or at me!”

He stayed silent for a while before speaking again: “I would say…it depends on what ya want to try to capture…do ya want to show how I look when I play the piano…” he smiled “…or maybe when I look at ya?”

You felt a strange warmth raising to your cheeks and you blushed: “Okay, look at the piano…”

He nodded and turned his eyes back to the piano, making it easy for you to paint. You kept sketching quickly and rough, before starting to give your draw a precise shape. He tried to talk again, but you hushed him.

“Oh okay…but I just have to say one thing…ya don’t know how beautiful ya are when ya paint. It makes me wonder what will come out once you’re done!”

He looked back at the piano as you kept sketching and your emotion grew bigger. As you kept drawing, he sat there and watched at you, fascinating with your artwork and his face showed all his emotions. He kept smiling, but tis time he seemed to be getting lost in his thoughts.

“You feel okay?” you asked him suddenly.

“I feel…like I’m fallin’ in love!” he answered, making you almost falling from the couch. He stared at you speaking with a calm and gentle tone. Your hands trembled a little. He noticed it immediately: “Hey baby, don’t shake too much or I’ll look like a clown!” he laughed.

You took a deep breath: “Try not to embarrass me!”

“Embarrass ya? Why would I do that to someone I’m fallin’ in love with? Let’s get this painting right baby…I think we’re almost done, aren’t we?”

After a while you took a breath: “Okay, let’s stop for a sec…I need to rest for a while…”

He nodded once again and walked close to you: “Take all the time ya need…ya know what? This is the most I’ve sat still since…”

“Since…?” you asked him.

“He stayed silent before speaking again: “Never mind y/n…anyway…make yourself comfortable and take a break!” he paused and waited for you “I’ll be right here hun, the entire time I’m waiting for ya to finish!” he said rubbing gently your shoulders.

“You seem sad…is everything okay?” you asked.

“Sad? Oh it’s nothing baby…nothing at all. It’s just thoughts passin’ through my mind, don’t worry!” he smiled and kept rubbing your shoulders while speaking. “I know I said that, but it’s not like I’m sad, I’m just a little nostalgic…that’s all, I’ll be fine!”

His hands stopped and he looked at you: “Can I ask ya a question?”

“Sure!” you answered as you adjusted the sketch.

“Why do ya like painting so much?” he kept looking at you “Is it the way ya feel free? The way ya can create whatever ya want?”

You looked up: “Well…my grandpa was a painter too…and when I was little I loved watching him painting…”

He seemed surprised: “Ah, so that’s who influenced ya? And do ya do it just for fun or is this something that ya do to make money?”

“Well, I don’t know if it can someday bring me money…but it’s not the main thing…”

He smiled: “I’m pretty sure there’s someone out there that will gladly buy your artworks y/n, ya just have to find the right person!” he stayed silent for a while, making sure his words reached your heart and soul. Then his eyes fell on your drawing: “This is amazing…”

His voice still remained calm as he kept talking: “Remember, ya only need to paint whatever ya want. Don’t let other people pressure ya into what they want ya to paint…just stick to your heart…” he smiled sweetly “You’re doin’ a great job!”

You moved your hands on the paper again, but his voice and his presence made you tremble so many times that you felt you couldn’t keep going on with your work. He notices it: “Baby ya seem so nervous and uncomfortable…”

“N-no, I’m fine…don’t worry…”

“Da ya mind if I ask ya something?” he asked gently.

“What is it?”

“What are ya gonna do with this painting?” he asked curiously.

“I was thinking of gifting it to you…so you can do what you want with it…”

He seemed completely surprised: “Baby ya don’t have to gift anything to me…ya can keep it for yourself if ya want!”

“Don’t worry…it would be a pleasure!” you replied.

“Well, I…if ya insist on givin’ it to me, I’ll gladly take it, but…I-I wanna giva ya something in return!”

He looked at you with his twinkling eyes: “I never thought I’d find a person like ya…I think I…”

You saw him getting closer and closer: “Elvis, I…”

After a while, your lips met in a tender kiss. He rubbed your hair without breaking the kiss. His lips pressed harder on yours and he kept kissing you, while his hands caressed you from head to toes. Suddenly he pulled away: “Y/n…” he looked at you and kissed you again with more passion. You felt overwhelmed, but you didn’t find the strength to stop him. You leaned closer and kissed him again. He moved closer again, trying to get the most pleasure out of that kiss. After a while, he stopped: “God baby…I could kiss ya for hours…”

You threw away your pencil and your sketchbook and held him back, feeling your emotions growing bigger: “Please…kiss me again!” you begged. He chuckled and smiled, before pulling you towards him once again, pressing his lips on yours. His kiss was soft at first, but then he moved his hands slowly to your waist. He pulled you close and placed his hands around your hips, still kissing you with a sensual, soft and passionate kiss. Then he looked at you: “How do ya like that kiss, my lil’ artist?”

You were speechless: “You’re literally my best model…I usually paint apples and oranges…and they don’t get up and kiss me like that…” you laughed.

He laughed back: “Ah yeah…I do seem to look much better than a piece of fruit, don’t I?”

You looked at him, thinking you would have gladly tasted that piece of fruit, but your eyes fell on your watch: “Oh my God…it’s late…I have to go!”

He nodded and spoke to you in a flirty tone: “One last kiss…pretty please…I’ll make it quick, I promise!?”

You couldn’t say no and your lips met again, even if for a shorter time.

You looked at him: “Could…could you take me home?” you asked.

“Of course hun…it’s the least I can do to thank you for the wonderful painting…and for those kisses!”

He took your hand and walked to the door, opening it for you. Before stepping outside, you asked him: “It’ll be possible that we see each other again?”

He smiled: “I think we definitely will see each other again…I don’t think I can’t be too far from ya anymore! And I don’t mean just kissin ya…I wanna take care of ya in ev’ry possible way…I wanna love ya…”

You stopped and looked at him: “What?”

He watched you raising an eyebrow: “What’s wrong? I’m just being honest with ya…and I’m tellin’ ya how I really feel about ya!”

“You mean…”

“I’m tellin’ that I love ya! It took me a while to understand it, but…I love ya, so…I really wanna see ya again soon…can I?”

You were shocked hearing his words: “Well…why not? I mean…there would be nothing wrong…”

“What about this weekend?” he asked.

“I…I’d love to!” you replied.

He grabbed your hands: “I-I feel this sudden happiness…a-and I think…I truly wanna spend ev’ry single day of my life with ya!” he looked at you waiting for an answer.

“Oh Elvis…” your eyes filled with tears.

“What…is it too soon to say these things?” he asked “Am I being too honest?”

“I think…maybe it’s too early…” you replied, not being able to leave the hold of his hands.

“I’m sorry baby, but when it comes to ya, I can’t lie…”

You felt scared, but at the same time you felt the same things for him, you were just too nervous to tell him. You answered him with a kiss, but suddenly something happened. The passion hit both of you and you found yourselves on the couch, kissing and caressing each other. His eyes widened as soon as you pulled him closer and he took a moment to realize what was happening. He closes his eyes and put his hands behind your head, wanting to keep that kiss going for as long as he could. He moved his hands along your body, until he found himself caressing you all over. He smiled and his voices sounded softer, just to make you feel more comfortable. Then he leaned closer and whispered in your ear: “Y/n, I can’t wait for the weekend…it’s almost Christmas, would ya mind stayin’ tonight? I don’t wanna walk ya home now!”

You looked at him shocked: “Elvis, I…” he held you so tight that you could feel his heart beating hard in his chest “I feel the same…I don’t wanna go home…I wanna stay here with you!”

He pulled you closer to him and he kissed you again, deeper and more passionately. He wrapped his arms around your body and he moved his hands down to your hips: “I feel I can be completely myself with ya...and I like that feeling!”

You enjoyed his hug and your mind started to race…would have he really keep you for himself? Would have he marry you? You thought it was better not to have any expectations with him…you decided to just enjoy things while they lasted. It was Christmas’ Eve and instead of being with your family, you were in Elvis’ arms, enjoying probably the best night of your life. He looked sweetly at you: “Baby…I wanna spend all my Christmases with ya…” he said holding you. As he looked at his watch, he looked right into your eyes: “I just can’t go to sleep without my gift…”

You perfectly knew what he was talking about and without saying a word you followed him into his bedroom. Your heart kept beating faster as you got closer and closer to spend the night with him. Once you got inside the bedroom, he closed the door and he turned to you speaking gently to you: “Baby…I want ya to know…I’m not gonna force ya to do anything ya don’t wanna do, okay?”

You looked at him and nodded: “Okay!”

He kept kissing you in a loving and romantic way, talking to you in a soft and gentle tone: “Baby, ya can’t even imagine how much I want ya right now…” he smiled and for once in a long time he felt really happy. You looked at him and caressed him gently: “I…I want you too!”

He pushed you gently on his bed and he started to touch you with a gentle touch, full of all his love. As he caressed you, he asked you in a whisper: “Baby…can I…?”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but you perfectly knew what he was asking for. You looked at him and murmured a soft yes, as you let him taking off your clothes. After a while, both of you were completely naked, wrapped around each other, while your bodies warmed one on the other. You found yourself pinned down on the bed, with him covering you completely. You could feel the warmth of his body spreading towards you and after a while, he climbed on top of you, making you feel his hardness, pointing right at your core. As he moved gently, you felt his hard member pushing slowly inside you, making you gasp from the sudden pleasure. He moved up and down, making you feel the best pleasure of your life. It was the first time for you, but you didn’t tell him; you just enjoyed that incredible wave of pleasure that hit you with his every movement. Suddenly you felt his cock getting even harder and with a loud moan he came inside you, filling you with his hot juice. That feeling sent you over the moon. He didn’t even asked you, but you couldn’t be angry with him. You loved him so much that you let him have his way with you without stopping him. He gently pulled out and looked sweetly at you: “’M sorry baby…I-I…”

“You don’t have to be sorry…” you replied “…everything’s alright!”

Suddenly, a distant clock rang twelve times and he hugged you tighter than ever: “Happy Christmas baby!”

#elvis presley #elvis the king #this man will be the death of me #elvis smut #50s elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #elvis at christmas #christmas #obsessed with elvis

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viatagrinner · 2 years ago

Text

Keith VS Licht. A struggle sweeter than candy.

MC received an invitation ticket to a candy store from a friend she met in town.

But what is written in small letters on the ticket surprised her. She doesn't know what to do. At that moment, the girl hears two people's footsteps.

Keith: Hey, Miss MC.

Licht: It's rare to see you with such a frown on your face.

MC: Prince Licht, Prince Keith!

They're probably both back from practice.

Yves once told MC that both guys train with each other a lot.

Keith: Can I talk to you?

Keith: As Mr. Licht said, you seemed to be in some kind of trouble.

Keith: Besides, I think it's easier to find a solution with two people than with one.

MC: Prince Keith...

Licht: ..... With three people.

Keith: What?

Licht: It's much easier to find three people than two.

Keith: Mr. Licht.....

MC: Prince Licht...

Licht: Why is Keith calling my name too?

Keith: I'm sorry. I'm just glad that you felt the same way.

The girl feels good that they care about her.

However...

(Prince Licht and Prince Kate's words make me genuinely happy.)

(But the reason I was worried wasn't so hard.)

She dared to show the invitation ticket.

Licht: Each ticket is valid for...

Keith: You are both welcome to visit us.

MC: So, I thought it would be a waste to go alone, and I was worried...

Keith & Licht: ......

(This is what I mean when I say that silence is the best.)

Both guys' silence is unbearable for Miss.

MC: Sorry, the reason for your concern is too small.

Licht: It's really small.

MC: I'm really sorry...

Licht: But I'm glad it was something that could be solved quickly.

Licht: A frown doesn't suit you.

Keith: That's right. I want Miss MC to smile.

Again, the words of the two princes warmed the girl. MC is very glad to have met them when she was confused.

MC: Listening to your kind words, I'm beginning to think that I don't have to solve my problem...

Licht & Keith: What...?

MC: It's written that there must be two people, and I'm alone...

Keith: No.

Keith: Oh, no, I just thought it would be more fun if you could go with someone else.

Keith hastily mouthed his words in a panic, lowering his eyebrows.

Keith: I'm sorry to interrupt you so suddenly.

MC: No, it's okay.

But it can't be helped, it takes two people.

MC: A man to go with me....

The two princes immediately stepped forward and opened their mouths at the same time.

Keith & Licht: Then I...

Keith & Licht: .....

Keith & Licht: Together.

Keith & Licht: ....

(Awesome. Breathtaking.)

The heroine thought she witnessed their closeness to each other/their friendship with each other.

She remembered that both princes have a big sweet tooth and love to eat.

MC gave them the invitation.

MC: Prince Licht and Prince Keith, please enjoy yourselves together.

Licht: How can that happen? You're the one who got the invitation.

Keith: Your decision to use this invitation is final.

Both princes declined her offer.

But then there will be three of them. The choice between the two "gentle" princes, who gladly listened to her, is "heartbreaking".

Licht: You said you had never been in this store.

MC: ....? Yes.

Licht: I know where it is. You should have someone who can give you directions.

Licht: ....But I can also tell you about other good pastry stores.

(Does this mean that Prince Licht will guide me along the way? It would save me a lot of worry.)

The girl's heart leaned toward Licht.

Then Keith raised his hand awkwardly.

Keith: ... MC, you loved books, right?

Keith: There's a popular book about Jade. I'd like to show it to you.

Keith: Hmm... while eating sweets.

Keith's approach is different from Licht's. The girl's heart wavers.

(It's hard to get books from other countries, and I want to know what books are popular.)

My mind leans toward Keith.

She is at a loss, but suddenly an idea pops into her head.

MC: You're both good, but I'm confused.

MC: Let's just rely on luck.

Licht: Luck?

MC: Rock-paper-scissors.

Licht and Keith agree. Tension reads in the air.

(Very serious face, now we're going to play a game of rock-paper-scissors, right?)

There were 10 attempts, but each time Keith and Licht showed the same thing.

Licht and Keith can get along well with each other.

(In some ways, however, I also feel abandoned by my luck.)

The girl decides to stop this game. Licht wonders what she will do next.

She does ask them to accept her invitation card.

The two of them have always helped MC get rid of her feelings of anxiety and depression. Licht would accompany her into town, Keith would invite her to tea parties. This ticket is like a token of gratitude.

Licht: You think candy is the main reason we want to go to the candy store?

MC: Why? Isn't it?

Seeing MC tilt her head, Licht was a little surprised, and Keith smiled.

Keith: No, it's not. Neither Mr. Licht nor I would be this desperate if you weren't with us.

Licht: ...That's why I don't want to give up on you.

Keith: I don't think I want to give up on you either.

Golden and crimson eyes look at her with all seriousness. Princes don't mess around.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

A few days later.

The three of them arrive at the candy store.

MC&Licht&Keith: Delicious...

The girl didn't use her ticket.

Keith and Licht were happily stuffing their cheeks with cake, and the attitude naturally became relaxed.

Keith complimented the cake. But the girl doesn't have that sweetness, then the prince of Jade decided to feed the heroine.

(Maybe I'm the only one who thinks this is embarrassing.)

Determined, she ate the cake.

Keith: I'm glad you liked it, Miss MC. Would you like another piece?

Poor MC's heart struggled to hold out.

But suddenly someone with soft force turned her toward herself. It was Licht.

Licht, having said that there was cream on the girl's cheeks, began to wipe the girl's face a little awkwardly.

He wants to give the heroine a treat, too. Licht offered animal-shaped cookies. The girl took the wolf-shaped cookie. She liked it.

Keith: I've been thinking about it since the tea party, but Miss MC is a good eater.

Licht: Sometimes she looks like an animal.

Keith: Yeah. You move your little mouth and you're so cute I want to look at you forever.

Licht: ....Well, I won't deny it.

Keith: Ah, Mr. Licht thought the same thing.

Keith: Speaking of Miss MC's attractiveness, I wonder if there are other cute things...

Licht: Cute.....

Licht: Sometimes she smiles when she reads a book.

Keith: I didn't see that. I envy you, Mr. Licht.

All the kind words can make the heroine faint with embarrassment.

Keith: What's wrong, Miss MC?

MC: Ah...

Licht: Your face is red.

The girl tries to write it off to the heat.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

In the carriage. On the way to the castle.

Miss has fallen asleep. Keith and Licht look at her. Licht is surprised by Keith's behavior. When it comes to MC, the jade prince doesn't give up. Keith likes that she often talks to him. If the heroine is in trouble, he is happy to help her.

Keith: ....No, that's not the main reason.

Keith: I just...maybe I wanted to get along better with her.

Keith doesn't want to broach the subject of his feelings. He notices that Licht has special feelings for the girl, too.

Keith: I've never seen you so adamant. Is it because it's Miss MC?

Licht: ..... I guess you and I are alike.

Keith: Oh, that sounds like something you didn't want me to ask you about....

Licht: It's not that I don't want to be asked.

Licht: But. I don't know yet, so I don't want to say it.

Licht: I'm just like you when it comes to things that bother me.

The carriage bounced and MC' body nearly fell forward. Keith and Licht sat her back down. The girl didn't even wake up.

The two princes look at her fondly.

Licht: You seem so stoic/serious at times, but there's room for that too.

Licht: Maybe that's why I can't take my eyes off you and want to be there for you.

Keith grinned crookedly.

Keith: ...It goes without saying that Mr. Licht knows more about Miss MC.

Keith: I'm just a little jealous of that... It might be too intrusive to think so.

While MC slept with an innocent sleeping face, the two bumbling beasts seemed to be silently throwing little sparks.

#ikemen prince #ikemen ouji #ikepri #ikepri translation #ikemen licht #ikepri licht #ikemen prince licht #licht klein #ikemen prince keith #ikemen keith #ikepri keith #keith howell

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ughtoomanyfandoms · 2 years ago

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Preacher’s Daughter (The Last of Us) - Joel Miller: American Teenager

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER American Teenager

series masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, DEAD PIGEON unprotected sex, religious trauma, gore, violence, swearing, explicit content, sexual violence.

Word Count: 11.8k

Read on AO3 and Wattpad

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER American Teenager

NOVEMBER 2001

The blaze of the torch and heat of the flame is drowned out by the blaring of music through her headphones. Keeping a steady hand and a focused eye on the soldering work she was doing, the ambient noises of the jewelry shop became a distant drum in the background. She had worked her hands raw and rough from polishing and sanding all day, so she sought respite in the tedious soldering work on the jewelry piece she just started.

Finishing the soldering job, she quickly quenches the piece and takes it to the crock pot to begin pickling. As the song blasting through her headphones fades out, she can barely hear her name being called over the music. Quickly, she pushes her headphones from her ears and turns to see her boss waving for her attention.

“How long have you been calling my name?” She lets out with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it,” her boss responds with a smile. “I thought you were off at four? It’s a little after five right now.”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she responds. “Totally lost track of time. I’ll start wrapping up and head out.”

Her boss gently tells her to lock up after herself and enjoy her night. Waiting for her piece to finish sitting in the pickle, she begins to clean up her work bench. Quickly locking up, she exits onto the streets of downtown Austin.

She’s walking for a little bit

“Lianne!” A voice calls out. Turning to see who called her name, she sees a bushel of brown curly hair bouncing its way towards her. The young girl is almost unrecognizable. Sarah Miller must have grown four inches since Lianne last saw her before moving to New York. She was no longer the little girl whom she used to babysit, but now has grown into a lovely young lady. Having only seen photographs of Sarah that she had received amongst numerous letters from the girl still could not prepare her for how tall the girl had gotten. While being away for college, her and Sarah still kept weekly contact with phone calls and being each other's pen pals.

“No way,” Lianne laughs out, finding herself already embraced by the tall girl. “Who is this beauty? Sarah Miller? You have gotten way too big.”

Two men follow behind Sarah, and Lianne has to do a double take to realize it’s Sarah’s father, Joel, and his brother, Tommy. Her chest fills with a warm comfort as she sees the older man break into a smile.

“All three Miller’s?” Lianne exclaims. “What are y’all doing here in the city?”

“We were just makin’ our way to dinner,” Joel says with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Come with us!” Sarah bursts, excitedly latching onto Lianne’s arm.

Before Lianne can even think of a response, Joel is saying, “The more the merrier,” and Tommy is pressuring her to join them. Finally agreeing, she’s walking arm and arm with Sarah towards the restaurant.

The drinks are brought and set on the table, and Lianne immediately wraps her hands around the glass in front of her, the coolness soothing to her fingers. Joel brings his glass up to his lips, keeping his eyes on Lianne as she casually glances around the restaurant with the smallest smile on her face. As he sets his drink back down, his eyes cast down to her ringed fingers around her glass.

“You’ve got workin’ hands now,” Joel speaks as he notices the cuts and calluses on Lianne’s fingers. She looks at her worn hands and picks at the green metal shavings stuck beneath her fingernails.

“Yeah, being a bench jeweler is tough shit,” she says with a sigh. Lianne reaches over to Joel and flips his hand over, laying her own hand next to his. “But look, we match now.”

“Yeah,” Joel chuckles. “Being a contractor is tough shit,” his eyes sparkle as he throws her words back at her.

“Language,” Sarah warns, taking a sip of her drink. Lianne only smiles more as she nudges Sarah with her elbow.

“So you two still doing freelance work?” Lianne asks as she looks between the two brothers.

Joel opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by his brother which doesn’t go unnoticed by Lianne.

“We’ve been trying to do as many jobs as we can,” Tommy begins to explain. “Joel here has been readin’ up on doin’ his own thing… Startin’ his own business.”

“Oh, really?” Lianne says with a raise of her brows. “Would you two do it together or would it be a one man show?”

“You know Joel doesn’t work well with others outside his bubble,” Tommy taunts his older brother.

“I wouldn’t even say I work well with you,” Joel mumbles into his glass, the smirk on Tommy’s face growing.

“Well,” Lianne interjects. “If y’all need a welder… I know a guy.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind,” Joel responds, his dark eyes twinkling at Lianne. After a moment of looking over the restaurant’s menu, Joel continues. “So where are you staying now that you’re back in Austin?”

“I just have a studio apartment outside of the city,” Lianne replies, looking up from her menu at Joel. She catches the slightest smile at the corner of his lips as she turns to look at Sarah. “Which y’all are more than welcome to come by any time. It ain’t much but the building has some fun hang out areas.”

This excites Sarah, the girl slightly bouncing in her seat. “Oh, yeah! That sounds so fun! Can we go, Dad?”

“You don’t have to ask him,” Lianne says as she gently nudges Sarah. “You can seriously come over whenever you want.”

“Aren’t you a big-city girl now?” Tommy asks. “I mean, you lived in Manhattan. Would’ve thought you’d be living here downtown.”

Joel stiffens at this, and he clears his throat in his brother's direction. Unphased and smiling, Lianne answers in her cheery voice.

“The city just wasn’t for me anymore,” Lianne begins. “As much as I loved it, I’d rather not be right in the middle of the hustle and bustle anymore, you know? It’s nice to work in the city, that’s not a problem. But it’s just nice to get a little bit away from it all and take a break. Plus, I don’t care for being around tall buildings that much.”

The waitress appears then, making Lianne grateful for the questions to finally not be about her as they order their food.

“What about you, Sarah?” Lianne starts. “What’s new? Talking to any boys or-”

“No.” She is immediately cut off by Joel and Tommy sharply answering the question for Sarah. She can’t help but laugh as she looks at the poor girl who just crosses her arms.

It was as if the connection between Sarah and Lianne never faltered. The space and time that was between them over the last three years seemed to be nonexistent as the two fell right into place with each other. It was as if nothing ever happened, and Lianne’s body was radiating with happiness as she found herself content being in the presence of all three Miller’s.

Dinner flies by, the four of them lost in conversations that became scattered in all dimensions. Laughter would fill the air, and Lianne and Sarah would lean into each other and try to cover their laughs. To feel at home with the Miller’s was a blessing to Lianne. Having been out of their immediate lives and the city of Austin for so long had created a bundle of nerves in her when she first moved back. But having been able to unexpectedly run into her favorite people within the few days she had been back had her at ease in an instant.

“So, are you having a graduation party?” Sarah asks, her eyes beaming. Heat rushes to Lianne’s cheeks, and she tries to hide herself by staring into her glass. She chews on her lip before peeking up through her lashes.

“Actually,” Lianne starts slowly. “I didn’t graduate.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asks.

Lianne doesn’t want to respond, the hesitancy creating a thickness in the air. “I dropped out,” she finally says, almost in a whisper.

“Wait, what?” Tommy asks, almost startled. “Why?”

Joel hasn’t brought himself the courage to elaborate on his reaction. To be shocked was an understatement, and he found a tingle of anticipation in his chest. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman in front of him, watching the warmth wash over her cheeks. His intense stare didn’t help Lianne. He had adjusted from his relaxed state of leaning back in his chair to now almost sitting on the edge of his seat, arms leaning on the table.

Lianne didn’t want to tell them. The three people around her had been like family to her before she moved away, and they had all been so excited for her to move to the big city and create something for herself and her passion for jewelry. How could she tell them that she couldn’t do it anymore because, what? She was afraid? That she had been there that day in lower Manhattan? That her ex’s brother had been brought home in a box and she couldn’t bring herself to go to the funeral? She didn’t want to think about it anymore. That’s why she came back home. She couldn’t even begin to think of the attention it would bring to her in the conversation. She just wanted to keep the smiles on their faces, not wanting any sympathy from any of them.

All she can do is let out a long sigh as she tries not to let her eyes begin to tear up.

“It was a fun experience and everything,” she begins. “It’s just that it wasn’t really my year. It was just time to go home.”

A silence falls over the group, and Lianne can’t help but let the awkwardness of it claw at her skin.

“Plus,” Lianne adds with a smile, trying in any way to lighten the mood. “It’s warmer here in the winters. Didn’t think I had it in me to tough out another New York winter.”

After dinner, the group decides to head back to Lianne’s apartment to see it for the first time. Sarah is insistent that she rides with Lianne, and Lianne is more than happy to have her tag along. Parting ways, Joel and Tommy climb into Tommy’s truck and begin following Lianne in her little red sedan.

“God damn,” Tommy says on a sigh as he runs his hand down his face.

“What?” Joel asks, keeping his eyes on the car ahead.

“Lianne sure has… grown up,” Tommy replies, a smirk growing on his lips. “You know what I mean.”

Joel rolls his eyes in annoyance at his brother. “Come on, man. Don’t say shit like that.”

“Oh, come on,” Tommy presses. “You have eyes, man. You’ve seen her. All I’m sayin’ is that she got hot.” Tommy eyes his brother, trying to get some kind of reaction from him.

All Joel can do is scowl as his grip gradually tightens on the steering wheel. He and Tommy talked about girls all the time when it was just the two of them. But talking about Lianne like this just felt different to Joel. And what he hated the most, but would never admit, is that his brother was right.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” Lianne says as she enters her apartment. Moving boxes still unopened are stacked in piles. Only a mattress with a pillow in the middle of the floor is on display, along with a green velvet couch alongside the wall. “I’ve really only been in town for a week, and I’ve been working a lot, so…” Lianne continues to explain as the Miller’s enter her apartment.

The three of them say their own “don’t-worry-about-its” as they enter the tiny apartment.

“Has your dad been helping you move in?” Joel asks as he examines the counters in the kitchenette area, running his hands over them.

“No,” Lianne draws out. “I haven’t told him I’m back yet, so it’s just been me and my boxes.”

Sarah takes immediate action, saying they’ll help her start unpacking right away. As much as Lianne protests, the Miller’s decision outweighs her own as they all begin digging through boxes. The girls take over the boxes full of clothes, while Tommy and Joel begin unpacking and assembling the little furniture that Lianne has. Soon, the kitchen cupboards are full of plates and bowls, and drawers are filled with silverware and miscellaneous supplies.

“Thank you guys so much for helping,” Lianne says, placing her hands on her hips, feeling accomplished with the hard work they put in. “There has to be some way I can repay you.”

“Mmm, you can’t,” Sarah says with a mischievous smile. “We won’t let you.”

Lianne places her hands on the young girls shoulders and begins pushing her towards the door. “It’s been so great seeing you all again,” Lianne says before she sighs. “You really have no idea… “

The three guests make their way out into the hall, but not before Lianne eagerly tells Sarah to give her a call whenever she wanted to get together.

Over the weeks, Joel had been in and out of her apartment. Making sure the counters were level, fixing a leaky faucet, even retiling her bathroom floor. He heard her complain about the humidity one day, and he was over there that night checking her air conditioning unit to make sure it was satisfactory.

Lianne turned down the volume of the radio as her car approached the Miller’s home, only for Sarah to immediately reach over from her position in the passenger seat to turn the volume up even louder, beaming a smile to Lianne. Sarah’s friends in the back of the car sang their hearts out as Lianne finally parked on the street in front of the house. The evening sun radiated its way into the car, bouncing off of Sarah’s curly hair.

It was surprising to Lianne that Sarah had kept the tape that Lianne’s group of friends from high school made in their shitty little garage band. Sarah loved it and had almost worn the tape out completely. What had Lianne almost in tears was that as soon as the tape began playing in the car, all of Sarah’s friends knew all of the words, too.

The group of young teenage girls giggled and smiled their way out of Lianne’s sedan as they grabbed their shopping bags. Lianne smiled and waved to Sarah as she got out, but Sarah peered back in through the open window.

“You should come in!” Sarah invites with a bright smile. “Dad will want to say hi!”

Agreeing to come in for a few minutes, Lianne follows the group of babbling girls into the house. The aroma of sizzling ground beef and frying peppers instantly hits her.

Sarah has made her way to her father, kissing him on the cheek and saying hello as he works over the stove. Sarah says something to him, and his head turns in Lianne’s direction, his dark eyes taking her in and a smile forming on his lips.

“Hey, look who’s here!” He says. Sarah turns and leaves her fathers side, making her way upstairs to join her friends, but not before she waves to Lianne. “Have a seat,” Joel continues. “I was just finishin’ up dinner.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to be a bother,” Lianne says, waving her hand in excusal. “I just wanted to pop in and say hi.”

“I’ve made plenty,” Joel persists. “I got a house full of girls to feed.”

“And you want one more to stick around?” Lianne teases.

“Eh, what’s one more,” he says with a smile as he pears over to her. “Besides, I’d like the company.”

Accepting Joel’s gracious offer, Lianne sits at the small table and Joel urgently brings a neatly plated dish to her.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he says with a smile as he returns to fix his own plate.

“Starving,” Lianne states. She relishes in the first bite, eyes closing as a hum leaves her mouth. Joel hears it and lets it ring through his ears as he brings his own plate to sit across from her at the table, and the slightest tingle shoots up his spine.

“How is it?” Joel asks her before even thinking about taking a bite of his own.

With her eyes still closed in satisfaction, she replies with, “So fucking good,” around a mouthful of food. Joel only chuckles, but can’t stop the thought of her saying those words as he… He tries not to relish in the thought, pushing it as far from his mind as he can.

“Sarah ain’t botherin’ you too much, is she?” Joel asks her, trying to keep his mind in the present. “You two spend a lot of time together. I’m sure you’d wanna spend your time hanging out with other people your own age.”

“Oh, God, no,” Lianne responds. “It’s nice having her to hangout with. Reminds me of simpler times.”

Lianne’s response stirs something in Joel, pulling at his chest. From the conversations they’ve had about her living in Manhattan and going to college, he knows there’s an unsolvable pain lingering in her. How she lights up about talking about being Sarah’s babysitter in high school and being in a band, and how she seems to almost disappear as she talks about college. He wants to beg her to let him in, to share that pain with him, let him take on some of it as his own.

“So things with your dad are…” Joel says instead.

Lianne let’s out a soft snort as she replies. “Questionable to say the least.”

“How so?”

“Well, I mean, you know, I grew up. The whole cliche college thing, being independent and finding myself. I separated myself from the church and he obviously did not take that well,” Lianne begins to explain. “After that he hasn’t reached out to me. And I guess I didn’t want to reach out to him either. But he called me after, in September… And I finally let him know I was back in Austin. He’s wanting me to come back to the church, but I just can not go back there.”

“So you’re not going to church at all?” Joel asks, surprised.

“I wasn't in New York. But as happy as I am to be back in Austin, it’s been kind of tough. I started going to a new place a couple weeks ago. Just for some peace of mind I guess.”

“You just go by yourself?”

“Yep, just me,” she sighs. “There’s a sermon tomorrow morning at 8:15 if y’all would ever wanna join. But I totally get if that’s not your thing.”

“No, I’d love to,” Joel responds eagerly. “Me and Sarah. We’d love to.”

Lianne beams at him, and the two finish their meals in small conversations. By the end, Lianne has to excuse herself. Although she’s hesitant in doing so, she’s excited to spend the rest of the night with her friends. After helping Joel with the dishes, he follows behind her and walks her to her car at the end of the driveway.

“Y’all do too much for me,” Lianne says with a smile as the two of them reach her car. “I really need to start repaying you guys.”

“We like doin’ it,” Joel responds, a fond smile appearing on his face. “If you need anything, just call me.”

Lianne’s car engine comes to life and she’s immediately rolling down her windows. Joel stands and watches in the driveway, his hands in his pockets.

“You’ll be able to go to church in the morning after being out all night?” He calls out to her.

“Yeah, don’t you know?” She says as she flashes Joel a smile. “I’m basically a pro at this.”

The downtown bar was absolutely packed. Lianne had fallen into step behind her three friends as they made their way through like a pack of sardines. Phoebe, the one leading the group, had begun b-lining straight towards the bar with Julien, the petite dark haired girl behind her, as soon as they stepped foot in the place. Lianne had grabbed Lucy’s arm, the friend right in front of her, and told her she was going to find a high table for the four of them to occupy.

Settling in on one of the stools, Lianne scans her eyes throughout the place, a content smile slightly forming on her lips as her eyes land on her friends. Her view is blocked gradually as a tall, light-haired man approaches the table with a friendly smile.

Phoebe was the one that always assumed the worst in a situation like this, but Lianne just reciprocated the smile.

“You here all alone and you ain’t even drinkin’?” The man says as he finally reaches the table.

Lianne shakes her head with a smile. “I ain’t alone,” she points to her friends who are finally making their way over to her from the bar.

“Well, what’s your poison?” The man says to Lianne. “Lemme get you a drink.”

“She’s driving,” Lucy says as she takes her place next to Lianne. “But you can get us drinks.”

The man smiles at Lucy, and turns to wave over a few of his friends. They kept their word and bought the next round of drinks for the girls, and then the next round, and then the next. At some point during the night, Phoebe and Julien had gotten up to do karaoke with a few of the guys. Phoebe and Julien, ever the life of the party, continued to be swayed with drink after drink from the man and his friends, becoming completely obliterated.

“Okay, okay!” Lucy shouts to get everyone’s attention. “The girls and I were having a writing session today and we want y’alls input. We were talkin’ about times where we thought ‘Oh, shit, we’re all gonna die.’” Lucy and the girls let out a few drunken giggles. “I wanna hear your ‘We’re all gonna die’ moments and feel inspired by your stories.”

Lianne nearly froze on the spot, her blood running cold and her stomach turning.

The guys begin talking immediately, stories about getting caught and running from the cops, riding broncos and nearly getting trampled to death.

Turning expectantly to Lianne, the light hair man questions her. “What about you, sweetheart?”

Julien groans from her spot next to Lianne, gagging exaggeratingly and the pet name. Lianne just laughs and falls into her friend’s side.

“I mean,” Lianne starts as she wraps her fingers around her cup of water. “The whole thing in New York. I thought the world was ending that day-“

“What, you mean the towers?” One of the guys asks, his words slightly slurring together. “We were all scared that day. That’s a universal experience.”

Before Lianne can reply, Phoebe is at her service.

“She was there, you asshole,” Phoebe snaps. All of the men’s eyes are on Lianne now. Her cheeks heat up and she wants to disappear, but Julien gently leans her head on her shoulder, keeping her steady in the moment.

“Oh, shit,” the light haired man says. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine now,” Lianne nods. “Looking back at it and knowing what happened, it’s kind of silly to think we were all going to die.”

A moment passes, stabbing Lianne in the gut.

“But,” she continues, changing the subject. “I used to have these dreams as a kid. They were always the same. Just a lot of fighting, blood, screaming. Mostly just men tearing each other a part. I had no idea where I was or what they were fighting about, but I knew I was fighting with them. Or against them. I just remember having the feeling that we were all going to die… and then I would wake up.”

There’s a brief moment of stillness amongst the group, when one of the men slowly let’s out, “Damn, that’s crazy.”

“You know, I might like you less now that y’all know me so well,” Lianne just let’s out a chuckle and clutches her drink. The conversations move else where, and Lianne spends the rest of the night mothering her drunken friends.

“What else is there to do ‘round here?” The light-haired man has to shout to Lianne over the noise of the bar, leaning in closer to her. “Me and the boys are ranchers out in the Hill Country, so we don’t come into the city too often.”

“Well,” Lianne starts. “What is it y’all like to do?”

Before she can get an answer from him, Julien has pushed up to her other side, breath reeking of alcohol and her eyes bloodshot. Lianne turns to her friend and a wave of worry washes over her at the morbid state of her friend.

“I threw up,” Julien says, trying to keep her eyes focused on Lianne. “Outside.”

Lianne runs her hand over her friend's long dark hair and turns back to the man.

“I think that means it’s time to go,” she says with a friendly smile. Before the man can say anything to try to get her to stay longer, she’s scooping an arm around Julien’s back and making her way to Lucy and Phoebe. Phoebe is in as equally bad shape as Julien, but as soon as the four of them are met back together as a group, Phoebe and Julien fall into a conversation of blissful laughter.

“Do y’all need a ride?” The tall man calls after her. “Or let me help y’all get to your car, at least.”

Lianne waves him off, insisting that she has everything under control as Julien drunkenly clings to her.

It would have seemed a nearly impossible feat to get all the girls to Lianne’s car, but after what felt like a full marathon they finally reached Lianne’s car. Helping everyone in, situated, and buckled was another near impossible task, like wrangling a gang of monkeys with their arms flailing about. Finally in the driver’s seat, Lianne turns the key to ignite the engine. Only silence is what’s to follow. She tries the key again, more sputtering and no roar of the engine.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Lianne mumbles.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy says from the passenger seat.

“My car must be dead or something, it won’t start.”

“Does this mean we have to get out of the car?” Julien whines, throwing her head back against the headrest.

Unfortunately, Lianne helps the girls out of the car and back onto their feet. Not sure what to do and how to get her friends home, Lianne thinks about the offer that man had made her at the bar about taking them home. She more than considers it, but he’d been driving that night and it could all just be too risky.

Luckily having parked right by a payphone, Lianne dials the only number she has memorized and prays that they answer. After the fourth ring, the person on the other line picks up, taking a moment before speaking into the phone.

“Hello?” Answers a groggy voice, deep and raspy from sleep.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, Joel, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Lianne whispers in a rush.

“‘S all right,” Joel replies, his voice more urgent and awake now. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, everyone’s good. We were just leaving the bar but my car won’t start. I wouldn’t have called but I assumed Tommy would also be out drinking tonight, and you’re kinda the only other person I know in town.”

“Which bar are you at?”

Lianne tells him the bar, and he immediately tells her he’s on his way. Trying to rangle in the drunk group of girls, Lianne assists them all back to the bar. Stumbling and cackling the entire way, Lianne tries to direct her friends closer to the building in hopes of a bench for at least the inebriated girls can sit still without the possibility of falling over and getting hurt.

Lucy being the least drunk of them all, besides Lianne, is almost carrying Julien as they all near the entrance of the bar. Lucky enough, there is a bench out front. Annoyance sneaks it’s way into Lianne as she realizes the occupants of said bench are the same guys from earlier who had brought them all drinks. As the girls get closer, the broader of the men nudges his friend next to him and nods in the girls direction. The two on the bench get up and gesture to it, allowing Lianne to quite literally dump a drunk Phoebe onto the bench. Julien and Lucy fumble their way onto the bench as well, the three girls leaning into each other as their laughter is uncontrollable.

Lianne waves a thanks to the men who offered their seats, and they take that as a sign to initiate conversation. Zoning in and out of conversation, Lianne leaves it to her girlfriends to entertain the guys with their drunken chatter. After a while, the group is suddenly flooded in a white light of headlights as Joel pulls up to the bar. He steps out of the truck with a sense of urgency, but upon seeing Lianne’s smiling face, his shoulders relax and his once unknowingly clenched jaw drops lightly. Pulling the girls away from the guys, Lianne helps them up into Joel’s truck in a hastily manner, exhausted and just wanting to lay down.

“They give you much trouble?” Joel asks as he starts the truck back up. He looks over to Lianne as she puts her seatbelt on, watching her arms move across her body.

“These three?” Lianne asks with a laugh. “Nah, they ain’t too bad.”

She turns to see Joel has his mouth open as if to say something else, but no words come out. His eyes shift briefly to the group of men still standing outside the bar, just for a second. Lianne follows his gaze.

“Oh, them?” Lianne says in realization. “They ain’t too bad either. Bought the girls a couple of drinks and talked to us for a while. So much for a girls night.”

This made Joel laugh. Satisfied with Lianne’s answer, he puts the truck in reverse and reaches his hand to settle on Lianne’s headrest as he turns around in his seat. The proximity of his hand so close to her is enough to intoxicate her.

After a few moments of silence on the drive, Joel finally asks, “Where am I taking you to?”

“Everyone’s just staying at my place,” Lianne replies. “So you can just take us there. Thanks again for picking us up.”

The three girls in the back are still lost in delirious conversation, Lucy barely hanging on to consciousness as she attempts to keep up with Phoebe and Julien’s intensity.

“Y’all have fun tonight?” Joel says with a smile as he looks at the three in the back through his rear-view mirror. He’s answered by all three of the girls at once, each trying to talk over each other as their hands move in dramatic storytelling. Joel’s smile widens as he looks at Lianne, who closes her tired eyes in a soft laugh.

Eventually parking in front of Lianne’s apartment complex, Joel gets out of the truck and begins helping the girls out, careful not to let them fall from the truck. Lianne has Julien’s arm draped over her shoulder as she helps her to up the stairs to the front of the complex.

“Do you need help gettin’ them up there?” Joel asks.

As Lianne insists that she’s got it under control, Phoebe leaves her spot from Lucy’s side and latches herself onto Julien, almost knocking the trio over. Lianne let’s out a loud laugh with Julien, and Joel can’t help but lean against his truck and smile.

“Thank you so much again, for everything!” Lianne calls over her shoulder as she approaches the front door of the building.

Joel just waves. He can’t help but chuckle as he watches the four try to meander their way up the steps and into the building. It isn’t until he sees the door close behind him that he hops back in the truck and drives away.

Lianne has thrown Phoebe and Julien onto the mattress, which now thankfully has a bed frame thanks to Joel.

“Lianne,” Phoebe starts. “That man is hot.”

“That man is old,” Julien says, her lips curling up in partial disgust.

“That’s, like, the perfect combo,” Phoebe responds. “Plus he obviously wants to hook up with you. Who the hell wakes up at three in the morning to pick up a bunch of drunk girls?”

“Don’t put that in my head,” Lianne groans as she tucks blankets around Phoebe. “Joel’s a gentleman.”

“Yeah,” Phoebe mumbles as drowsiness consumes her. “A hot gentleman.”

“An old gentleman,” Julien pipes up from her spot next to Phoebe.

“Y’all just shut up and leave Lianne alone,” Lucy says from her spot on the couch. “Just be grateful we aren’t still sitting stranded at that bar.”

Lianne can’t help but think about how quick Joel was to come to her and her friends aid that night. She even found herself questioning if he was worried or not when he had found them there at the bar. She thinks again of how his hand was so close to her in the truck, how his hands gripped the steering wheel, how the crinkle of his eyes melted her to the bone. How she often catches his deep brown eyes peering up at her from behind his lashes, and how those same eyes could look while he…

A pit of fire lights in her gut and a shiver runs down her spine. Tossing and turning and being surrounded by bodies built an irritating frustration in her. Finally getting up, and knowing damn well she had to be up early for church - with Joel - she found herself in her kitchen and losing herself to a bottle of whiskey. The whiskey that Joel had gotten for her as a housewarming gift.

Picturing Joel in his Sunday best for tomorrow’s sermon made Lianne want to rip her hair out. It was the one thing that was completely out of character for Joel, but it was still so domestic, and that’s what was driving her crazy. He was going tomorrow because she had asked him to.

And he hadn’t hesitated on saying yes.

The sunlight burning her eyes, even though they’re shut, wakes Lianne from a terrible sleep as she lets out a long groan. Slowly, she lifts her head from the table, not daring to open her eyes in the bright sunlight. Rubbing at the back of her neck, she looks at the oven to check the time.

“Shit,” she mutters as she jumps up, pounding in her head bringing her back down to her seat. She forces herself to get up and heads to her small bathroom, quietly hurrying around her knocked out friends. She roughly pulls the brush through her hair and rinses her mouth with mouthwash, the sharp minty flavor making her gag over the sink.

Sneaking back into the main room, she pulls a blue velvet wrap-around dress out of her closet and quickly ties it around her. From the coat hanger, she slips into a burgundy blazer which also happens to be velvet. Too worried about the time to bother with the conundrum of wearing two items with the same fabric, she quickly slips on a pair of flats and pulls her long hair out from her blazer.

“Velvet on velvet,” she hears Lucy say from the couch. “That’s hot.”

“Shut up,” Lianne teases. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to church.”

Not needing to be told twice, Lucy salutes to Lianne and rolls back into a peaceful sleep. Envious, Lianne grabs her bag and glasses and heads down to the street below. It isn’t until she’s outside, head pounding and sunglasses barely doing their job at blocking out the sun, that she remembers last night. Her fucking car is still at the bar.

“Shit,” she says again, more urgently this time. Running a hand through her hair, she begins to run to the bus stop at the end of the street. Fighting back the need to expel the liquor from her gut, she waves down the bus just in time. Out of breath and trying to hold herself together, she leans against the metal pole in the bus aisle, the coolness helping relieve her nausea as she leans her forehead against it.

“You look like crap,” Sarah says as she examines Lianne. Having gotten off the bus and hiking her way to the church, the wind had Lianne’s hair ran through by the time she got there. Dehydrated and sweaty, she was barely making it up the steps to the church.

“Hey, now,” Lianne huffs out as she reaches Sarah and Joel. “I crossed mountains and oceans to be with you here today.”

She hears Joel let out a chuckle, which finally allows her eyes to drag over to him. Just like she suspected, his Sunday best. A soft white button down tucked into a pair of dark jeans, covered by a black suit jacket.

“Oh, Joel,” she almost hums. “You even went through the effort of doing your hair. And I look like this.”

He lets out a loud chuckle as his cheeks turn red from the compliment. “Come on, you look real nice, Lianne.” He says it with a sarcastic smile, but still can’t help the heat that rises to his cheeks.

“Whatever,” Lianne sighs, making her way between the pair. “I need to sit down.”

Making their way into the church and grabbing a seat, Lianne can’t help but to feel that little bit of longing pulling at her heart. Being surrounded by a room full of faces that she doesn’t know, yet still expecting to see her father up at the front of the aisle. The thought is dizzying, but she grounds herself in the seat next to Sarah and pushes away the longing before it turns into pain.

Throughout the service, hymns are sung, and the constant up and down has Lianne almost bent over, gripping her knees as she pushes herself to stand. The swirling pit of her stomach making her want to heave each time she stands.

Singing along with the hymnal choir, Joel doesn’t utter a sound, purely focused on hearing Lianne sing next to his daughter. He becomes so intent on her voice that it almost becomes the only noise he can hear. Lianne tries not to notice his intense stare, but nevertheless his gaze causes her cheeks to flush.

At one point during the service, Lianne looks to Sarah to whisper something to her, but the poor girl has leant her head against her father’s shoulder and dozed off. She looks up to Joel, a warmness in her eyes. He just gives an apologetic shrug, but his eyes soften as he looks at his sleeping daughter. A bubble begins to grow in Lianne’s chest as she watches how Joel looks at Sarah, a kind of bubble that she is still unsure of.

Sarah had called earlier that day. A few weeks ago she had given Lianne a coupon to their favorite restaurant in hopes they could go together. Sarah was able to catch Lianne on the phone during her lunch break to set up a time for the two of them to go get dinner tonight. And that’s where Lianne was headed right now.

Stepping off the bus, Lianne made her way through the warm summer air and felt grateful to be back in Austin. The summers in New York were nice, but the wind in the city was the death of her. The still warm air of the western night clung to her skin and carried her to the Miller’s house. Reaching the door she let a rhythmic knock make it’s way through the door. In the stillness that followed, she hesitated to knock again. As she decided to try to ring the doorbell, the door was pulled open by a freshly-dressed Joel, wet hair combed back. The fresh scent of his shampoo wafting over Lianne, almost making her dizzy.

“Oh, hey,” his eyes warmed into a smile. “What’re you doing here?”

Lianne’s eyes sparkled as she smiled in response. “Sarah called earlier. Her and I were going to get dinner at that restaurant we like near the city. I told her I’d come pick her up after work so we could go together.”

Joel’s brows knit together as he looks over his shoulder back into the house. “Sarah ain’t home tonight,” he says, turning back to Lianne. “She’s at a friend’s house for the night.”

“Oh!” Lianne starts to rummage through her bag and pulls out a slip of paper. “Well, she gave me this coupon that’s only good for a while and she suggested we go tonight.”

Joel lets out a low chuckle and rubs at the back of his neck. “Of course, she did,” he mumbles.

Lianne pauses for a minute and chews at her lip before sending a squint towards Joel. “Well, what are you doing tonight? I still have this coupon, and I’d hate for it to go to waste.” She smiles as she flicks the coupon through the air. “Come on! My car’s in the shop, so if you fly, I’ll buy.”

“Sure, why not,” Joel shrugs with a smile. He has to stop himself from immediately walking out the door with her, trying to take his time getting his keys and locking up.

At first walking side by side to Joel’s truck, he beats her to it and opens the passenger door for her, even offering his hand to help her step up into it. This most simple and kind gesture has butterflies stirring in Lianne’s stomach that she tries not to let spill out.

The ride to the restaurant was relatively quiet, Joel’s radio of old country music softly filling the air. At the restaurant, the conversations consisted mostly of their days at work. Joel had been finishing the decking on a new house in an up and coming subdivision. Lianne had been working on a custom chainwork piece for a client of the shop.

They exchanged their own stories of the scars on their hands, either getting bashed by a hammer or burnt with a torch. Reminiscing on younger days with Sarah, and how she was still a die hard fan of Luanne’s old high school band with the girls. It was even decided between Lianne and Joel that the band of girls would play together again at Sarah’s next birthday party.

Having had enough of the dim atmosphere of the restaurant on such a beautiful day, Lianne had convinced Joel to stop at the ice cream shop next door for dessert. But it was Joel who suggested they sit on a bench outside at the nearby park to eat their dessert as they watched the sunset. And that’s where Lianne found herself now, spooning out her ice cream and soaking up the golden sun.

“It’s been real nice having you back here,” Joel finally says. It’s a thought that he’s been keeping to himself over the weeks Lianne has been spending with him and Sarah. For a moment he felt selfish that Sarah was absent tonight, and that he got to spend this night just him and Lianne. Keeping it subtle, Joel continues. “Sarah’s missed you quite a bit.”

Lianne smiles as she scoops out another spoonful of ice cream. “It was a really hard decision to come back home,” she starts. “But now the more I’m here the more I feel like I made the right decision.”

Joel gives her a knowing look. His gaze never leaves her, and her skin prickles with the intensity of his stare. She finally turns to meet his gaze to see his eyes squinting in curiosity.

“Go ahead,” she lets out. “Ask away, I’m an open book.”

“Why did you really decide to come back home?”

She turns away from Joel, squinting into the sun as it starts to set. “I had been living with my boyfriend - my ex, now - and some friends in the city when the planes hit. I lost a few people that I knew that day, and my ex lost his brother and things between us started to get really bad. After September I started to really go downhill. My grades got worse, I could barely leave my apartment. I couldn’t really eat or sleep. By the end of October I just couldn’t do it anymore. I just wanted some normalcy.” She glances down at her ice cream before looking to Joel to say, “And I feel really normal with you and Sarah.”

Joel’s fingers twitch with the want to run his hands through her hair and hold her. He compromises by laying his hand and the bottom of her neck. Her skin can’t help but burst into red flame at the contact of his rough hand.

“Well, like I said,” Joel says after clearing his throat. “It’s been real good having you back around.”

Lianne smiles back in response, happiness blossoming in her chest. She scoots closer to Joel and rests her head on his shoulder. The happiness in her chest spreads to Joel, blossoming just as much as he rests his head on hers.

The post-dessert drive is spent in a relaxed quiet, the hum of the radio consistent under brief small talk. Not quite ready to say goodbye to her and return to the silence of his home, Joel had offered to fix them a few drinks back at his place, which Lianne of course accepted. Apparently he can make a killer Olde Fashioned.

Having been sipping on her drink that Joel had made her, she sets the half full glass down on the coffee table that sits in front of the couch. Joel sure knows how to make a strong drink, the liquor causing a warm buzz to flow through Lianne. Leaning back into her spot on the couch, Lianne suddenly realizes just how close the two of them are together on the couch.

He’s just a reach away, and she finds herself only half listening to what he’s briefly saying. His elbow is perched on the back of the couch and he rests his head against his closed hand. Lianne could get lost in his deep and dark eyes, and she finds her gaze fighting to stay on his eyes and not become distracted with the movement of his mouth.

Letting what little liquid courage she consumed take control for a moment, Lianne swiftly moves forward to gently press her lips to Joel’s. He becomes rigid, frozen by the gesture and it has Lianne pulling away quickly, a hand raising to her mouth.

“I- I am so sorry,” Lianne says in a hushed tone, dread rising from her stomach which pushes her to rise to her feet. Panic begins to spark in her, moving her feet forwards and away from the couch.

She doesn’t feel Joel move from his position on the couch to immediately tail after her, catching her arm when he gets closer. Turning her towards him, she lifts her gaze to meet his, his brows slightly knitted together as he stares intently into her. His hands slowly come up and rest on either side of her neck, and he’s still just staring at her, and it’s killing her. She wants him to say, “Hey, it’s okay. Happens more than you think.” Or, “I appreciate it, but there’s no way in hell.” She just wants him to say something, to say anything so that she can be free of his grasp. Slowly, he pulls her into him and encapsulates her lips with his own. Soft, sweet, but underneath it all, full of need and hope. Only after a moment does he pull away to look at her, his eyes drifting to her lips, needing them again.

“There was no way in Hell I was going to make the first move with you,” he whispers as he lets out a small chuckle.

Before he can say anything else, Lianne is grabbing his shirt and pushing her lips back to his. His hands make their way to tangle in her hair, pulling her even closer into him. The push and pull of their bodies becomes dance-like, slowly moving towards the stairs with Lianne’s full intent to get Joel up them.

Joel isn’t just nice. He’s not just a gentleman. He is a man who is able to say no. And he isn’t saying no right now.

“I want to take this slow with you,” he whispers as he holds her face in his hands. His eyes roam her face, trying to take in every little detail and figure out what she’s thinking. She’s looking at him with hooded eyes, and he swears his heart stops in his chest.

“I think we’ve taken it slow enough, Joel,” is all she has to say before he’s crashing his lips back onto hers. His name falling softly from her lips makes him weak in his legs, his arms, anywhere that once stood strong melted by a single breath.

The two of them had managed their way to dance their bodies through the living room, up the stairs, and into Joel’s bedroom. He tried apologizing for the mess, but Lianne had fervently replaced his words with her lips as she moved her hands to feel him.

It might have just been the drink Joel had fixed her, but she felt drunk in the presence of him alone. A wave of confidence came over her, flaring a sense of urgency within her. She needed him to see her. She needed to show him how good she could be for him, how soft and ready she was for him. Reaching out, she brought his hands to the bottom of her shirt. She looked back up to see his soft gaze on hers, a look of almost uncertainty in his eyes. Lianne nodded to him, encouraging him that she wanted him to undress her. Slowly, he lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head. As soon as he went to toss it to the floor, Lianne was unbuttoning her pants and discarding them to the side. Standing, she was again met with Joel’s soft gaze, his mouth softly ajar and his dark eyes furrowing in anticipation. His breathing had hitched, unnoticeably, for just a moment as his heartbeat grew louder. Slowly, Lianne reached behind her to unclasp her bra, her fingers gingerly pulling the straps down her shoulder and tossing her bra onto the floor.

“Jesus,” Joel sighed, his jaw becoming slack and his eyes becoming soft. He gently reached out to graze his fingers over her collarbone, slowly dragging his hand down her side to rest on her hip. “You… you are going to be the death of me.”

Lianne smiles, trying to hide the blush that rises in her cheeks. Joel silently began to work on undoing the buttons of his shirt. Lianne finally reached to him and helped him tug it off, letting her eyes trail over his exposed skin. With no fabric to cover him, the quick rise and fall of his chest only became more apparent to Lianne as she observed him.

Lianne gently set her hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart race under the warm skin, and she smiled. She watched as Joel’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her hand around his neck to pull him closer to her. His rapid breaths fanned against her face, making her stomach drop in anticipation. She slowly leaned forward to drag her lips across the skin of his neck. The scent of his cologne still lingered on his skin, and Lianne inhaled deeply, wanting to drink all of him in. She finally began to press soft kisses along his jaw, trailing them lower to the pulse point in his neck.

One of Joel’s hands landed heavily on her waist and he wasted no time rubbing encouraging circles over her hip with his rough thumb. She hummed against his skin, pressing her chest against his. Trying as best she could to keep her hand steady, she trailed her fingers down his chest, slowly finding her way to the buckle of his belt. Joel shivered lightly, the grip on her waist becoming tighter. She slowly began to undo the buckle, watching his eyes for any sign that he wanted her to stop. His eyes remained focused on her working hands, until he finally pulled them up to meet her eyes, his mouth parted in an attempt to keep his breathing steady. Seeing the expression on his face, Lianne gave him a small smile before finally unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down. She pressed through her hesitancy, and unknowingly held her breath as she rested her hand over his pants. Joel’s breath hitched and his hand slid around her back to hold her tighter to his chest. With her face now hidden in his neck, Lianne couldn’t see his reaction, but took the firm pressure of his hand on her back as a sign to continue. She palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm, planting sweet kisses onto his neck and shoulder.

Wanting more, Lianne pulled away and let her hand fall away from him. Before she could begin to sink to her knees, Joel pulled her close to him again, hands cupping her face as he hungrily pressed his lips to hers. In swift movements, he had her spun around and on her back on his bed, hovering over her as they both moved their way to the top of the bed. Joel settled between her legs, placing his palm on her stomach to trace up to her chest. Lianne’s heart pounded heavily in her chest, and she was aching for him, almost begging him with her eyes to just do something. To do anything.

Joel was suddenly on her, fingers tracing over her nipples and palming her breasts before connecting his lips to her skin. Lianne let out a heavy sigh, running her hand over Joel’s shoulder to the skin on his back to hold him closer to her. His teeth began to graze her sensitive skin, causing her back to arch up off the bed and press into him. Continuing his movements, he shifted his intentions to her other breast, closing his eyes as he wet her skin with his mouth. His free hand began drifting down her stomach as she moved beneath him, his fingers tickling over her skin. Finally reaching her underwear, he cupped her through the fabric. Uncontrollably, her hips stuttered upward to press further into his hand, and he groaned into her chest.

He murmured sweet phrases into her skin, unbeknownst to Lianne as her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears. Continuing to trail kisses across her chest, Joel pulled the fabric of her underwear to the side, finally touching her with no barrier. He groaned as he dipped a finger between her warm folds, gliding it up and down along her core. Swirling the tip of his finger around her, Lianne let out a stifled whimper as her hips began to grind desperately against his hand.

Bringing his face up to rest beside hers, Joel kissed her tenderly on her temple before murmuring into her ear, “I want to taste you.”

Lianne didn’t say anything, silenced by the feeling of his fingers against her until he pushed for a response by whispering her name in her ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

“Anything,” she replied breathlessly. “Please. Do whatever you want to me.”

“You sure about that?” he murmured, only getting a nod in response. He let out a soft chuckle before saying, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Joel spread her legs apart, fingers digging into her skin as he held her thighs against the bed. Joel let out a deep moan that echoed through the room as he took in the sight of her before him. To Lianne, his movements were a slow torture as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses onto her hips, moving to the inside of her thighs, until his hot breaths were finally fanning across her core.

The moment his tongue was on her, fire raced through her veins and she knew there was no going back after this. A sigh of relief slipped from her lips, and her head tilted back as he licked a long stripe up the entire length of her. A muffled but raspy groan vibrated against her as Joel pressed messy kisses against her. Finally gaining enough willpower, Lianne looked down and gasped at the sight of Joel’s eyes already on her, watching her reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he mumbled against her, causing her to twitch at the feeling of his lips brushing against her clit. He continued his circular motions until she was moaning his name, her thighs tensing against his hold, her muscles screaming to hold him against her.

She whispered his name repeatedly until it didn’t even feel like a word to her, but more of a prayer. His tongue continued to relish in her, until she was begging for him to let her come. Joel moved his hands to grip her hips tightly, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in her body tighten until she was gasping. Lianne had latched her fingers into his hair to pull him impossibly closer as his mouth moved against her.

“Joel,” she groaned, only earning a hum in response as his movements never ended. “Fuck, Joel, I’m-”

He moaned eagerly into her, and that was all she needed to be thrown over the edge and into her orgasm. Her body was on fire, vibrating against him as she trembled against him. Joel’s hands held her hips steady with a deadly grip, never letting go until she began to relax into the mattress.

Still gasping for air, Lianne reached down and pulled Joel to her, melting her lips against his. His growing cock brushed against her thigh, the fabric of his underwear scratching her soft skin. She reached her hand down between them, slipping her fingers into his waistband to feel him. He gasped at her touch, eyes following her hand down to where she touched him. His eyes were deep and dark as they returned to look into her own, causing the fire to ignite once again in the pit of her stomach. She needed him. She needed all of him, now.

With quick movements, Lianne hastily shuffled out of her underwear, Joel following suit and shuffling out of his own. She could see him now, letting out a soft gasp as she took him in her hand again. Lianne moved with the intent to flip onto her stomach, but Joel stopped her by catching her hips with his hands.

“Just like this,” Joel murmurs, kissing along her jaw. “Wanna look at you.” Heat rose to her chest, her heartbeat increasing with his soft words.

Joel’s hand came up to rest against her hair, gently taking a handful of her hair to get lost in. His eyes were pleading to her as he nodded to her, giving her all control over him. Slowly, she brought him to her, sliding his member in between her wet folds. A mumble of curses left Joel’s lips at the sensation, and he rested his forehead on hers to steady himself. She lifted her hips beneath him, her eagerness escaping her as she bit into her lip. Slowly, she began to push the tip of him into her, watching Joel’s face for any sign of hesitancy. She grips her other hand onto his shoulder in anticipation as his fingers tighten their grip in her hair. His eyes met hers, and he could see the fire within them and the flush of her cheeks. Without thinking, he pushes himself fully in her, the two of them gasping at the sensation of their bodies connecting. She pushes her chest up into him, drunk on the sensation of the stretch that he’s created within her.

“Christ,” Joel huffed, letting them both get adjusted to the feeling of their bodies connected. Lianne wrapped a leg lazily over his waist, urging him to continue, while Joel equally as lazy ran his free hand down her side to palm at her flesh. Slowly, he pulled back from her before pressing back into her, catching her gasp with his lips. Her hand moving to his hair was the silent confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of her before moving into her only slightly harder, beginning a tender and steady pace.

His hand that was tangled in her hair moved down to grip the base of her skull, his thumb resting on her jaw as he rocked his hips into her. He whispered gentle praises into her skin, making her skin burn. Still sensitive from her previous orgasm, liquid heat spread through her abdomen and curled in her veins, turning her entire body into a mess beneath Joel. He took his time with her, pressing kisses anywhere he had access to, his pace only picking up slightly. He finally stretched a hand down to where the two of them connected, rubbing needy circles into her clit. The sudden motion had her tightening around him, causing small grunts to leave his chest.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured as he watched where he slipped in and out of her. “Takin’ it so well.”

Small curses left her mouth and she gripped his arm tightly as she felt herself nearing her end. She was overwhelmed with his essence, feeling him everywhere so perfectly connected with her. His fingers on her clit pressed harder, causing her head to spin before the coil in her stomach snapped. All air left her body, her back arching off the bed and further into Joel, his name barely a whisper falling from her lips. Her orgasm rocked through her body to the bone, all feelings fleeting as her vision blurred and her legs went numb. Joel’s pacing stuttered and he had to grip the pillow next to Lianne to keep from ripping into her flesh. After trying to hold out to help her come back from her high, he urgently pulled out and painted her skin with his spend.

Breathless and sweaty, Joel all but fell onto her, resting his head on hers as her hand weakly raked through his dark hair. Joel had tried apologizing for not asking her where he should finish, but she only chuckled at him, the vibrations of her chest radiating into his, causing him to laugh quietly as he nuzzled into her neck and kissed a mark into her throat.

The two laid there trying to catch their breath, completely blissed out to form any sort of thought. Joel had rolled onto his back, pulling Lianne into his side. One hand played gently in her hair, while the other pulled her leg up to his waist to trace delicate patterns into her skin. Lianne’s hand had come up to his chest, reciprocating the act of dancing patterns into his skin. Her movements slowed and her body became heavy while Joel continued to run his hand through her hair as he watched her drift to sleep.

The morning sun slowly began to creep its way into the room, lingering around the blissful state of the night before. The two were still fast asleep, both on their stomachs. Joel had one arm tucked under his pillow, the other outstretched for his hand to rest against Lianne’s back, their legs wrapped over another to keep each other close.

Joel had woken before her, eyes blinking open at the sight of the sleeping woman before him. She was facing away from him, but after last night he felt the freedom to gently run his hand up the bare skin of her back to land in her hair, gently playing with the ends. The motion had softly awoken Lianne, and she stirred gently as she turned against her pillow to face Joel. A beam of light slowly began to inch across her face, and Joel once again found himself breathless.

“Hi,” she said with a smile, barely above a whisper. Joel couldn’t even try to stop the smile that snuck onto his face.

“Hi,” he replied gently, taking the time to brush the hair from her face and behind her ear. He nestled himself closer to her, pressing kisses to her shoulder. Moving her arms from under her pillow, Lianne reaches out to him and pulls him closer to her. Joel gently pushes her to roll onto her back as he hovers over her, leaving kisses along her neck as he begins to nestle between her legs, becoming oblivious to the world and to time.

The phone on the bedside table rang violently, snapping Joel back into reality. He lets out a defeated groan, and Lianne chuckles at him as he begrudgingly pulls himself away from her to reach for the phone. Before he can even say hello, the voice on the other end is talking rapidly.

“Oh shit, Sarah, I’m so sorry,” Joel says, bolting from the bed. “What time is it? I’m on my way right now, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the bed. He moves from the bed and tries to find some clothes before explaining to Lianne. “I forgot she wanted me to pick her up at 8.”

“What time is it right now?” Lianne says, eyes wide and she makes her way to slip her underwear back on.

“Almost 8:30,” Joel replies flatly.

“Shit,” Lianne mutters, shaking out her shirt that was crumpled on the floor. “I gotta work at 9.” After shoving her arms in the sleeves of her shirt, she turns to face Joel. “How do you wanna do this?”

He thinks for a minute, zipping his pants before replying. “I can take you home first if you want, then I’ll go get Sarah.”

“My place is on the other side of the city. You said you’re on your way right now, won’t that take too long?” Lianne questions.

Joel lets out a deep sigh as he looks at her, chewing the skin of his thumb as he thinks.

“Don’t worry, I can just take the bus,” Lianne says assuringly as she slips her pants back on.

“Hell no,” Joel says firmly. “I’m not having a nice lady spend the night and then expect her to take the bus.”

“So you want me to pick up Sarah with you?” Lianne asks, her brows raised in surprise.

Joel only nods silently in response.

“Won’t she ask questions?” Lianne asks.

“She doesn’t have to know anything right now, not if you don’t want her to,” Joel says, making his way to the bedroom door, but stopping to plant a quick kiss to Lianne’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”

Lianne can only nod, grabbing the rest of her things as she follows Joel down the stairs and out to the truck. The ride to get Sarah is silent, not even the radio is on to cover up the rapid beating of Lianne’s heart. She never felt uneasy like this the mornings after, but it felt as if she was doing the walk of shame right to Sarah, which made everything so much worse.

Pulling up in front of the house that Sarah had stayed out, Joel didn’t even bother getting out of the truck, just blaring on his horn. Lianne had moved to unbuckle herself and move to the back, but Joel had stopped her and told her to stay in the front.

She wants to rip her hair out. She wants to bang her head into the dash in front of her. Dread keeps building and building and wants to push its way out of her at the idea of Sarah getting any idea of what happened. Her heart won’t stop pounding in her chest, but looking out the window and seeing Sarah’s sleepy yet smiling face puts her slightly at ease.

As Sarah gets closer to the truck, she finally sees Lianne in the passenger seat. Her face scrunches in confusion, but only for a brief second, before waving to Lianne and crawling into the back of the truck.

“Hey, girl,” Lianne says to Sarah over her shoulder, trying her best to keep her voice steady.

“Hey,” Sarah smiles. “What’re you doing here?”

Lianne catches Joel’s eye for a moment as she turns back around to face the front. Joel puts the truck in drive and begins to drive away.

“Well, you ditched me last night on our date,” Lianne teases. “So I had to take your old man before that coupon expired.”

“Did you spend the night?” Sarah asks.

“I had some drinks last night. Thought it was best to just sleep it off.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, and Lianne found it to be better to tell her just a teeny bit of the truth. Sarah had given her an incredulous side-eye from the back seat, her brow arching in a suspicious look.

Sarah had kept the ride entertaining with her stories from the past night, keeping the ride across the city full of various conversations. Joel had finally pulled up in front of the small jewelry store Lianne worked at, and as soon as she stepped out of the truck Sarah was scrambling to get to the front seat of Joel’s truck.

“Thanks for the ride,” Lianne said with a smile, peering back in through the truck window.

“Anytime,” Joel calls back. “And thanks for dinner!”

Lianne gives a small wave to him as she reaches the door of the shop. “Anytime,” she replies, the small smile never leaving even as she disappears behind the door.

Next to Joel, Sarah lets out a loud huff.

“What?” Joel asks, impatience in his tone.

“It’s like I’m invisible,” his daughter responds dramatically. Joel doesn’t respond, just rolling his eyes as he puts his truck into drive, pulling away from the store and letting the memory of last night with Lianne linger in his mind.

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black-occamy · 1 year ago

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Remadora Microfics, Day 6: Sticky

Written for @remadoramicrofics October prompts, 883 words

Written as part of my Occamy-verse AU, so: everybody lives, everybody lives HAPPILY, there will be insane amount of fluff and cuteness, there will be mentions of polyamory. Disclaimer: I have no idea how children behave, wtf am I even writing…

“Let’s see,” Remus pulled the list and a set of reading glasses from his pocket. “We have books, a cauldron and a set of ingredients…”

“Wand,” Teddy added helpfully, whirling it between his fingers in a trick move that Sirius has been teaching him for the last three weeks.

“Yes, please don’t stab your sister in the eye…”

“I can’t believe the letter still mentions quills and parchments,” Tonks scoffed, looking over his shoulder.

“Changes take time, my love.”

“Can we go eat ice cream now?” Lenore was holding the edge of Dora’s robe, her golden eyes staring at her parents pleadingly. Tonks crouched down next to her, messing the girl’s hair.

“In a little while, my darling Bug. There’s still some shopping we need to do for your big brother.”

Read further under cut or on AO3 🖤

“We’re almost done,” Remus put the list back in his pocket and straightened up looking around for the sign of Madame Malkin’s clothes’ shop. “Robes are the last one on the list and we only need to get the winter coat.”

“In this case, I think ice cream should come first, Rem,” Dora picked her daughter up in her arms. “Unless we want to get the new clothes sticky, right, golden Bug?”

“Ice cream!”

“Sounds like a plan to me!”

Remus exchanged glances with Teddy. It was his day, after all. The boy made a thoughtful face, considering the choices with a solemnity of an eleven-year-old.

“Mum makes a good point,” he finally decided. “I don’t know any cleaning spells yet, and I don’t want a sticky coat.”

“And what about the pet? We won’t have time to go and pick one, Dora.”

All three of them gave him surprised looks. Apparently there has been some discussion happening earlier that he missed.

“I’m taking Pestie to Hogwarts,” Teddy explained. “Auntie and Uncle said it’s okay if I take her with me.”

“Well, if that one is settled too..”

“Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream!” Lenore chanted, tapping an excited rhythm on Dora’s shoulder. Remus gave up with a sigh.

They navigated slowly through the crowd of excited students and slightly less excited parents. Diagon Alley was packed at this time of the year, caught in the annual pre-school-year frenzy. It was fortunate they managed to get around their shopping during the new moon - otherwise the noises and other stimuli of the crowd would have been too much for him.

“Rem, you and the kids find a table and I’ll get the desserts,” Tonks declared, passing Lenore to him. “It’s lemon sherbet for you, chocolate for the Bug and salted caramel for Teddy, right?”

“Chocolate!”

He sat down at the furthest table he could find, one that was nestled cosily under a huge straw umbrella. The shade offered a welcome respite. Lenore huddled against his chest, staring at her brother pointedly. She seemed to be thinking something over.

“Teddy, will you be gone for long?” she asked finally.

“Just a bit, Nora. And I’ll write you letters!”

“Da, can I go with Teddy?” she turned her golden eyes at him. Remus smiled, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“You will go soon, little Bug.”

“Soon means when?”

“In a couple more years.”

Lenore scoffed, “That’s not soon at all!”

“You won’t even notice, with everything that will happen in pre-school,” Teddy offered and for some reason that logic seemed enough for her. “Dad, were you nervous before your first year at Hogwarts?”

Remus fell silent for a moment. Somewhere buried deep in his memories was the day he received his letter and the look on his parents’ faces - fear mixed with that terrible suspicion that it must have been a mistake. He shrugged that image away.

“Extremely so. Are you nervous, Ted?”

The boy regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.

“I don’t know which house I want to be sorted to,” he admitted after a while. “I don’t know if I’m as brave as you or Uncle Sirius. I’m not as caring as Mum or as strong as Auntie Gem. Maybe I could be a Ravenclaw? Am I smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, Dad?”

“You are everything you need to be, I promise you,” Remus reached out, pulling the boy closer in a hug. Lenore squealed, joining in.

“Teddy, you are the best!”

“See, your sister is very right about that. It doesn’t matter which house you’re sorted to. You will make us all proud either way.”

For a few blissful moments he held both of his children, a small part of him trying to figure out how in the world he could be so lucky to have them. He spotted Dora coming in with a handful of ice cones. Her pink hair, long and wavy today, danced around her head like a candy-coloured halo. Remus felt a surge of warmth in his chest, a joy that filled him, head to toes. If he could, he would float in the air.

That is, until Dora happened to trip at this exact moment.

In a split second, the smile froze on her face, her eyes widening. Ice cream soared in the air. Remus stared at it, flying towards him and unsuspecting children, rotating in slow motion.

It was probably a good thing they planned robe shopping after the dessert.

#remadora microfics #remadora #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #fluff and humor #baby lupins #hogwarts #diagon alley #hp fanfic #occamy-verse #Gemma Appleby #the black occamy #occamy writes

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kindheart525 · 11 months ago

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Red Cedar and Rainier sure hit it off at that first rodeo! Rainier’s upbeat attitude was so infectious that it made Cedar a fan of the sport despite her previous disinterest, but most importantly she went to see him more often. He was so fun to be around and could turn even the most sour attitude into sweet summer tea. Just the thought of him made her feel so...warm inside.

She was in love.

Today’s show was a bit different, though. Instead of coming up to greet her afterwards like always, Rainier asked her to go over to the fence to wait for a surprise. It was so unlike him, but he had a twinkle of excitement in his eye as he asked her to go so it must be something good! Then again, everything felt good with him around. What could he possibly have in store?

Cedar’s ears perked up as she heard the familiar gait of her date approaching her.

The rodeo was like a second home to Rainier and his lasso an extension of his arm.

Ever since the day he got his cutie mark he didn't feel confused or upset like other colts, he felt like Gaia herself had put this plan together for him and it fit perfectly. He never thought he'd feel that way about anything again.

That was until he met Red Cedar.

No matter how bad of a day he was having or how stressful practice was or how bad the game was going, seeing her smiling face in the crowd made it all worth it.

That's why, on this day when he got some of the best news of his life, he wanted to make sure she was the first one to hear it.

He practically sprinted towards her, his hooves kicking up dust as he forced them into the ground below to stop himself from falling into her. All the while holding an envelope in his teeth.

"How was your day? Might I say you look more beautiful than a sweet red gala apple on a July morning!"

Cedar giggled, her stomach filling up with butterflies at the compliment.

“Even better now that I get to see you! You did great out there, better than a, uh-“

She struggled to come up with a countryism in return.

“-jackrabbit jumping hurdles! Now what’s the news you’re so eager to share?”

He handed her the envelope and waited for her to finish reading it.

In big bold letters at the top it read-

Partial Term Contract

-and under that was a bunch of legal jargon and sports jargon that Cedar had never heard before. The gist of it was that he was being offered a summer contract to be a part of the biggest rodeo in Equestria.

He would live temporarily in Appaloosa, which wasn't too far, just to see how he'd like it.

Knowing how big this was he was honestly more nervous about her reaction, which was clear from the sweat running down his brow.

"I haven't signed it yet. I didn't want to make such a big decision without my..."

He lowered his head shyly, his cheeks flushing red. Yet he couldn't hide the sweet smile on his face.

"...special somepony."

Cedar blushed as well at his acknowledgment. She couldn’t get over how sweet and considerate he was, always taking her into account in his decisions. He was better than she she could ever ask for.

She read over the contract.

“Oh my gosh, this is such a big opportunity for you! This is what you’ve been dreaming of, isn’t it? You should take it!”

He reached out to gently hold the hoof that didn't have the paper in it, finally showing her his full expression. He looked like a colt who discovered he was getting a puppy on Hearth’s Warming morning.

"It is what I've been dreaming of but its not the only thing-"

He pulled her into a surprise hug by her hoof, not an intimate one but the goofy bear hugs he always gave where he'd press his cheek against hers.

"-it isn't worth leaving my best dream behind for, but if you're okay with it...Well Red Cedar, I'm in love with you. And I think we can make it work."

Even he was a little embarrassed by how emboldened he was, but that's how he felt about her. She made him want to take risks and do crazy things.

Cedar leaned into his hug and grinned. She was ready for whatever adventure he would take her on.

“I love you too Rainier. You can bet I’ll stick with you every step of the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Slow Talkin'

Next: Goo Goo Eyes

Background by SpaceKingofSpace

#KindsArt #auraverse #heart and a hard place #red cedar #rainier #story piece #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4

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trinityiswired · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐭 (18+ MDI)

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

CW: Dacryphillia, Age Gap (Reader: 22, Geto: 34), Overstimulation, Praise kink, Oral Sex.

NSFW under the cut.

"This man works wonders, this is his business card. I swear me and Maki's sex life has been so deliciously hot after a couple sessions with him." Nobara shoves a folded card into your hand reading, Geto Suguru licensed healthcare for your sexual life.

"I really don't need it, I think I just haven't found the right material to get off to." You argue, "(Y/n), you were saying how you weren't able to have a big "O" since god knows when. Even your last one night stand you faked that shit." Grimacing at Nobara's painfully correct statement.

"Alright, alright, I'll check it out after work." Giving into her oh so convincing sessions.

The building was a very deep grey and minimal with dark wooden accents, looks expensive, "Fuck being able to cum, will this place take insurance?" a young woman sat at the receptionist area, clearly on her phone typing away. She looks up clearly a bit bothered to be interrupted, sighing "Name and time of appointment?".

"(Y/n) (L/n), round' uh 6:30?". She tapped a few letters on her keyboard, "Mm, Okay just fill up this paperwork, someone'll call you out shortly." sliding a clipboard into your hands. It wasn't general medical question, more in depth about your sex life in rows of questions. Heat burned at the tips of your ears at some of the questions as if you were taking the BDSM and Rice purity test.

'What is your main reason for your visit?:'

'I can't seem to get off or have an orgasm no matter what I do.'

You were very reluctant to give back the clipboard, but as soon as you did, your name rang out through the waiting room. Another young lady peered at the clipboard before leading you to a dark oak door and with a gold plaque screwed into it, 'Dr. Geto'. She lightly knocked on the door before she opened it.

It was decorated minimally, so many books and even sex toys were riddled on the shelves. The walls were a bullet grey and no windows, the doctor, he was pretty young despite his occupation, let alone his appearance was definitely what you didn't expect. His long raven hair was unkempt with the exception of a man-bun on top, and a piece of hair draped over his forehead.

"Thank you, Ms. Mimiko. Good Afternoon Ms. (Y/n), please have a seat." He nodded the young woman away after she handed him the clipboard, he put on his reading glasses. Occasionally he glanced at me while examining my paperwork. He only thought how much shame that you couldn't get off, such a pretty face too. He wondered if your cunt was too.

"Okay. So Ms. (Y/n), it says here you have an issue with being able to finish." You nod in agreement. "Do you still feel gratification from touching yourself, or feel no pleasure whatsoever."

The questions felt so awkward to be asked by a stranger, "I know it must feel embarrassing to speak on sexual experiences to someone you don't know, but know that this is a judgement free place." He looks up from the paper and gives me a closed eye'd smile. "It's just so hard to feel good, even when I did have intercourse last, I faked my orgasm." You say clearly overwhelmed with pent up frustration. "No one, not even myself. I can't get off. I swear I've tried everything I could." Looking down at your feet feeling hopeless. He doesn't say anything but his dark pupils scan you as if he's thinking of what to say.

"You're young to be going through this, but it's not uncommon at all." He continues, "Have you and a sexual partner started off with foreplay. Y'know, giving oral sex, fingering."

The mere mention of it makes you hot, "N..No. Not really." It makes Geto smirk slightly, pitying at your poor sexual partners' knowledge of pleasure. "Does the thought that of doing that make you feel good." His voice velvety and the question almost sounded sensual. "It does." I admit. "Have you brought up oral sex to your partners?" You only shake your head. He tuts his tongue, sucking air in, your eyes are locked in on his mouth, seeing a small metal ball on his tongue. His eyes narrow, noticing how focused you seemed on his face.

"Ms. (Y/n)?" Your eyes shot up from his mouth, looking at his eyes directly. "Why don't we try an exercise. It'll be all up to your decision and I will not touch you but simply guide you." He rises from his chair, he was not only an attractive man but also towered above you. "Please, lay down and close your eyes." You did as you were told and it took so much from Geto to not praise you with a 'Good girl'.

"I need you to think of that person you have or want to have sexual intercourse with and think of the actions before you have sex." He said deeply, "When they kiss you, where would they kiss you? Your neck..chest...thighs?" He drawls, "Their hands. Would they roam your body, admiring the curves." You tuck you bottom lip between your teeth, an image of Dr. Geto's mouth flashes in your mind. "My..thighs." you whispered feeling weak. He hums as if to ask you to continue. "His hands, they would squeeze me, caressing me in places that tickle." Your eyes were screwed shut, but Geto watched you like prey. His pants growing tighter as he saw your thighs squeeze together the more you think about the questions he asks you. "Tell me what you want." He asks, feeling tempting by your sweet voice and how it falters every time you answer nervously. "I want to be touched, I want him to taste my cunt. I want to be satisfied. I need to feel that piercing on your tongu—" Your eyes snap open, and when you look at Geto, his eyes are just as wide as yours. "I..I am so sorry, I didn't mean to say that I was just." He interrupted you. "Being honest. And that's okay." You look down at his lap, seeing how tight and the shape of his cock was outlined by his pants. His veiny hands quickly covered his obvious hard-on. "Let's continue. This session is about you and your needs." He clears his throat. He wanted so desperately to show you how good it felt to cum, and he wanted to eat every last drop of your pleasure.

You couldn't live with the embarrassment, he was a professional man and you seemed like such a dirty girl to wanting to have your doctor eat you out. So shameless of you to admit it without an argument. "I don't think I can continue. I feel so awful." You rush to pick up your bag. His veiny and gentle hand held your arm firmly, "Don't leave" you look at him, backing away. "What I did was so..I bet you feel disgusted towards me." You say above a whisper. "Course not." His face was close, you could only strain your neck to look up at him. His fingers found themselves under your chin as he backed you against that dark oak door with a light thud. Your breathing bates in excitement, "Is this really okay." He grins a bit, "No. But god, do I really want to make you cum." He almost whimpers out, his lips crash into yours. His fingers gripped your waist tightly, digging into your skin when he hears your sweet moans vibrate into his mouth. "M'gonna treat you so good, angel." He says between kisses. Pushing you onto the same couch, he could see a wet patch on your clothed cunt. "Do you want this?" He asks firmly while you catch your breath. "Yes, yes. Want it so badly." He quickly pulls your pants along with your underwear, your cunt so beautifully glazed with your slick. So wet all from the thought of him touching you. "So soaked already." He breathes out in awe, he wraps his fingers around your thighs to pull you towards his face. You could feel how hot his breath was against your heat, he kissed along your thighs, adoring each reaction as your hips bucked in desperation. "Ts, patience. You've waited this long." He chuckles. You whine, "Please S..Suguru! Need you so bad, want your tongue on me." His eyes darken when you call him by his name, kissing your cunt, licking his lips when its covered with your slick. The small metal ball on his tongue running a chill up your spine.

Your thighs tighten around his head as he laps up at your sweet syrup, god you were so addictive to lick up. "Such a pretty pussy." He moans against your heat, letting his tongue fuck into you. "M'gonna cum. Oh my god I'm gonna cum." You gasp, your fingers grip on his hair, that bun long undone onto his face. He smiles against you, pressing two fingers against your entrance as he kisses your clit adoringly. His fingers scissor as he pushes them till his knuckles stop him fron going any deeper, trying to find that sweet spot inside, your back arches when a scream rips from your throat.

"M'fuck!" A creamy residue decorated his fingers the more his fucks you with them. "Oh? You came. Can you do one more for me?" His pace is relentless, your hand could never compare to how much further his reaches. Hitting that one spot whenever he curls in fingers, he watches your face knitting in pleasure each time he pushes them in. "So beautiful when you cum, so gorgeous. That's a good girl."

You start to feel another wave coming, tears stinging your eyes as pleasure overwhelms. "God your tightening around my fingers so well, it's like your sucking me in, sweetheart." He kisses your neck, sucking love induced bruises onto it.

"Feels s'good Suguru..! Can't take anymore." You plead, but it's the best you've ever felt in so long. "C'mon darling, one more me okay? Wanna feel you cum on my tongue." He cups your cheek, kissing you as if he were your lover. "S'good for me. That's a good girl." He lowers himself back to your pussy, "Fucking addictive." He grunts. His piercing feels cold on your clit when he licks your creamy aftermath off your pussy, you grind against his mouth wantonly making him groan as if he was feeling pleasure from eating you out. He sucked on your cunt for what felt like ages cumming twice, then three times. He wipes his mouth with his thumb, you could only cry in pleasure. "Thank you for being so good for me, angel." Looking satisfied at how dumbed out you were from just his mouth. He tilts your head towards him, giving you another kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips.

He reached for some wipes in his drawer, cleaning the mess between your legs. You laid there trembling with a smile on your face. He lit a candle to rid the room of that lustful delicious smell of your climax. He sits next to you pulling you up so that your head lays on his lap, petting your hair with a smile on his face. His smile wasn't lustful nor had a desire for more but a fondness. You look up at him, "Is it okay if I book another appointment with you."

"Mm. I can do an appointment this Saturday." "Ah, but I thought you were closed on weekends?" He chuckles once again, "Darling, if I'm gonna make you cum again, it's going to be after I take you out for something to eat." with that same closed eye’d smile.

"I'd really love that."

Nobara squeals, "So how was your first session. Best advice right? Swear his opinions on what you need is top tier." Your face heats up at the mention. "M'Yeah. He was really good." Nobara squints her eyes.

"Oi, you have a dark ass hickey. Don't tell me you fucked someone right after your session." You say nothing, leaving Nobara to pester you on missing details.

Trinity note: Hi! so this is my first time posting a oneshot. I'm very excited because I've been writing but have been never confident to post. Please do reblog/comment/like but please don't post anywhere else without my permission! Let me know if I missed anything important.

Currently not taking requests but if you do comment some I may write about it if I love the idea and my creativity and motivation wants to be nice to me.

#fanfic #geto suguru #smut #jjk #jjk smut #sex therapy

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misslycoris · 1 year ago

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"Dearest Amelie,

Did you receive the present I got you? I left it with your aunt to give you once I depart, you've told me many times how much you've wanted that little thing and I never understood why. But, I hope this will give you something to cling on once you have nightmares, if possible try not to wake your aunt, she needs her sleep as well. You're a big girl now, and I will be right there with you as that tiny doll, may it bring you sweet dreams. I know I've left some hurtful words before I left but I wasn't quite sure on how to say goodbye, I didn't have the words and it all came out wrong. I didn't mean any of those words, I love you, and I hope you have it in you to forgive me for leaving you so soon without notice. I promise you that won't change, no matter where we both are and no matter the time I've spent away from you.

Love you always, from Dad"

The train was loud, and so were the bright cheers of the men that were on that train, each one commemorating the success, the loss, and their hard work paid off. The war ended, slowly but ended nonetheless. The nights were long, the days even longer and harsher, Arthur barely survived the last few months, and they were on the brink of starvation when the enemy surrendered. All of a sudden he was up the trench, he was crying alongside his mates, the living ones anyways, with those whom he lost lying on the ground.

The war was over. He could finally return home. Home was somewhere safe, home was somewhere he could always return to, home was his daughter. Amelie.

"Dearest Amelie,

I hope this letter has reached you, by the time you've read this you'll be 16 already won't you? I really wish I could've been there to celebrate it with you. I hope your aunt has been treating you well, and likewise you aren't giving her a hard time. I know how confusing it must be for me to leave so suddenly but I promise to come back home. I've left a present for you, I know how much you loved painting so I've left you a little box full of paints and brushes, I've asked your aunt to buy you a canvas as well. I've told you once that I never found art endearing, and I wish you chose another hobby but now? I think it's about time I let you decide for yourself, you know what you want and I'm afraid I love you too much to refuse you. Whatever makes you happy, I'll always be there to support you. I hope that this will be the last birthday that I wouldn't be able to attend, have you kept the doll I gave you? You've always lost small things since you kept placing them everywhere, I'll buy you another one once I come back home. I love you, and happy birthday Elie.

With Love, Dad"

The engines slowed down, grinding to a halt, Arthur was the first to sprint out, looking around in a frenzy. He saw many people, old, young, men, women, families, wives, parents, siblings, there were a lot of people that day and all of them were hoping to see the soldier they waved off come back to them in one piece. He couldn't see his sister around, so he figured they were waiting at home. He held on to his bag and rushed off, he wasn't willing to wait as much as he already has, he's missed too many birthdays and he wasn't about to make that any higher. He could only send a few letters every year, he wasn't even sure if all of those letters reached his daughter, it was all the more reason why he wasn't wasting any more time.

He ran through the crowd, through the cheers of others and through the smiles they gave as they saw him running past, no one stopped him, no one did, only cheers and salutations greeted him. He ran through the streets like a madman, having a few people yell in frustration, but it didn't matter. All he did care at that moment was the fact he was only a few streets away from his sister's house.

"Dearest Amelie,

How are you Elie? I've missed you so much, it's not as homely here compared back home, and I've always got someone's feet dangling in front of me while sleeping. I've missed reading books together, have you been reading with your aunt? I can't wait to hear what you've been reading about, my favorite story was the one with the three pigs and their houses, though you always said that the wolf didn't deserve all of what happened to it. I admire how sympathetic you are Elie, where I am right now, makes it hard for me to sympathize with others, I sometimes forget that they are just people like me. Times like this I wish I had your sympathetic nature for a change. Sleep tight my little Elie, I'll try to write more often.

Sweet dreams, from Dad"

He passed by the neighborhood, it changed so much in the span of three years, some people recognized him, Arthur waved at them but oddly enough he wasn't met warmly. They all looked at him with a sense of pity, sadness, and a look of uncertainty. He didn't have time to understand those expressions, all he had time for was running up the stairs up his sister's porch. He knocked on the front door, rang the doorbell for good measure. It took a while but the door eventually opened, inside was his sister looking up at him like a ghost. Before he could even greet her or even question her, she lunged at him, clutching him and sobbing.

"Eva calm down, it's me! I'm back, I'm back okay? It's alright." He tried to calm her down, Evangeline only shook her head, thick streams of tears dripping down her cheeks to her chin, she was spilling nonsense, none of her words making it through the film of pain and sorrow she held. Arthur had asked where Amelie was, Evangeline online sobbed, making out a single phrase that shook Arthur.

"Elie's, gone, I'm so sorry Arthur," she said through pauses and hiccups, Arthur could feel a thump against his chest. What did she mean gone? Did Amelie run away? Where could she have gone then? Looking for him? It was a classic tale, a child trying to run away in search of their parents, did Amelie run away for that? But that didn't explain how his sister was on the verge of hysteria.

Evangeline, who couldn't finish her sentences, simply led him out of the house, the people who he passed by nodding their head solemnly as they saw the poor woman, some talking in hushed whispers. What did this all mean? His questions were soon answered as they approached the cemetery, a cold gush of wind almost knocking him off his feet. He slowly walked through the gravel path, passing through gravestones, at the end of the path there he saw a tombstone.

It took him a while to be able to read what was engraved, not that it was hard, but it was simply for the fact his brain couldn't quite understand how it was possible.

Amelie Jane Oswald

Loving niece and daughter

Born May 12, 1×××

Died July 17, 1×××

"May the Lord guide you to the vibrant paradise that is His kingdom"

There it was, along with the doll that he thought she lost sitting on the cold stone, he felt sick to his stomach, gradually losing balance and dropping to the ground right in front of the tombstone.

What the hell was this cruel joke? Was the war not enough? Was crawling through hell and back laughable enough for him to go through another? Who was cruel enough to decide that it wasn't his safety that was on the line but rather his daughter? After all those years ensuring that his daughter had a safe place to call home, he'd come home alive to her being dead? He heard his sister sobbing louder.

"The doctors said, that the paint poisoned her gradually, I was already too late to notice." She sobbed, choking apologies after apologies, begging for mercy as she dragged herself with guilt to her own candle hell. Arthur didn't know who to blame, he wasn't even in any headspace to blame anyone but himself. The paint? The one he gave her for her birthday? The birthday he wasn't even there to celebrate? The way he left her with sour words off to fight a war he wasn't sure he'll come back alive? Who else to blame but him?

On top of the tombstone there was a small space, a box filled with letters, his letters, but among them were a few folded paintings of him, presumably painted by Amelie, even Arthur couldn't have imagined how talented she was, on the back of one of those paintings Amelie wrote a message.

"For each passing day, I come closer to forgetting what you look like, and each day, the strokes of my brush feels less confident as I paint your face. Were your eyes always this shade of brown? Or did you not have crinkles under your eyes whenever you smile? I pray for your safety, whatever the cost, even if it's for my own. Thank you for the letters, thank you for the paint, and most of all, thank you for being my father."

Clutching the painting, he kept it close to his chest, keeping it dry from his tears, desperately holding onto it as if his life depended on it. The war showed him the depravity of humanity, how far someone is willing to go to prove a point. It showed him how truly dispensable his life was, and how the lives of others were just numbers and statistics. He saw others drop dead in a flash, he knows how life works and how life inevitably ends. He has come to terms with people dying.

But as his pupils shook, eyes focusing on the grave of his beloved daughter, it was only then he understood the fickleness of life. He was ready for others to disappear, but not his Amelie. But truth stands that no matter how much you've prepared, life does not discriminate and does not know merit. Life does not consider who to keep and who to take, it does not matter who he was or what he has done. Life does not value honor nor the good you've done, it didn't judge who was guilty or who was innocent. It doesn't take into account who he is ready to lose and who he's willing to kill just for someone to stay alive. Life was just as simple as it gets, yet that's what seems to be the cruelest thing.

Rest well my beloved Amelie, I'll be here for your next birthday.

You’ve just got back from the war after several years. Each day you wrote to your daughter. You came back to find your letters piled on her grave.

#writers #writers on tumblr #writing prompts #writeblr #writing inspiration #angst #hurt no comfort #Taking inspiration from my own issues #Gotta take it out somewhere ykwim?#Kept the dates ambiguous since time accuracy was not placed in consideration

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mainstoryarchive · 5 months ago

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Ensemble - 121: Letter

Hokuto: Don't make such a show of every single thing, how irritating… Let's see, let's see…

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: In Front of Auditorium

Hokuto: Don't make such a show of every single thing, how irritating… Let's see, let's see…

Ugh, it has a uselessly solid sealing on it. Hey, where did you get this from?

Wataru: Nonsense! It's a big mistake to think I would answer just because you asked! Think about it! Make conjecture, make your brain cells spark!

After all, we are the descendants of the most sinful and depraved, Adam and Eve, who stole the fruit of wisdom from an omnipotent god…☆

Being mean like that could seriously earn me a punch from you though, so… Although it's not my style, I'll tell it to you frankly!

A moment ago a beautiful lady called out to me close to the garden terrace, she told me to hand that letter to you.

Hokuto: Please say so from the start. The explanation only had to take five seconds, didn't it?

A beautiful lady? Maybe it's from one of the older ladies, who I often meet on the train to and from school, who have recently been cheering me on…

Wataru: Indeed, she seemed to be quite an elderly woman. I think it's because of the constant explosive noise that kept going during the whole DDD, but she seemed quite tired…

I courteously escorted her to a quiet place where she could rest.

I was told to give you her greetings, Hokuto-kun.

I see that you are more similar to your grandmother than your parents…♪

Hokuto: Grandmother? It couldn't be… is this letter from my grandma?

Wataru: Indeed. I've become acquainted with her during my endeavors in one of my many interests, during a seminar on haikus.

She must have entrusted this letter to me knowing full-well I was acquainted with you.

While we were there she also made me accompany her for tea plentily.

It was a most worthwhile use of time. No matter how many years pass, women increase their charm even more as they grow older!

She told me about Hokuto-kun's failure stories from the past and the like, we've had pleasant chats.

I would very much like to meet her again sometime! Look at this, we've even exchanged mail addresses…☆

Hokuto: Don't get on good terms with peoples' grandmas on your own convenience!

Wataru: Ufufufu, don't you think such jealousy is unsightly?

At any rate, that was all the business I had with you! I'm not as boorish as to interrupt you while you read this important letter, so I will be excusing myself here ♪

Hokuto-kun, may you be blessed with happiness! Farewell! Fuhahaha ☆

Hokuto: Don't laugh loudly while you're leaving with your air balloon, do you think you're a phantom thief? Just why do you need to leave all dramatically like that…?

However, I'll be thankful that you delivered this letter to me. …Wataru Hibiki-buchou.

Wataru: I can't hear you! If you want to convey your feelings of gratitude, you only have to say one thing loud and clear, that is 'Amazing'…☆

Hokuto: Hmph. That's the one word I'll never say even if I were to die.

Wataru: Ahaha ☆ It looks like you're finally back to usual, a smile fits you best after all, Hokuto-kun!

Just like that, make more and more smiles bloom!

That which is more beautiful than any rose, makes the flower of hope bloom…! Amazing ☆

Hokuto: … …

(And he's gone, with his air balloon. I seriously don't get that person…)

(I feel like I could have a more understandable conversation with Sakuma-senpai, even though he's one of the Three Oddballs just like him.)

(However, I'm thankful for his kindness.)

(I thought I was walking all by myself, but in reality I'm supported by many people.)

(Just having felt that, there's meaning in being thankful to you.)

(Well now.)

(I got a letter from my grandma.)

(I wonder why? Why go out of her way to write a letter… Even though we can always talk at home…)

(It looks like she went out of her way to come cheer me on at the DDD. She might have suddenly felt like she had to hurry and tell me something when she saw me here today…)

(Well, it's fine, I'll know why when I read it. Grandma hasn't done anything to hurt me or try to shape my life like my parents, not even once.)

(This letter will surely lessen the anguish that I'm carrying right now even if just a little.)

(Thank you, grandma. You always save me when I'm hurting the most.)

(You help me casually, in a natural manner. I'm so thankful for that.)

(It seems I really never was alone.)

(Grandma, I'll be reading your letter preciously.)

[ ☆ ]

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#enstars #ensemble stars #ensemble stars translation #hokuto hidaka #wataru hibiki

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alastgoodnight · 9 months ago

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As though knowing things have been busy, the envelope decorated with bold, primary colours doesn't appear until Naomi has settled back into a nice routine. This time, the address is written very neatly, with each letter of 'Lullaby Lane' in a different colour to mimic a rainbow.

"Dear Miss Naomi,

How are you? Has the weather been nice where you are? The snow has finally gone away here and my friends and I can play on the grass again. I like this time of year. The longer days means I have more time to spend with everyone.

You know.... I think Home and Library might be long-lost building siblings. That's how Home talks to me too. It can be hard to know what they say at first, but you'll see Library has ways of giving the same answer. Home likes to bang my shutters when it wants to give a big 'NO' to something, or it creaks the stairs when I've forgotten to do something. Aside from Barnaby, I think it would be my best friend. And best Home, ha ha ha.

Lullaby Lane sounds like a lovely place. I best you can have the loveliest naps there. It reminds me of a picture I saw in a book, with a dark blue sky and big, white stars drawn on top of it. It must be true if it helps you meet so many friends. I hope one day I will be able to see it for myself.

The Neighborhood is small, I think. There's me (Wally) and Home. Barnaby is a dog who is also a comedian. Julie is a rainbow monster who plays a lot of games and always knows how to have fun. Frank is very clever and knows a lot about insects and flowers. Eddie is our mailman and is always looking out for me. Howdy is a big caterpillar who runs the grocery store and always has something new on sale. Poppy is a big hen who bakes really yummy birdseed bread and other things. Sally is the star and actress.

They're all my friends. I'm very lucky for that.

I like the drawing of your friends. I've never met a monster under the bed. I had heard they were scary, but it is good that they can be nice after all.

Miss Naomi, what do you do in the Library? Are you helping with the books, or are there other things to do there?

I've added a picture of myself and Barnaby. He's a lot bigger than me. Sometimes, I can ride on his back when we go on our "perusals". Barnaby says that's a fancy walk.

Your friend,

Wally."

However, there are two extra pieces of paper inside the folded letter. The first, on the stronger material, is a coloured drawing of the little yellow person with swirly blue hair standing beside a large, blue, spotted dog. The words "Going on a walk" are written in red about this. The second page is the same as the writing paper, though cut in half with a pair of scissors.

"Hello again,

I almost forgot. Sally was very excited to hear you would want to help in her plays one day. I would also like to hear you read a story one day. I bet you're really good at it.

Your friend again,

Wally."

(heythereneighbor)

Naomi’s added a little flag to the letterbox. It doesn’t matter how it works, she just knows it will.

Sure enough, in the middle of a quiet morning, the little shwing! of the flag catches her attention while she makes the bed. She smiles, and barely manages to finish her task before walking to the desk in long, fast strides.

“Wally!” She knows his stationary by now, and the smile widens as she opens it. It’s been a little while since she heard from him, but it’s nice to know he’s found time to write.

It’d be nice to meet him in person one day, she thinks, reading the letter in the light of the morning sun.

She feels her expression soften, reading how he speaks about Home. Even after the last week or so…

She picks up her pen right away.

“Dear Wally, You know, I think you’re right. This Library is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. It may take a while to understand what it says, but I know it cares about me, and I’m very, very lucky I’m here to know it. That’s not the order I should start a letter in, but it felt important. In any case, hello! It’s so nice to hear from you again. Isn’t the start of Spring lovely? Winter can be so pretty and still, but there’s something very special about seeing the snow melt and little flowers start to peek up from the grass. Do you have a favorite flower? I really like hydrangeas (like on my letters), but in the Spring, my favorite is seeing trees grow full of pink and white flowers. I’ll include a couple pictures of my favorites.”

And she does - a couple of photos of apple and orange trees in bloom.

“Lullaby Lane IS lovely. There’s a swing on the front porch where I can sit and read for a long time, and I bet it would be good for naps, too. It’s pretty empty right now - it’s a long stretch of road with the Library in the middle, and Slumber Hill where Arlo lives in the back with all the trees - but it means there’s plenty of room to play and explore. Maybe one day more people will come to live here! That will be nice.”

And maybe I’ll even be here to see it, she doesn’t add.

“You know, I’d love to have you over for a visit, but I think I’d also like to visit you! It sounds like you live in a wonderful neighborhood with wonderful people. Including Home, I think that makes 8 friends all in one place! I’m happy that you get to share your life with so many friends. Willa and Rags are like that for me, too. Rags can’t talk, but he makes lots of silly sounds with his nose and mouth. I call them chuffs and whuffles, because that’s what they sound like.”

She taps her pen against the paper, and it leaves a little splotch. She absently doodles a flower around it.

“As for what I do at the Library… well, when I came here, it was pretty run-down and worn-out. Nobody had come here in a long time, so all its wood had worn out and everything was covered in dust. I take care of it by cleaning, decorating, and repairing what I can. When it's all done, we can open it for people to come visit and borrow books! I think we're almost there. You know something funny? I think it’s taking care of me, too. I was”

Pause. Pen lingers. She starts writing again.

“I was pretty lonely myself for a while, before I came here. I knew people, but I wasn’t very good at getting to know them, or even going outside to meet them. Since coming here, I’ve met people, learned things, and done a lot more than I knew I could before. Neither of us is ever perfect at it, but we’re learning to do a little better each day. I think that’s the most important thing we can teach each other. Thanks again for writing, Wally. I hope you enjoy Spring with your neighbors! Your friend, Miss Naomi.”

She’s about to seal it up when she pauses, and lightly taps herself on the forehead. “Duh!”

Another note, this one on a smaller piece of stationary, is snuck in.

“I completely forgot! Library likes to make its boards creak in different rooms to tell me where it wants me to be, and uses the wind-chimes outside to laugh. It likes to play guessing games with me, but I’m getting better at figuring out what it’s saying!”

On the back, she draws a loose sketch of the Library - a bigger house now, with three distinct floors and a big window at the top. It’s hard to draw the porch, but she does her best.

She doesn’t want to rush him, though, so she waits a couple of hours before looking at it one more time. Satisfied, she seals with a sticker of a blue and orange balloon, and off it goes.

Naomi smiles.

#Me: I'm gonna wait a bit and not be overwhelming #Naomi: No I wanna write letters NOW #(well here we are. Please feel free to take your time as always this was just excitement)#heythereneighbor

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mil-fan-4ever · 1 year ago

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My Inner Life: The Continuation

Chapter Four

Waiting for Link

Waiting for Link We spent a week in Zora’s Domain before there was any word from Link at all. Zelda and I were playing with Little Link and Elyesia one afternoon, relegated to the indoors because of the chill outside, and though both of us were troubled about what we might have to do to the king, we were trying to ignore the dire situation while we still could.

It was as we were playing with my children—and Little Link was starting to mumble in something like speech, which I wished Link could be there for—that a man in a white uniform and red hat was allowed into the large cavern that made up Zora’s Domain. He attracted attention right away because he was not a Zora, and also because he was dressed so strangely.

He looked around for a moment, before his eyes caught mine. Zelda and I were watching him curiously. He smiled when he saw me and he hurried forward, practically sprinting across the length of the cavern’s walkway to approach me. “Are you Jenna Silverblade, wife of the “Hero of Time?”” He asked.

I had been sitting with Elyesia in my lap, but now I pulled her close. The baby looked around at the man. “I am,” I said cautiously. “Who wants to know?”

“The postman,” said the man, smiling at me flashing his teeth. He tipped his hat smartly. “Good afternoon, Mistress Jenna. I come today with a letter for you.” He reached into the bag on his hip and produced a large red envelope. As soon as I took it he bowed and bid us farwell. Before I could say anything at all, he had run out of the room and back out into the winter afternoon.

I frowned down at the envelope between my fingers. Ruto, who must have seen what happened, came up to us. “A letter?” Ruto asked. “Oh, dear… You must open it at once, Jenna!” She took Elyesia from me and held the baby close to her fishlike body, as I slipped one finger under the flap of the envelope and tore the envelope open. I read it first to myself and, when the others saw the big grin that happed across my face, they urged me to read it aloud. So I did so.

My dearest wife—I wish that I could be with you in these dark times, and I wish that I could be there with the children. I trust in the princess and I know that she has taken you someplace safe. I guess I should thank Ruto for that, too, and Impa, while I’m thinking about it. I cannot tell you where I’ve gone, but I can tell you that I am with people also dedicated to saving King Zelda and freeing Hyrule from Ariakas’s threat. Give my love to the children. Link.

After I was done reading, I hugged the letter to my chest. Oh, my husband was safe! He lived! And he was also going to help free my father! I could have danced, I was so happy. But I hadn’t had much energy lately. In fact, I had felt utterly exhausted since my escape from Drakeshade Palace. The princess assured me that I was only feeling the aftereffects of my delivery—which had only been a week ago—and that I hadn’t rested properly to begin with, so it might take longer to heal.

So be it, I had decided. But now that I knew Link was safe, a new surge of energy coursed through me. Through my veins, through my marrow. I was happier than I could ever remember being and I wanted to see him right away.

Only I knew I couldn’t. Not while Ariakas was sitting the throne.

We had heard news from Hyrule Castle Town, though I didn’t want to hear it at all. I had listened, though. I knew the king would want me to know. Castle Town was under the control of the Dark Lord and his Dark Knights patrolled the streets, while his Draconians flew above, looking out for dissenters and rebels. I thought of Ibsef and I wondered if his dragon was still alive, if they were both safe.

A chill ran threw me. How could they be, now that Ibsef had betrayed his lord so many times? And all for an enemy.

I said a silent prayer to the Goddesses, hoping beyond hope that Ibsef yet lived.

“This is wonderful news!” Ruto said, her eyes lighting up with joy. “Oh, Jenna, I’m so happy for you!”

“Yes,” I mumbled. “I’m happy, as well.” I felt something tug on my skirt, and I looked down. Link Jr was there, looking up at me with his big, sparkling blue eyes. The eyes that looked just like Link’s. Now that Little Link was getting older I was able to pick out unique features that he’d gotten from Link or me. And he definitely looked more like his father.

Biting back tears, I reached down and stroked his cheek. “Daddy’s fine, little one,” I cooed. “And we’re going to see him soon.” Little Link’s eyes lit up and he giggled, wriggling delightedly at my knee. I could not help but smile and the apprehension I felt before dissipated at once. I leaned down and picked up my little son, putting him in my lap as he struggled, half-heartedly, in my grip.

The mood of our little group changed dramatically. Ruto, as always, was talkative and lively. Zelda seemed to brighten considerably, certainly far happier than I had seen her in the time I’d been in hiding here. The news was not entirely reassuring, but it was something, and it was something dear to which we could all grasp. No matter how tenuous and temporary an assurance it might have been.

It was not long after that that we began receiving word from not only Zelda’s spies in Castle Town, but from the other kingdoms that surrounded Hyrule. Kalence was reporting that a resistance group had sprung up under the banner of a silver unicorn on a field of gold, declaring that some noble house or other was taking over the kingdom, all so it could mobilize its forces to stop the spread of Ariakas’s evil. Reports from Avalon suggested that the resistance had mobilized there, as well, though something about that made me perk up my ears. It mostly had to do with reports of a dashing figure in green leading a group of rebels against the Dark Lord’s agents that had tried to infiltrate Avalon’s government.

I smiled to myself when I heard that detail. That was my Link, I thought. He was always there, ready to fight evil when he could, to save people when he could. He was my “Hero of Time” and I was so proud of him I nearly burst from my pride for him.

As the days flew by my children began to grow like weeds. Little Link was crawling at top speed and he even occasionally managed to stand up and take a few toddling steps before he would fall back onto his behind. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he laughed, but I was always there to help him back up. Elyesia, my darling daughter, showed more and more awareness of her surroundings with each passing day and it was amazing to see the spark of comprehension light her face every once in a while. I was so proud I could hardly bear it.

I did grow bored with all of the waiting I was forced to do, however. And though Zelda had brought many books on ancient customs and the role of Silverlites in Hylian and other governments, there were only so many times I could read about the Silverlite Council before I just gave up and tossed the books aside. And Zora’s Domain was becoming less and less novel as I stayed there. How many times had I traversed it in my time here? Too many to count, surely, and far too many to care for it anymore.

However, not to long after the good news of the rebellions and other nations rising up against Ariakas came to us, we also received some news that made me very worried. Ariakas was apparently using some dark rituals to make the people of Castle Town his mind slaves. And he had sent Draconians to the Black Mountains, supposedly to eradicate the griffins, now that he had the power and money to do so. I was horrified. One of my friends, Dalamar, was a griffin, and this put him directly in danger.

But, I reminded myself, the griffins had been fighting the Dark Lord for centuries. Surely they knew how to defeat a few Draconians? I could only hope that they did. And yet I still worried for them. Worried that this time, they might not make it.

I did have one thing to keep me busy, I supposed. Or two, rather. Elyesia was up at the oddest hours of the night, wanting to be fed or wanting attention. I always indulged her, though Zelda told me—teasingly—that the girl was getting fat from my constant feeding. I retorted that most babies were pudgy, and left it at that. Though we did have a good laugh about it.

Little Link, on the other hand, was starting to use his first real words. He had been a very quiet child before then, choosing instead to communicate with his facial expressions and eyes rather than mumble or yell or shriek, as most small children were wont to do. I had been worried about it, but Link was always quick to comfort me by saying that our son was just special. He was unique and he would grow and develop at his own rate. And I knew it was true. Especially now that Link, Jr. was talking up a storm. None of what he said made much sense, but at least he was talking now.

My fairy Lilly and Little Link’s fairy Aria were also a source of great amusement and joy during this troubling time. They were very good at taking care of the children when I was unable to be with them, and they kept me company when Zelda or Ruto could not. I was eternally grateful to them and to the Great Deku Tree for bestowing such wonderful gifts upon me and my family. Though I was starting to feel anxious for Elyesia. I had gotten my guardian fairy when I had been twenty-one, so I didn’t think there was an age limit on when someone could receive one. But Elyesia had been born a month ago, already. It was high time she got one!

“You are not leaving,” Zelda told me, “to entreat the Deku Tree for a fairy, Jenna.” She eyed me with her sharp blue eyes. “I know that it’s important to you, but think of all the danger you would put yourself and your child in. Come now. Be reasonable.”

I bit my lip, rankled at her words. How could she be so… so cruel to me? But I knew she was right. And the last thing I wanted to do was put either of my children in danger. And especially not when Link was abroad! I could only imagine the horror a parent must feel if he or she is gone for months only to come home and find out a child has died! So I sighed and decided to be diplomatic. “You are right my friend,” I said. “It was foolish of me to suggest such a thing.”

“Not foolish,” Zelda said gently. “Just rash, dear. There will be a time when you can do this freely, but that time is not now.”

I sighed again and nodded. I was miserable. It hurt to know that my poor daughter would go without a fairy for that much longer. And already I was thinking about the Blessing Ceremony we would have to have for her. That might not happen, though, not if the king was still…

Oh, Goddesses… the king! Grief and anger poured over me like hot magma.

“Princess,” I said. “You have a way to save the king, do you not?” Zelda’s mouth tightened a little. “I do,” she said. “Unfortunately I cannot go through with my plan until everything is in place…” She trailed off, looking very cryptic and serious. When I touched her shoulder, trying to get her attention, she only smiled distantly at me. “Worry not my friend. Father will be well again. It just might take a little longer than either of us want it to.”

I nodded slowly. Honestly, out of every bad thing that was happening, it was Zelda and her situation that worried me the most. If her plan went wrong in any capacity, she might be forced to kill her own father. And she had no husband, so she could not properly ascend the throne. That left me in the position of next in line for the throne, though I was apprehensive about that. I couldn’t lead a country if I wanted to!

Zelda sighed beside me. She looked as though she had more to say, or wanted to say something else, but she kept it to herself. I felt my eyes narrow as I looked at her, wishing she would just say it already. But if she wasn’t going to say it, there was no way I could force it out of her. So I kept quiet and simply watched as she and the others carried on with the conversation, and if Zelda was troubled by her upcoming role in upcoming events, she did not betray it.

Even more time passed and things just seemed to grow more and more bleak by the day. King Zora was taking in a few refugees from Hyrule Castle—very few, as it happened. I wished he would open his doors to more helpless, vulnerable people, but there was only so much space to spare and only so many resources for other hungry mouths. I hurt for my fellow Hylians but there was nothing I could do for them. Not when I needed to keep a level head for my friends and for my children.

One-day, I was sitting with my children, reading to Little Link from a picture book someone had managed to sneak into Zora’s Domain. Elyesia, who was now only about two months old, slept at odd hours, and I was always grateful for this because as much as I loved my children, watching two of them at once was quite a handful. She dozed on the bed and I sat propped up against it on the floor, Little Link snuggled up next to me and pointing at pictures as I turned the page. On every page he would point at a picture and declare what it was. I was so proud of my smart little son.

It was as I was sitting there reading that I felt something beyond my consciousness flutter in my mind. I blinked and at first I thought nothing of it; I must have been tired, feeling the effects of excessive boredom and an inconsistent sleep schedule. But then I felt it again, and I realized that I was feeling something that I had not felt in months.

Someone was trying to communicate telepathically with me. I knew who it was. There was only one person with whom I shared a mental connection like that. Tears welled in my eyes and crystal tears fell before I could stop them.

Link. My Link, my husband, my love, my “Hero of Time” was trying to contact me. After months and months he was finally close enough to me that we could connect mentally. I put a hand over my mouth, trying not to sob in happiness, because I did not want to upset the children.

I sent Little Link to play with a toy a traveling carpenter had crafted for us and had the fairies watch the babes while I picked myself up and went out into the common room. “Link.” I said metally. “Link, my love, can you hear me?”

I held my breath as I waited for a response. Seconds ticked into minutes ticked into an eternity. I was almost starting to wonder if I had false hope, when suddenly, I heard a response. “Jenna? Jenna is that you?”

I recognized the voice instantly. I laughed out loud. “Link!” I squealed internally. “Link, oh, Goddesses, I have missed you so much! Where are you? What have you been doing? Why were you gone so long?” He shushed me gently and I waited for a reply. Finally, he said, “Jenna listen my love I cannot say much. I cannot reveal where I am. I do not want to put my friends in danger. But I will say that I have been working to reverse Ariakas’s hold on Hyrule for the past few months. His outriders have tried to sneak into neighboring kingdoms but they have rallied their people and fought back against the dark forces of evil. People are coming, Jenna, people from Avalon and Kalence and even as far as Gahrell across the sea.”

“Across the sea!” I gasped. “His evil reaches so far?”

“Unfortunately yes my love.” Link said solemnly. “But do not worry. We are together with the other kingdoms in this and I believe we can defeat Ariakas if we accept help from outside forces like this. We’ll send Ariakas out in the only way he really deserves: outnumbered and alone.”

By this time tears were streaming down my face I was so happy. At that moment Ariakas seemed a distant thing, a threat long forgotten and unable to touch me where I was. I sobbed into my hand and thanked the Goddesses and the Mother Goddess Herself for allowing me such utter and uncontained joy.

Link was safe. He was coming back to Hyrule. And, best of all, he was going to stop Ariakas before the Dark Lord gained too much power, before he took the entire world into his vile grasp.

I could never imagine being happier than I was right then.

Though I was worried. I did not want Link to get hurt. But if he was able to escape Ariakas’s trap in the Forest Temple, and make his way to… well, to wherever he’d gone… then surely he was more than capable of taking down this threat? And it wasn’t as though he was alone. Not like Ariakas. Link had people to back him up, a veritable army, and then there were Hyrule’s own forces. They were scattered but if they could all unite under one banner, under one common cause… nothing would ever defeat us. Nothing.

“When shall you return to Hyrule, my love?” I asked Link.

“We are a day’s ride from there, my sweet heart,” said Link. “We should be able to reach the border of Hyrule by early morning tomorrow. After that… well. We’ll see what happens after that.”

I did not like the uncertainty in his tone. “Do you know what’s happened to Hyrule since you left, my love?” I asked quietly.

“I have heard rumors.” Link said. “I dislike what I’ve heard. But I shall change it. I have to change it.” In my mind’s eye I could just see Link sitting there, his hands bunched into fists as he wrestled his anger and turned it into determination. “Ariakas must be destroyed. He cannot be allowed to further harm the balance of powers in the world.”

“You are quite right my love,” I said. “I hope to see you soon and I hope you come back safely to me. Promise me you shall stay safe for me! For the children. Oh, Elyesia is such a beautiful child, darling, and Little Link…”

“Jen,” Link said, laughingly. “Jenna, I’m sorry my love but I have to go. I will speak with you again soon, I promise.” He paused, and then added, “I love you. Good night.”

“Good night darling,” I said back. Another tear trailed down my cheek before I wiped my tears away. I could not cry. Not after having just received such good tidings.

Link was coming back. He would be back in Hyrule tomorrow. Tomorrow! It seemed months away.

But he was coming home to me just like I knew he would. Link would never abandon me, he wouldn’t go easily into death either because he knew he would have to leave me. And I would never die easily, either, because I did not want to leave him or our children behind.

I put my hands over my heart. Link, my world, was coming back. And I was ready to see him, more ready for anything than I had ever been before. He would be delighted to see just how much our children had grown in just three months.

I closed my eyes and pictured Link again, only this time he was smiling at me and I was smiling at him.

#my inner life: the continuation #mine #my fanfic

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vaaaaaiolet · 1 month ago

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hello and welcome to my live reaction of cressie breaking and putting together my heart for the millionth time with her writing

reader fascinating simon so much since the beginning was the cutest thing to read in your style. you wrote out his childhood so well, every mention of the purple and his dad's treatment of him made my heart ache TERRIBLY.

He doesn't know how long he'll be able to squeeze here with you. Maybe he'll eventually grow to be too big. He knows he will. He's not supposed to be sleeping with you. He sees it in the way your parents shake the both of you awake in the morning with all the concern for you.

I CRIED. BABY SIMON OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY

nobody writes dialogue like you i swear. reader and simon's back and forth was so fun to read (when i wasn't AWWing or crying or both let's be real)

"Thirteen weeks is a long time, angel." "Angel? Well, then, maybe you should embrace what this angel's telling you to do."

LIKE HELLO????? I MELTED. the chapstick moment was adorable :,)

"Think I'm pretty?" "Just the lashes."

the blond lash bit will never not make me smile EEE

AND THEN WHEN THEY FINALLY GOT TOGETHER BUT SIMON SIGNED UP FOR SAS. JOHNNY GETTING MARRIED AND JOSEPH RILEY. must you TORTURE ME SO???

the wedding segment and the drunk confession OH MY LORD i felt like i was watching one day again. reader starting to write letters back healed my soul and the following paragraph was just beautiful oh my gosh

He feels childish writing to you sometimes. The pen feels a little too light for a hand that only knows the sword and not pen. Well, sword is wrong. Gun. His hands are much more used to the weight of a weapon than a quill. It helps ground him sometimes.

THE RING SHOPPING. THE SPUR OF THE MOMENT PROPOSAL. FINALLY BEING UPGRADED TO LUVIE. THE CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!! oh that was SO FREAKING CUTE AHGHAGHAGGH

"Thinking?" You quirk your head to the side "Thinkin' bout you, luvie." "Yeah? You'll be doing that a lot more now, Si." "Always have been."

and i'll definitely be thinking about this for a while. thank you for blessing codfic with your genius, cress :,,))

'cause now I'm scared to love the thought of you the way you did with me

word count: 10.6k

summary: love, you know. you, simon knows.

The first time Simon ever met you, he had the aching feeling that he knew you already.

No, not the sense of deja vu you get in snippets throughout your life. He felt the strange sense that he had known you all his life and had done something to wrong you somehow. He's four. Four-year-olds should not know that feeling. Especially not the sense that somehow, he had broken your heart or betrayed you. He's never met you before — that much, he's certain. He'd know. You're his age, so it's not like this feeling can be from knowing you as an infant. He doesn't remember that far back.

You wave at him, grinning as you pull him off with his brother to hang out as your parents talk to his mom, and you show him what it means to play.

When he leaves later, you ask him if you're friends.

He gives you a blank stare.

You end up in his class later that year, his next-door neighbour and companion, walking home with him from primary school, asking him if he understood anything in class. You're not as bright as he is, Simon thinks. You struggle a little more with certain concepts, and you argue with the teachers over ways to do certain things. A contradiction of everything, he thinks. He mulls over what you are and what you are not. How do you feel simultaneously like a fifty-year-old and a five-year-old at the same time?

He tugs on you sometimes to calm you down.

"Stop it."

"But it's—"

He gives you a look and you huff.

Simon likes sticking by your place, but he also doesn't enjoy it.

When he goes home, dad beats him because he was with you again.

Can' have them findin' out abou' what I do. y' hear me?

The purple is hard to hide around you. You pry too much. You ask too many questions. You tug Tommy around too much and Tommy talks too much. You don't need to know what it's like at home for him. You ask too many questions about why he's wearing a turtleneck when it's already twenty-two degrees outside. You tug at it, offering one of your shirts, but he can't. You don't need to know. You can't know. You shouldn't know. For some reason.

He wants to hide it from you for some reason.

You seem to know anyway, blinking at Simon curiously as you push back his sleeve, staring at the purple.

"You should report him, you know?"

"Ma wouldn't like that."

"So you'd rather be beat? Is it not just a fear factor?"

You don't speak like you're from around there either. You have a mixed accent. Like you've been in an amalgamation of countries and grew up everywhere at once. You don't feel like you're from Manchester. You had moved, sure, but you're young. You seem to be a constant dichotomy between everything and nothing. What does it mean to exist to you? You stare off into nothing the same way his ma does. But time travel doesn't exist or whatever. It's impossible to be sent back in time. All of that is just science fiction.

Pondering. Is that the word?

"What are y' looking at?"

"I'm thinking." You hum, blinking back to life. "That cloud looks like a rabbit."

"No. Looks like a duck."

"Well, now that it's moved." You huff. "That one's a heart."

"That one looks like a dog."

"I don't see it."

"The four legs?"

"Hm."

"'kay, well, that one's a worm."

"See that."

"mhm."

Dad is taken away at one point. Simon returns home to police at his door, hauling his drunken dad out as another officer comforts his mom, and he leads Tommy inside.

"You Simon?"

"Yes ma'am."

"This Tommy?"

"Mhm."

"You won't need to worry about that man anymore."

"Dad." Simon says. "Dad."

"You won't need to worry about him hitting you anymore."

"He makes all the money. Where are we t' go?"

He spots your parents with his ma, and he wonders where you are.

"They said they'll take you all in." The woman tells him.

Your place isn't big enough for all of them.

Yet, when he's brought home to your family, the guest room is set up, yet he finds himself in your room when he can't sleep, staring at you quietly in the dark, watching as you rub your eyes tiredly and scooch over to make space for him.

He still fits in your bed at this point in time.

"Does that make us siblings?" You whisper, getting yourself comfortable as you tangle limbs with him.

Simon wants to say yes. He does. But there's something else he wants, he supposes. He pauses.

"Maybe."

Room for maybe not. Maybe yes.

Maybe it's a cruel joke that he failed to fall asleep with his mother yet knocked right out with you. He's not so lucky as to be able to do it, and he understands that he's a guest so he shouldn't get too comfortable with the host, but you seem to abandon all care and treat him as though you really were siblings. You share everything with him, and he doesn't get why it hurts when you do.

The maybe was a maybe yes to you, maybe.

The maybe was a no to him. It was maybe not.

There's something in his chest that twists uncomfortably when you treat him like a sibling, abandoning all care for it, and he understands that maybe it's what his mother felt when she had been with his father. He doesn't know how long he'll be able to squeeze here with you. Maybe he'll eventually grow to be too big. He knows he will. He's not supposed to be sleeping with you. He sees it in the way your parents shake the both of you awake in the morning with all the concern for you.

It's almost as if he shouldn't be friends with you at all.

Yet, you don't give him the ability to choose, telling your parents that it didn't matter because Simon was like a brother to you.

The concept of siblings should not hurt Simon as much as it does.

He nods along, and you lace your fingers with him and Tommy, telling your parents you're thrilled that you can finally have the brothers you've always wanted.

Your parents let it go and his mom apologizes for the case, but your parents assure her that it's all you and none him.

Simon keeps his fingers laced with you all the way until the two of you get to the classroom.

You don't mind the teasing from the kids, and in turn, Simon doesn't seem to either.

That's how you spend the rest of primary school, tangled limbs with Simon, tugging and dragging him around with you to different things, and he learns to grow comfortable in your presence. The strange sense that he's done something wrong eventually fizzes into nothing that he worries about. The certainty you have in your friendship keeps Simon afloat even when his family eventually moves into a flat nearby.

You hang out at his place after classes, doing homework with him, munching on snacks you bring from the local supermarket on your way back from classes, humming and chewing on the chips as you do homework.

You struggle less than Simon now.

It's like you know.

The strange feeling that you know everything yet nothing lingers despite the guilt leaving. You blink at him quietly and sleep over occasionally, humming quietly as you lay on the mattress on the ground, staring up at nothing.

You do not go through puberty the same way Simon does.

Simon hits a growth spurt in the early years of secondary school — bed suddenly too small, skin stretching out at the alarming pace he was gaining height, and you hold back laughter when he hits his head in the morning and you laugh from the air mattress. He grumbles as he heads off to wash up, and when he returns, you only smile at him like you know something and he doesn't.

He finds you stare at him with a lot more pride than you used to. It's almost like you're his mother staring at him grow up, and it makes him uncomfortable.

You still sleep in the same room as him because you don't seem to think of him as a threat of any kind.

The girls at school start noticing him as well — whispering happening around him of how he's grown so much and how he's "oh suck a looker" because of his height. You've always told him he looked real pretty. "Blond lashes are rare" you'd told him. "makes you look real pretty, Si". He had flushed red at your compliment, but only because it had been you. He had found that it would only be you. Everything you did, intentional or not, had caused more than enough flustered stumbling from him.

He supposes it is just the curse of a teen in love.

You squeeze his bicep when you pass him in between periods, waving bye to him as you're off to the classes you chose and he didn't.

It's in the periods where you're not by him that the girls like to step up to him and giggle, asking if he's free or if he's all alone.

He wonders if he should lie sometimes.

A no warranted a "well would you want to? what about me?" and a yes warranted a "oh surely you jest" so truly, Simon did not have much a choice. He'd prefer it if you just branded him at that point.

Branded.

You brand him?

He understands that whatever he had felt for you in his earlier years was a sense of yearning, and whatever he felt for you in the current years was most likely closer to love than it is a schoolboy crush. He finds it unfair to do that to you, though. You had only ever seemed to see him as a sibling or something adjacent, cheeks warm and lips curled upwards as you head over to his place with him after classes, helping his mom out with cooking if she needed it, heading home only after dark and making sure that Simon walks you there.

He's utterly and completely a fool for you, he finds.

You could tell him to steal the stars in the sky and he'd somehow find a way.

He finds that it's just a curse, maybe. He's stuck with you and he enjoys it because you had met him at four and suddenly everything you ever did became a benefit to him. You knew what he would do good in, and you knew where he could find a job. Everything from start to finish was as if you had preordained it all. Like you had known before the moment the two of you first met. It was as though you knew everything and were intervening. Some kind of angel for him.

"How was class?"

"Was fine."

He's the one who drags you into the store this time, fishing out cash as he hands you a pack of cough drops, raising a brow when you raise a brow at him.

"You're gonna start coughing soon."

"I still have leftovers from last year."

"y'know tha's not the flavor you like."

You hold a hand over your chest, pretending to be moved as he passes by with a ruffle of your hair.

"Si, you do care!"

"Think I didn't?"

"Maybe."

He follows you home to your place tonight. His ma isn't home and Tommy wanted some alone time with his girlfriend, so he settles at your place. It isn't as though he has no other friends. He's hard to approach because of the deadpan look on his face at all times, but he knows others. You worry that he doesn't so to ease the worry, he has other friends. He thinks about it a little. He only seems to care for what you say. It's been a while since his ma's words have worked on him. Though, he still avoids getting in trouble. She doesn't deserve that, and you'd probably give him a hard time if he really did trouble her in any sort of way.

"How was class?"

"Was fine." He sighs, spreading out his books on the table as you scribble away with yours.

How your hand does not fall off from the writing drives Simon up the wall. Writing has never truly been his strong suit — he's much more fit for his part-time job at the butcher's or fixing your parents' old car when they ask him if he knows what to do with it. He's much better with his hands than he is with his mind at times, but it's never stopped you from just breaking everything down into simpler concepts for him.

"Why d'you do it?" He had asked you once.

"Why wouldn't I?" You left the second part of the sentence hanging in the air.

Simon wonders if he could dare to imagine that the second half of the sentence was an "i love you" the same way that he seemed to love you with.

Though, he'd never know.

You beg your parents to let you spend the night with Simon at the turn of the century, the agreement being that he'd spend the night with you, settling on the floor or your room on an air mattress that he most definitely does not fit in, offering him your bed that's too big for you alone when you're sure your parents are knocked out. He finds himself tangling limbs with you once more, staring down at you as you blink up at him under the sheets, blanket covering the two of you as you open a flashlight. He blinks as you stare at him.

"What?"

"Yer really pretty, Si." You hum. "Can I touch you?"

"Ya nasty—"

"Your face." You mumble. "You can say no."

"'s fine." He mumbles, letting your hands map his face gently as he hums, observing as you seem to memorize something. Patterns of his skin. Your eyes gentle from the flashlight as you press your forehead to his. "You look scared."

"I'll live." You whisper, voice shaking.

You fall asleep in his arms that night, and he wakes up to you tucked under his chin snoring.

He doesn't recover from it.

You suggest him to join a military boot camp over summer after secondary since he wasn't planning on university, tilting your head and shrugging when he asks why. Would suit him. Maybe he'd like it. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. He doesn't need to pursue it. Besides, he doesn't have anything to do either.

"Thirteen weeks is a long time, angel."

"Angel? Well, then, maybe you should embrace what this angel's telling you to do."

He goes per your suggestion, and you send him off with his family and yours, grinning as he frowns at you at the doors with his duffle bag, blowing him a kiss as he fights the blush that snakes up his neck. When he emerges for one final look without his hair, you laugh and play with the new cut, humming quietly as you whisper that you'll be waiting for you after his three months.

He lets himself relax into your touch as your families stand to the side, and he whispers quietly asking you for a goodbye kiss as if he were off to war. He expects you to decline, but you press your lips to his forehead, humming as you lean back and admire the print that's been left behind from your chapstick, laugh on your lips as you reach to wipe it off with your thumb, too occupied with cleaning it off to notice the starstruck look on his face as he stares at you.

"Wait f'r me, won't you?"

"How could I not? As long as you send me off when you're back."

"'f course."

"Come back safe to me, Si. I'll miss you."

His body has muscle memory of everything. The boot camp is significantly easier than he thought it'd be. His muscles remember something he does not, maybe. He treks up and does stellar, ending up personally selected by his managing captain, asked if he ever thought about actually joining the military. He'd suit the SAS. He'd be a great addition to the team, even. He'd get all the military benefits and it doesn't seem like it'd be something that would warrant too much stress for him.

He doesn't know.

Despite his body's ability to survive in such harsh conditions, he finds that he doesn't really want to stay in that state of stress.

When he finishes, his captain hands him a number to call if he ever changes his mind, and he finds you in the crowd. He abandons all the military learning he's received in the last three months just to find himself in your arms once more. He barely cares that the friends he's made are whistling at him as he practically swallows you in his frame. You don't mind. He doesn't mind. It's not a problem.

"'m back."

"Welcome home." You laugh, running your hand through his hair as he buries his face into your shoulder.

"'m missed you."

"I missed you too, Si." You hum, peeking past his shoulder as you wave at his friend. "How was camp?"

"Y'wanna tell me why my body seemed to have no struggle with adaptin?"

You look to the side, whistling as he finally lets go of you, reaching over for his mom, humming as she welcomes him back home with Tommy.

"You have explainin' to do." He points at you, and your parents leave the two of you alone to start on dinner for Simon's return, leaving you in his room as you whistle and avoid his gaze, falling back into his bed with a huff and closing your eyes.

"How was bootcamp?"

"You knew. How did you know."

"I know everything, Si." You close your eyes. "Told you I was a fairy when we were kids."

"Yer less of a fairy and more of father time."

"Who knows. Maybe I'm just cursed with knowledge."

"A curse?"

"Or somethin'." You stare up at his ceiling. "How was bootcamp. Really."

"Offered a spot on the SAS."

"You wanna go?"

Simon turns to stare at you, taking a seat by the floor of the bed as he stares at you, and you turn to face him.

"Y' want me to?"

You stare at him, letting the water in your eyes speak for you.

"Oh, angel. don' cry." He whispers, hand reaching to brush the tears as he frowns. "I wasn' planning to."

"You can go." You mumble. "It's fine. I'm just scared."

"You? Scared?" He pinches your nose, humming quietly as you open your mouth to breathe.

"Yes. Me."

"'m not gonna go. I'll just meet you at uni."

"Simon Riley going to uni?"

"Got a problem with that, angel?" He lets go of your nose when the smile cracks at your face, and you roll over to laugh. "Think I'm too stupid for ya?"

"You wish." You hum. "You think I'd let you fall behind?"

"Never have." He hums, nudging you over as you roll to make space for him on the bed.

"So next cycle? Or are you gonna try somewhere else?"

"Might follow you halfway across the world. You'll fund me, won't ya?"

"Nah. Gonna make you pay rent at least." You swat at his arm playfully as he leans over you, humming as he stares down at you. "Glad your pretty face wasn't ruined."

"Think I'm pretty?"

"Just the lashes."

"Takes too much t' please you." He rolls his eyes, eyes landing on your stomach as your shirt rides up, humming.

"So, did they fuck a lot in the camp? Is it true? Did you guys have a barrack bunny?"

Simon flicks your forehead. "No bunny. yes fucking."

You hold your hands over your mouth, gasping. "tell me more."

"I didn't do anythin'."

"No way."

"Not losing my v-card to a bunch of men in the military."

"Don't know, Si. That sounds like a porno title. Virgin man gets gangbaned by five buff military men... or whatever it is the titles are formatted like."

"'m not even gon' ask how you know that."

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Simon stares.

"'s good to see you again."

"I missed you too." You hum. "I don't mind you going. Really."

"'s my decision to not." He pinches your cheek, glancing at the door as his mother calls for you both to go eat. "I promise."

"Send me to the airport tomorrow?"

"Of course."

You let Simon drive you around before driving you to the airport. You say your goodbyes to your parents at your place, thanking Simon with a grin and a squeeze of his bicep as he lifts all of your luggage into the back of the car. You gasp quietly at the fact that his muscles are harder than before, giving them a second squeeze as he rolls his eyes at you.

"You take that back!"

"Don't know what yer talkin' about."

You don't talk to him too much in the car, too preoccupied with staring out the window. Simon doesn't pry, used to the comfort of your silence when you need it. Besides, you're being sent off to somewhere where you'll be far from him. He wonders if that'll hurt him more or you. You're great, though. You promised you'd write to him, and he's more worried that somehow he will forget to write back to you and you will forget about his existence. You're too far away for comfort.

What if someone else lays eyes on you?

He helps you load the luggage, pulling it with him as you check for your passport, letting Simon put everything down for you, giving his forearm a gentle squeeze in thanks when you arrive with him at the gate. You let him wander around with you before you're supposed to board. He'll wring the final moments you have with him dry, he supposes.

You open your arms for him, squeezing him gently when his arms find themselves around your waist, squeezing you back.

"It's your turn to give me a goodbye kiss." You tap your cheek, tilting your head as you hum, and Simon mumbles under his breath, thumb brushing your bottom lip as he stares down at you for permission.

"You gonna kiss me properly? Real bold of you, Si."

"If you'd let me."

You wrap your arms around his neck, tilting your head as he brushes your bottom lip, staring, staring, staring before letting his lips brush yours gently, softly, and pulling away just as quick. Like a ghost of a kiss — lingering feelings that he can't quite pour out onto you yet because it wouldn't be fair.

"That alright?" He continues to stare at your lips, only snapping out of it when you notice boarding has started.

"More than alright." You reach up to give him a kiss on his cheek, humming as you take two steps back with your luggage. "I'll see you!"

"See you, then."

"Yer gonna let me study abroad without a boyfriend? How cruel of you, Si. Write to me!" You laugh, tugging your carry-on with you as you wave at him from the gate.

Simon stays to stare at you until you've disappeared down the corridor to the plane.

Then, his fingers find his lips where he had kissed you, and then the cheek that you had given him a kiss to.

Ah. He misses you already.

You write to him as promised. You send letters to him and he sends them back, sending you updates on how everyone has been, writing growing more and more illegible with the letters. He wonders if you're able to read everything he sends sometimes, but he eventually sends you a letter with the number slotted into his phone, and when you write to him that you'd be visiting on a certain date, you tell him to pick you up.

The first thing that Simon notices is that you've changed.

Not that you've ever been someone that he's found predictable, but you have changed beyond what Simon can remember from you.

"It's the air." You laugh.

He stares at you, uncertain if he really knows who you are anymore. Was he the one who was being left behind?

You mentioned that you'd never leave him behind.

"Y'sure changed."

"Cultural differences." You open your arms for him, tilting your head when he shakes his head at you.

"'m all smelly from work."

You frown at him.

"Maybe we both changed."

You spend the afternoon lodged at Simon's flat because you didn't want to go home. It's just a week or two, you tell him.

He hands you booze to drink, and you ask him how work has been.

"You still gonna join me?"

"I think I'm alright here."

He fears though, that by doing so, he's going to drift away from you.

"That's good." You grin at him. "If life ever gets too boring, come find me. I'm sure my friends would flip it if some guy who's like a hundred ninety two centimeters tall dropped by and called himself my best friend."

"You talk about me?"

"How could I not?" You tilt your head at him from the passenger seat, blinking slowly. "Si, did you forget about me when I'm gone? It's a little rude of you, you know?"

"I couldn't even if I was killed." He hums. "Your luggage's lighter."

"Mhm. Most of my stuff is with a friend who lives nearby." You grin. "Didn't want you to blow out your back for me."

"Couldn't do that if y' tried."

Simon wonders if there's something in the air when you come back to visit.

"You plan on stayin' there?"

"Maybe." You hum. "I quite like it."

"Leavin' me to fend on my own, huh?"

"It'd be unfair for either of us to do something all for the sake of the other. Your comfort comes before mine." You grin. "Get me a little something to eat?"

"Got dinner at 'ome." He hums. "Your favorite."

"What if it's changed?"

"You can't be sayin' that when you told me less than a month ago."

You laugh in the front seat, grinning.

"Dated yet, Si?"

"No." He hums. "This girl stops by the shop but I don' really like her like that."

"Mm." You tap your chin. "Broken no one in yet?"

Simon coughs at your choice of words, coughing as he catches his breath, your hand patting his back as you laugh.

"Bloody hell."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face when he catches a glance.

"Why? Y'been broken in yet?"

"Nope. Waiting for a certain someone to do the honors."

You laugh at the way he's red for the whole ride back.

Yet, he makes no real move on you back at his place. He hands you a glass of water and settles himself next to you on the couch, letting you show him the variety of items you've brought back to give him, grinning at him when he stares at the strange combination of things.

"Why'd you come back during such a shite time?"

"I wanted to spend the new year with you." You hum, blinking at the snow that's come with the weather.

"You didn't come back during summer."

"No." You close your eyes, throwing your head back. "I wanted to, but I decided not."

"Why."

You kick your legs over his, huffing as you grumble. "It was hard. Flying out the country's hard."

"Cuz of the thing, huh?"

"Yeah." You rest your head on his shoulder, staring out the window. "You got work these days?"

"Nah. Old guy's home with his family. Y' gonna go home?"

"No." You close your eyes. "Didn't tell mom n dad I'd be back."

"Yeah? Just me?"

"Just wanted to see you." You whisper, taking his hand and fiddling with his fingers.

"Y've gotten real handsy since ya left."

"Maybe I just missed you." You mumble. "It's lonely without you."

"Don't love y'er other friends?"

"Love you more." You whisper, finger smooth against his ring finger as you feel him tense up under you.

"Y'love me?"

"Si, I've known you since forever. Of course I do." You rest your hand on top of his, opening your eyes as you whisper.

"Oh, like that."

You don't breach the subject of love further than that, playing with Simon's fingers as he turns on the TV for a match, letting you get comfy with him under a blanket and eventually fall asleep. He stares down at you, voice tight in his throat as he rests his hand on your forearm, heart painful in his chest. Distance has given him no time to think if all he thinks of is you. But, it would be cruel to tell you of something that's long been his problem.

It is not your burden to bear.

It is not your portion to carry.

He rests his eyes as well, the two of you staying that way until late night, Simon first to rouse as he looks out the window.

It is dark outside.

You stir as he does, leaning back onto the couch to stretch out, and kick your legs out, and Simon holds your ankle to push it to the side. The snow creates the illusion of an empty street, and the black and white hurt each other in the lack of light, but you keep staring. It reminds Simon of when you were kids. The staring has since gotten better, but every now and then he catches you staring into nothing.

"Dinner?"

"Sounds good." You kick the blanket off of you, yawning as you follow him to the kitchen. "'m tired."

"Long flight."

"Mhm." You sit at the island, watching as Simon heats the food for you, staring at him as you lean on your palm. "Si, why did you never date?"

"Why should I?"

"Donno."

Simon takes out dinner from the microwave, placing it in front of you as he stares.

"Will y' ever tell me about the staring problem?"

"Probably not." You wiggle your hands comically as you grin.

"Don't do that again."

"So you hate me." You start at dinner anyway, thanking Simon as you chew on the food, scraping the plate in the end when you finish, grinning.

"How's Tommy?"

"Great. Getting engaged soon."

"Ooh! Did you help him pick a ring?"

"No. He went ring shoppin' with his girl." Simon hums.

"Wish you could show me."

"Get dinner with him sometime. I can arrange it. He comes over Friday nights."

"Can't I just grab dinner with him friday night then?"

"Next week?"

"Sure."

"I'll tell him."

"It's Christmas week." You hum. "Did you grab me anything?"

"No." He rolls his eyes. "Dinner wasn' enough?"

You pretend to think, grinning at him when he raises a brow.

"I'm kidding."

"Sure hope you are."

You wake up to a surprise on Christmas anyway, eyes glimmering when Simon serves you breakfast with a gift, kicking your legs as you gush to him about how he didn't need to. You give him a squeeze on his bicep as you ask him if you can unwrap it, pulling at the little ribbon and paper, grinning when you spot the headphones you've written to him about, bottom lip quivering as tears threaten to spill, and Simon rushes to brush them from your cheek, calling you a crybaby while he's at it.

"I should give something back to you."

"Yer back, hm? That's m' gift."

"But I like being with you too." You mumble, hand finding his as your thumb brushes his. "D'you want anything? Anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

Simon stares down at your lips, humming as he raises a brow.

"Truly?"

"Use my body or whatever. I trust you." Your voice quiets the more you speak. "I'm all yours."

"Tell me to stop whenever." Simon's thumb finds your bottom lip, brushing it as he presses his lips to yours — hungry, decades of holding back overflowing and spilling into you, hands gripping the counter til his knuckles turn white, tongue shoved down your throat and a hum in his as you pant once he pulls off of you, staring as your eyes haze over and your chest rises and falls, lips parted as you blink to come back to him, bottom lip glossy from his saliva as he brushes it once more. "y'still with me, angel?"

"Mhm." You hum. "You sure you didn't go around kissing others while I was gone?"

"On my life."

"Surprising." You reach up to cup his face, thumb brushing his bottom lip as you hum. "Only ever kissed me, hm? Only wanna kiss me?"

"Bloody hell, what did going to uni teach ya?"

You laugh, humming as you squeeze his face. "How to flirt, apparently. 's it working?"

"No."

The red of his ears betray him.

You're everything except the title, Simon finds. You barely bother hiding the fact that he's allowed to do whatever with you, lounging on his couch and sticking by him at every moment, barely bothering to hide your boredom with the TV and working your knuckles into his back instead. He doesn't need to look to know you've got a shit-eating grin on your face when he groans as you work out a knot in his back.

"Yer real tight, Si."

"Yer pickin' up my accent."

"Maybe it's cuz I love you." You dig your elbow into the muscle, earning a groan from his lips.

"At this point yer just messin' with me."

"Maybe." You hum, exhaling when the knot's released itself, and you collapse on his back, grumbling.

"Get off 'me."

"Don't call me heavy, big guy." You sigh, peeling yourself off of him anyway, falling back to the other arm of the couch.

"You got knots?"

"Don't think so. Sure you're not gonna get hard all pressed up on my ass, Si?"

"Said you were free use f'r the week."

"Didn't think you'd jump to fuck me like that." You settle on your stomach anyway, letting Simon run his hands along your back, oil warm on his hands as you settle with watching whatever's on the telly (it's a football game. you're not the biggest fan, but better than thinking about the fact that you're practically moaning and squirming under Simon. You can't run from the consequences of your actions forever).

Simon fights every bone in his body to not spill over and take things too far, jaw clenched as he brushes the knot from your shoulder, pushing his thumb into it as you whimper. He hears you bite your tongue, and fight back a moan, and it almost comforts him to know that you're not too far off either. Though, he doesn't mention anything when you swat at him to stop, rolling over to lay on your back, staring up at him through your lashes, humming as he stares down at you.

"Minx."

"Freak." You laugh, chest shaking as you grin, eyes crinkling as he presses his hands on your waist, thumb pressing down to your ribs, humming quietly.

"If I were a cut of meat—"

"What fuckin' nonsense are you askin' now?"

"Entertain me, won't you?"

"I wouldn't cut you up."

"You'd eat me raw?!"

"'m no cannibal, angel."

"Just say you won't fuck me."

You're pushing buttons, Simon finds. You're testing to see how much it'll take for him to crumble and snap in your hands. Your hand rubs at his bicep in the mornings when you pass him, cheek squished with his as you point while windowshopping, fingers laced with his as though you were really on a date, and Simon finds that it's hard to fight the red that ruins the pale of his skin, crackling between the cracks of his skin from the winter cold, forced to play it off as the fact that it is cold out. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze back when you ask him to enter a store, and he tugs you back when you're wandering off course.

"Did yer cough start this year?"

"Not yet." You hum. "Worried I'm gonna get you sick?"

"No. Worried you don't like the flavors where you are."

"You remember." You mumble, staring as he hands you the stick from the grocery bag.

"Hard to forget."

"Not when it's only mentioned in passing."

You take the stick anyway, unwrapping one and pressing it to your lips, sucking on it as you squeeze at his arm, puffer coat zipped all the way up as you head back to his place.

Simon doesn't snap the entire time that you're back for the week.

He knows you're trying to get him too, but he's probably held back more than you have over the years, so not much really moves him to do anything anymore. You can try all you want, but truly, you can't do all that much.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Simon raises a brow from the island, blinking at you as you stare back at him.

"Not in the sex way. Just. Like when we were kids."

"You finally gonna tell me what all that staring you did as a kid meant?"

"Maybe." You place the dishes into the dishwasher, blinking slowly as you turn around to stare at Simon. "But I don't think you'd believe me."

"I'd argue against that. Can't tell me something insane."

"Oh, I'm sure." You mumble. "I'm sure you'd believe some made up war story from a world in the past."

"Is that what it was?"

"I don't know." You blink slowly, taking off the gloves and letting them dry as Simon stares. stares. stares.

Past your eyes and through your soul, like you're just a piece on display. Like he knows something you don't. He doesn't. Simon knows better than anyone that despite every single cell of his body crying for him to pour himself to devote to you, you would never accept it. You wouldn't. You wouldn't let him "throw his future away" all for the sake of you. Something stops you from letting him devote himself to him, and something stops you from just accepting that maybe Simon wants it and it isn't a side effect of being friends for so long.

There's a constant need to take care of him better than he takes care of you.

Simon finds it in the way you hand him a mug of water before bed, throwing the blanket over the two of you, flashlight resting between the two of you as you blink at him.

"You gon' tell me?"

"No." You hum. "But I'll tell you another secret if you tell me one. You first, though."

Simon doesn't keep secrets from you other than the fact that he loves you.

"I don' have any."

"None at all?"

"I tell you everything."

You blink at him from under the covers, tilting your head.

"Everything?"

Almost.

"Thinkin' 'bout signing up SAS." He whispers, voice cracking as he watches the grief crack past your eyes and your face drop. You don't mention anything, telling him it's fine as you collect yourself, swallowing everything back and smiling again.

"Yeah?"

"Thinkin' bout it."

"You gonna go? Really?" You whisper — scared. Simon knows you enough to be able to sense when you're scared. It's rare you even display such an honest emotion to him.

"Why don't you want me to?"

"No, it's just." You shake your head. "'m being paranoid. I'm just upset that I might not get to see you again."

"I'll see you between missions."

"I'm out of the country, Si." You mumble. "I can't visit all the time."

"I know." He mumbles. "but I've got to do sumthin 'n if not this, then I don' know what."

You rest your head against his chest, voice quiet as he runs his hand through your hair, pressing down to get you to relax for him.

"'m thinking about settling down permanently there."

Ah.

Simon seems to understand why you'd be so panicked at his enlistment. Truly, he wouldn't get to see you again, maybe. He'd be busy and if you start work, then you wouldn't get to see him at all. You can't write back to him if he's moving around, and his phone would most likely be off-limits in the service. Too little to do. Too little to hold on to. Maybe that is what you have feared.

"I'll tell you one more secret, then, Si." You mumble, hands finding his chest as you close your eyes.

"'s it, angel?"

"Tommy's gonna get married to her and then they're gonna have a boy." You close your eyes, and Simon feels you furrow your brows against his chest. "He's gonna be named Joseph. Joseph Riley. Sweet boy. Lovely, even."

"Why are you telling me this."

"Just." You whisper. "Just remember that."

You don't respond, going quiet for the rest of the trip, only giving him a hug at the airport and waving goodbye. You leave him your new address, smiling at him.

Simon doesn't know if he likes the silence he's left with when you're gone from his flat.

Yet, he's gone anyway, sending you letters that you can never quite send back, always too close or too far. He mails small things that remind him of you — tucks a photo of you into his helmet, stares up at the stars when it's night with a smoke between his fingers (that you'd scold him for) while the rest of the team joins him. He climbs up ranks — never stops writing to you. During the few times he has off, he returns to the empty flat and wonders how you're doing. You don't write back to him.

He wonders if you get his letters at all.

Yet, he can't stop to think. He can't stop. He just.

He becomes a Lieutenant.

When he's asked if he'd like someone to be at the ceremony, he briefly wonders if you'd fly over for him.

He doesn't ask you.

His feelings aren't yours to deal with.

Tommy and his mother help him pin it, but he'd wish that the hands promoting him to a higher position was you. It's to prove to you. It's to prove to you that he's fine and alive. Maybe it holds the same sentiment as when he writes to you. He's still alive, angel. He's still in one piece, even if you can't write back to him. He wonders if you still live there. Are his letters meeting a stone wall? Is it a brick wall that stands between the two of you? He'd break it down, but he doesn't want to risk the chances of you getting hurt in the crumble.

He returns home for Christmas one year, wondering if you'd be home. Tommy mentions sending you a wedding invite through Simon, and he stares. Really. Just stares at the wedding invitation. He doubts you'd answer. You feel like a ghost of his past. It's almost as if you had known that he'd never see you again when you had spent a winter with him. Like you knew. Like you wish he knew. Like when you pulled him under the blankets with a flashlight, you had known, maybe, that he'd be gone and you'd be gone.

When he sends the letter to the address you gave him, he almost worries that Tommy won't get a response back. (He slips an additional letter asking you if you'd like to be his plus one, but he doesn't have much faith that you'll respond to that one.)

Then, he's off and back to the military.

You meet him at Tommy's wedding.

You find him in the crowd, eyes lighting up as you sit next to him in the crowd, chattering excitedly about how you finally get to see him again. He listens to you talk. You've changed — as one does, and he has as well. Yet, he doesn't mind the change this time. You seem the same as before, sparkling eyes, only a little more mature. You look less like a kid and more like an adult now. You look pretty as you ever are.

"Missed you so much." You mumble. "So so much. Love reading your letters. Please never stop writing to me."

"You read em but won't send responses to my flat?"

"You didn't sell it?"

Simon shakes his head.

"Then I will. I'll write back to your flat." You mumble. "I just worry that your mailbox will overflow."

"Tommy takes care of it."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Alright." You grin. "You got a phone when you're off duty?"

He shakes his head.

"We'll stick to letters, then."

You sit with Simon at dinner. The wedding is nice. You're nice. Simon missed you, and he almost wants to ask if you've got a booking for somewhere because apparently you had tugged along with you a luggage when you first arrived and left it at the front for safekeeping. Maybe you'll ask him. It wouldn't be strange if you did. He has a day off, but you're more than welcome to stay as long as you want in his flat. He'll get you a copy of his key, even.

Maybe you'll give him a copy of yours next. He'd like to visit sometime.

"Si." You whisper, nudging him gently with the tip of your heel.

"Hm?"

"You got space in your flat?"

"I'll give y' a copy of the key. I gotta get back in the mornin'"

"You only took a day off?"

"'s just a weddin', no?"

"It's Tommy's wedding."

"Still a weddin', angel."

"Oh, should I be worried that you'll only take a day off for our wedding?" You squeeze his arm as you wave at Tommy and his bride.

Simon blinks at you.

"Y' did not just say that."

"Hm?" You tilt your head at him. "D'ya stop lovin' me over our break?"

"Who said I ever loved y'a?"

"The voices." You let go of his arm, going back to the food.

Simon takes you home after you get plastered at Tommy's wedding. He's never seen you drink so much, but to be fair, you didn't drink all that much last time you were at his flat. You seem like nothing to him as he carries you, letting you hang off of his shoulder as he brings you up the stairs, raising a brow at you when you beeline for his bathroom and throw up over the toilet.

"Regret drinkin' yet?"

"No." You rasp. "Fuck, no. Can't get alcohol this good where I'm stuck."

"Thought you loved it there."

"I only love being next to you." You start again, Simon sitting by your side as he holds your hair up. "Fuckin' hell."

"Yer slurrin' your speech, angel."

"Speakin' like you." You huff, crying. "I missed you, Si. Really did."

"Missed y' too."

You rest your palm against your forehead, eyes closed as you whimper. "'s lonely without you."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." You mumble. "Thought I could take it again."

"Again?"

"Again." You whisper. "And again. Si, I'm not made for casual I'm made for soul crushing devotion. God, I need to move on already. Why's it so hard to move on?"

"F'rm who?"

You turn to him, eyes glossy and red as you let out a laugh— pathetic. Almost as though you were laughing at yourself.

"'m not gonna come clean about that, Si."

"Never?"

"Maybe when you get married." You bend over the toilet again, closing your eyes.

"Though' it was we?"

You laugh. "If you survive."

"You always know somethin', angel."

"Hard not to." You throw your head back, furrowing your brows as you focus on breathing. "I'd like for it to stop, though."

"And how would that happen?"

"Can't. Cursed with the knowledge. Wish you could just fuck it out of me, honest."

You wake up to the worst hangover of your life — head cracking open down the middle as you sit up and rub at your neck, groaning as you stretch your back. Getting plastered at Tommy's wedding was probably not worth it.

"Hey." Simon hands you a bowl of soup, and you whimper as you press it to your lips, drinking.

"Thought you had to go."

"You looked like shite when y' went to bed."

You huff. "So you stayed back?"

"If not me then who?"

"I could've handled it."

"Wouldn' have wanted y'to." He hums. "Wiped your face down last night."

"Thank you, Si." You mumble. "You angel."

"All you."

"No. Not this time." You close your eyes. "Did I tell you anything?"

"Said you thought y'could take being alone again."

He leaves out the part where you had cried about him fucking you.

"Oh." You mumble. "'m just lonely."

Without him.

"Would you let me visit?"

"Shall I give you a spare as well?" You tilt your head. "Or do you want to do it classic style and break into my place?"

"A spare would be nice."

"Okie dokes." You hum. "You can go back in the afternoon. I feel much better."

"Won't let me stay longer?"

"I'd assume you can only stay for so long."

"Can ask for longer. The captain'll get it."

"You don't need to, Si."

"Thought y'missed me?"

"I do."

"Then let me stay. Allow yourself tha' much."

"Yeah?"

He nods.

You let him.

He sticks behind and wanders around with you, following after you with your bags as you point and shop, squeezing Simon gently, stopping halfway to feed him, your fingers nimble on your new device as you click.

"A cell phone?"

"Mhm." You rummage through your bag, frowning when there's a lack of something. "Forgot it."

"Forgot what?"

"I'll give it to you later."

You end up leaving it on Simon's bedside — something he returns to after deployment, brow raised as he reads through the album and the songs you've burned down for him. The letter you tuck behind the tracklist doesn't go unnoticed, Simon's first letter greeting him in the house from you as he looks through the rest of his mail. You've started writing back. Blue and black envelopes stick out from the whites of formal mail, and he flips through them, your writing familiar to his eyes as he sits back with a cup of water, reading through your responses to what he writes to you.

It helps ground him sometimes.

His letters are most certainly darker than yours. You report about what you've been working on in school, sending him tickets to your graduation later in the year. You tell him that it doesn't really matter if he doesn't attend, but you wanted to give it to him anyway. The extra ticket is in case he actually found someone in the military to bring as a plus one.

It wounds Simon that you'd think he wouldn't stick with you.

He writes back to you, marking down your graduation and taking the day off in advance with his captain, nodding when asked if it's the same person he took the week off for last time.

"Must really love 'er, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Got a ring on it?"

"No, sir."

"Better move quick, Simon. Yer at the age where dating's all the storm."

Simon wonders if you'd agree to do long distance if he can't call you all that much.

You deserve someone who'll at least be there for you when you need it.

Yet, he lingers a little too long in front of the jewelry store, battered and bruised face in the reflection of the glass, staring himself in the eye as he wonders just why you had called him pretty back then. He's hardly pretty now. Mangled upper lip and scratches on his cheek — there is no trace of the "pretty" you had once called him. Though, his lashes stay the same, so he wonders if you'll still recognize if the only thing visible are his eyes.

He stares for a second too long at the jewelry store, stepping in and looking for something you'd like.

A ring.

"A nice dramatic gem for the engagement ring" you had told him once. Yet, despite it all, the sketches you had drawn for him had been a moderate gem. A ring that would remind you of how much he loves you — it had been a simple request. Even without the title of it all. You did not need to know what you were and what you weren't. If you had the certainty that one day the two of you would end up together anyway, then why waste the effort and consider or think over other people?

Simon understands you a little more now.

"Custom. If y'do 'em."

He pulls out the sketches you made as a child. Messy and childish ones — ones where it's a moonstone or pearly, never a diamond, and ones where Simon's handwriting as a child are visible to leave ideas for his own. You did not know. He did not either. But there's something quite assuring in just knowing. Simon knows you love him. It's quite a simple thing, really. You love him in the letters you write back, painful detail down to the point and making sure not to miss a thing. You love him in the trips where you're back, refusing to book a hotel and squeezing into his flat with him, limbs tangled in an intimacy that you've both grown comfortable in.

Simon loves you too. He loves you in the simplicity of having grown up with you — in the hair held up as you throw up, and in staying back when you won't let him but you need him. He loves you quietly the same way you love him. It's quite simple, really. It doesn't matter if you won't marry him or that you deserve someone better than Simon. All that really matters is that you want him, and he wants you too. There isn't too much other thinking he should do. You've always been more simple like that.

He writes you a letter back, asking if you want any particular flowers (not that he'll get the chance to read what you want).

He'll know what to get you when the time comes.

There's a sense of stability that Simon's learned to realize now that he's older or whatever. Settling down with you and retiring from the military won't kill him. He'll just open a nice little shop by where you live if he has to. You won't let him, but you trust him enough to let him make his own decisions now. It doesn't matter what you refuse to tell him. Time will tell him, and then eventually, you'll be honest. He just has to have faith or whatnot.

He brings the ring to your graduation, sitting in the back with your family, catching up with them. He wears a mask to hide the scars on his face and whatnot, but nothing outside of it. There's a sense of age that's crept up with him, and something weighs on his shoulders, but you'll work it out of him like you always have. Seeing you in your robes and throwing your hat is more than enough to let him forget for a moment.

There's a long life of him ahead on the battlefield if he decides upon it. He'd like something to go home to or meet up with halfway.

Preferably you.

He tucks the bouquet under his arm with the box in his pocket, meeting you halfway as you spot him in the crowd of people immediately, his name yelled and your friends abandoned for him, launching yourself into his arms as he catches you with an arm, humming as you squeeze his biceps, eyes lit up as you ramble to him. He watches you, eyes gentle and warm as his mind reminds him that yes, this is what bliss is to him. Simple, easy, bliss.

"Got you flowers."

"Yeah?" You tilt your head, grinning as he presents them to you. "Can we get dinner at mine later? I'd go to the grad party but I missed you a whole lot and you probably have a hotel so—"

"You'll host me?"

"I live alone."

"Tha's unsafe, angel."

"So?"

"You wan' me to pick?"

"Nah. Takeout at my place, but I'll get to say I have dinner plans."

"And your parents?"

"They'll understand." You glance at the flowers. "You tryna tell me something with the single rose amongst all those yellows? Ooh, white carnations..."

"Maybe I am."

"You've gotten bold, Si." You laugh, squeezing his forearm as your parents spot you. "I'll send you my address. Love you lots, kay? See you in a bit."

Simon bends down to press his lips to your forehead, humming as he sends you off with a pat.

You seem to know too.

He enters with the spare key you keep buried in the depths of the crevice of a window, setting his luggage down as he reads your texts about where to stay and put his stuff. You live comfortably. He understands why you wouldn't want to move. His flat is significantly less impressive than this, yet you stayed with him every time. Considering it all, you probably could've just bought out a flat next to him if you really wanted to.

Maybe there is love in the way you simply choose to exist the way you do.

You return home a little later, makeup smudged and messy as you tell him you ended up in the backseat with some friends, but you managed to get home in one piece. You abandon the robe and hat, shaking out the bobby pins as you recite the local pizza place to Simon, pulling out a drawer with your makeup remover as you do.

It feels oddly domestic.

"Wh'd'ya want?"

"Just tell em my name. They know my order. Oh, tell 'em to make it a combo this time. You can ask them what options they have. I like the wings, but their salad isn't bad."

"This what you've been livin' off of in uni?"

"Maybe." You pause to yawn, shaking the bottle and pulling out cotton pads to get everything off. "They're good though, I promise."

"Trust you." He dials.

You're not wrong.

Simon sits with you on your couch as you tangle limbs with him, pulling the pizza out and letting the cheese stretch as you do, your TV turned on as you let him watch the game.

"Si, what do you think about me moving back?"

"Why? Y'live comfortable here."

"It's lonely without you."

"Yeah?" He reaches down to rub circles on your knee with his free hand. "Y'er so much better off here, though."

"We can just get a new place in Manchester." You lick your fingers, reaching for another slice. "I'll buy it. It can be a dowry or whatever."

"I couldn't let y' do that, angel."

"Why not?" You raise a brow. "I'm willing to."

"Then let me take care of utilities."

"If y'want."

Simon slides his hand up your leg, squeezing your thigh gently as you turn to look at him, pizza crumbs on the corner of your lips as he fishes something out from his pocket.

"If yer willin'—"

"Oh, hell, yes. Please." You grin.

"At least le' me finish."

"Sorry, Si." You hum. "Shall we reroll and rerecord?"

"'s fine." He hums, opening the box as he squeezes your thigh, humming quietly as he presents the ring to you.

"I can't promise bein' in bed with you every night, but I can promise an eternity of the time I have that is my own with you." He hums. "I'll come back to you in one form or another. I'll leave if y'want it. Anything you ask for, I will give. Marry me, angel?"

"Will I be upgraded to luvie if I do?"

"Anythin' y' want. Missus Riley, even."

"It's a yes, Si. Always a yes. Thought it was obvious when I said our wedding at Tommy's." You hum. "Let me wash my hands, though. Got crumbs and oil all over 'em."

"I'll wipe the ring down later. Gimme y'er hand."

You lick your ring finger, giving Simon your hand as he presses a kiss to the finger, delicate, gentle, soft before sliding the ring on.

"Looks real familiar." You observe the design, pausing when it hits you. "Did you keep the drawing I made back in Year 7??"

"Surprised y'noticed."

Your bottom lip quivers, tears welling in your eyes as Simon reaches to hold your head to his chest, humming as you wipe at the tears, chest shaking from laughter.

"Yer so stupid." You laugh, folding the last of your pizza and finishing it in a bite. "y'er such a bloke."

Simon pokes at your cheek, your hand flying up to swat at his as he hums.

"Yer bloke."

"Guh."

Two months later, Simon returns to help you move.

You sell the majority of your furniture and tell him you've got your eye on a nice little place a little more outskirt, but he tells you to pick where you'll be comfortable. He truly only needs to come home to you and it'll be enough. You kick at him and tell him at least to tell you whether it should be a flat or a townhouse or whatever. He settles with you as the two of you look into an agent, and eventually you find a place you both like to some extent.

You move back home to Simon, and you blink as you settle into the new place, keys in your hand as you squeeze Simon. You're back on the couch, legs kicked over his as your thumbs brush at his cheeks, staring.

“Heard Tommy’s baby is coming soon”

“Mhm.”

“Did they pick a name?”

Simon raises a brow at you when you tilt your head and blink.

“Joseph, luvie. Joseph.”

You laugh, cheeks warm as Simon hums.

"Yer still pretty as ever, Si."

"Even with the mangled lip?"

"Adds flavor." You grin. "Funny that we haven't gone on a proper date yet."

"Y'wanna go on a date? Bring your documents. We're off to get the civil ceremony."

"Wow, really can't wait f'r me to become Missus Riley, huh?"

"Waited long enough. 'm sure you've waited longer." He mumbles. "A whole life, even."