#yeah i ended up combining two of my series into one for this

[cryscendo]

the ABCs of KEH: D IS FOR… DAD

I don't believe in God, Dad. But I believe in you and I believe in us. You and me, that's what's sacred to me.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Dirty Laundry

Summary: Life with two toddlers has taken a toll on your sex life for the past few weeks, but after a surprisingly calm morning, you and Javi find a creative solution to solve your problem.

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) vaginal fingering, paise kink, a breeding kink so dangerous that you may get pregnant just from reading, creampie, cum play, a loud washer and dryer, no actual laundry accomplished, domestic girl dad Javi, you'll always be famous

A/N: idk who unlocked my cell while I was ovulating, but once again I have escaped, and once again, we're makin' babies. I think I've convinced myself I don't know how to write anything else, and for that, I am genuinely sorry. If wanting to give Javier Peña a football team worth of kids is a crime, then lock me up and throw away the goddamn key 🤠

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

For as much as you loved your daughters, it was safe to say that for the past two weeks, your pair of rambunctious toddlers had been doing very little for your sex life. 

Your 4 year old Lucy had been going through a phase of having nightmares every night, and somehow ending up in you and Javi’s bed no matter what you tried. That, combined with trying to potty train your 2 year old, Elliot, (who was nowhere close to being the breeze her older sister it was when it came to the matter), on top of preschool, work, and life in general, you and Javi had barely gotten so much as a kiss in, let alone some quality time together. 

It had been your hope to start trying for baby number three, but after 2 months of negative pregnancy tests and another month of complete chaos, despite your best intentions, “trying” had very much taken a backseat in your mental to-do list.  

But this morning when you woke up, it was almost as if a wave of calm had washed over your house to reset the state of disarray you had been in the past few weeks- Both girls had slept through the night in their own beds, had woken up in good spirits, Elliot asked to use the bathroom multiple times, and both had been happy to play in the living room together quietly as you worked on catching up on some much needed laundry. 

So calm, in fact, that Javi was almost worried when he came downstairs for work to hear near silence, apart from the occasional giggles from the girls as they arranged their Fisher Price Little People in their Play Barn and the washer running in the background. 

“Hi Daddy!” Lucy cooed, toddling over to her dad, wrapping her arms around his waist as Elliot quickly followed behind, perching on his leg like a koala. 

“Buenos días, niñas. (Good morning, girls).” Javi grinned, squatting down to kiss the wild, sleepy curls of his daughters’ heads, still slightly confused by the tranquil state of the house. “Where’s Momma?” 

“Washing stinky socks.” Lucy giggled, pinching her nose and scrunching her face, pretending to have smelled something bad. 

“Yeah, stinky socks.” Elliot echoed, sticking out her tongue. 

“Oh yeah? Is it because my pollitas (little chickens) have stinky, smelly feet?” Javi teased, wrapping his arms around the girls, pulling them close to his chest as he tickled their sides, the three erupting in laughter and giggles. 

“What’s goin’ on out here, huh?” You grinned, stepping out of the laundry room with your arms playfully crossed against your chest to see your husband and daughters in a tickle tackle pile on the living room floor. 

“Daddy said we have stinky feet! Daddy’s got stinky feet, not me and Elliot.” Lucy protested. 

“I think you and Daddy both have stinky feet, Lucy Lu, and your dirty laundry proves it.” You smiled, watching Javi give one last big kiss to each of the girls before pushing up off the floor with a grunt, making his way over to you. “Good morning, Mr. Stinky Feet.” 

“Hey, c’mon now. I can’t have you all gangin’ up on me.” Javi pouted through his smirk, wrapping his arm around your waist as his lips softly met yours, his words sweet and low as they danced against your skin. “Good morning, Hermosa.” 

His kiss lingered just long enough to send butterflies swirling through your stomach, biting down on your lip to try and keep your heart beating any faster than it already was. You stood there for another moment, eyes locking with his as the grip around your waist tightened just subtly enough to hint his mind was in the same place as yours. 

You were finding a way to finally have sex this morning. 

You could feel the arousal already beginning to pool in your core, swallowing hard as Javi tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at you while his hand slid further down your waist towards your ass, trying to devise a plan for the two of you to be alone long enough to do what you had both been so desperately craving these past few weeks. 

As you turned your head back over your shoulder in search of ideas, a devilish grin spread across your face, looking back to Javi to gently tug on the maroon tie dangling from his neck, twisting the end through your fingers. 

“I think I really need help with the laundry before you leave for work.” You mewled, leaning in to press another kiss to his plush lips, followed by another on his cheek and neck, Javi letting a soft groan rumble in his chest. 

“Oh Fuck, baby. What do we do about the girls?” He asked quietly, trying his best to keep his composure as the dark brown of his eyes grew hungrier with want. 

“Snack and a movie? There’s already a baby monitor out in the living room, and if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, it should buy us enough time.” You nodded in reassurance of your own idea, already growing antsy with anticipation. 

“God, I love you.” Javi smirked, giving you one more kiss and a firm squeeze of your ass before breaking away towards the kitchen so you could execute your plan. 

“Hey girls?” you called, making your way towards the living room where they were back to playing, “Daddy needs to help Mommy with some, um- laundry. So if we put on “The Little Mermaid”, can you show us what big girls you are and let you watch the movie all by yourselves?” You asked, doing your best to play up your request. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” Elliot squealed, clapping and stomping her feet. “Wittle Mermaid!” 

“Okay, go get your blankets and sit on the couch and Daddy’s gonna bring you a snack to watch the movie with.” 

“Yay! Movie time, movie time!” Lucy shrieked as the girls ran to go grab their things, plopping themselves on to the respective corners of the couch. While you searched for the VHS in the entertainment center, Javi returned from the kitchen with two much bigger than needed bowls of Teddy Grahams, turning on the TV as you pushed the tape into the receiver and pressed play. 

With the bright blue Disney logo appearing across the screen and your daughters both happily snuggled with their snacks on the sofa, you and Javi gave each other the silent nod of approval, slowly backing away towards the laundry room while the girls sat in content and entranced silence. 

After one last peek, you carefully closed and locked the laundry room door behind you, quickly followed by turning on both the washing machine and the dryer, trying to do yourself any favors you could by drowning out any suspicious sounds.  

“Good?” Javi asked once more for reassurance, feeling his slacks get tighter and tighter around his crotch by the second as he waited for your response. 

Without a single word, your lips were crashing into his, a messy dance of tongues and teeth ensuing between you as your bodies bumped against the laundry room counter, limbs tangled together in a frantic race to remove clothes. 

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed this.” Javi groaned, helping you slide your top over your head and unclip your bra as he nipped at your neck, pushing your back against the dryer and caging your body under him. 

“I know, baby, me t-too.” You whimpered, reaching out to undo Javi’s belt buckle, shoving his pants down to his thighs, followed by his boxers, freeing his cock as it slapped against the dark hairs on the happy trail of his stomach. “Missed having your big dick inside me.” 

“Fuck.” Javi swore under his breath as you reached out to stroke him, swiping your thumb over his weeping tip to rub the precum up and down his shaft as he shoved your the waistband of your pants and underwear down your hips just far enough to let them fall to the floor around your ankles. 

As much as you both desperately wanted to take your time, worshiping every inch of each other’s bodies until you had nothing left to give, you knew time was not on your side. After a few more strokes, you pulled back, letting Javi snake his hand against your body to slide between your legs, the slightest graze of his fingertips already making you shutter with need. 

At this point, even after the few weeks it had been without Javi inside you, you were wet enough that you could have taken him without any warm up, your core dripping with your arousal to the point it was smearing the inside of your thighs with its shiny coating. But even with your cunt soaking wet and time working against you, Javi couldn’t help but drag his fingers through your folds, curling to push up into your tight hole and prod against your g-spot. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so wet. This all for me, Momma? Missed me fillin’ you up with my cock? Missed me fucking you full of my cum, huh baby?” Javi growled, his words shooting straight to your cunt, making you clamp down tighter around his fingers and your clit throb with intensity.  

It had been a minute since baby making had been at the forefront of your mind, but his question set off something animalistic in the both of you, knowing that right now could give you a chance at baby number three that you had been wishing for. 

“Y-yes, Javi, fuck- want you to fill me up, baby. Want you to fill me up until you fuck a baby into me.” 

It was then that Javi couldn’t have been more thankful that you had turned on the washer and dryer to try and drown out your noise, because the groan he let escape from his parted lips was much louder than he intended. 

But then again, there were few things in this world that turned him on more than you begging him to knock you up, so what did he expect? 

Scooping his arms under your thighs, Javi hoisted you on top of the dryer, your ass hitting the cold, vibrating metal with a thud as your lips collided again with desperate ferocity, muffled moans escaping from your mouths. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Want me to knock you up again, Momma? Give you another baby?” Javi smirked, reaching to line his cock up with your entrance, swiping his tip through your folds to collect your slick and coat it along his length before he pushed inside you, sinking deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, hips flush with yours. 

Words couldn’t describe how much you had missed the sweet stretch and sting of Javi’s fullness, each inch of him feeling better than the last, sobbing out as his tip kissed your cervix, all inhibitions of self-composure completely tossed out the window. Still sunk deep in your cunt, Javi’s hand shot over your mouth, stifling your cries in his palm. 

“Shhhhhh, I know, Osita. You gotta keep quiet though, baby.” 

You nodded frantically in compliance, Javi’s hand dropping to grip around your waist as you tried to catch your breath. “M-move, Javi, please.” Your whimpering request borderlining pathetic with how badly you needed him. 

“You promise you’re gonna be a good girl and keep quiet?” 

“Mhmmmm. I promise, baby, please.” 

With that, Javi’s hips began to snap, dragging his cock in and out of you at a dangerous pace, coating the walls with the sounds of the wet sounds of your cunt and slapping skin, muffled by the washer and dryer. 

“Oh my God, Javi. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, locking your legs behind the small of Javi’s back, keeping him as close to you as possible as he fucked in and out of you. You draped your arms around his shoulders, fingers burying themselves in the dark curls at the nape of his neck. 

The closeness had the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against your clit, adding to the tension beginning to build at the base of your spine, both of you knowing it wouldn’t take long to get where you needed to go after weeks without being able to have each other like this. 

Javi could feel it too, his balls beginning to tense with each pump, using every ounce of self control to keep from preemptively spilling into you, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, holding on to you like his life depended on it. 

“Jesus, Fuck- Fuck, I missed this tight little pussy so much. Gonna cum so deep inside you. So deep it’s gotta fucking take. God, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant. I swear I’ll give you as many babies as you want, Hermosa.” Javi babbled, biting down on his lip as he pounded into you, reaching one of his hands down to circle at your wet, puffy clit, aching to be relieved from all the built up tension. 

At this point, you were so drunk on pleasure that you could barely remember your own name, feeling your orgasm begin to build through every inch of your body in a way that had you seeing stars, digging your fingernails into Javi’s shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out his name, forcing yourself to whisper incoherent sweet nothings against his skin. 

“P-please, Javi. F-fill me up. Oh shit- Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” 

Javi’s thrusts became sloppier and more erratic, fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect amount of pressure to coax your orgasm out of you before he followed suit, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow in intense concentration. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over me. Soak my fucking cock before I fuck you full of me and knock you up. C’mon, Momma.” 

Suddenly, your orgasm crashed through you, lighting your body up like a goddamn Christmas tree, every inch of your body radiating with bliss as you clamped down around Javi’s cock, biting down on his shoulder as you came to try and stifle your cries. 

Javi was only moments behind you, letting out a low grunt with the final sutter of his hips as he came, coating your walls with his warm spend, fucking it into with every ounce he had left until he had milked himself dry. 

Your bodies collapsed into each other, rising and falling in sync with heavy breaths like you had just finished the last mile of a marathon and collapsed at the finish line, damp and sticky with your sweat. 

As much as Javi didn’t want to pull out, he could feel his cock beginning to soften and the mixture of your spend leaking from your hole. Refusing to let a drop go to waste, he pulled out of you, a groan rumbling low in his chest as he wrapped his hand around his length, dragging his tip up through your folds and collecting the cum that had been dripping out. Taking the wet mess he had gathered with his cock, he pushed himself back into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you, a devilish smirk spreading across his face at the absolutely obscene sound coming from between your legs. 

“Promise me,” Javi gulped between pants, finally pulling out of you again, “Promise we never go this long without having sex again. Holy Fuck.” 

“Promise.” You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement, coming down from your blissed out high. “God, that was the longest two weeks ever. Don’t know why we didn’t think of this sooner.” 

“Because we’ve been sleep deprived and exhausted, and our little monstros (monsters) have been giving us a run for our money.” Javi chuckled, reaching behind you to grab a towel from the cabinet above the dryer, quickly rinsing it in the sink before wiping you up and helping you find all of your clothes. 

“Are we crazy for wanting another one?” You asked, looking down at your stomach, thinking about the ramifications of what you had just done. 

“Maybe. But you drive me so fucking crazy, we may end up with 10 before you know it.” 

“Javi! Dear lord, we are not having 10 kids, you psycho.” You laughed, playfully slapping your husband on the shoulder. 

“Stop being so hot and I’ll stop knockin’ you up.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as you rolled your eyes at him knowing damn well you’d have a whole army of his kids if he really wanted. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Alright, you need to get your ass to work and I need to feed the gremlins before I drop Lucy off at preschool. Let’s go, cowboy.” You grinned, playfully smacking Javi on the ass, giving him a quick kiss as you made your way towards the door. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Osita. I gotta remember to call my dad on the way into work.” 

“Call your dad? Why?” 

“To see if Abuelo can take the girls this weekend so you and I can catch up on a lot of laundry.” 

Taglist:

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@purpleprincess75

[its-avalon-08]

Ok so this is a bit unique tbh, but can you write a story about being alexandra saint mleux's sister can falling for lando norris??? like you love charles and alex because THEYRE SO CUTE and u end up falling for lando. include alot of fluff anf cuteness. Thanks!

stop it ily so much for this! i adore adore adore charles and alexandra and omg have u seen his recent post? because leo the puppy u are ily so much what the heck! ok so here is my attempt at making this AMAZING request come true!

paddock love (ln4)

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y/n watched with a grin as charles spun her sister alexandra around in a clumsy waltz, their laughter echoing through the posh monegasque apartment. "ugh, you two are giving me cavities," you teased, collapsing onto a plush sofa.

alexandra, cheeks flushed, swatted playfully at charles. "mind you, y/n, you could find yourself a love story in the paddock too, you know."

you scoffed. "yeah, right. like any f1 driver has time for a normal person like me."

suddenly, the apartment door swung open, revealing a grinning lando norris and carlos sainz. "speaking of normal people," lando winked at you, his blue eyes sparkling. "ready for that movie night, y/n?"

your cheeks warmed. lando had been relentlessly charming ever since you'd met at a charity gala a few weeks ago. he always seemed to find a way to compliment your outfit, your laugh, or even just the way you handled a plate of hors d'oeuvres. it was...disarming.

flashback

the air crackled with nervous energy as you nervously adjusted your borrowed gown. attending a charity gala with your sister, alexandra, a rising wag in the f1 world, was exciting, terrifying, and utterly overwhelming. just as you were about to retreat to the bathroom for the tenth time that night, alexandra materialized beside you, a triumphant grin splitting her face.

"there you are! come meet someone," she said, dragging you towards a group where charles leclerc was holding court, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"y/n, this is lando," charles announced, gesturing towards a tall, lanky figure with a mop of floppy brown hair. "lando, this is my amazing girlfriend, alexandra, and her equally amazing sister, y/n."

lando's smile was like sunshine breaking through clouds. his blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he extended a hand towards you. "amazing is definitely the word for it," he said, his voice a charming mix of british and something vaguely exotic. "it's lovely to meet you, y/n."

you felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you shook his hand. his touch sent a jolt through you, a strange combination of warmth and nervous electricity.

"likewise," you stammered, suddenly hyperaware of the borrowed dress that seemed to suddenly itch everywhere.

alexandra, ever the social butterfly, nudged you playfully. "so, y/n, tell lando about your photography!"

you, relieved for the distraction, launched into a passionate explanation of your latest project, a series capturing the hidden beauty of everyday objects. lando listened intently, his head tilted to one side, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the photos you were showing him on your phone.

"wow, this one is incredible," he said, pointing at a shot of a chipped teacup bathed in warm sunlight. "it's like you found magic in the ordinary."

you beamed. "that's exactly what i'm trying to do!"

the conversation flowed easily from there. you discovered a shared love for vintage cameras and a mutual disdain for overcooked canapés. lando, it turned out, was as funny as he was charming, his quick wit leaving you breathless with laughter.

as the night wore on, alexandra and charles discreetly wandered off, leaving you and lando deep in conversation about the perfect lighting for capturing a raindrop mid-fall.

"so," lando said finally, a playful glint in his eyes, "i hear you're a bit of a photography whiz. maybe you could give me some pointers on capturing the perfect pit stop action shot sometime?"

"me? at a race track?" you couldn't help but laugh. the world of formula one seemed about as far removed from your quiet life as possible.

"why not?" lando shrugged, his grin widening. "besides, charles tells me you make a mean cup of tea. maybe a post-race debriefing is in order?"

the invitation hung in the air, a silent dare. you hesitated, then a slow smile spread across your face.

"alright, lando norris," you said, a playful challenge in your voice. "challenge accepted."

flashback ended

"uh, yeah, sure," you stammered, gathering your things. "see you guys later."

alexandra leaned in conspiratorially. "have fun! and y/n?"

you raised an eyebrow.

"don't be afraid to give him a chance. he might surprise you."

the movie night was...something. lando insisted on a ridiculous rom-com, complete with over-the-top declarations of love and pratfalls that had you snorting with laughter. halfway through, he paused the movie, leaning close.

"you have the most incredible laugh," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

your cheeks burned. "thanks," you mumbled, looking away.

he chuckled. "is it just the movie, or are you actually starting to blush around me, y/n?"

you swatted him playfully. "maybe a little. but don't get any ideas, lando norizz."

he grinned, unfazed. "ideas are kind of my specialty. so, here's one: how about we ditch this cheesy movie and grab some gelato? my treat, of course."

you hesitated. this was ridiculous. lando norris was a formula one driver, a celebrity living in a world of fast cars and glamorous parties. what did he want with a regular girl like you?

but his smile was so genuine, his eyes so warm, that something inside you melted. "alright," you agreed, a shy smile creeping onto your face.

the gelato shop was a whirlwind of laughter and stolen glances. lando teased you about your ridiculous cone of every flavor imaginable, then pretended to steal a lick. you chased him around the shop, ending up breathless and giggly.

as you walked back to the apartment, the moon casting a silvery glow on the streets, a comfortable silence settled between you. lando stopped, turning to face you.

"you know," he said softly. "you're more fun than any trophy i've ever won."

your heart skipped a beat. he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "maybe alexandra was right," he whispered, his lips hovering tantalizingly close.

before you could even think about it, you closed the gap, meeting his kiss halfway. it was soft, playful, filled with the promise of something more.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, lando grinned.

"so," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "does this mean there's a chance for a "normal guy" like me?"

you couldn't help but laugh. "maybe," you teased. "but only if you promise to keep surprising me."

he leaned in again, his voice a husky murmur. "consider it a done deal."

and under the watchful gaze of the moon, a new love story bloomed, a testament to the fact that sometimes, the most extraordinary things can happen with the most ordinary people.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!

leave a like, leave a comment!

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[wlntrsldler]

i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace

fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 

“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 

oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 

he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 

luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 

“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 

luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 

luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 

annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 

“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 

“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 

the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 

“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 

you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 

you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 

you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 

the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 

“hey!” 

you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 

“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 

luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 

you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 

oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 

as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 

annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 

luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 

luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 

there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 

luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.

luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 

with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 

he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 

“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 

mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”

“yeah, they’re cute.” 

you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 

“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 

“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”

luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.

he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 

“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 

luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 

luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 

“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 

luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 

as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 

“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”

“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 

“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 

a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 

luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 

your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 

pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 

you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 

as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.

you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 

luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 

“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 

“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 

“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 

luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 

your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 

the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 

luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 

you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 

“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”

“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 

maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 

luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 

not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 

“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 

before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 

he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 

he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.

[dragonfly0808]

TimeBomb (Fix-It?) Fic with a side of Zaun Revolution

The inspiration really hit today, I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I had 7k of a new fic.

what is it about? Well…

Whilst I really enjoyed s2 of Arcane and I loved almost everything about it, I will admit there was one specific plot point I was really disapointed didn’t go anywhere and one character decision that I just couldn’t get behind.

First off; watching Arc 1/2 and especially episode 4 I was fucking pumped at the idea of a Zaun revolution plotline, and, since i watched the seasons back to back, I’ll be honest, watching episode 4 combined with the fact that in the opening credits we see Jinx waving a flag, my immediate thoughts were OH MY FUCKING GOD JINX IS GONNA LEAD A REVOLUTION AND FULLFILL SILCO’S DREAM OF AN INDEPENDENT ZAUN…

Obviously I felt like a clown when that did not happen

and then for the character decision… I’m not really a fan of the ‘you’re too far gone the only thing you can do now is sacrifice yourself for the greater good/to save someone’ character arc. Especially because I really wanted to see Jinx get better since, at the end of s1 her identity crisis is over, she choses Jinx and then I thought that maybe we could get maybe not a redemption arc but at least see her get better whilst staying partially chaotic

A part of me really likes what they did (up until her sacrifice) but a greater part of me is just- disappointed. Especially after the whole ‘No matter what happened in the past it’s never too late to build something new’ bit. It just felt a little cruel.

And i know of the Jinx is alive theory and I believe it but still- I just don’t like that this was the end for Jinx in Arcane, I would’ve loved to see her and Cait having to come to terms with both their crimes and what they allowed their respective grief to turn them into.

also Ekko didn’t deserve to end the series alone, not after everything he did and everything he gave up.

and so, with these two specific things in mind, pondering on it I found myself writing a little smth.

A fic that takes place right after the Stillwater breakout BUT- Jinx, Sevika and Isha escape before the Beast gets there AND Ekko returns from the alternate timeline early, pushing Jinx along with Sevika to convince her to be a part of the rebellion.

So far, I’ve got 7k words on this and I’m thinking on how to involve Vi (another thing is that I felt we should’ve gotten a bit more time with her) since, in my mind, the revolution of Zaun should’ve been led by Vi, Ekko and Jinx.

Ekko to represent the fight for the future and as the face of the Firelights.

Jinx to represent the fight for the present (since her arc would involve starting to heal and finding smth worth fighting for) and of course to also represent Silco and his dream

And Vi to represent the past (since a big part of her character is being stuck in the past) and Vander

Jinx and Vi get to right the wrongs of the past and join forces like Silco and Vander never got to! (Because why include that letter if nothing really came from it?) also, as a sister who’s had a lot of ups and downs with her big sister, I would’ve KILLED to get to see more of their new dynamic ‘Here’s to the new us’.

Also Isha lives because she deserved better and also Ekko gets to be her dad.

still unsure on how/if I incorporate Cait cause I LOVE her arc and would love to write her and Jinx/Ekko interacting

but yeah basically, this is a Timebomb fic with a heavy focus on Jinx becoming the leader of a revolution (since at first it’s more, Jinx is the symbol, Ekko is the brains. And maybe at some point it’s more like; Ekko is the heart, Jinx is the symbol/leader and Vi is the strength OR Ekko is the leader/brains, Jinx is the symbol/leader/face and Vi is the heart, you know cause- YOU HAVE A GOOD HEART DON’T EVER LOSE IT)

Also a big part of chapter 2 somehow wound up being a look into Sevika’s mindset and why she’s lowkey the biggest supporter of Zaun? So if you like Sevika I got you!

so uhh… yeah.

i’m thinking on the name and just to know what yall think, knowing what the focus would be what title do you think would work best?

Will prob start posting once I’ve got 5 chapters, which, if I keep up the pace will prob be in 2 or 3 days

also, should i tag it as Fix-It? Not sure if I should tbh

Here’s a few little peaks! A tiny part of Ekko convincing Jinx to be a symbol (that was a LONG scene)/Part of the speech that starts it all/Isha being adorable in the Firelight’s base

Ekko adjusted his coat on her, she hadn’t really noticed him getting close enough to do so, “I fought so long to make the undercity a better place, or to at least create a safe place in it, but I got so wrapped up in all the ways that we’ve been screwed over, failed, in all the ways that it wasn’t even half of what I’d dreamed of no matter how hard I tried that I was starting to lose hope. But seeing that world… it helped me realize that… no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.” 

Jinx forced herself to met his eyes, unsure of what to do under the weight of his soft eyes and the careful way he’d somehow gotten his hands in hers, stopping her from digging her nails into her palms.

“…someone worth building it for.”

Jinx felt something in her starting to crack, “I don’t know if I know how to build anything.”

“That’s alright,” he quickly assured her, his own eyes glittering with tears, “we can learn. This right here Jinx… this is our chance. I saw the murals, the posters, what you said back in the airshaft- if Piltover is targeting us… then maybe- just maybe, this could be our chance to bring all of the undercity together. To stand against Piltover, make them finally see us. I’m not saying we burn them to the ground but- we can fight back, fight for respect, for a seat at the table.”

Jinx took a step back, shaking her head, “I can’t- I’m not like you- I’m not a leader or- or some inspirational figure. They’re just desperate for anything to believe in. I’m not- I don’t deserve their faith.”

“But you’re the first to take a real stand in a long time. Sure it was an… explosive stand but a stand regardless. Directly against the Council, the people who have passed all the laws to try and make us less than them in the past. Who have had no trouble ignoring our struggles and claiming blissful ignorance when they screw us over. You have the chance to help bring people together. If we can stop killing each other over Piltover’s scraps and for territory… we can stand our ground. This could be the start of a rebellion. A revolution.”

“…I’ll screw it up. I always do.”

“You won’t… and if it does go wrong… it won’t be on you. We can do this Jinx, together.”

Jinx looked back out to the city line.

It’d been Silco’s dream.

To be recognized by Piltover. 

He hadn’t been able to bring Zaun together, sure, but everything he’d done had forced Zaun into progress… even if it wasn’t always in the best of ways. His biggest dream had always been of Zaun being it’s own nation.

It was the dream that’d been within his grasp, close enough to touch but that he had meant to reject in the end.

For her.

She’d bombed the Council as a way to honor him.

To finally show them all.

Everything had gone to shit the moment he was gone.

But now… now all of Zaun had a common enemy. 

There had been no singular group in Stillwater. Instead a coglamoration of Jinxers and Firelights and members from every gang Jinx knew of.

That meant that there had been no division at Sevika’s rally.

That for once, every part of Zaun had been open to the possibility of fighting for the same cause and had been promptly punished for it.

Jinx slowly turned back to Ekko.

Building something knew… he’d said Powder used her abilities to create instead of destroying… could she do the same?

Someone worth building it for… she thought of the hopeful look in Ekko’s eyes. Of the way the people of Zaun had, for a moment, embraced her, wrapping her in gratitude and misplaced but real hope as they passed by her. And of course, she thought of Isha, who deserved so much more than… this.

“I’m not saying I’ll be good at it… but I suppose I could give it a shot.”

Ekko reached out quickly, Jinx barely having time to flinch before he was tugging at her and-

Pulling her into a hug, all but crushing her against him, arms wrapped tightly against him.

She exhaled, falling against him, hiding her face against his chest.

They stayed like that for what was possibly an embarrassingly long time.

When she eventually managed to pull back, she turned away to wipe away her tears.

“So… how exactly does one start a revolution?”

—————————

“This is the time to stand together!” Ekko’s voice came as he stepped out from the crowd, wearing his firelight mask, going to take it off as he went to stand next to Sevika, “To leave aside the labels and separation and to work together, it’s the only way we’ll survive what’s coming next. Piltover wants us divided. They have always benefited from us killing each other, being at each other’s throats, fighting for territory and for their scraps. Not anymore! We need to stand together! To show them that we will not backdown! That they can’t invade our streets, our homes and expect us to just lay down and take it! That-”

“Where is Jinx?!” Demanded a voice, thought she couldn’t tell exactly where it came from.

Ekko sighed, casting a glance her way, waiting.

Jinx took a deep breath.

“Right here!” She called out as she went to take off her cloak, the people around her quickly going to clear a path as she sauntered on forwards, stopping next to Ekko for a moment before going to stand on the metal box Sevika had left on the floor, “You wanted to see me? Well here I am!”

Most of the crowd gathered around her, after a moment of stunned silence, started applauding, whilst some other looked like they wanted nothing more than to shake her and ask her what exactly her plan was.

Jinx glanced to Ekko, who gave her a quiet encouraging nod.

Welp, she didn’t really have anything to lose.

“Now… I don’t know much about leading, or about being some- revolutionary… but I do know about fighting. And I know about Piltover’s crimes.”

She recalled all of Silco’s sermones and every story and complaint he ever told her about all Piltover had and constantly took for granted.

This had never been her dream. But it had been her dad’s. And maybe it had started becoming her own the moment Isha had dropped into her life.

“I know that Enforcers have killed hundreds of us, a lot of times, for no good reason other than to show us that we are lesser than them, for us daring to stand up for ourselves, for doing what we gotta do to survive. That they have thrown dozens of us in cells without a trial just because they can. But the second we lay our hands on a single one of their precious Council members they suddenly have the right to invade our streets? To cry for justice to be delivered? It’s bullshit!”

A lot of them started nodding along, she could see the anger rising up in them.

——————————

Jinx took a deep breath before gently placing Isha on the railing, keeping a hand on the back of her vest, “Look at that kid. You like it?”

Isha’s eyes widened in a way that would’ve been comical if it weren’t heartbreaking. This was probably the first proper tree she’d ever seen.

Jinx set her down on the floor and the girl started jumping from foot to foot, clearly thrilled.

Ekko chuckled as he went to crouch down, “You see that platform to the right?” He asked as he pointed, Isha following before nodding, “That’s where the kids we have here play. We even managed to get our hands on some Piltover toys if you wanna go check it out. Jinx and I will be by the base of the tree if you need us.”

Isha hesitated, going to grab Jinx’s leg.

The girl had gotten a lot more confident since Jinx had first met her but it was obvious she had some anxiety about being apart.

Jinx went to crouch as well, gently running her thumb over Isha’s eyebrow before playfully pinching her cheek, Isha trying to act annoyed and push her away but smiling, “You should go kiddo. See if they got any good stuff. I’ll be right down there, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Isha inspected her for a long moment before nodding along, adjusting her metal helmet as though it were armor before starting to make her way towards the platform.

“She seems like a good kid.” Ekko said.

“She is. She’s the best.”

[zeroslashsix]

Following my Gambit post, I love love love the way Rogue's powers are handled in X-Men Evolution. Like Gambit, Rogue tends to have a certain set of 'roles' when she's in a show/movie: she's focused on inner torment about her powers, on being a Spicy Southern Belle, or her romantic connections. Which is to say, her stories are usually about emotions and relationships, which is fine, I love those parts of her as much the rest. But if she's not fighting, her powers are only really viewed through a lens of how she feels about them, and how they impact her ability to connect with others.

And here's X-Men Evolution, fully leaning into the fact that Rogue’s power is one of the most dangerous in the entire show. I love the s3 ep "Self-Possessed" so much because it takes the brakes off her, and really commits to the idea that stacking powers is catastrophic when you consider she can wield multiple omega-level powersets at the same time. Her main limitation is that she doesn't want other personalities in her head, she limits her power usage because she just doesn't like it, and yeah, totally fair, but Rogue could absolutely wake up one day, go through the mansion and decide to be an omega squared. X-Men Evolution is about teenagers who are still figuring out their abilities, even at the end of the series when they're a year (two years?) older. By the finale, they have more control and training, but they are absolutely still growing into adulthood and have not reached full potential.

Which is why I think "Self-Possessed" is such a fascinating look at Rogue's powers. Every iteration of Rogue imposes a time limit on her absorption, meaning that any powers she absorbs will only stay with her for a short time. But in that episode, when she's succumbing to all those personalities in her head, her time limit stops existing. She can access powers for months, maybe even years after the initial absorption. Mystique's powers couldn't have given Rogue that ability; the only way Rogue could do such a thing is if that potential already exists inside of her. This implies that when she absorbs a power, that power stays inside her as long as the personality does, and her "time limit" is just a matter of control, or lack thereof.

This seems to be backed up by the s3 finale, where Mesmero and Mystique mind control Rogue to gather powers, and Rogue proceeds to SWEEP the X-Men, Brotherhood, Acolytes, and Magneto in less than 24 hours. By the end of it, she seems fully capable of using any and all their powers at will, ignoring any sort of time limit. Mesmero can mind control others, but he can't enhance them. He cannot give someone powers they don't already possess. The only reason Rogue could do all that is because she was already capable of it, and the fact Mesmero could mind control this out of her seems to imply that Rogue's limitations are entirely self-imposed, mostly mental/emotional, or maybe a lack of experience. (Similar to the season four finale where Rogue seems to use Leech’s power better than he does, probably just because he’s a little kid and she’s an adolescent so has a better grasp on powers in general)

Like, no wonder Mystique and Destiny wanted her powers. No wonder Magneto was so thrilled to have her in the ranks in the first season. No wonder so many people in the world want to use her; she is the all-mutant, the living multi tool that can gather multitudes of power in one place and then combine them. The only reason she isn't considered omega-level is pure technicality; in terms of destruction she could actually lay down, Rogue is absolutely as dangerous as plenty of omegas. The requirements for an omega are 1) infinite power, and 2) limitless power. Rogue has the first one; she can stack an infinite number of powers. But she lacks the second; all her powers must come from the outside, and she cannot generate them herself. But if she has access to multiple omega powersets like she does in Self-Possessed, that technicality kind of stops mattering once the punches actually start flying.

Which all leads into Rogue's main emotional journey through X-Men Evolution, which is perhaps my favorite she's ever had: being used. That's why she was adopted. That's why she was raised being unable to touch, being lied to by both her moms. That's why she was taken into the Brotherhood, and it's why Mystique will never leave her alone. Extra fascinating because after the reveal in season one that Mystique is Kurt's mother, Mystique leaves Kurt completely alone for the rest of the series, while simultaneously stalking and manipulating Rogue. Why the difference? Because Kurt is not a useful tool. Not compared to Rogue. And I think Rogue sees that difference, which makes for such a juicy dynamic when Kurt is so interested in actually loving Mystique, for insisting that Rogue should forgive their mother and 'let hatred go,' because he genuinely thinks that anyone can be saved with enough love. Whereas Rogue, who has seen Mystique's 'love' up close for her whole life, is desperately trying to get away from that, with good reason.

One of the reasons I wish we’d had more seasons, or at least more episodes in the last season, is how seamlessly Rogue’s feelings about her powers flowed into her feelings around being used, her feelings around family, and being dehumanized to the point of mind-wipe by her own mother. Yes she’s sad about the no-touching thing, but that’s nothing compared to being seen as a literal object in the eyes of others, because her powers are utterly perfect—for someone else to use. Which flows into questions of bodily autonomy, of who her powers “belong to” vs. who they “should belong to.” Especially considering that Rogue is only at full power when she loses control/is under someone else’s control, which could lead someone to conclude, “Well of course Rogue should be under someone’s control, preferably mine. She’s so powerful when someone else is controlling her, and so weak when she controls herself. It’s honestly such a waste for Rogue to be her own person when she could be so much more. She needs to be used to reach her full potential.”

In a perfect world, we’d have way more X-Men Evo than we got. More seasons, more episodes, more time to explore whatever the hell Rogue had going on. And if I was allowed to pick, I would have loved to see Rogue with a character arc of self-ownership. In particular, it would be so cool to see her powers develop to the point she can have a “Self-Possessed” crisis and control it, fully aware of herself and all the powers she holds. I’d love to see her use those powers for her own benefit, on purpose, independent of both her mother and the X-Men. I’d love to see a self-serving Rogue in the XMenEvo. Not necessarily evil (though it would be a fascinating villain arc) but a Rogue who chooses selfishness as an act of rebellion. Who can use all those powers simultaneously, consciously, and disobediently. Vengeance, maybe? Or something that heightens humans’ fear of mutants? I’d love to see Rogue become inconvenient to the X-Men, at the very least, either physically or philosophically. Certainly nothing so dire as the Phoenix saga, but something that uses her powers to their fullest extent. (Damn could you imagine Rogue as the Horseman of Death if this went in the opposite direction. How fucking overpowered would Death!Rogue be, how the hell would the X-Men deal with that)

Anyways. Fanfiction is the folklore of the now or whatever. And XMenEvo was already a crazy high school AU anyway.

[foone]

Alternative names for humanity along the lines of "Homo sapiens" (Wise man) and "Pan narrans" (Storytelling Chimpanzee) that I'm too lazy to look up/make up Latin for:

chef ape

throwing ape

walking ape

The idea being that we're apparently unique in the animal kingdom in that we cook our food, so we're the Chef Apes. We're also one of the best animals at throwing things: humans have more accuracy and strength when throwing stuff than other apes, by a long shot

And apparently our ability to walk slowly for ages was key to our early survival as persistence predators. We can't outrun a gazelle or mammoth or whatever, but we don't tire easily and so we can just keep following it until it runs out of stamina

Pan basipila: the baseball playing Bonobo

If only baseball had a cooking element, it would be the perfect Human Sport.

We need to devise a sport where you cook something, follow someone for a long time, and then throw it at them.

The most human thing is the surprise pie to the face

Also as much as I like Terry Pratchett's suggestion of "Pan narrans" I wouldn't be surprised if we turn out to not be the only animal that tells stories...

Elephants. I bet elephants do.

Like, there was that case where an injured elephant went to a ranger station for help. One it had never been to before, but other elephants had.

The theory being then that some other elephant had told this elephant "hey if you're hurt, go here, the humans will help"

That, combined with how they have burial rituals (some which might indicate there's an elephant religion!), and that we're working on figuring out how elephants communicate...

It wouldn't surprise me if we learn sometimes in the next decade or two that "oh yeah, elephants tell stories too. They've got FICTION."

So "Pan narrans" isn't what I'd want to bet on as our uniquely human thing.

But at the end of the day, maybe the whole idea of there being a uniquely human thing is, in itself, just another story we're telling.

So maybe it is a good fit after all.

But I especially like the idea that we're the Baseball Ape because I have this image in my head of a galactic council of aliens. Some angry alien who looks like Cthulhu had a baby with a spider has the floor, and they're ranting about "why do the Hu-mons deserve a seat?"

The Crogath are stronger, the Eldru are smarter, the Cybernetic Essense lives longer, the Dromans go farther and faster, the Moltriri have us beat in fiction and poetry, what is so special about these damn bipedal fleshbags that makes them unique in the universe?

And then WHAM. Right between the eyes. A handheld translator device, a bit bigger than a modern smartphone, beans the speaker out of nowhere.

And there's an (untranslated) yell in the chamber as the prime representative calls for order.

"WE CAN THROW, MOTHERFUCKER!"

(it takes a while to properly explain the insult. Crogathi (especially drones) don't really have mothers or sexual reproduction, so they don't really get why that would be an insult. It's finally translated as something like "bud-biter")

and it's true. even after the World Series becomes the Galactic Series, no non-human team ever manages to win.

The Eldrul Librarians almost make the cut in 2486 but accidentally piss off the ghost of Colonel Sanders and end up inheriting the Hanshin Tigers' curse.

alien textbooks describe The Colonel as some kind of human patron deity of baseball and cooked avian food, who should not be disrespected at all costs, or his vengeance from his place beyond the grave will be swift and punishing

(they're right)

"Look, we can't PROVE he was why Gemini Noctis went supernova unexpectedly, but given the protests that had happened right beforehand, and the incredible powers ascribed to the human spirits, do you really want to risk it?"

the funniest possible future: humanity gets a key place in galactic politics because we're never able to adequately convince the universe at large that our ghost stories are just that, stories, and they're terrified shitless that we'll unleash spectral torment on them

"humans? look man, living humans are a pushover. you can easily rip them in half, crack their planets with a quark bomb, their ships are little more than tin cans with a tachyon drive taped on the side. but it's not the living humans you have to worry about... it's the ghosts."

"humans are a bit like the Nontilek, with a two-stage lifespan, a grub and an adult. What you think of as "adult" humans is just their infant stage, and they only fully transform once they "die". Once fully hatched into Ghost form, their powers are almost limitless."

you want humans off a colony planet and bomb them from orbit? good luck, now you have a few million ascended humans who can pass through solid matter and can't be killed, and they will never rest until you and your descendants are gone or dead.

you don't believe me? look at this: One of their most popular stories is about them building an empire that spanned a large chunk of their little planet, then having it MURDER THEIR OWN GOD.

It only worked for a few revolutions, and he just came back, promising that one day all of them would join him in the next phase of their lifespan.

They still, to this day, thousands of orbits later, erect little statues of the means they used to execute their deity.

not even the Crogathi, who literally worship death itself, tell stories that frightening to their newly hatched grubs.

Humans are scary, man, stay away and just give them whatever they want.

the rest of the alien's education on the dangers of humans is just a selection of human movies. the sixth sense, poltergeist, ghostbusters, the shining, the devil's backbone, and, of course, field of dreams.

ghosts AND baseball? it's everything they're scared about humans all in one package!

the obvious twist you could do, of course, is simple:

the aliens are right.

humans are a two-phase species where the elder form has immense power but leaves communication and decision making to the younger form, which will be confused and angry if you acknowledge the presence of their elder-stage members among them.

this often leads to them cutting off contact or their elder-stage members causing immense damage through seeming "accidents" on the contacting vessel. This is believed to be some kind of religious prohibition that they are not able to explain.

so it's official contact protocol to pretend you cannot perceive the elder-stage humans among them, and to give them what they want to avoid possible retribution.

No means to combat elder-stage humans has yet been found, and the limits of their power is not known.

All alien captains are required to study the fate of the SS Ennolon, which contacted a lone human craft in the galactic year of 12,783. They had initiated contact and were getting along fine, until the human showed the Droman captain a picture of their "late father".

Captain Droless, accounting for the difficulty in telling humans apart, then pointed at the father sitting in a chair nearby and said "That is them, correct?".

The human looked at the chair, reacted in confusion, then anger, and asked the contacting crew to immediately leave.

It was another 400 cycles before contact could be reestablished between the Droman Federation and the Human Alliance.

the intergalactic guide describes humans as a powerful race of immortal energy beings who have the strange habit of sending their larvae out on missions around the galaxy, occasionally contacting other races, but refusing to acknowledge their elders, except in stories

they seem to frequently put their young in dangerous situations without lifting a hand to help, so this is suspected to be some sort of pilgrimage or coming-of-age ritual.

(From a twitter thread on October 1st, 2022)

[theemissuniverse]

“BITES AND FANGS” STILES STILINSKI X GOTH! VAMP FEM!READER PART 1

SUMMARY : Stiles has had a crush on you since the second grade. What he doesn’t know is that you’re a vampire

WARNINGS : suggestive content, reader has long hair

A/N : making a series

Nothing could get you out of his head. He’s been in love with you since second grade hoping that you’d one day see him.

His best friend couldn’t understand it. Especially after high school hit. You were always a reserved and sarcastic person but when you went to high school you became mean, spiteful and a dark energy came on you. It hit you like a brick.

Again, nothing could get you out of Stiles’s head. Despite your change, he still was in love with you. He didn’t think he could pull away the connection he felt with you, even though you only spoke a total of five words to him.

“Move. You’re in my seat.”

The rest of your guy’s communication were longing looks he gave you and death glares you gave him.

But every time you glared at him, he fell in love all over again.

Okay. Maybe he did have issues.

He just couldn’t understand how you were friends with Lydia Martin. The two of you were polar opposites.

He watched as you walked down the halls with Lydia. Lydia was one of the only people you would smile with so he appreciated the way you laughed with her.

As Scott went through his locker, he caught Stiles staring at you and he shook his head. “You need to either get over this or go for it. I’ve been dealing with this for too long.”

Stiles looked at Scott, bewildered. “Um, excuse me? You’ve been dealing with this for too long?”

“Um, yeah I have.”

“Okay? Yeah. Well, for your information, I am going to go for it. It’s all a part of my plan.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Scott closed his locker before giving Stiles a serious look. “So what’s the first step?” Seeing the look Stiles gave him made him sigh. “You don’t have one do you?”

Stiles stomped in frustration. “Well, you try to ask out the hottest girl in the world and see where it gets you.”

Scott looked back in your direction again to examine you. You weren’t ugly but with your goth persona and dark personality, he couldn’t understand how his best friend thought you were the “hottest girl in the world.”

“You’re the one that decided to crush on a girl that could probably maim you with her nails.”

“I’d probably enjoy that.” When Stiles said it, Scott rolled his eyes playfully.

He was right. This had been going on for far too long. This had to be put to an end. It had to stop. Not only for Scott hearing about it every day but for his own sanity. “You’re right. I am a man. And this has been going on for way too long.”

“Right.” Scott nodded too fast in agreement.

“I’m just gonna go up.” Stiles looks back to see you’re alone by your locker, applying your black lipstick with the mirror attached to your locker. “And go for it.”

Scott placed his hands encouragingly on his shoulders. “You’re the man.”

“I’m the man.”

Adrenaline ran through his veins. It wasn’t even about the rejection. He knew there was a 99.9% chance you would reject him given your nature. He was just nervous to talk to you.

He had to suck it up. After this, he can go back to what was the usual routine and Scott couldn’t complain otherwise.

The steps felt heavy. Like he was carrying a huge weight. It shouldn’t be this hard.

When he got close to you, the smell instantly hit him. You smelled weird. Like rose petals and sour candy. Not that it was a particularly bad smell. He liked it but you just had an unusual scent. A combination he’s never smelled before.

You didn’t look at him, continuing to do your lips. “Why are you in my face, Stilinski?”

Stiles froze. Time had stopped for him. You knew him? You knew his last name?

And you only ever spoke five words to him?

“You know my name?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask out loud.

“You’ve been in my class since second grade, you’re the worst player on the Lacrosse team, and you sent me a candy Valentine last year.”

You tried to sound disinterested. He could tell but you paid attention to him. You noticed him. That’s more than anyone could do for him.

Then he thought about the last thing you said. “Wait. That was anonymous. How did you know it was me?”

“You’re the only one that would do it.”

Stiles highly doubt it. In his own world, you were up there with Lydia, having all the men dote on you. He didn’t understand how you couldn’t think no one else would think the same of you.

You placed the lipstick in your makeup bin in your locker. Then started to brush your hair. “Did you want something?”

Stiles realized something. You didn’t threaten him. Unlike all the other men that came to talk to you, he was still breathing. He was alive.

He didn’t think he’d get this far. “Uhhh…”

“Ten seconds.”

Realizing how much time he had, he just blurted it out. “Do you want to go out tonight?!”

The question made you slam your locked. This was it. This is when you were going to threaten him. Or even end him.

“When?”

You were going out with him? Really? No. It couldn’t be this easy. Again, he didn’t think he’d get this far. “Uhh…five?”

“What are we doing?”

“Umm bowling?”

You gave him a look. “You want to take me out to bowling?”

“We can do something else.”

“Bowling’s fine. Are you gonna pick me up in your beat up truck?”

“I can.” That’s when he thought of something. “How do you know I have a truck?”

You didn’t respond. You grabbed his phone in his pocket. You faced his phone so the Face ID could unlock his phone. When it did, you proceeded to add your contact to his phone. “If you’re even a minute late, I’m not going out.” You texted yourself so you had his number.

Stiles was shocked at what you were doing. Not at your assertiveness but at the fact you were indulging him.

There was no way in any universe you were actually giving him a chance.

“Got it. I can be punctual.” When you gave him his phone, he felt something.

Coldness. Not like the actual temperature but something about your aura. Almost like you were dead.

There was no other words to describe it.

“I don’t like flowers. So don’t give me them.” You told him.

“I know.” He saw the look you gave him and he coughed out of awkwardness. “I mean, yeah, got it. You grabbed your Hershey kisses out your locker and left him where he stood. He noticed the bag was nearly empty. “I’ll see you!” You didn’t respond though.

Stiles would’ve did a victory dance in the hallway if Scott didn’t walk up to him. “I can’t believe that went well.”

Stiles looked at him offended. “I thought I was the man?”

“Yeah…no…”

Scott walked away and Stiles continued to be offended. “I am the man!”

There was one thing Stiles couldn’t shake. Why did you feel like death walking on Earth?

You couldn’t understand why you couldn’t get him out of your head? Not only was he the biggest dork on the planet but he was a human who had nothing to offer you other than blood.

You’ve known Stiles since second grade but never paid attention to him. There was no need to. Until you turned into a vampire.

After you turned into one, you stopped really caring about anything. Except him.

Being a vampire, your power was reading people’s minds. Everyone’s thoughts were yours.

Except his.

He was the only one you couldn’t read. It didn’t make any sense. None at all.

The only thing you could go off of was reading his werewolf best friend’s thoughts and Scott was thinking how annoying it was Stiles had a crush on you since second grade.

It intrigued you. How could you not read his thoughts?

You tried to control yourself around him but the closer you got to him, the more you started to want to sink your fangs into him.

The reason you became a vampire in the first place was because a vampire visited you in town, gave you some of his blood, and snapped your neck killing you.

It took you months to get your bloodlust under control and even when you did, you felt the urge to want to turn Stiles.

Why the hell would you want to do that?

You tried to stay away from him to keep you from wanting to fulfill your urge but you couldn’t. Not anymore.

Honestly you didn’t understand how he had a crush on you. You were distant, mean, and sarcastic. You wore dark clothes with dark make up. It was a clear indicator to stay away from you.

He didn’t want to stay away.

Now here Stiles was, waiting in his car at your house fifteen minutes early. He didn’t even want to chance being a minute late.

He was nervous. It was evident. Stiles couldn’t ruin this one shot of being with you.

But he’s never been on a date before. He doesn’t know what to do beside all the cheesy things he’s seen in movies.

You? Liking cheesy? Absolutely not.

Stiles jumped when he heard the passenger window being tapped. When he turned, he saw you.

Then his heart started to do summer salts. Your corset fit you perfectly, showing off your curves. He thought it suited you well.

What took him by surprised were your glossy red lips instead of the matte black you usually wore.

He loved it.

Stiles got out the car immediately. Then went over to your side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready?”

You gave him a look. “Does it matter?”

“Well, I was going to be a gentleman and come to the door.” When he said that, he opened the car door for you. He watched as you looked at him up and down like you were observing his every move.

Those eyes reminded of a cat. A predator trying to capture her prey.

And he liked being prey.

You didn’t respond to him and got into the passenger seat. “Yeah. Great.” He said to himself as he closed the door before going back to the driver’s side.

The drive there he wouldn’t say was awkward. He couldn’t even process awkwardness with all the thoughts running through his head.

You were actually giving him a shot. You of all people. Someone be considered himself a living goddess.

But he started to notice a couple things. The coldness he felt when he touched you. It was strange to him.

Then he saw you wipe your mouth. There was a red substance that wasn’t part of your lip gloss at the corner of your mouth.

It almost reminded him of blood.

With his best friend turning into a werewolf, he was used to the supernatural. At least to some extent. He knew there was something strange about you. Maybe you were something like the supernatural.

He didn’t care. He wanted you. He was set on it.

When you arrived, he made sure to open the door for you the same as last time. He held his hand out for you to take and you stood there, staring blankly at him.

“Too fast?” He asked while putting his hand down.

You started to stare at him and Stiles was wondering why you were staring so hard. Little did he know, you were again trying to read his mind. Nothing. There wasn’t anything there.

You didn’t say anything. You grabbed his hand and led him into the building.

You were holding hands with him? This had to be a fever dream.

Stiles should’ve anticipated how heavy the bowling balls would be. You giggled as he struggled a little to even throw it down the alley with him missing all the pins.

He cleared his throat before looking back at you. “Careful. It’s like…really heavy. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You scoffed at the statement. Then grabbed one with ease and even threw it with ease too. You got a strike.

His eyes widen and all he did was nod. “Yeah. Should’ve expected that.”

Throughout the entire evening, you got strikes while Stiles did poorly. You won easily.

The two of you were sitting down, eating your food.

You were smiling with him. Even chuckling at all his corny jokes. It made you even more irritated. Why were you so drawn to Stiles? How was it even possible to be drawn to someone so much? To someone you barely had conversation with?

Stiles ranted on about him being on the Lacrosse team. You weren’t paying attention. All you were paying attention to was the sound of his heartbeat.

And how hungry you were.

He smelled so good. Something you wanted to devour. But as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Not to Stiles. The boy who you’ve known since second grade.

You had to try and control yourself.

Stiles noticed you gnawing on your lip and your leg shaking vigorously. He stopped talking and gently held your hand. “Hey? You okay?”

He felt warm compared to your coldness. Something you wanted to wrap in like a blanket. You never realized how cold you were until Stiles touched you.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

You hurriedly got out of your seat and marched straight to the bathroom where a couple of girls were already coming out of it.

You checked every stall to make sure no one was there. Once the coast was clear, you went up to the sink. When you looked in the mirror, your eyes were beaming red. A color that was darkening by the minute. Veins came underneath your eyes. Fangs coming in looking meaner,

Turning on the sink and splashing water on your face, you saw no change. You were the same thing you always were.

A monster.

You hear the bathroom door open and don’t even bother to see who it is. “Occupied.” You say in a voice that’s on the brink of tears.

Stiles sees the bathroom is empty and turns his hand to lock it. When you hear the lock, you looked back to see it’s him before quickly looking away before he could see your face. “What are you doing?”

He’s never seen you like this. You were always confident and self assured. He never saw you crack but right now you were breaking in front of him.

It didn’t sit right with him.

“What’s wrong? You gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

You couldn’t. Stiles admired you. You didn’t need to read his mind. It was obvious. What would happen if you were a vampire? Would the admiration go away?

“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Stiles wasn’t letting you slide. He walked up behind you. Then forced you to turn around and face him. “Stop pushing me away. I just want to help.”

You immediately try to cover your eyes but it was too late. He saw you. “Don’t look at me! I’m hideous.”

He’s taken back. He should be scared. Terrified but he’s not. Maybe it’s because he already had knowledge of the supernatural. Maybe it’s because he liked you so much. Either way, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

You wouldn’t look in his eyes, instead just looking down to your combat boots.

Stiles cupped your face as he stared deeply into your red eyes. His thumb gently caressed your face and when he did, the veins under your eyes grew bolder.

He had no idea what you were but you were amazing either way.

“Interesting…” Stiles knew there was something different about you. And he was right as always.

You noticed he didn’t back away from you. He actually held your chin up and made you look in his eyes. That’s when he saw you for the first time ever crying.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because.” You sniffed wiping tears. “I’m hideous. I’m a monster.”

Stiles looked at you like you were insane. You? Hideous? Hell was walking on Earth. “Are you crazy? You’re beautiful.”

His hand went to your jaw and that’s when he saw your teeth. Not only did your eyes not appear to be a werewolf but the fangs didn’t either so what were you?

“Come on. Let’s go talk.”

That’s when you told him everything in your living room. That you were a vampire and how you became one. He listened intently, making sure he understood you completely.

There was only one thing he was confused about. “So why did you agree to go out with me?”

The question made you bite your lip, afraid to answer. “I can read any mind. Anyone’s mind that is near me is like an open book to me. All but yours. I don’t understand it. How can I read everyone but you?” You started to mess with bracelets on your wrists. “Ever since I became a vampire, there’s been a certain aura around you. I just can’t break it. And I don’t know why. I just want to sink my teeth in you. And taste you.”

Stiles’s breath got caught in his throat. He should’ve been freaked out. But he wasn’t. Just intrigued and turned on.

When you finished your sentence, he noticed the veins come from under your eyes and you turned around from him.

Stiles scooted closer to you on the couch and forced you to look at him. “Stop looking away like I don’t think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You scoffed. “I’m a vampire, Stiles.”

“And my best friend is a werewolf. Do you really think anything is going to bother me?”

“You don’t understand how hard it is to control myself when I’m around you.”

Stiles tilted his head at you. He cupped your face, making sure you were looking at him. “Just drink from me.”

You gave him a look. “You want me to drink from you? Are you insane?”

“I am, yeah. But I trust you, and you look hungry. Do it.”

You looked at him to make sure he was serious. He was. The connection you felt with him only sparked more.

You leaned over and kissed him which took him aback. He kissed you back, holding the back of your neck and bringing you closer.

His lips tasted sweet. Sweeter than you could ever imagine. You got on his lap and pushed him back into the couch while kissing him.

Stiles groaned in pleasure when you began to grind on him in a very needy way. Like you were dying to have sex with him.

Your right hand was on his chest where you could feel his heartbeat. You wanted to listen to it forever.

He was trying to be a gentleman so he didn’t really know where to place his hands. He just kept them at your waist, making sure to not hold you tightly.

The kiss was hypnotizing. Like you couldn’t pull away. You forgot that Stiles was human and needed oxygen because he ended up pulling away.

You sat on his lap, giggling as he caught his breath. When he eventually did, he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “Does this mean I have a vampire girlfriend?”

“You want a vampire girlfriend?”

“Hell yeah.”

You shook your head smiling before leaning down to kiss him again.

[squinch-depraved]

schlatt x single mom!reader part 1 (aside from my post about how you met)

(this will be going up on my ao3 once it's ready, i'll probably edit it and format it differently and stuff so don't be surprised if it's a lil different but tumblr gets the first version)

(if anyone has an idea for a title for this series lmk pls eek)

even though daphne’s alarm clock went off at the same time every morning with the same exact song like, well… clockwork, it still infuriated you to no end. having to wake up to “crazy frog” every damn day since you made the mistake of showing it to her almost a year ago now was bad, but what was worse was how for the past few weeks, you would stub your toe or shin or whatever it may be on one of the dozens of packed up boxes strewn about the cramped studio apartment you shared with your daughter on your way to turning off the godforsaken hello kitty alarm clock. if it weren’t so special to the both of you, you would have chucked it out of one of the two tiny windows you had ages ago.

“up, daphydil. we gotta be at the cafe in 20, opening’s in 2 hours. now, c’mon girlie,” you gently coaxed her out of bed. she was small for a five-year-old, golden brown ringlets messily framing her face and hanging in front of her forever wild eyes. a soft smile played at your lips as you stroked her hair. “there’s my beautiful girl. alright, can you be ready in 10 minutes? i bet you can’t. i bet you can’t so much that if you are ready to go in 10 minutes, shoes and everything, i’ll let you ride on my back all the way to the store. does that sound good?” daphne grinned mischievously and nodded.

“can i have a muffin for breakfast at the store?” she asked.

must be a good day, you thought. she’s talking.

“of course, bear. i’ll make the blueberry ones like you like for both of us, how ‘bout that?”

“okay. stop taking up my 10 minutes, please.”

you laughed and rose off her bed. “that’s fair. the clock starts now, daph, gogogo!” you set a timer on your phone and chuckled to yourself again as she raced to her pile of boxes to pick out an outfit. she had the most eccentric taste for a kindergartener. well, she would be in kindergarten. you had yet to find a school that worked for her— sure, she had only tried preschools, but the amount of other kids there combined with the lack of your presence sent her into a shutdown for almost a week each time. so you decided to homeschool her. school didn’t start for another week, so you still had time to get things sorted. but it was going to be extremely challenging, running the cafe, teaching her, getting moved into the new apartment, and all the other stuff you had to attend to.

for a split second as you walked back over to your own pile of clothes, the man from yesterday flashed through your mind. you couldn’t stop yourself from going over his features while you changed into working clothes; something about him made you want to give him a chance. and so, before you knew it, you were responding to his “thanks again” text he had sent once you parted ways.

you: schlatt. if you’re free, meet us at this address for breakfast. would love to talk. if not, we’re there all day. thanks.

with that, you sent him the location of the store and chucked your phone onto the bed, hissing in regret and running a hand through your hair. the embarrassment was short lived, though, as almost immediately your phone dinged with a response.

jesus, eager much?

but being the hypocrite that you are, you dove for the phone, just as excited as he was.

schlatt: hey!! yeah, sure, i can be there in maybe an hour. see you then!

taking deep breaths, you slid your phone into your back pocket and strapped on your work boots, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“i’m ready.”

“fuck!! oh, jesus, daph, i’m sorry,” you panted. “you scared the shit out of me, girl, you walk too quiet. alright, let me grab a few last things and we’ll go.” she nodded, smiling, and stepped out of your way. after you had locked the door behind you both, she raised her arms as if asking to be picked up and made a grabbing motion. with a dramatic sigh and a roll of your eyes, you squatted down and helped daphne climb on top of your back. once she was settled, you began the trek down the street to the cafe.

you wished more than anything you could see the world through daphne’s eyes. to her, pigeons were fascinating creatures that she could spew off facts about for hours. she was so full of knowledge and so willing to share it; it was how she showed her love. to her, a piece of trash on the ground could be turned into an accessory for a hat, or a decoration, or whatever it may be. she was endlessly creative and resourceful (where she got that from, you had no idea). to her, her mother was a hero. and, god, how you envied her ability to see you that way.

“we’re here!” you announced as you turned the key in the lock and stepped into the dark building. flicking on the lights, you leaned down and let daphne hop off your shoulders. “smells like coffee.”

“i hate the smell of coffee,” daphne mumbled.

“me too, bear. now, c’mon, we gotta get going!! we’re opening soon!”

she began her routine of sweeping the dining area first, and then the kitchen, and then the bathrooms while you turned on all the machines and let a few employees in the back entrance to help start everything up. opening always goes quicker than closing, so it wasn’t long before you opened the doors and let the regulars in.

but among them was schlatt. somehow you had forgotten he was coming, and daphne lit up when she saw him walk in.

“funny man!” she yelled, dropping the tongs she was holding and sprinting around to meet his fistbump from her station at the muffin display.

“daph!! now i gotta wash those again,” you grumbled. “hey, schlatt.” you sheepishly finished wiping down the counter and scanned the store for any customers. luckily, it was saturday, so there were only a few people already seated and enjoying their food; you had some time to talk before the next rush came in.

“child labor, y/n?? really?” he joked, eyeing the menu above you.

“it’s not child labor if you went through labor to have the child,” daphne spoke, repeating a phrase you had said in passing once to a friend.

“oh my god!! daphy, please, can you go make sure the mug shelf is all straight?”

she nodded, glancing at schlatt one last time before she left. he was trying to hold in his laughter, but let out a sputtering chuckle once she walked away.

you closed your eyes and took a breath before speaking. “i’m so sorry. i swear i said that once. like, genuinely one time and she says that whenever someone comments on her working. she’s too smart for her own good, i don’t know what to do with her.”

“you know, you do an awful lot of apologizing when there’s nothing really to be sorry for. she’s hilarious, from what i’ve seen. why do you always try to defend her?”

your face went hot and you stammered a few times. “buy me a drink first, damn, dude…” with a huff, you went back to scrubbing the spotless counter.

“i- fuck. i’m sorry. that’s too much. let me start over, please?” he leaned in a bit, resting his elbow on the surface between you. when you gave him a short nod, he sighed a bit with relief and nodded his head towards a blueberry muffin. “can i get one of those?”

you couldn’t help but grin at his choice of pastry as you packaged it. “anything to drink?”

“what’s your coffee order?”

“three cans of diet coke. i don’t drink that shit,” you tried to jest but it sounded bitter.

he blinked a few times and nodded. “good, me neither. i was willing to, though, let that be known.”

with a laugh, you replied, “noted. here, take a seat and i’ll bring you a lemonade? daph’s idea, she thought it would be refreshing to keep in stock for the heathens like us who don’t drink bean juice.”

“sounds good. i’ll be over here,” he called as he walked towards a table hidden away in the corner. you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself as you poured two lemonades, thanking the stars above you remembered to actually make some this morning. usually nobody ordered any until the afternoon.

setting the two glasses on the table as you slid into the seat across from him, you shot one final glance at your assistant manager, who was running the counter while you took a few minutes to talk with schlatt. luckily, she was too busy with a customer asking for a refill to make a face at you and your new potential suitor.

“holy shit, that’s fancy lemonade. is that mint on top?”

“yeah, daph says it ‘enhances the flavor profile,’ or some shit. she likes food network a lot.”

he eyed the green sprig and took a cautious sip, eyebrows raising once he made a decision on the flavor. “she’s really smart, man. i never woulda thought of this. how old is she?”

“five. she has autism; she’s always been crazy genius. i don’t know how to keep up with her, she’s already smarter than me,” you chuckled quietly. “she’s so creative, too. i can’t find a school good enough to teach her things, she has a hard time being away from me and it’s just a whole thing. speak of the devil, actually.” daphne was skipping across the dining area and sat down in the seat next to you. “hey, bear!”

“i’m not a devil, mama.”

“it’s an expression, baby. remember? like, ‘easy as pie?’”

“oh yeah. because we tried to make pie and it went really bad.”

you sighed, smiling, and rested your head in your hands. “yes, bear. ‘speak of the devil’ just means, ‘here comes the person we were just talking about!’”

daphne pulled out a notebook from her apron pouch and took a pen from your shirt pocket to write down her new phrase.

“what’s that?” schlatt asked her. “you’re five and you know how to write??” you opened your mouth to tell him, but daphne beat you to it.

“i like to write things down so i can talk better.”

“i think you talk just fine, personally.”

both of you flicked your eyes up to squint at him, curling your mouths in the same look of confusion and intrigue.

“oh my god, you two look identical making that face, that’s hilarious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of muffin. at the same time, daphne and you side-eyed each other and started laughing.

“mama says i talk just fine too, but nobody else ever did. now two people think i talk good. maybe you could be my dad,” she wondered aloud. you choked on your lemonade and slammed it back onto the table, spilling some onto the old, damaged wood.

“okay, daph. can you go get me some paper towels from the back to clean this up and then go see if anyone needs help putting sprinkles on the donuts?”

“i already looked, the donuts are done. but the syrups need refilling.”

“okay, go do that, bear.”

“mhm.”

she skipped away, oblivious to what she had just started, and returned a moment later with a roll of towels to clean up. it was silent until she left for the second time.

“you’re gonna trust a five-year-old to refill syrup bottles?”

“she’s actually steadier than i am. she came up with, like, a whole system, it’s really cool. and she’s not by herself, we have a highschooler that’s working with us for the summer, she helps her.”

thank god that’s the first thing he brought up.

“mm. listen, i understand how kids are, we don’t have to talk about what she just…”

“yeah. thanks. she’s, um… she just kinda says what’s on her mind; i can’t stop her.”

“i get it. so, uh,” he rotated his now half-empty glass a few times as he went over what to say in his mind. “why does your nametag say ‘owner?’”

with a glance down at your badge, you slunk down in your chair. “this is my parents’ store. they always wanted me to take over, and i kind of didn’t have a choice after mom fell down the stairs over there. they used to live above the cafe, now they’re in a home and i have to run this dump. at least i get to move out of my studio and into this place, though. if i can ever find the time to actually get my stuff from one place to another.” you sounded more and more dejected as you went on, unable to meet his gaze.

“i can help you move,” schlatt offered smoothly. you smiled, but shook your head.

“nah, man, we have a lot of stuff. it’d be too much to ask of you.”

“shut the fuck up, it’s fine. look, how about we make a trade? i’ll help you move if you let me take you out on a date.”

you blinked a few times in confusion as your face heated up. “m-maybe, dude. i dunno. look, we’re in a rush now, i’ve gotta get behind the counter and try to help my employees get this under control. i’ll come back in a bit.” you gestured to the line that was almost out the door and rose from your seat.

“lemme help!”

his words stopped you in your tracks. “what??”

“let me help,” he repeated, “it’s clear you need it, you’ve got three guys besides you and one of them is a toddler.”

he had a point. flustered, you waved for him to follow you. “just put on an apron and wash your hands.”

the rush of patrons took about an hour to deal with; they just kept coming. schlatt handled everything with grace, upselling people on pastries when they only ordered a coffee and making casual conversation with the usual customers that came in to ask about you and your family.

he was so much better at dealing with chaos than you thought he would be. for some reason, you were expecting him to dip out as soon as he could. it was hard to picture him wanting to hang around after learning about you and how complicated you were. but for some unknown reason, he stayed. you watched him with a soft smile on your face as he undid his apron and hung it back up before stepping around to the other side of the counter.

“wasn’t so bad,” he teased, flicking his head towards the lemonade dispensers. “gimme another one of those.” you pushed the hand that was extending a credit card towards you away and turned around to grab a to-go cup.

“you kickin’ me out?” he asked, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“i can’t work right with you here. need to think. so, i guess, just… show up here at 8 tonight wearing something nice and ready to take me somewhere. you’re gonna help me move my stuff this weekend.” unable to look him in the eyes as your face burned, you handed him the drink and quickly crossed your arms when he took it.

“i am, huh?” he was grinning as he took the straw between his teeth.

“yes.” you swept some crumbs away with your foot and glanced at him for a split second.

“alright, y/n. you like steak?”

“i guess. haven’t had it in years, it’s too expensive…” you mumbled.

“perfect. i’ll see you at 8, toots. bye, daphne!” he waved to the girl who was sitting at the table with an elderly woman sketching something in her notebook.

“bye, funny man!” she called back, not looking up from her drawing. the woman across from her looked shocked at her words.

“bye, schlatt!” you waited until he was down the street before jumping up and down a few times and pumping your fists in the air.

“got a date?” the woman watching daphne asked across the nearly empty store.

“uhm. yeah, actually, i do, mrs. reid,” you stuttered.

“need me to watch daphne for you?”

“yeah, that would be super helpful, actually.” you brought her a new cup of tea and traded it for her old one. “on the house.”

“she’s been talking a lot more.”

running one hand through your hair, you sighed and sat down next to daphne. “yeah, we’ve been working on it a lot. something about schlatt makes her open up. anything to say, bear?”

she just stuck her tongue out in concentration and continued drawing pigeons.

“that’s okay, daphy. you don’t ever have to talk if you don’t want to.” with a gentle pet of her head, you stood up and walked back behind the counter to help a customer that had just come in. you were unable to stop yourself from running over the events of the morning in your head, focusing on how schlatt would smile at you and how he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

you just have to be careful, you kept telling yourself. don’t get your hopes up.

it was too late. you couldn’t help it; your hopes were high. he made you feel… normal again. it had been almost six years since you felt that way. now you were just praying it would last, even if for only a night.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ personal trainer!jungkook ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request: closed

inspo from tiktok

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

//

personal trainer!jungkook has trained a handful of people, but you have to be the most entertaining one yet. every morning you walk in with your 32oz hydroflask filled with water and ice and a sleepy smile. he thinks it's the funniest thing ever because you don't even end up drinking half of what you're bringing. he always teases you about it. in return, you mock him regarding his newest haircut (secretly loving every style on him) and how his commitment issues shouldn't be so obvious. he rolls his eyes, laughs, and playfully throws punches your way.

personal trainer!jungkook would listen to your new boyfriend stories in between sets and hate it. sometimes, he'd purposely mis-count your reps just so he can feel like he avenged himself. when you catch on to his "lack" of math skills, you groan, "you hate me, don't you?" he'd nod, saying yes but he'd mean no.

personal trainer!jungook's favourite day is legs/ass day. your ass pump has to be what gets him through the week (specifically why he suggested legs/ass day to be 4 times a week). he loves it when you wear your light pink fucking lululemon set. some days, you'll even tie your hair up and add a little ribbon to it. he'll flick it, saying you look stupid but what is actually stupid is how much he likes it on you. you joke, "i'll take it off if you'll let me tie it around your biceps hehehhee..." he scrunches his nose at you and chuckles, "in your dreams, princess." ... all of this has him acting up, tbh. when you do your squats, he takes breaks. he looks away or makes dumb excuses like needing to check something at the front desk just so he can ease his nerves. or, he’ll simply go to the washroom to splash his face with cold water. when he comes back, he helps spot you. you (purposely) arch your back too much whenever you do this set. you do this set quietly. he watches quietly. with other exercises, he helps improve your posture. "so, when you come up, you're going to squeeze your glutes, yeah? w-what's so funny?" you snicker at him and throw your head back. "n-nothing! you have a cute bum." he glares at you. "shut up." you put your hands up but quickly drop them to his bum level and pretend to squeeze them. "my ass is like... twice yours." jungkook then chuckles, "i know. i built it. i own that ass."

personal trainer!jungkook knows what he's doing when he wears his fucking compression shirts. white, black, grey, navy blue—any. your favourite combination has to be the classic white with grey sweats. god, it's crazy. his body is carved in the most sexy way possible... it's enough to get you to the gym even when you're on your period. what makes this worse is that he's usually in a cheekier mood when he's in his compression shirts. maybe it's because he knows he's hot... it's also times like these where you act a lot cuter during your workouts. "and then when you pull down like this... you're basically working on your lats—" jungkook pauses and gives you a look. you smile, snickering at him because you finally know what your lats are and it's all thanks to him. low, he offers you his high-5. you high-5 him and then close your hands together. like a little handshake, he squeezes your hand and for a moment—just a mere fleeting moment—you two hold hands.

personal trainer!jungkook knows you respond well to praise. when he knows you had a heavier training day the day before, he's nice enough to give you low-intensity work outs the next day. still, as you struggle to push through, he doesn't let you cut out. instead, he empowers you and feeds your delulu. "you got this, ___. come on, drive it up. yes! just like that. mhmm, good, good. good job, mama. one more, last one... yes! see? knew you could do it. that's what i like to see! let's fucking goooo!" you catch your breath and glare at him. "i h-hate you." he shrugs. "proud of you. you did well. rest up... you have one more set."

[bvidzsoo]

An Imprisoned Nightingale

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: violence, a lot of manhandling, cursing, and mentions of human trafficking

Pairing: Choi San x female reader

Word count: 15,4k

Summary: Choi San was everything you needed him to be. A hunter? He’d hunt down anything for you. An assassin? You wanted someone dead, he’d do it. An inside man? That information you needed; he’d bring it to you. He was a mercenary. Ruthless, fearless, uncaring, unfeeling. All he dreamed of was money and power. Everyone who heard his name feared him, people stepped aside on a busy road for him, women never approached him out of fear of being captured and then sold by him. You loved singing, despite working as a waitress, you dreamed of performing on a stage one day. Your whole life you've worked hard, knowing that one day you'll be discovered and your life would change; you'd become a performer for the wealthy. And your life did change, but instead, you became a prisoner, soon to be sold off by nobody else than Choi San. (Reader is called Im Ara in the following oneshots.)

A/N: My God, writing this was a whole ass ride, I want to punch San personally lol. It's never explicitly said that it's human trafficking, but it's quite obvious that it's that. :// I don't go into much detail about it, so yeah...the third part of the series is up and I hope you'll enjoy it. Hongjoong's part will be up in around two to three weeks because I'm going on vacation. If you want to be added to the taglist, just comment on the post. And don't forget to let me know what you think about this part, enjoy now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329

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           The sun shone down on the little cottage sitting by the end of the cobblestone street, stationed somewhere on the outskirts of the bustling city. The neighborhood was quiet, most families living in the neighboring cottages being of working class, with three to four children. I liked this part of the city, because everyone was nice and it was clean. The further you ventured inside the city, the dirtier and louder it got. It was an industrial city and the markets reeked of fish and pigs; the smells combined disgusting. If I could, I stayed away from that side of the city, content with the serenity the outskirts offered. And perhaps living here felt like I was closer to achieving my dreams. If I walked down the path leading towards the forest and hiked for an hour, I would arrive to a huge clearing adorned by a house smaller than a castle, yet bigger than a mansion. The Royal Family loved coming here during the summer, it was their little hideout. Wealthy businessmen and gorgeous rich ladies would walk the streets, all headed towards the Royal Family’s place, invited for an afternoon tea or perhaps a midnight ball. I always peaked out the window when I heard horses pulling carriages by the house, knowing very well that all I could do for now was admire from afar. I was working towards to achieving my dream, but I was still a long way from it. The false sense of richness and wealth this little cottage offered was nothing but fake. I could barely afford it, sometimes not having money for weeks lead me to cultivating my own garden, which turned out to be a lot harder to do than I had initially expected it to be. The elderly family living next door wasn’t very keen of the idea, saying it lured foxes and other kinds of animals from the forest, threatening their chickens and other pets they kept around, acting as if their animals weren’t the ones drawing in the wild life from the forest. I learned to ignore the couple’s nagging, but continued keeping an eye on them, making sure they wouldn’t attempt sabotaging my little garden.

I had opened the windows, the warm breeze carrying inside as I dusted everything off with a wet cloth. It’s been a week since I’ve had a full day to myself, and so I took advantage of it, and cleaned up my house. It was quite easy and fast as it had only three chambers and a small bathroom, however, my thoughts stole me away from reality quickly and so, this simple task turned into an unnecessarily longer one. The modest pink dress I was wearing seemed to turn into a carefully designed, soft fabric, night gown, making me look like a princess. My short hair always seemed to be pulled into intricate braids, quite impossible in real life as I could barely tie it up into a low ponytail. And the wet cloth I was holding in my hands suddenly turned into a white tissue, or sometimes a small purse, occupying my hands, saving me from feeling too awkward. My humble living room turned into a huge ballroom decorated by expensive marble and low hanging golden chandeliers, paintings from other Kingdoms brought in, captivating everyone’s attention. The living room which only I was occupying was suddenly filled with hundreds of wealthy people, laughing and conversing, enjoying each other’s company. I stood to the sidelines, observing everyone, finding myself smiling at a little girl dancing by herself. She seemed to be lost in her own world, oblivious to everyone around her as she went closer to the band of musicians, the violin catching her attention. My legs started moving and I found myself walking over, approaching her.

“Pretty instrument, isn’t it?” I asked softly, making her look at me with big eyes.

“It sounds lovely.” She said shyly, looking away when I glanced at her. I nodded my head and clasped my hands behind myself, having to agree with the little girl.

“You’re quite lovely as well, little one.” I said with a smile and the girl chuckled, twirling around, showing off her pale blue dress. It complimented her similar colored eyes well, her tan skin glowing underneath the candle lights.

“I like the shade of pink your dress has.” She complimented me back, showing how well raised she was. I thanked her quietly and a woman rushed towards us, panting lightly.

“Here you were,” She muttered as she took her daughter’s hand into hers, slightly relaxing, “Stop walking away from me, Y/N, it’s not safe for a little girl like you to be alone.”

How peculiar, her name was the same as mine. The woman finally seemed to notice me and when she looked up, and made eye contact with me, she seemed to be in awe. She smiled brightly and extended her hand.

“It’s an honor meeting you, Miss Im,” She spoke up as I shook her hand, “My name is Im Nara.”

“Lovely meeting you, Mrs. Im.” I said pleasantly, listening to the woman’s rant about her wishing to meet me sooner but she wasn’t capable of attending balls due to her daughter being too young, and her wish was to bring her child to these exquisite gatherings with herself. I felt accomplished as I listened to the woman, her praises warming my heart, allowing me to take pride in myself. I have worked hard to get on this level, to be recognized and appreciated by men and women alike, even children. Anyone who had a mildly nice voice could become a recognized singer in their little town, but I stayed persistent, hard-working, and never allowed anyone to push me down, and that’s how I became so well known in the four seas and four kingdoms. Queens and Kings requested me to sing at their balls, weddings, and sometimes even invited me over for a quiet afternoon tea, making sure I had everything I needed. I was living the lavished life I always wanted and for once in my life, I felt accomplished.

I excused myself from the woman and her child as the lovely musicians stopped playing and announced that a special performer would entertain the guests for an hour now. I smiled and after taking a sip of water, soaking my throat for a little, I walked up to the middle of the stage and bowed my head, “Welcome, everyone, I hope your evening has been lovely so far. Allow me to entertain you for the following hour, I have been Im Y/N.”

And so I allowed my voice to grab everyone’s attention as I started singing a soft tune everyone knew. The song was about a pair in love whom had to go through hardships in life before they found each other and settled for a simple life. The man was a fisherman and the woman a princess, but she gave up everything for him. Her parents were strict and never allowed her to love someone freely, so she ran away from home and accidentally bumped into the love of her life on a pirate ship. Not many lived to tell the tale of such an encounter as pirates were known to be ruthless and scary, yet somehow, the princess seemed to charm the sailor. Everyone clapped when I finished the song and I cleared my throat, continuing with the next one, my powerful voice resounding in the expanse of the vast room, bouncing back off the walls. Once my little act of entertainment was over, everyone clapped loudly and I bowed deeply, thanking them for their attention and appreciation before I walked off the stage, headed to the little bar to ask for some water to freshen up my vocal chords.

A few minutes have barely passed since I had gotten off the stage and I was already surrounded by various people, each trying to grab my attention. I chatted with the lovely ladies, complimenting their outfits or jewelry, getting invited to their get togethers in return as a performer. The single wealthy men seemed to watch me from afar before reluctantly approaching me, remaining delicate as if they were scared I would run away. Some tried to win me over with tales of their doings, or by bragging about their money, something I wasn’t interested in. The one and only question they had to answer was that if we ever fell in love and married one day, would they want me to be a pretty trophy staying at home all day long and doing nothing or would they let me to continue my singing career. If the answer was that they’d prefer I stayed at home, I would excuse myself and find company from someone else, however if they said I was allowed to continue singing, I would entertain the conversation, wondering if we were a match made in Heaven. However, nobody ever seemed to be good enough. Their personalities just pushed me away as I didn’t feel appreciated enough, and I found peace in my solace, content with being able to fend for myself and live a happy life.

The King’s second cousin seemed to find me in the crowd of people and he invited me over to their table, asking me to sit with them. It was an honor, so I couldn’t refuse. I greeted everyone politely and the women were quick to ask where my gown was from and if they sent an invite to sing at their birthday parties, if I would come. I chuckled and told them that if I was free I would gladly do so, making them squeal in excitement before they whispered to each other excitedly. I accepted the glass of champaign from the King’s second cousin and he made a silly toast, the table erupting in laughter. As I took a sip from the champaign, I felt eyes watching me. I attempted to look around the room, but the culprit was sitting right across from me. He was a very handsome man. His jet-black hair was gelled back, a few stray strands falling into his sharp, slit like eyes, their color a deep brown. His lips were plump and glistened from having licked them after taking a sip of his own champaign, the bridge of his nose tall, complimenting his manly face well. His aura was rather intimidating, yet no malice radiated off of him. Catching myself staring at him, I blushed, and quickly looked away, making the man smile. His whole demeanor seemed to change once a charming smile was on his lips, he looked rather endearing. He was wearing a General’s uniform, making it quite clear that he was part of the Royal Guard. I have never seen such good-looking man, and I found myself wishing to talk to him, bewitched. He seemed to be quiet as he observed the people around the table, only speaking when spoken to and rarely laughing or smiling. My heartrate picked up when we made eye contact again, becoming shy as he flashed me a small smile, his adorable dimples showing. The King’s second cousin tapped my hand to gain my attention and I looked at him with a smile, trying to focus on the conversation at hand rather than at the handsome General.

“Tell us, Miss Im,” The King’s cousin started, with a cheeky smile, “Still haven’t found your other half?”

I chuckled, a little embarrassed that my love life was brought up in front of the General, but played it off, “I haven’t, Sir, it seems as though the perfect match for a hopeless romantic like myself doesn’t exist.”

The people at the table laughed at my words, apparently funnier than I thought they were as I was being honest, but it seemed to gain the General’s attention. He sat up straighter in his seat and raised his glass when he caught me peaking at him, lightly tilting it in my direction. I grabbed my own glass of champagne and nodded, the two of us drinking from our glasses at the same time, “Well, dear Miss Im, I feel it became my personal mission to find you an educated and well-mannered man.”

I truly wished the King’s second cousin stopped talking, but he was tipsy and his filters disappeared, “Everyone at this table, however, is already married—”

“I am not.” All eyes fell on the General, who’s voice demanded respect, not too deep yet not high pitched either. I couldn’t help but blush and avert my eyes when his gaze became too much, and the King’s second cousin let out a satisfied sound.

“How silly of me!” He exclaimed, and stood, taking my hand in his, “Let’s introduce you to General Choi.”

Despite wanting to act coy, I couldn’t help but feel excited as the King’s cousin walked us around the table, towards the General, who stood up. I couldn’t help but find myself mesmerized by his presence, his eyes drawing me in. Who was this man? Have I finally found my other half? And as the General extended a white glowed hand to shake, loud knocking caught my attention. I glanced around to see if anyone else heard it, but nobody moved, nobody reacted. I smiled, a little tense, and went to shake the General’s hand, when the knocking turned into banging. I jumped, frightened, watching as the image around me became washed out, fading away. I panicked and tried to hold onto the General’s hand, desperately wishing for him to be real, but instead, I found myself crashing against the front door.

“Im Y/N! Open the door!” The scratchy voice of the landlady made me groan, head resting against the door as my perfect fantasy faded away. I wasn’t the famous singer anymore attending balls of the wealthy, getting invited to get togethers and birthday parties, meeting the love of my life. I was just a poor girl living in a cottage I could barely afford, working at an Inn which didn’t pay well, and also, I have barely cleaned anything in the house.

I sighed, and opened the front door, “Were you trying to ignore me, cheeky girl?!”

“No, Mrs. Yoon, I was just—”

“Disturbing everyone with your loud screeching.” The woman interrupted me rudely, making my jaw clench. The one screeching here was her and not me.

“Where’s my money, anyway?” My eyebrows furrowed and I quickly glanced behind me, eyes falling on the calendar I designed myself placed on the wall. The end of the month would be in two weeks, why was she asking for rent right now?

“You’re a bit early on rent, Mrs. Yoon—”

“I’m not early, you’re the one late.” I sucked in a deep breath, telling myself that it was alright if she interrupted me, “You didn’t pay last month, and haven’t paid this month either.”

“Because it’s not the end of the month, yet.” I tried to reason with the old woman, but she just scoffed and gave me a glare.

“You have until the end of the week to pay me last month’s and this month’s rent, young lady.” My stomach churned at her words, realizing I didn’t have enough money for that. And I wouldn’t have by the end of the week either, “And stop screaming.”

That was the last straw as my patience evaporated and I snapped at the old hag, eyes narrowed at her, “I’m singing, not screaming!”

The old woman just scoffed and turned on her heels, stalking off as she kept throwing glares at my way, making me grimace at her before I slammed the door shut, doom seemingly looming over my head. I can’t lose the cottage, what am I supposed to do now?!

            My free day passed by quickly and I found myself almost oversleeping my shift, having to get ready in a frenzy. Usually the afternoon naps I took to be able to work all night long were short, however, after working all day in the garden beforehand left me tired and I didn’t wake up in time. I was lucky I had prepared my dress before going to sleep and all I had to do was put it on before running out the door, wishing I owned a horse as I would get to the Inn faster. It was a good twenty minutes’ walk away, on top of a hill to make my life even more torturing than it already was. The petite sandals I wore to match the dress weren’t made for running and my feet kept tangling together every second step, making me lose my cool quite quickly. I could usually control my temper, but sometimes the smallest things got to me. However, I managed to be on time and the Inn’s owner gave me a glance and a nod of approval before she told me to put on my apron and start waitering the tables. Thankfully, I managed to convince the owner to allow me to sing in the weekends, entertain the guests a little without her having to pay me for it, the tips of the people would do. At the beginning it was awkward as the people seemed to find it weird, but after getting used to it, more and more people started coming to the Inn, intrigued by the new form of fun. Sometimes drunk sailors who were passing through the city would ask me to sing them old tales, something I didn’t know even existed until now, making me become an expert at them in about just a month. Sometimes people wished for lullabies, some sad ones, and I would do as they asked despite the Inn not being a place for feeling nostalgic. My favorite ones were the catchy ones, to which everyone sang along and sometimes even danced if the atmosphere was right.

Tonight it seemed to be a busy night as all tables were occupied, somebody entering the Inn every fifteen minutes. My act of entertainment lasted less as I had to help out the other girls, but I promised to sing to the people more when I had a little free time, making them cheer loudly. Unfortunately, my singing career hasn’t taken off in the real world like in my fantasy world, I was not invited to wealthy outings. I hoped and prayed every night that it would happen sooner than later, trusting in it and allowing the Heaven’s to guide me. I couldn’t let my dream go to waste; I wouldn’t accept living a normal, regular life. Not when I was talented, not when I loved singing. I knew my worth, I knew I deserved more than working in a run-down Inn, the payment not even enough to live in a nice, small cottage.

“Hey, Y/N, bring us another jug!” I heard a regular calling out drunkenly and I sighed, running up to the bar and filling five jugs with beer. I placed them on my tray and walked up to their table, placing the jugs of beer on the table and taking the empty ones. As I was walking back to the bar to wash the used jugs, I felt someone tugging on my skirt, halting my steps. I turned around, eyebrows furrowed at who was grabbing me.

“Can you bring us more beer too?” It was a man, teeth crocked and clothes dirty, quite foul smelling. I tried to keep a straight face, having not recognized him as he wasn’t a local. I nodded wordlessly and yanked the skirt of my dress out of his grip, sighing to myself. The other girls were working hard, everyone busy with their own tables and I watched one as I filled three more jugs with beer. She was the youngest and quite pretty, but she allowed men to touch her too much. They were all over her, groping her, saying disgusting things to her. And she remained silent, she just took it, and even flirted back, making me feel sick to my stomach. No man has ever touched me, not here and not anywhere else. I wouldn’t allow a lowlife to taint me, when I knew there were good man out there too, the ones who were on my level, the ones who would treat me right. I walked with the jugs of beer back to the table of the unknown man, placing them down on the table. They looked at me and snickered at each other, but I ignored it. I was usually very nice to everyone, always smiling and soft-spoken, but I did not like their approach towards me, therefore I tried to convey the very obvious message without having to say something. However, they seemed to not catch onto it, as the same man who grabbed me before, suddenly held onto my skirt again.

“Listen, pretty lady,” He slurred, making me glare down at him, “We’re just passing through the city and decided to stop here tonight, heard there was a really good singer. And you weren’t just good, look at how beautiful you are too!”

“Thank you.” I managed to say and tried to pull my skirt out of his grip, but he was holding it rather firmly.

“Do you get paid enough?” I didn’t answer his intruding question, just tugged on the skirt again, “Well, there’s always more ways to make money, beautiful, and I could give you not just that, but a memorable night too—”

“Let go of my skirt, right now.” I snapped, my voice raising. The man looked taken aback by my demeanor, all softness and kindness having disappeared.

“That’s not how a lady should talk like—”

“I said, let go of my skirt.” I yanked rather harshly on it, finally getting it free from his grip. The man didn’t seem too happy and when I went to walk away, he grabbed my wrist, looking at me with a sneer.

“You should respect men more—” I chuckled, gripping his wrist back with my other hand, glaring at him as I cut his words off.

“A lowlife like you should respect women more—” Then I squeezed his wrist hard, making him hiss as he released my hand suddenly, “And don’t touch me.”

Well, I have angered the man now, and he stood up, trying to get all up in my face, but I pushed him hard enough to have him sit back down. He was being loud and a few people started glancing our way, “How dare a bitch like you talk to me like that?! As if you don’t sell your body—”

The slap which cut his words off resounded in the whole room, making people look at us wide eyed. The man was speechless for a few seconds, before his hands turned into fists and he jumped up, about to punch me, but a man stood in front of me, gripping the foreigner’s collar, “We don’t appreciate men who hurt women here, buddy.”

It was the regular who asked for beers before these hooligans, “My advice is you either settle down or get lost.”

The regular was a big man and despite his friendly aura and happy demeanor, he was scary whenever he got angry. You rarely saw him angry, so that’s why it was even scarier when he truly was. He was quite gentle with all the girls here and on busy nights we found him lingering around, looking out for us without a reason. Later we found out he was the owner’s nephew and felt like we were exposed to men like this foreigner, who did not know how to behave, quite frequently, so when he had nothing else to do he’d keep an eye out for us.

The owner of the Inn assessed the situation as she came out from the backroom, and quickly approached us, asking her nephew to release the foreigner, “Sir, please calm down and don’t cause a scene—”

“That bitch can’t behave!” The drunk sailor pointed at me as he screamed, making the owner’s nephew take a threatening step towards him. The sailor cowered a little bit and sat down as his comrades started telling him to stop it, realizing the man looking out for me could knock them out in a fight anytime. He was twice their sizes. The owner motioned for me to follow her and I turned at her nephew for a second, thanking him quietly, before walking towards the backroom.

“What happened out there?” She asked as she sat down in her chair, eyebrows furrowed. I sat opposite her, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“He started touching me and implying disgusting things, so I asked him to stop and he didn’t listen…” I trailed off, looking away as the owner narrowed her eyes at me.

“Did you slap the man?” She knew me too well; I couldn’t even lie. This wouldn’t be the first incident; she has already warned me to behave. I could only hope she wouldn’t fire me; I really didn’t know what I would do next then.

“I did—”

“You should head home,” My eyes widened at the owner’s words, confused as to why, “Your shift would end in an hour either way, so it doesn’t matter much. I don’t have the money, so come back tomorrow for the payment.”

I nodded and got up from the chair, untying the apron from my waist and placing it on her desk, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, good night.” I bowed my head and she stopped me as I got to the door.

“Be careful on your way home, I heard Ateez docked down in the city a few days ago.” When I continued to look confused at my boss, her eyebrows furrowed, “Women have been disappearing, Y/N, I’m telling you to look out.”

“Oh,” I chuckled and brushed off her words, my route not taking me towards the center of the city, “Thank you for your concern, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” My boss muttered and I bowed my head before going outside, leaving through the back of the Inn, not wanting to see that foul foreigner again. I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t have slapped him again if I did see him. Men like him disgusted me. I hated these types of so-called men. They held no value in my eyes, they worth nothing.

I checked my surroundings, my boss’ words getting a little bit to me, but I knew there was nothing to be afraid of. The crime rate in this city was low and since I lived towards the outskirts of it, it was safer than walking towards the center, where the markets were. At night it was littered with drunk men, looking for one-night stands. Perhaps if I lived there, I would have been scared walking alone at night, but here it was fine. I was humming to myself, skipping from one cobalt stone to the other, imagining that I was walking towards my carriage to head back to my little mansion. I would take a bath there, have a ravishing dinner and perhaps gaze at the stars in my rose garden before going to sleep. My butler would be already asleep, and I’d try to remain quiet as to not wake him up, but he’d still wake up, and so I’d ask him to join me in the garden, point out the constellations I was unable to see. He loved astronomy and would talk about it a lot, passing his interest onto me as well. Footsteps behind me made me snap out of my daydream and I looked behind, but nobody was there. I rolled my eyes and continued walking, figuring it was a stray animal or something. But a few minutes later I heard it again, now faster and harder, and before I could panic and take off running, I felt a body collide against mine. I would’ve screamed if it weren’t for the cloth pressed harshly against my mouth and nose, smelling foul, the smell making my throat itch as I inhaled it. I wanted to push this person away, but my muscles went numb fast and my vision started blurring, until it became blacker than the night sky.

            My stomach was violently ill when I finally came to it, the stench of fish unbearable as it made me gag. I moved the back of my hand against my nose, trying to repress the smell, but it wasn’t doing much. My ears seemed to be ringing and I was thrown forward, as if something crushed into us. I didn’t understand the predicament I woke up to at first, confusedly looking around, until my eyes fell on the iron bars holding me captive in a small dice shaped cage. The weight around my wrists finally caught my attention and I looked at them flabbergasted, tugging on the chain, to no avail. I was chained against the wall, having little freedom to move around in the cage. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to remember how and when I got here, but my last memory was of walking home after my boss sent me off. And then it clicked, the foul-smelling cloth pressed against my nose and mouth, I was drugged. I was drugged and brought onto this…ship? A lump formed in my throat as I frantically looked around, assessing the situation, trying to think of something. However, my heart beat faltered when I saw the other girls around me. There were three more cages besides the one I was in and two scared looking girls in each one of them. A quiet whimper caught my attention and I looked to my right, eyes falling on a younger looking girl, who was curled up in a ball, eyes teary. Her wide eyes looked at me, fright bouncing off of her. My heart started beating faster as things started sinking in, and I found it harder to breathe. My throat was closing in on me, restricting any air from getting to my lungs. I tried to divert my attention to anything else, even find comfort in one of my fantasy scenarios, but nothing seemed to work as I felt my face going red, starting to gasp for air.

“Hey, you!” I heard someone slightly raising their voice, making my head snap in their direction. Across from us, in the cage to the right, a middle-aged woman was looking my way, eyebrows furrowed, “What’s your name?”

I licked my lips and tried to suck in a deep breath, but it wasn’t working and I felt like I was about to choke, “No-no, keep breathing, copy me.”

The middle-aged woman started taking deep breaths, counting for me, and I tried to copy her, but nothing happening for a few minutes. Then suddenly, I could feel my throat loosening up and air finally flowing into my lungs, filling them to the brim. I started coughing as I desperately breathed in more air, looking at the woman with gratefulness written all over my face, “My name is Y/N.”

“I’m Hyolin.” She introduced herself and I bowed my head slightly, noticing that she was the only one not crying besides me. Her eyes were red and she kept sniffing, but no tears left her eyes, “We’re on a pirate ship, if you’ve been wondering.”

My heart started beating faster again as I looked around, pulling on the chains of my handcuffs, but they were too strong to break. The chamber was huge and it looked like some sort of basement, filled with supplies, barrels, and a big variety of guns and other weapons. I could see a fishnet filled with a bunch of dead fish and it made my stomach sicker, forcing me to gag as I averted my eyes, falling on my cellmate. She was crying quietly and I fought my own tears from rolling down my cheeks, trying to stop my brain from processing that I was a hostage on a pirate ship.

“For how long was I out?” I whispered to the young girl and she jumped, slowly looking at me. Her body was shaking and she looked at the floor before whispering back that I was out for a whole day. It felt like a punch to my gut and I looked away biting my lower lip, realizing that if I was out for a whole day, we have sailed out onto the sea already, taking me far away from my home. My head started thumping suddenly, all of my dreams slipping right through my fingers. I would never become a famous singer, I would never live a lavished life, I will never be remembered. Instead, I would be either sold off or killed, forever lost on the sea or in some creepy man’s basement. The first tear trickled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it off, the commotion behind the heavy wooden door making my body tremble. There were multiple male voices behind the door before it slowly opened, strong light flooding inside as they walked down the stairs, stalking towards our cages. All of us tried to make ourselves look smaller as the three pirates stopped in front of our cages, looking left and right before opening the cage across from ours.

“Stand up, all of you.” The man inside the respective cage demanded, his voice harsh and frightening, so we did as told. I could only see his backside, but he had jet-black hair and his shoulders were wide and concealed by a black leather jacket. The man seemed to be inspecting all of us, murmuring to himself about our looks. Normally, I wouldn’t have allowed him to make such comments, but right now I was not in a favorable position and my body was shaking from fear. I had no idea why he was doing this and I was scared that one wrong move would get me killed. On this ship I couldn’t do much but try and survive, however, once on land, I could try and run away, asking for help and making sure these monsters were behind bars, in a real prison. The tallest of the three seemed to notice my piercing gaze and I quickly looked down when he raised his eyebrows, lips pulling into an amused smile. There was nothing amusing about this situation.

“So, what do you think?” The other guy, who was the shortest out of them all and had a white cloth wrapped around his right forearm, signaling that he was the Captain, asked in a quite bored tone.

“They aren’t the brightest so far.” The man inspecting us dared to say with a sneer, checking the other girls. My blood boiled at his words, but I bit my lip and continued glaring at the floor.

“We can’t afford making a shitty deal, San.” The Captain snapped, arms crossed in front of his chest, “Not after Yuri almost destroyed our ship and Jongho released our Siren.”

The tallest scratched his nape, pouting, “Well, it wasn’t entirely Jongho’s fault, Captain…we should probably thank the Siren he’s still alive, to be honest—”

“Whatever, Mingi,” The Captain snapped, shooting him a glare, “If we don’t get high payment on these girls I’m afraid we’ll have to return to our old ways of survival for a while.”

San, the one checking all girls, opened our cage as he snickered, “I don’t mind at all. It’s been too long since I had bloodied my sword.”

My body shivered and my cellmate started crying loudly as San touched her hair, moving it out of her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. I wished I could’ve punched the man and held the crying girl, but I was rooted to my place, just as frightened as her. I refused to show my true feelings, however, having no intention of showing weakness to these monsters. I tensed up once I saw a pair of glistening black shoes stop in front of me, the man’s presence powerful. I lowered my head even more, for once wishing I had longer hair so that it would cover my face, restrict the men from seeing it. San tsked as he harshly grabbed my chin and raised my head by it, our eyes finding each other. Perhaps in a different scenario I would’ve been easily charmed by the man standing in front of me, his beauty unmatched. His jet-black hair fell messily on his forehead, he had clearly run his fingers through it numerous times. His sharp, slit like eyes, their color a deep brown were intense, keeping you pinned to your place, and I found myself scared to even breathe as we stared each other down. His lips were plump and glistened from having licked them just seconds ago, the bridge of his nose tall, complimenting his manly face well. He was intimidating and I fought against my will of wanting to cover away from him, refusing to show him any fear despite the very obvious tears gathered up in my eyes. Suddenly, he chuckled and smirked, eyes running all over my face, then down my body before stopping on my hair again.

“I knew you’d bring us a lot of money when I spotted you last night,” My jaw clenched as his words made the Captain and the other man, called Mingi, look my way, “You’re drop dead gorgeous, angel, pity your hair isn’t longer, you would’ve made us even more money.”

My jaw clenched and I ripped my head out of his hold, looking off to the side, head turned away from him. I couldn’t believe such malice could hide behind such a beautiful face. I hated him as he chuckled, looking me over one more time before he walked out of our cage, locking the iron door behind him, smirking at the Captain.

“We’ll be filthy rich, Hongjoong.” San said with the evilest laughter I’ve ever heard and the other two men chuckled as the three of them took off, headed for the stairs. The silence was deafening as we waited for them to be gone, and I felt the tears finally streaming down my cheeks once they were out the door, locking it behind them. My knees gave out and I fell down, holding my head in my hands as I started sobbing loudly. I felt the pitiful gazes of the other girls and it made me cry even harder. I wished I was so ugly they would just feed me to the sharks, at least I could try and swim away then, have a chance at saving myself. I couldn’t lose my perfect life like this, I just couldn’t.

            We couldn’t tell whether it was day or night due to being locked down here, but when Mingi walked in with a few more lanterns and muttered that he’d bring us dinner soon, we realized it was probably around the evening. Everyone seemingly had calmed down a little bit since San examined us, the girls constantly giving me pitiful glances. I hated it, wanted to ask them to stop, but remained quiet. If they thought they were safe because San called just me beautiful, I wouldn’t want to destroy their small sense of security, because I knew how much it meant. I tried to distract myself multiple times, the rocking of the boat making me sleepy but I refused to sleep, scared that the pirates would do something to me. No matter how hard I tried to imagine that I was in a different place, finding a fitting scenario for my current reality, it never lasted for too long. The image became blurry until it disappeared altogether, making me sit on the floor with my back against the wall defeated, wondering where they were taking us. I was from the South Kingdom, living on the furthest island from the mainland. It would take around four to five days to travel between the two on a big ship, but I didn’t know how big and fast these pirates ship was, so I couldn’t judge how much it would take us to arrive. I assumed they were taking us to the Capital, but I wasn’t even sure why I was captured in the first place. Hyolin, who turned out to be the oldest amongst us girls, seemed to be the only one fully understanding the situation, but she refused to tell us. She asked us if we’ve heard about Ateez and Choi San, and remained silent after hearing our answers. I did know Ateez was a pirate crew, but I didn’t know who Choi San was…until today. I assumed he was some sort of trader, but his physique said otherwise. His muscular and well-defined body begged to differ, and the big sword secured around his hips also proved my theory to be true. He was probably something like a soldier, not a trader. I had no idea what ranks pirates had on their ships, but I imagined San to be at the front leading, fighting the enemy.

Not knowing what to do with myself anymore, I found myself quietly humming as three girls had fallen asleep, curled up on the cold floor into themselves, hugging their torsos. The young girl sharing the cage with me had calmed down hours ago, but she wouldn’t stop sniffing and rocking back and forth. She also wasn’t talking to us, so I figured I could try and distract her with a sailor song I knew. I found myself quietly singing, staring off into the distance, looking at nothing in particular as I lost myself in the story of the song. It was about a young woman who lived by the beach by herself and wished to meet her lover who got lost on the sea years ago. They would have been married already, but the mates of her lover said he got shoved into the sea by a big wave, forever lost to the water. The young woman never believed her lover was dead, her gut telling her that he’d return home to her and they’d live a happy life together. And she seemed to be right as one night someone knocked on her door, making her almost faint. It was her lover and he looked better than ever. She flung herself in his arms and they cried for hours, the man telling her everything that’s happened to him after he fell in the sea. Apparently, some mermaids saved him but kept him hostage, scared that he’d lead other sailors to their lair. After years of teaching them about humans and helping them whenever one of them was sick, they finally released the man, trusting him enough to keep the secret about their existence. The woman couldn’t care less about mermaids and finding them, her biggest treasure was sitting right in front of her, all she needed was him.

“Your voice is so beautiful.” The young girl spoke up for the first time willingly since we’ve been here, her voice high pitched and shaky. I looked at her surprised, and smiled at her softly.

“Thank you, dear.” I whispered, resting my chin on my knees, which were pulled up to my chest.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” She asked, finally willing to converse with us. She had nothing to lose by doing so at this point.

“Nowhere,” I sighed, playing with the skirt of my dress, “My grandparents once took me to their good friends when I was little and they asked if I played any instrument. When I told them I didn’t they told me I could always try and sing, use my own voice as an instrument.”

The young girl listened closely, looking a little curious, “You’ve been singing for a long time, then. Are you famous?”

I chuckled and shook my head, “No, not even a little bit.”

A gloomy feeling seemed to loom over our heads as I sighed loudly, closing my eyes, “It was my dream…to become famous. To sing for the wealthy. To be invited to gatherings and the Royal family’s balls as a performer, but—now I’m a prisoner on a pirate ship. I’ll never become a well-known singer. All of my hard-work was in vain, I just—I wish I was rather dead, than on this ship.”

An amused deep chuckle made all the girls still awake tense. The young girl beside me hid her face again, turning into the wall, her whole body shaking again. I opened my eyes and looked up, startled to find San standing right outside my cage. When did he get here? And how did we not hear him or even notice him until now? His lips were pulled into a twisted smile, looking very amused as he unlocked the door. I watched as he took a step inside, placing a tray of food down on the floor, never breaking eye contact with me. The young girl started whimpering, irritating me to no end, but I didn’t show my feelings. I tried to remain neutral as San stared me down, challenging me with his gaze to look away, to succumb to him. But I would never do that, I refused to cover in front of a lowlife like him.

“You’re not just beautiful, you have a beautiful voice too.” He said sounding almost amazed, an excited glint in his eyes, “You’ll be worth more than I thought initially.”

His words made me gulp and my palms turn into fists, but I refrained myself from saying anything, refusing to feed his energy with mine by being weak. San smirked and slightly leaned down, tilting his head to the side as I glared at him, “And forget about dying, beautiful, because nothing harmful will happen to you as long as you’re under my watch.”

But he was the reason I was even placed in a harmful situation. It was his fault that once we’re on the mainland something horrible will happen to me, to the other women in these cages. It was his fault that I would never achieve my dreams, it being the very few reason I found living worth. I acted without thinking, without considering that the tray of food was both for myself and my cellmate, without considering how hungry she must’ve been, forgetting how hungry I was myself. I kicked the tray with my leg, food getting on the floor, glaring at San with full hatred as his eyes slightly widened, his smug expression slipping for a second. He was far away from me, but it felt like he was breathing down my neck as he stood up straight, wide shoulders pulled back, jaw clenching. His gaze made me shiver involuntarily and he was out of the cage, slamming the door shut before locking it. The young girl jumped and I remained staring at San until he was out of the room, Mingi being the one to bring the other women their dinners. I wanted nothing more but to escape this hell.

            One or two days have passed since we’ve been taken prisoners on the pirate ship, but I couldn’t really pin point how much time has passed since I was kidnapped. It was continuously dark down here, where they kept us, and if it weren’t for Mingi always announcing what type of meal he was bringing for us, I wouldn’t have even known what time of the day it was. The atmosphere was quite somber as everyone was scared for their own lives, covering away whenever San entered the room. He kept coming down, sometimes laughing at us and teasing us with vile words, words I tuned out once I realized how foul of a person he was. He did this for his own enjoyment, because he liked seeing us scared and helpless. If I wasn’t on a ship, behind bars, I would’ve stood up for myself, making sure he never disrespected a woman ever again. But I couldn’t do that here, not when my scared cellmate started crying as San told us to change our clothes in front of him. She was begging him to turn around, embarrassed and humiliated when he slapped her hard, shouting at her to shut up. My body was shaking from anger and I clenched my hands into fists, trying to keep my breathing even, not wanting him to see how easily he could get a reaction from me. He smirked the whole time, entertained by the whole ordeal as the girls sniffled and whimpered while changing, covering underneath his intense gaze.

I didn’t feel better than them, I felt violated as his gaze ran over my body hungrily once I was out of my second-hand dress, the silk nightgown I was wearing the only thing concealing my private parts from unwanted eyes. I felt humiliated when he muttered that my freckle covered body was exotic and men would kill each other to get their hands on me, but I didn’t let any emotion show on my face as I held eye contact with him, chin high, as I pulled on the simple white dress he brought for us, staring him down spitefully. San seemed to be enjoying it, eyebrows raising when I threw my dress in front of his feet, making him bend down and pick it up himself, unlike the other girls who handed him their own dresses themselves. I could play innocent and fragile, and I would do just that, but not when my privacy and decency were being violated. Not when I wasn’t treated like a human being, not when I wasn’t respected. San’s lips pulled up in a wide grin, dimples forming on his cheeks, but he didn’t seem happy as he eyed the dress in front of him, shaking his head as he sucked on his cheeks. He probably didn’t expect any type of disrespect or challenge from any of us, thinking we were too scared to stand up for ourselves. But what could happen to me other than dying, while I was on this ship? Nothing, nothing that could scare me into subordination. Despite thinking that San would throw a fit and make me grab my dress and hand it to him, he didn’t, he just leaned down and picked it up, feeling the fabric of it.

“For someone who regards themselves so highly, you look rather cheap, Y/N.” I chuckled, his words triggering me enough to finally show just how irritated I was, but I remained silent. His gaze pinned me to my spot, challenging me as he waited for a retort, but nothing happened. I didn’t speak, didn’t move. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. It was so quiet in the chamber, that I thought the other girls stopped breathing. A ruckus upstairs seemed to get San’s attention, and finally someone called out to him, telling him to go help them. Our stare down finally came to an end and San walked away with a smirk, dangling the keys to our cages in his hands mockingly. If I could, I would’ve punched him unconscious right then and there, but the chains and iron bars were in my way, so I had to settle with the power of my imagination, where San wasn’t even breathing anymore.

Dinner time had approached once again, and us, the girls, had somewhat calmed down from the whole fiasco from earlier. It took a lot of coercing and encouragement from us for my cellmate to finally stop crying and I sung her whatever songs she wanted to hear, finally lightening her mood. Somehow I got her to smile as Hyolin and I told her funny happenings from our jobs, Hyolin being a baker. The young girl, who’s name we finally found out, was Eunchae. She was barely seventeen and it broke my heart that she was here with us, her whole youth stolen from her. It’s not like I was much older than her, but at least I got to live my life a little bit up until now. She told us her mother had only her and relied on her, so Eunchae was scared what would happen to her mother now that she’s disappeared from her life. We tried reassuring her that her mother would probably figure something out, but it only made Eunchae cry again. I felt bad, so bad for her. And promised myself, that if I could somehow save myself from this nightmare, I’d take her with me. Hyolin was a strong woman, I knew I didn’t have to worry much for her and the other women with us seemed to like her more than Eunchae or I, which was probably good. If Hyolin tried to break free as well, they’d follow her no doubt.

When the heavy door opened, everyone tensed and we watched as Mingi and San walked down with trays of food, each one of them handing them out to two cages. Of course, it came as no surprise, as San chose Eunchae and I’s cage, his eyes amused as I avoided his stare, preoccupied with my nails which had gotten a bit dirty. I didn’t want to see him after what he did earlier, anger cursing through my veins just at the memory of it. But I had to be smart. I was smart despite what everyone thought about me. I survived this long after my grandparents deaths thanks to it. I could be soft and persuasive, fragile looking, in the eyes of men. I knew I played my cards a little bit wrong until now in front of San, but damage control was still doable. I could still act dainty, and blame my previous behavior on the stress I was feeling, if he asked. Once he placed the tray of food on the floor for us, he didn’t leave the cage, just looked around, before leaning against the bars with a smug look, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Today he was wearing a casual fit, a white shirt which was barely buttoned, tucked inside his leather pants. He had two swords on each side of his hips and a long, dark blue, coat kept him warm from the harsh wind up on the deck. My body ached for some sunlight and a breeze, but I knew it wasn’t possible until I was on this ship.

“Well, I come bearing good news,” My heart shouldn’t have skipped a beat at his words, knowing not to hope for anything good since it was coming from this lowlife pirate, “we’re docking down tomorrow on the mainland, isn’t that exciting?”

Nobody answered his question, my body tense as my eyebrows furrowed. What would that mean? What would happen to us?

“Isn’t that exciting?” He repeated himself, his voice hard and it made Eunchae whimper as she quickly nodded her head, afraid he’d slap her again. My blood boiled, but I ignored it, having to play coy for once again.

“One small advice,” San dragged his words out, eyes falling on me, burning a hole in the side of my head, “When you’ll be no longer with me, behave, and your lives will be easier. Men don’t like stubborn and rude women, they like them weak and respectful, especially the men I do business with.”

I wanted to tell him to go jump off the ship, become the sharks dinner, but I bit my lower lip and gulped, still refusing to look at him, knowing very well he was directing his words mainly at me. But I still didn’t fully understand why I was here, and I wanted to know. Hyolin seemed to have accepted her fate long ago, but didn’t care to share it with us, seeing that we were quite literally in the same boat.

“What—” I stuttered, hoping it would look authentic as my voice was small, “What will happen to us once—once we’ll get to the mainland?”

I stared at the floor, playing my role, hopefully, well, “A couple of things, beautiful, but the most important one is that you’ll bring me tons of money.”

I gulped, “How?”

San chuckled as if my question was the funniest ever, crouching down, lowering his head as he was trying to make eye contact with me, but I didn’t look his way, “How, you ask? By selling your body for me.”

My blood ran cold when I heard his words, and my heart started beating like crazy, ears suddenly turning red. My hands started shaking and I clenched them into fists, hoping he wouldn’t notice as San stared at me with a crazed look in his eyes. No, this couldn’t be happening. I was pure, I was untouched, I couldn’t let men just…ruin my life like that. I had full autonomy over my body, nobody could take that away from me. Not San. Not anyone else. I let out a quiet breath, trying to think of a way of saving myself, of charming San into letting me off. I would be betraying the other women here with me, but I had to try. And if I succeeded, perhaps I could help them too later on.

“You—you said I have a beautiful voice—” I wasn’t faking my stutter anymore, my thoughts were so jumbled together that I didn’t know what I wanted to say first, “I can sing for you, entertain your men for you. My body—my body is not worth more than my voice, I—I can make you richer with my talent, I—”

“Angel,” San cut me off, slightly coming closer, voice almost softening, “If I wanted to make you a famous singer, you wouldn’t be here right now. And your voice isn’t worth more than your body.”

I gulped, feeling dread settling in my stomach. This really was the worst that could have ever happened to me. I shook my head slowly, feeling the tears in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. I couldn’t humiliate myself even more, not in front of this monster. San seemed to have lost interest in me as he stood up straight, smoothing out his coat, looking down at me with an amused expression.

“Did you think I kidnapped you to make you a princess, Y/N? This is the real world, not some sort of fantasy land. We all have to make money in some way—”

“But you’re selling women, to make money.” My voice was harsh as I snapped, raising my head, finally looking at him. I knew my face was red from anger, my cheeks burning as I pushed myself up, standing tall, yet shorter than San, “You’re using humans to make money, to live a lavished life, while you make others miserable. While you steal our lives away, you get to live a free life—”

“Not everything is fair in life, angel.” San said with a nonchalant shrug, seemingly amused by my outburst, only fueling my anger.

“Something not being fair in life means getting fired from your job, it means losing a loved one, it means working-hard yet never quite achieving your dreams not—not getting kidnapped off the streets by someone who’s playing God!” I couldn’t help it as I screamed at him by the end of my sentence, breathing hard and wishing my glare could kill him. San didn’t seem so amused anymore, his eyes narrowing at me, “A lowlife like you shouldn’t even look in our direction, San."

San tsked, letting out a loud laugh, startling the other women as they watched me with fearful eyes, Eunchae shaking her head, begging me to stop with her eyes, “Is that how you see me? What you think of me? A lowlife?”

“Have you never been insulted by a woman before?” I raised my eyebrows mockingly, watching San stalk towards me slowly, “Did you think just because you view us as some objects we wouldn’t have a brain to think with and to feel with? Can you even sell me off if I will not behave like a doll?”

“Yes,” San nodded, chuckling, stopping right in front of me, eyes piercing mine, “I can still sell you, because there’s some men who love it when their objects have a big mouth and more than two thoughts in their skulls, makes it more exciting, you know? More satisfying to see them succumb to them. More enticing when they fight back, only to be disciplined in mere minutes—”

It took me a great deal of self-control to not step back as San invaded my personal space, stopping just inches away from me as his voice dropped to a low whisper, “It makes it so fucking hot when you finally get to fuck them dumb into the mattress, making them a mess of cries and pleas, asking you to stop but they are never in charge, even if you let them think so for a moment.”

My lips parted in shock and I couldn’t help but gasp at his vulgar words, taking a step back, but San reacted fast as his hand was in my hair, yanking my head back, making me yelp. I had no time to react as something sharp and cold was pressed against my neck, making me freeze as I was afraid to even breathe, “I know the type of woman you are, angel. You act fragile and sweet as long as things are going your way, but once you realize you’re at disadvantage your true self starts showing. You can’t manipulate me and you can’t make me feel bad for you, because I don’t give a shit about you, angel. All I see is a bunch of coins in return for you body when I look at you, and that’s all I need. What happens to you after you’re free from my hands, I don’t give two shits about. You can go jump off a cliff or you can live the miserable life you were going to live either way in that small, foul and good for nothing city, Y/N. I made it worse, perhaps, or I made it better. I’ll never find out.”

“You have no idea what life I was living,” I breathed out, voice shaky as the knife pressed against my Adam’s apple, “But I can promise you that I will ruin you.”

San’s gaze melted into mine, his face lowering, our noses almost touching. My heartbeat faltered for a second and I shrunk back a little bit, his dominating aura finally getting to me. I hated him, so much, and I hoped he could see it in my eyes, in my expression. He should just kill me right now, making his own life easier. I always kept my promises, and this was my promise to him. I would make sure he’d be ruined once I was sold off. Suddenly, San started laughing loudly and he pushed me away, making me fall into the iron bars as I was thrown off balance, making the others stare at the ground as his wild eyes looked around, challenging the other women to say anything. Nobody seemed to be able to do so and he left us alone, not even bothering to lock my cell door, showing just how much power he held over us. How little good my outburst did.

            Our night was sleepless after my little fiasco and the other women were beyond frightened, whispering amongst each other, sometimes throwing glares my way. I couldn’t care less, I didn’t do anything wrong, I did no harm to them, I just ruined my chances of ever getting out of here unscratched. It was hilarious how my plan backfired on me, but it only showed how unlucky I have been lately. Nothing was going my way and nothing would ever go my way from now on. When the heavy door finally opened again, everyone knew it was the morning. Everyone knew we got to the mainland. Everyone knew our doom was closer than ever. It was Mingi again, with San walking after him. Mingi was holding a bunch of clothes, their color an ugly orange, and he opened all the cages, handing us the dresses as we stood ready. He was respectful enough to walk away once we had the dresses in our hands, knowing that we’d have to change now. San, just like last time, remained, watching us with a very pleased expression on his face.

“Well, ladies,” He said in a cheery voice, walking down between the cages, “We have finally arrived, I hope you enjoyed sailing with Ateez.”

I sneered at his words, but undressed myself, staring at the dress in my hands with disgust. It was heavy in my hands, and thick, the design tasteless the longer I looked at it. I couldn’t believe I was forced to dress into something so atrocious, but I just swallowed and pulled it on, instantly regretting it. It stuck to my skin and warmed me up, making my skin itchier. I haven’t washed up in days and it was only making me feel dirtier than I already was. San just smiled at me, not sincere nor happy, just mocking as his eyes ran over my body.

“What a fall from grace, angel, I suppose a dress like that wasn’t on your wish list, was it?” I scoffed and look at him as I have finished tying the front of the dress together.

“Orange is not my color, so thank you, for making me look uglier.” I bowed my head mockingly at him, his lean frame leaning against the doorway of the cage.

“I don’t mean to sadden you, but the men won’t be looking at your dress at all, angel, just at your pretty face.” Something wasn’t right about the dress though, it was sitting weirdly against my collarbones, I could feel it. I pulled on the sleeves of it, but it didn’t do much to fix the feeling, and San rolled his eyes before he walked up to me. I stepped back slightly, trying to maintain a normal distance between our bodies, but he just kept walking towards me until my back hit the wall, leaving no space for me to escape. My heart started thumping fast and I couldn’t help the sudden heat on my cheeks, so I just looked away, trying to conceal my face from him. He chuckled, but paid no mind as he raised his hand, about to touch the collar of my dress, right above my breast, but I slapped his hand away, whipping my head around to face him. San raised an eyebrow but tried to touch me again, and I just slapped his hand away again, but before I could lower my hand, he caught my wrist in his hand, holding me firmly.

“Don’t you think if I wanted to do anything to you I would’ve done it already?” He asked quietly, both eyebrows raised as he studied my face. I gulped but didn’t look away, just ripped my wrist out of his hand. He huffed and touched the collar of my dress again, not gentle at all, as he yanked on the fabric, making me gasp. Suddenly, a white collar, which I haven’t noticed was there before, came up from underneath my dress, going from my breasts up to my shoulders. I tensed when San’s finger lightly grazed against my skin, too close to my breast, but when I looked at him, he was already looking at me. I hissed and held his wrist the same way he held mine.

“You fixed the dress already,” I snapped, “No need to keep touching me.”

“I was just checking to make sure I did it right.” San answered smugly and I released his wrist, pushing him slightly back, hoping he’d get the message to disappear and leave me alone. He chuckled and batted his eye lashes at me mockingly before he turned around to walk away. I glared at the back of his head, wishing he would just disappear, never to be seen or heard of. I figured he wouldn’t be easy to take down in a fight due to his physique and sheer force he always seemed to use, but what if his attacker had the element of surprise? What if he didn’t see nor hear his attacker? What if he never even thought that person would attack him?

Without a second thought, my body flung into motion, acting on its own. I strained the chains of the handcuffs connected together and charged towards San as he was still close enough to attack from behind. I got on my tip toes and threw the chain around his neck, pulling it harshly towards me. The other girls exclaimed loudly as San gasped, his hands holding onto the chain barely, trying to pull it away from his throat, but I used all my force and power to choke him. Eunchae started crying loudly as San tried gasping for air, his body falling into mine almost as I applied even more force, panting as San was fighting back. My arms were straining and my wrists started aching from the handcuffs, but I didn’t stop pulling on the chain, determined to get the others and myself out of here before it was too late. But my initial thoughts about San turned out to be true, he was a lot stronger than he looked like, and with one harsh tug, I face planted into his wide and firm back, knowing that I messed up really bad now. The other girls suddenly went quiet and all was heard was San’s ragged breathing, his back moving up and down quickly. I shuddered and prepared myself for the repercussion of my actions, which came straight away. San turned around and his dark eyes fell on mine as he grabbed me by the hair harshly, a new glint in his eyes as he watched me enraged. My cuffed hands were behind his back now and I tried to break free, raise the chain over his head and push him away, but San didn’t allow me to do so. His flexed palm came flying towards my face and I tried to cover away, but to my surprise, he hit my Adam’s apple with such force that all air left my lungs instantly, making me fall forward, into him. Despite trying to breathe, my throat closed up and I could do nothing as I started choking in San’s arms, his hand still holding my hair harshly, looking down at me. As dark spots appeared in my vision I could swear San’s eyes softened just a bit, a sinister smirk appearing on his lips. And then everything went black.

            After getting knocked unconscious I woke up to being carried by San, the hot sun beaming down on my face. I gasped as I looked around, noticing that we were off the ship, even far away from the shore. Eunchae seemed to be walked by Mingi meanwhile another woman by a man I didn’t know, leading the group. I wasn’t chained up anymore and as I looked around, assessing the situation, San gave me one warning glare and muttered that if I tried running away or creating a scene he’d slit my throat before I could scream. That scared me enough to behave as we were led towards a run-down looking house, somewhere in the town. San placed me down minutes ago and I was able to walk on my own, his firm grip around my forearm keeping me close to his body. I took in our surroundings, trying to find a way of escape once San wasn’t by my side anymore, but we were quickly shoved inside the house, walked to a backroom, loud manly voices coming through the only other door in the room. My heart was in my throat, and I found myself sweating profoundly as San finally released me, giving me a glance before he disappeared through the door. I tried to take a peak while the door was open, and my heart sank when I saw tons of men in the other room. Was this really how our life would be from now on? Sold again and again, corrupted and used? I bit my lower lip and looked around the room, trying to find an exit, but there were no windows and the only door leading outside was blocked by Mingi, who seemed very focused in guarding the door. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked straight ahead, his hands clasped together in front of his body. He probably felt my gaze on him as he spared a glance my way, but when the other door opened, he quickly looked away. San stepped inside and dragged Hyolin away, slamming the door shut behind him. Eunchae started whimpering again as the other women gathered together, holding each other tightly. I found myself looking between the door and Mingi, begging with my eyes for him to let us go, but he wouldn’t look at me again. As Eunchae started crying, I found myself hugging her tightly, patting her head, telling her that everything would be alright. But nothing would be. She’ll be tainted, and I’ll be tainted too for life. I thought the Heavens wouldn’t do such thing to a human, but I realized my prayers were futile right now. No divine God would save me anymore. The door opened again and San took away another woman. Then another. And another. Two more went and when the door opened again, his eyes fell on Eunchae and I. I knew he’d come our way, so I pushed Eunchae behind myself and stood tall and fearless, staring him down. A smirk appeared on his lips as he stopped a few steps away from me, going to grab my cheek. I flinched and closed my eyes, but suddenly Eunchae’s wail snapped me back to reality, my eyes widening as San started pulling her after him.

“No—no—San—” But his glare instantly silenced me as he reached the door, eyes ablaze. Eunchae tried to wipe her tears away out of fear and tried to look somewhat composed, but one warning look from San made them fall again. I went to run up to them, but the other woman remaining in the room with me grabbed my wrist as San and Eunchae disappeared through the door, the young girl never to be seen again. My heart clenched and I wanted to cry out. I wanted to trash the room we were in. I wanted to rip the dress of myself and I wanted someone to punch me until my face was all bruised up, never to be called beautiful again. I hated everything about this. The tug on my wrist was harsh and I sniffed as I came face to face with the other woman, whose name was Dahyun.

“Pull it together,” She snapped, her own eyes teary, “You were the bravest out of all of us, if anyone can escape this, it’s you.”

I sniffed, a few tears falling from my eyes, “But he took Eunchae, I can’t run off like that—all of you will suffer, I can’t—”

“Stop thinking about us.” Dahyun’s voice raised but she glanced at Mingi and continued in a whisper, “We’re a lost cause, we don’t matter anymore. Save yourself while you can, Y/N, San seems to have taken a slight liking to you, use that to your advantage. You can charm anyone you want to.”

Her words gave me a little courage and I wiped my tears away, muttering a quiet ‘alright’ as the door opened and San looked inside. How did Eunchae get sold so fast? All of the other girls took around five to ten minutes, it’s been barely three. My heart clenched as I tried looking through the open door, the younger girl nowhere in sight. Dahyun seemed to have understood San as she sighed and released me, placing on a poker face as she walked towards him, brushing his hand off her forearm as she walked through the door by herself. San’s eyes met mine and his face was unreadable as he closed the door. I was next. I was the last one. After this, San would walk back to the pirate ship rich and I would walk away with a destroyed life. I had to stop this. I couldn’t just stand here and wait for my awful fate to happen.

“Do you enjoy this?” I found myself turning around, glaring at Mingi, “Watching women get sold off to some disgusting pigs?!”

Mingi didn’t react as he stared at the wall blankly, “Does it bring satisfaction to you seeing us in pain and despair? Are we really just some objects in your eyes?”

I was trying to make him feel any sort of emotion, but Mingi just sighed and slightly glanced at me.

“Please, I don’t deserve this—”

“I know, but it’s none of my business what happens here.” Mingi finally has had enough, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me with pity, “Everyone on the ship makes money in their own ways and I won’t sabotage San’s way of working.”

I gulped, trying to convince him somehow to let me go, “This is not about San, Mingi. This is about you. Your morals and what you believe in. Your dignity and respect for others—for women.”

“Shut up, please,” The tall man looked at me defeated, his hands clenched into fists, “once San decides to do something, nobody can stop him. If you think me stepping aside and letting you run away will help, will save you, trust me…it won’t. You could hide anywhere in the four seas and four kingdoms, and San would still find you. And once he does, he won’t be nice to you, he won’t try and sell you off again, Y/N. He’ll torture you until you’re barely breathing and then he’ll kill you in the slowest way possible, making you regret that you dared run away. He’s scarier than you think and he’s certainly more dangerous than you could ever imagine.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the door opened behind me again. Mingi tensed and quickly averted his eyes back onto the wall, San raising an eyebrow at him as he walked up to me, grabbing my forearm and whirling me around. My jaw clenched and I looked to the side, ignoring San’s burning gaze on my face. I knew he wanted me to look at him, but I wouldn’t. I had enough of his disgusting face. Not wasting any more seconds, he started walking, dragging me after him as my legs refused to move on their own. I really didn’t want to go through the door and when San’s hand gripped the knob, I panicked.

“Please,” I gasped out, hands flying up and holding his cheeks, San’s eyes going wide, “Please, don’t do this to me. I can make you rich in other ways. I can—I can work for you for the rest of my life, please, don’t sell me off. I’ve—I’ve never been touched—by a man before—”

It felt humiliating admitting this to him, but this was my last chance, I had to do my best. San’s dark colored eyes stared deeply into mine, seemingly lost in them as I cupped his cheeks firmly, standing on my tip toes to try and make this more intimate. All I could do was whisper, too scared that my voice would shake if I spoke any louder, “I can sing, I have a beautiful voice. I’m sure you have connections, if you place me amongst wealthy people I can perform for them and all the money will go to you. All you have to do is give me pretty dresses and I’ll handle the rest myself, please, San.”

I really thought my words got through to him as he relaxed in my hold, one hand gently holding my hand against his cheek. He sucked in a deep breath and then his eyes hardened, making me shake my head in a plea. San slowly peeled my hands off his cheeks, tugging me closer as our noses were just inches away from each other.

“Behave.” Was all he said before the door was opened and I was walked outside, the breath knocked from my lungs as I took in the sight before me. At least fifteen men were in the room, sitting helter-skelter and watching me with curious eyes, which slowly turned lustful. I felt my body shake as San still held onto me harshly, making sure I wouldn’t run away. My legs felt numb, even if I tried to, I wouldn’t have been able to move. All of my nightmares sat right in front of me and I bit my lower as San cleared his throat.

“Im Y/N.” His voice held authority as he looked down on everyone, eyes slits, “Quite the beauty, as you can see. She’s a little bit temperamental, but she’s got a rather calm and sweet nature. And I can assure you her voice is just as beautiful as her face and body.”

My jaw clenched and I side glanced San, feeling his grip tighten around me in warning. Everyone was quiet as they watched me and when San nudged me, I understood. He wanted me to sing. But I didn’t want to sing. I felt like a bird held in a cage, only used when needed, never to be free again. Like an imprisoned nightingale. I gulped once and closed my eyes, sighing loudly. If he wanted me to sing, I would sing. The first few octaves were quiet and frail as my voice wavered, but I quickly corrected my pitch and started singing the song about a poor girl taken hostage in a fire exchange between bandits and the constables, only to die an unfortunate death when her kidnapper accidentally killed her after promising to release her once the constables stopped chasing them. The song was short and sad, it usually made people cry, even I felt like crying right now, understanding the poor girl from the song very well. Claps erupted throughout the room, but I didn’t open my eyes, I didn’t want to see who would be my buyer. San had to say nothing as the men started shouting ridiculous sums of money, each one of them trying to be the highest bidding. The room went silent when a deep voice shouted that they were offering five gold bars and a sack full of coins. I heard San gasping quietly beside me and my eyes flew open, falling on a man in his mid-thirties, a black mustache on his face. His eyes were kind and his face friendly as he smiled at me, dressed better than anyone else in the room. Why did he want me? To make me his own captive bird? Despite being the most well dressed in the room, and the kindest and purest looking, there was something in his eyes which sent chills down my body and I knew that my life wouldn’t be long next to that man.

“Sold to the man with the white hat!” San suddenly exclaimed, beaming at the man and bowing his head as he started dragging me back to the room I was held in until now. I looked at him confused, but when he opened the door, Mingi already had a white dress in his hands, waiting for me. San said nothing as he pushed me inside and then slammed the door shut behind me, leaving me with Mingi. My heart was beating like crazy when Mingi walked up to me, carefully extending his arms for me to take the dress, but my legs gave out and I fell forward. Mingi went stiff as I held onto him, suddenly crying into his chest, too short to reach any higher. It took him a few seconds before he reacted, but he started patting my back awkwardly, trying to calm me down. I was bawling by now and I realized how vulnerable Mingi was being right now, perhaps the Heaven’s offered me one last chance. A chance I instantly took. I gripped his arms firmly and kneeled him in the crotch abruptly, making him cry out. I pushed him away and raced towards the door, finding it unlocked. I flung it open and cried out in happiness, not looking back as I took off sprinting, trying to find the center of the town we were in, needing to find the constable this instant. My dress was too long and too thick, but I didn’t care as I raised them above my knees and ran around like a mad woman, getting strange looks from the people walking down the streets, my cheeks still wet from my tears. I was panting by the time I made it to the busier part of the town and I allowed myself to stop for a minute to try and catch my breath. People walked around, all busy with their own things, merchants shouting whatever they had to offer at their stalls. The sun beamed down on me and I couldn’t have felt even more blessed as I allowed myself to chuckle in pure happiness. I was free.

I looked around again, and to utmost luck, my eyes fell on a man wearing a uniform, signaling he was from the night watch. It didn’t matter what his function was as long as he was a figure of authority, someone whom I could ask for help from. The officer was looking around too, watching the people, and when his eyes stopped on me, he slightly smiled. My heart somersaulted and I took off towards him, mouth already forming to cry out for him to help me, when an all too familiar hand around my waist gripped me and turned me around. I bumped into the body, starting to struggle against him, when suddenly a sharp knife was pressed against my liver. It cut through the dress I was wearing and my breath stuttered as I looked up in San’s angry eyes. He found me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip myself away from him. I wanted to punch and kick him until he wasn’t breathing anymore.

“If you scream, angel, I swear on the Heavens I will kill you right here.” I whimpered when I felt the knife pressing against my skin harder, gripping San’s biceps as if that would’ve stopped him from doing anything to me. San’s eyes darted to the side and I followed his sight, a lump forming in my throat as the officer was walking towards us, eyebrows furrowed. San looked back down at me, eyebrows slightly furrowing before he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. I started protesting, gripping his biceps even harder, hoping he’d release me from the pain, but he just pressed his lips harder against mine. I glanced at the officer with desperation written all over my face and San swiftly pulled back just enough to stare in my eyes threateningly, his lips touching mine as he hissed at me.

“If you don’t make it look like we’re a couple, I will torture you until you beg me to kill you.” I really, really wanted to cry, but as San’s lips pressed against mine again, I kissed him back. I made no effort to follow his lead or put any power in the kiss, just smacked my lips against his a few times, hoping it would be enough as I started feeling light headed from the heath and the terror San put me through. His lips were finally away from mine.

“You shouldn’t run away every time we have an argument, angel.” San spoke loudly enough for the officer to hear us as he was close enough, the knife from San’s hand magically having disappeared, “I’m always worried sick about you.”

I just stared into San’s eyes blankly, seeing the officer from the corner of my eyes walk off with a smile, shaking his head. No. I was back in the arms of my kidnapper. Why did I try so hard if it was in vain in the end? San let out a long breath, his forehead wrinkling as he scrunched up his nose, sweat glistening on his temples. He hung his head low, sucking his cheeks in as he held onto my waist with his other hand too, flushing me against his body.

“If I wouldn’t have sold you off already, I would really kill you right now, Y/N.” My jaw clenched at his words and I slightly pushed his biceps, making him look at me.

“I told you I could get you more money if you just allowed me to sing to the wealthy, San.” I tried to coerce him into finally giving in to me, “You get this large sum just once, it will go away eventually. But if you keep me around—if you let me sing—I can bring you weekly the same amount.” I was reaching, but it was worth the try. San didn’t seem to believe me either, and I could feel the resilience radiating off him, so I tried my last method. The method I hated the most, but if it would soften him enough to give in, I had to do it. I cupped his cheeks again and watched his eyes slightly widen as I closed mine, pressing my lips against his. San went stiff as our warm lips molded together, and despite me trying to move mine, his didn’t move. He wasn’t reciprocating it. He refused to fall for my last trick. And it truly was my last trick as I started pulling back defeated, eyes filling with tears, when San cupped my cheeks harshly and crashed his lips against mine. He wasn’t gentle at all, not that I expected him to be, as his lips moved hungrily against mine, devouring me. It was hard to keep up with him as I have never kissed anyone before, but I found my heart thumping loudly in my eardrums as our teeth clashed together, San dominating the kiss. His grip was crushing my cheeks and my lungs were screaming for air as my hands had fallen to his hips, gripping him, reminding myself that I couldn’t fall for his trick. My body was reacting weirdly to his actions, yearning for his lips as he pulled back, taking my lower lip in between his teeth, sucking on it. I felt my cheeks heat up at the action and I was embarrassed, slightly disgusted for making out with him, but fired up. San panted against my lips and he chuckled smugly as I refused to open my eyes, ashamed.

“This took an interesting turn of events, angel, don’t you think?” I didn’t answer him, afraid of what my voice would sound like, but when he nudged my nose with his, I wordlessly nodded, “What did you say? That you can bring me more money weekly than what that crazy rich man just offered me?”

My eyes flew open and the glint of mischief in San’s eyes brought a sense of hope into my system, truly so emotionally tired, that I believed he was genuine this time, “Yes, I can.”

San’s chuckle was high pitched and a crazy look appeared on his face as he bumped his nose against mine again, pushing my head back as he released my cheeks, “Very well, angel, very well.”

I didn’t fully understand what was happening, but I released his hips too as San’s arm went around my shoulders, pulling me into his side as he started walking, “Don’t think you’ll ever be free again, Y/N, because from today on…you’re mine.”

From getting sold off to getting owned by a pirate, neither sounded good nor like a pleasant life. I really didn’t want to cry anymore, but I still wasn’t free. No, I was just owned for life by a deranged and dangerous pirate, who would find me no matter where I went.

I was afraid not even my fantasy worlds were able to save me from the nightmare I found myself tangled up in.

Next part (divider)

[runnning-outof-time]

Cia!! Thanks so much for sending this my way! I always appreciate your lovely GIFts 😉😉 I’m sorry this one took a bit…I struggled with figuring out a plot for it. This could be read with the couple from my series Birmimgham, but there’s nothing specific that locks it down to them…so it’s a regular Tommy x Reader as well! (I just wanted to write a little something more with those two) I hope you enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Not How I Wanted It To Go

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: language

Tommy’s initial plan of calling the men into the kitchen gets thwarted when the someone, who’s not supposed to be present, walks in.

“Right, boys, you’re all here,” Tommy started as he took one last drag from his cigarette before removing it from between his lips and stamping it out in one of the bowls on the kitchen counter.

“Shoulda had a fuckin’ map done up,” Arthur commented on the vastness of the house that his younger brother now owned as he and the other men filed into the space.

“Party’s still goin’ on out there, Tom…why’ve you got us in here?” Johnny Dogs questioned while eyeing up one of the trays that the cook staff was busy preparing.

“I wanted to let you all know before I go and do it…” Tommy trailed off, taking a deep breath as he rested his hands on his hips, “I’m going to propose to (Y/N),” he announced his plan, making the room burst into cheers and hollers.

“Fucking finally!” John exclaimed, a wide grin on his face.

“It took ya long enough!” Arthur added, getting in on the teasing, walking over to clap Tommy on the back.

“Is this why we’re all packed into this crowded house?” Uncle Charlie asked, his brows raising.

“Fuck you callin’ crowded, Charlie? This place is bigger than all of our houses on the lane combined and then rebuilt two times over,” John jumped in before Tommy could respond, refuting the older man’s statement, “and let’s not get started on the fuckin’ stables…can fit half of the King’s horses in…”

“Oi, John!” Tommy cut his brother off, sending a warning glare in his direction, “enough,” was all he had to say before John fell back into line. Tommy huffed at the tangent they’d just been taken on before responding to the original question, “it’s one of the reasons, yeah.”

He and (Y/N) were hosting a party at their new estate; a housewarming celebration. (Y/N) had wanted to have it so that she could finally invite all of their friends and family over. Tommy thought that it was a good place to finally propose to her.

“So you’re gonna do it then, Tommy?” Jeremiah was the one to bring the group back to the original topic of discussion.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded his head in a definitive manner.

“When, brother?” Arthur wanted to know the details.

“Today,” Tommy’s voice still held confidence. Surprised expressions formed on the faces of the men in the room. Tommy looked around once before he continued talking, “I’m going to do it today and I pulled you all in here to let you know where you fit into it…” he paused, looking around the room once again, “it’s going to happen later, which means you fuckers can’t do anything that will embarrass her or make her upset…”

“This is (Y/N) we’re talkin’ ‘bout here, Tom,” John interjected with a grin on his face.

His words made Tommy zero in on him, “anything,” he repeated, his eyebrows raised to show the seriousness in the situation, unhappy that John was still joking. He looked around the room to see the men watching him intently. He ran a hand over his face before continuing, “no taking bets, no stealing stuff, no sizing up her extended family…”

“What if they come at us?” Isiah cut into Tommy’s speech this time, looking to the right then so that he could send Michael a grin. Those two had gotten into enough fights together.

“What?” Tommy spun to look at him, his brows now furrowed in confusion. He was slowly but surely slipping to the end of his rope with the questions and interruptions.

“What if they start the fight?” Isiah asked his question with slightly different wording.

“You step away. We’re not fighting tonight…do you understand me? No fighting…” he paused as he moved over to the line of men, moving down and pointing at each one of them as he repeated his statement, “no fighting, no fighting, no fighting…” he paused again, moving to the middle so that he could look at the entire group again, “no. Fucking. Fighting!” he barked his order, the frustration slipping through in his words. Isiah’s question had been the one to set it off. Silence fell in the room after his outburst, and he took a few deep, steadying breaths as he looked at the men again, “are there any other questions?” he dared to them to continue, knowing that the next person who tried to would most likely get their head chewed off.

“Let us see the ring then, Tom,” Arthur’s words came out as a statement rather than a question, and it served to cut the tension.

Tommy huffed out a sigh then, rooting in his trousers’ pockets to retrieve the box as the men all began chattering again; this time about catching a glimpse of the ring he was going to give (Y/N). He opened the box as soon as he pulled it out, showing the men that had gathered around him.

“She’s gonna love it, brother,” Arthur commented, patting him on the back as he smiled proudly, “the last of the Shelby men to get married…besides Finn over there,” he said then, nodding his head at their youngest sibling.

“Though Finn might have married (Y/N) if you didn’t get around to it,” John added with a grin, his words making the boy they were talking about blush profusely.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Finn had a bit of a crush on (Y/N)…he’d been starstruck by her from the time that she helped him with his maths those few years ago.

“So you’re doing it tonight then?”

“Yeah, later. I wanted to have it so that she’s not overwhelmed by everyone after it happens,” Tommy explained more of his plan, smiling as he looked down at the ring.

A voice came from the entrance to the kitchen before anything else could be said. “What’s going on in here, Tommy?”

Tommy looked up from the ring upon hearing it and his throat went dry as his eyes fell onto (Y/N). Shit. “Uh…what’re you doing here, love?” he asked, feeling his heart rate increase. The ring was still out in full view…there was no way she didn’t see it!

“I came looking for you. Some of my family were getting ready to leave and wanted to thank you for the invite…what are you all doing?” she asked, trying to look anywhere but at the box in his hands.

“Might as well do it now, brother,” Arthur mumbled behind Tommy as a tense silence hung in the air.

Tommy glanced to his side, seeing his brother nodding towards (Y/N). He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he decided to go forward with it. He took a few steps toward (Y/N) then, the jewelry box still clutched in his hands. “This is not how I wanted this to go, (Y/N)…” he started off, keeping his eyes locked onto her as her lips parted slightly in surprise, “I wanted to do it in a way that would make things more special; a way you deserved. I’ve never in my life loved someone as much as I love you, and there is no one I’d rather spend the rest of my days with…”

“Yes, Tommy,” (Y/N) breathed, beating him to the punch and making his brows furrow in response.

“I’ve not even gotten down on one knee, love,” he pointed out.

“I don’t need that. My answer’s yes,” she shook her head, a wide smile present on her face.

“(Y/N)…”

“Fuck the particulars, just put the ring on her finger!” John yelled from where the men were still gathered, his words cutting off Tommy’s hesitancy.

Tommy turned and shot a glare at his younger brother, who was wearing a shit-eating grin, before looking at (Y/N) once more. “Will you marry me, (Y/N)?” he asked her even though she’d already given her answer.

“Yes!” she nodded her head, reaching out to wrap her hand around the back of his neck so that she could pull him into a passionate kiss. Tommy took hold of her waist with the hand that wasn’t holding the ring, steadying himself as he kissed her back with equal passion.

A chorus of cheers broke out behind them as they broke away. Tommy took the ring from its holder and slid it onto her left hand, looking up at her with a big smile once it was sitting comfortably at the base. (Y/N) smiled back at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as the men moved in to begin congratulating them.

It may not have been the original, extravagent proposal that Tommy had been planning, but it was the perfect proposal for them.

———

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable

MASTERLIST

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

‘Our Flag Means Death’ Star Rhys Darby on Stede’s Transformations & Hopes for Season 3

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death Season 2 Episode 8 “Mermen.”]

Our Flag Means Death saw Gentleman pirate Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) transform from a fish-out-of-water swashbuckler into the romantic hero he was always destined to be in the latest season of Max‘s original comedy.

After realizing the error of his ways at the end of Season 1, Stede sought redemption in the eyes of the infamous Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), after recognizing he was in love with the pirate. While the path wasn’t a direct one, they eventually found their way back to one another with the help of a fantastical mermaid sequence, some much-needed apologies, and ultimately a better string of communication.

Reflecting on his journey, star Rhys Darby is opening up about Stede’s various transformations in Season 2, including the excitement surrounding that mermaid tail, as well as about where he thinks the pirate lovebirds might end up next should the series return for Season 3.

Congrats on Season 2! Now that we can finally talk about it, what has it been like getting to see fan reactions, especially during the SAG-AFTRA strike?

Rhys Darby: Yeah, it was like a pressure cooker that needed to burst, for us and for the fans. When it finally came out, the burst happened and there was so much love for us, [but we] couldn’t talk about it. We were still stuck in this bottle and the cork wouldn’t come off, and that was difficult, but it was really lovely to see all the love and the surprise from everyone. Obviously, as you know, the fan artwork, it’s what we would say in New Zealand is pretty full on. So yeah, it was super cool.

And not that anyone gives out numbers, but I think I heard on the ethos that people [are] watching it, and it’s rating really high and at a time when we need this kind of beautiful love fest of comedy with a whole bunch of silliness to take us away from the disasters that are happening in the world. It’s been lovely. I just wish it was longer. I know people watch and rewatch and they’re so fanatical, but it’s just a comedy show, so to have any effect means so much to us.

In Season 2, Stede’s gone through a few transformations, one of which is that he’s a real pirate now, at least comparatively to Season 1. What helped you get into that new version of him? Was it the writing, costumes, or a combination of the two?

Yeah, the costumes are the first thing that comes to mind because once he starts wearing different gear, he looks at himself and goes, “Oh my God, I’m a different man.” And he really is turning from a man who is wearing these beautiful gowns with high heels and things inappropriate for a pirate ship to becoming an Errol Flynn-type hero straight away. That’s what they wanted to do with the character. So he’s lost a lot of that beautiful pageantry and is becoming a more practical guy who has to survive. He returns to this nightmare of a world because he wants to fight for love, and for want of a better term, “man up,” whatever the modern-day version of that is, “person up?” To become the guy that he dreamt of being in the first season.

He didn’t dream that he was going to fall in love with someone. He dreamt he was going to be this amazing pirate and that just was not going to happen. But then when he found this love, I think he went away from that [dream] going, “I don’t deserve this.” And then when he realized upon returning home that he does deserve it, he had to fight for it. And so the only way to fight for it was to drop the battle armor of the gowns and actually become the pirate he imagined being. So it was great to become that and to fight for that love and to thank god that [Blackbeard] didn’t die. He would’ve actually lost it, I think, because it would’ve been like, “Well, what am I fighting for now?”

I think it was just so fun to see that character change, but also within that change, see a bit of the old self come through, especially when he found that cursed red suit. And all of a sudden it was like, “Oh my God, the old me again, look how good I look!” So it was lovely that they had those elements… I was missing a little bit of the old Stede myself. So it was great to find that again. And then again near the end with the British invasion scenario where I got to do the big coat and everything, which of course looked awesome. You can see that moment where I put it on and did that slow turnaround. It was way more filmic shots of me wearing that kind of stuff. And I think that gave Stede's strength as well. So much of Stede's embodiment comes from the things he’s wearing.

Speaking of costumes, the big one of the season had to be Stede’s mermaid look. How did you wrap your head around getting ready for such a fantastical, and ultimately, beautiful scene?

That was the highlight of the whole season for me. As a kid, I used to swim around like a little merkid. I would put my legs together and I’d swim under the water. I’ve always been into mermaids and things because I’m into cryptozoology. So when I got to be a mermaid or a merman, I really took to it. It was pretty easy, to be honest with you. I didn’t have any training to swim like that. So the only training I did was some breath work beforehand to help me hold my breath longer. But that was kind of almost superfluous. Once I got that [tail] on, I just became a mermaid. It’s hard for me to describe how I suddenly become these things, but I think I just got under the water. I could swim really easily with it.

And I had weights on. So one of the things was we had to make sure I was the right weight so that I wouldn’t just float. That thing was sort of buoyant. So once we sorted that out, I could actually swim really well, and then just sort of hover underneath the water for a long time while [Taika]’s looking at me, I’m looking at him. To see it on the day, on the screen when I knew they’d got [the shot], there were just so many cheers, and I think they even played the music to see how the scene would work out. It’s one of those life moments where you go, “Oh my God, I’m becoming a cryptid again. I’m never going to forget this.”

This season really does focus even more on Stede and Blackbeard’s romance. How did you and Taika prepare for that? Especially since Stede’s more transparent about his feelings this time around.

It was good, and it was time. And because I was the new strong Stede, it felt really natural for me. I think it just worked really well with the writing because of the aggression that I was going through. When I was fighting that really bad guy [Ned Low (Bronson Pinchot) and] threw a violin at him because he ruined Calypso’s birthday, that was a good moment because it is not just about Ed, it’s about the crew, Stede’s family, and they were going through this amazing moment there, and all of a sudden this guy turns up and next thing we’re getting tortured. And I’m like, “How dare you?”

I think that progression of strength helped [Stede] break into the moment of, “I’m just going to take my lover as well now, and do something with him.” He probably had no idea what he was doing because it’s Stede, but it worked out and it was the right time in the show. Taika and I are really good mates, so it’s really easy to do emotional scenes together. As soon as we put our gear on, we’re just looking at that character, and we admire each other.

You and Taika have been known to improv on the show. Was there any improv moment from Season 2 you were particularly proud to see onscreen?

Yeah. Well, one, I noticed that some people are talking about that they thought was scripted, which wasn’t — most of the [scenes where] I’m with Taika are improvised in those emotional close moments — is on the deck of the boat where we’d do the thumb thing. That was all improvised on the day. So that was fun that we got that kind of stuff in. And there were some more little bits and pieces, but that’s one that comes to mind. That worked really well.

By the end of Season 2, Stede and Blackbeard have settled in to open their own inn. Do you think the peace and quiet will last in a possible third season, or will they get bored and want to rejoin the excitement?

Well, obviously as it stands now, it’s very lovely and it’s a nice positive ending, which is lovely for Season 2. But in reality, if you think about the characters, even in the fictional world, they’re both outlaws, they’re pirates, and the British back then… they never gave up. They did track down all the pirates and either hang them or get rid of them. There was only a couple that got away, and it certainly wasn’t those two. So I think what they’re thinking is, yes, this is bliss, but both those characters must be thinking, this is not going to last because you’ve got to sleep with one eye open.

Even though they’re in the middle of nowhere, they’re still in an area where everyone knows what they are, so they’re going to be tracked down. So I think if it was me, [they’d] end up back in action one way or another, especially if their inn is popular, which it probably would be. Word would get around. I mean, in those days, had you heard the Blackbeard and Stede had opened up an inn, [you’d have] to check that one out. It’ll be like Planet Hollywood.

There would be a wait-list, for sure.

Yeah, absolutely. Basically, they’re too famous now that Stede’s killed Ned and everything. He’s a famous pirate. So death is going to come to their door at some point. They’ll have to deal with it.

Do you think this version of Stede and Blackbeard’s story could avoid the fate of the real-life pirates?

Yeah, no, I think you’re dreaming if you think they’re going to live happily ever after.

Our Flag Means Death, Seasons 1-2, Streaming now, Max

Source: TV Insider

[thydungeongal]

you mentioned OSR modules? read any particularly good ones?

As of late I've been enjoying @cavegirlpoems's Gardens of Ynn and Stygian Libraries! The former recently had a Kickstarter for a new print edition and I recently got my hands on the PDFs for both, and I really enjoy them! They are both depthcrawls, a type of randomized pointcrawl with an almost procedural generation approach to them, so each sojourn into the two will feel completely different each time! I posted about Ynn here briefly:

I also like Necrotic Gnomes' two first-level modules for Old School Essentials, The Incandescent Grottoes and The Hole in the Oak, which (my players don't read this) ||actually combine into an interconnected dungeon with a whole lot of cool stuff to explore!|| Me and my group aren't that deep into them yet, but there have been some really fun instances of actually getting to experience the underworld as a space inhabited by weird lil guys who don't always want to fight (my party ended up making friends with the kobolds foraging moss on the first level of the dungeon and everyone agreed that the kobolds are sweet lil guys).

What else. Oh yeah, Barkeep on the Borderlands looks like a fun bar crawl adventure, sadly I'm not quite sure if I can safely plug it into my open table campaign given its event-based nature.

I also recently checked out The Bloom for Liminal Horror, a cool OSRish modern fantasy module inspired by, among other things, Last of Us, Alan Wake, and Twin Peaks! It's been nominated for an Ennie and I think it has a shot! :)

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: The sudden shift in living arrangements causes Charlie's behavior to take a turn for the worse. 

Word Count: 8,317

Warnings: Smut, suicidal thoughts, kids throwing temper tantrums, infertility, and polyamory.

Notes: Clarification for those just tuning in, Lucy is not Charlie's biological mother (she is unable to have biological children) but Tommy--and Grace, prior to her death--have always treated her as if she was. This chapter was a reasonable length, and then I decided that I needed to add a whole bunch of smut at the end, and I didn't wanna move it to the next chapter. So apologies in advance for the bloated word count!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 3: Your Mistakes Loom

“Charlie, could you pick up your toys, please?” 

She said it offhandedly, not even really looking up from the cover of the book she was examining, one hand gripping the wooden ladder she was balancing on so that she could reach the upper shelves of the huge bookcase. 

Arrow House was packed to the gills with books on just about any subject imaginable. Lucy had gorged her mind on many of them. Climbing carefully down the rickety ladder, she tucked her most recent selection under her arm, looking up to find that Charlie hadn’t moved from where he was seated on the sofa, his toys still spread out all over the floor.

“Charlie? Did you not hear me?”

Still no response. Lucy frowned. Things had been tense lately. Charlie was still angry with Tommy over him shooting Dangerous, barely speaking to him at all and spending most of his free time sulking in his room. And then Lizzie’s announcement to Tommy of her and Ruby's departure went over about as well as Lucy had expected it to. There was an awful lot of shouting and insults hurled from either side, and when Lizzie finally left with little Ruby in tow, it was with a slam of the front door that seemed to reverberate throughout the entire house. 

Charlie had grown even more sullen after that. Lucy wasn’t sure how much of the fight he’d actually heard, or what Lizzie had told him before she left. But he clearly was angry with both of them. And missing his step-mum and sister. She tried to find ways to occupy his time or offer him companionship, but her attempts to get him to go out riding or play a game with her had all been met with a glower and cold shoulder, and she’d eventually given up and decided to just leave him alone.    

“Please don’t make me repeat myself, Charlie. Pick up your toys now before someone trips over them, yeah?”

It would only take him all of two minutes to do it. And yet he continued to just sit there, shooting a scowl her way, crossing his arms, and huffing under his breath.

“Charlie–”

“Shut up!” he suddenly shouted, little voice bouncing off the high walls of the room. Jumping off the couch, he stood in the middle of his pile of toys, face turning red. “You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mum!”

She flinched back as if he’d hit her, eyes widening. “Charlie–”

“You’re just Dad’s whore! Everybody hates you! Mum says!”

Her jaw dropped open, recoiling even further from him. The boy she’d always thought of as her own stared at her with blazing eyes that were a perfect combination of Tommy and Grace’s, his mouth set in a firm line, little hands balled up into fists at his sides. 

He might as well have reached in between her ribs, and ripped out her heart. 

Lucy’s jaw worked, but no words came out; too shocked to be able to speak. Tears welled in her eyes, lips trembling as she tried to battle them back. 

“Charles Thomas Burgess Shelby!” 

The voice boomed throughout the room, roaring so loud it practically shook the stacks of books erected from the floors and lining the walls. It took Lucy so by surprise that she almost screamed.

And then Tommy was there. Tommy, who unbeknownst to both of them had been standing in the doorway. Tommy, who had heard everyone hurtful word his son had just hurled at her. 

He descended upon Charlie, taking him by the shoulders, looking down at him furiously. Charlie’s eyes had grown big as saucers, shrinking in on himself when faced with his father’s wrath. 

“You do not speak to Lucy like that. Ever. Do you hear me!? Ey?” He leaned in closer when Charlie tried to dodge his gaze. “Do you hear me!?”

“No, Tommy, don’t–” she tried, somehow managing to get the words out around the lump clogging her throat. Shouting at him will only make everything worse.

“No, Lucy! He does not get to say something like that to you without consequences.” He turned back to Charlie. “Apologize, Charlie. Now.”

“No! I want my mum! Why did you let her leave!? Why couldn’t Lucy go away instead!?”

She cringed, drawing deeper into herself, arms clutching in tight to her chest as if they could somehow shield herself from the words Charlie was erupting with. Tommy gaped at him, and she could see shock and horror at his son’s behavior leaking past the anger and protectiveness glimmering in his eyes.  

“Charlie, you don’t understand–” he tried. She could tell that he was working hard to not fully lose control of his temper. To remain calm and rational in the face of Charlie’s outburst. To not explode as he would in response to anyone else who dared speak to her like that. But Charlie wasn’t having any of it. 

“Yes, I do understand!” he stomped his little foot. Under any other circumstances it might’ve been funny. “You shot my horse! You shot my horse and you made my mum and Ruby leave! I hate you too!”

Tommy stared at him for a long moment. Lucy could see the tension standing out in the veins pulsing in his throat. “Go to your room,” he said finally, voice deadly calm. 

“No!” Charlie shouted, tears starting to stream down his cheeks now that he’d gotten all of his anger out. “No! I don’t want to!”

“Go to your room now!” Tommy bellowed, finger pointing towards the door, face contorting. 

Charlie let out a wailing, furious scream, head thrown back to the ceiling, and then raced out the door sobbing, little feet thundering up the stairs. A moment later, they heard the crash of his bedroom door slamming shut.    

Lucy let out a haggard, painful breath, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her chest heaved and her shoulders shuddered, face dropping to bury in her hands. 

“Lucy,” Tommy’s hand touched delicately at her arm just as the first sob managed to make its way past her lips. “Come here, love.” He drew her into his arms, hugging her to his chest and rubbing her back comfortingly while she started to cry. 

Her mind was completely trapped within that one singular moment, replaying it over and over, of her baby boy telling her how much everyone–himself included–despised her.  

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy said. “I don’t know why he would–”

“Why do you think!?” she burst out distraughtly, ripping away from his embrace. “His mother hates me. Who knows what she’s said about me when we aren’t around.” It was only then that she realized she was still holding the book she’d gotten down from the shelf. She set it heavily on one of the end tables by the couch. 

“Lizzie isn’t his mother…”

“Yes, she is, Tommy. She’s the one who’s always here. Who always takes care of him.” Sniffling, she scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“That doesn’t mean–”

“It does to him. And isn’t that all that matters, in the end?”

Trouble, the tortoiseshell cat who had been living at Arrow House since Lucy adopted her after the vendetta, hopped up onto the couch, stretching and meowing at Lucy worriedly. She reached down a hand to stroke her soft black and orange head.

“I’ll talk to him.” Tommy was watching her with worried eyes. Lucy shook her head. 

“Scolding him about it will only make things worse.”

“I won’t scold him. But he can’t talk to you like that.” He took a step towards her, hand resting on her shoulder, thumb rubbing up and down. 

“I promised myself that I would never come between you and your children.”

“You’re not.”

She wasn’t really sure if she believed that. Trouble climbed up onto the armrest of the couch, angling her head in silent request for scratches under her neck that Lucy provided. Purrs rumbled in the small cat’s throat. 

“Lucy,” Tommy moved in a little closer to her. “Don’t…don’t take any of what he said to heart. He’s a kid. He’s just having a tantrum. He doesn’t really mean any of it.”

“Are you sure?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me that you meant everything that you shouted at your mum and dad as a kid?”

She couldn’t really argue with that. Tommy kissed the top of her head. 

“He loves you.”

She nodded, swallowing roughly. Trouble meowed, and she scooped the cat up, holding her like a baby. She purred, snuggling into Lucy’s chest. Tommy lowered a hand to the cat, letting her sniff at his fingertips, waiting for her approval in the form of bumping her head against his palm before he started to pet her.

“He called me a whore,” Lucy whispered. The hand Tommy still had resting on her shoulder tightened. 

“I heard.”

“Do you think Lizzie told him that?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think that she just said it to someone else and he overhead. But…” he trailed off, then sighed. “She’s never done anything to actively try to turn the kids on you before. Not like that.” 

She nodded. That was what she suspected, too. Lizzie wasn’t that cruel. 

“Either way, she’s apparently forgotten what her previous profession was.” She could hear the edge of building frustration in his voice, and leaned back into him in an attempt to try to quell it. He slipped an arm around her waist, pressing his lips to her temple. 

“You really think that he didn’t mean any of it?” The buddings of insecurity had sprung back up inside her at Charlie’s words, doubt flooding her veins. She often worried that her presence at the house might have a negative effect on the children. A thought that made her feel so awful and guilty that she was half tempted to pack a bag and run far, far away. Or better yet, take a revolver to her head. 

Sometimes she wondered if everyone would be better off if she wasn’t around anymore. 

“He has no reason to.”

“He thinks I’m the reason that his mother is unhappy.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“But all that stuff about me leaving instead of Lizzie…”

“He doesn’t understand what’s going on between me and her. Not really. All he knows is that you and I both had arguments with her, and then she and Ruby left and he misses them. That’s why he’s lashing out. He doesn’t actually want you gone. I don’t believe that.”

She closed her eyes, trying to will herself into believing him instead of the cruel voices in her head. “He’s got your temper.”

She felt Tommy’s lips curl up fondly against her hair. “Yeah. We’re fucked once he hits adolescence, aren’t we?”

“Mhm.”

Sighing, he pulled out his pocket watch to take a glance at it. “What do you think? Has it been long enough for him to have calmed down yet?”

“Maybe give it a few more minutes.” 

He nodded, dropping his head to rest against the crook of her neck, laying butterfly soft kisses there. “You’ll see. By tomorrow he’ll have forgotten that the entire bloody thing even fucking happened.”

She huffed out a breathless laugh. “We can only hope so.” 

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who shot the horse. That’s what he’s really upset about.”

“No; you did the right thing. Dangerous was in pain; it would have been wrong to make him continue on like that.” 

“Yeah. He’ll understand. Someday.”

“Yeah. Someday.” She was deeply aware that they weren’t just talking about the horse.   

Would Charlie ever fully understand? She often had her doubts. Her and Tommy’s arrangement was unconventional, to say the least. Not even some of the Shelbys had ever fully been able to understand or accept it. 

Her eyes raised to sweep around the dim room, landing on a few framed photographs set up on a nearby table. In one of them, Grace was sitting with baby Charlie in her lap. Her head was turned away from the camera, looking instead upon the precious little boy clutched in her arms, cheek dimpling with a smile. Charlie’s eyes danced with joy, lips parted in the smile he was giving to his mother. 

Everyone would have been happier if I was the one who got shot that day at the charity dinner, Lucy thought, sniffling. Charlie would still have his mother. Tommy would still have his wife. They would be happy. 

Her boys; who she loved more than anything in the whole world. All she wanted was for them to be okay. To be happy.   

Trouble meowed at her, head angled up, watching her with those knowing green eyes. Lucy tightened her grip on the cat, holding her tighter to her chest. Tommy’s warm breath ghosted across her neck and shoulder where he was still resting his face against her. Leaning back into him, she closed her eyes against the warm press of her back to his front. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Tommy stood in front of Charlie’s door, the dark wood seeming to loom over him forebodingly. He smoothed his hands down his waistcoat. Adjusted his cufflinks. Fiddled with his wedding ring. Well aware that he was stalling. 

He needed to remember to keep his cool, no matter what waited for him on the other side of that door. It was his knee-jerk response to act protectively whenever someone upset Lucy. But yelling or scolding like he did with Polly or Lizzie was unlikely to accomplish much in this situation other than make Charlie more furious with him. 

And, he really didn’t want to yell at his son.

Sighing heavily, he raised his fist, knocking twice against the door. “Charlie?”

No answer.

He opened the door anyway, stepping in and closing it softly behind him. Charlie was curled up on his side in his bed, back to the door. The stuffed horse that he’d had since he was a baby was clutched to his chest. 

Sitting down on the mattress beside him, Tommy folded his hands into his lap, despite wanting to reach out and smooth a palm across his boy’s golden hair. While he did not move or otherwise acknowledge his presence, Charlie’s eyes were open, red-rimmed and puffy from crying. 

“Charles,” he started after taking a deep breath, being mindful to keep his voice calm and soft. “I understand that these past few days have been hard, and that you miss Lizzie and Ruby, but you can’t talk to Lucy like that, mate. You hurt her feelings.”

Charlie didn’t respond, save for a small sniffle.

“Listen, Charlie,” he raised a hand to rest on his shoulder, then thought better of it and let it fall away limply instead. “I know you’re sad about Dangerous. But that’s not Lucy’s fault.” Hate me, he thought. If you have to hate anyone, hate me. But not her. “I miss him too.” 

Charlie began to sniffle again, chin trembling while a few more tears leaked out of his eyes. “He was a good horse.”

“Yeah.” This time, Tommy did rest a hand on Charlie’s head, stroking his soft hair soothingly. “Yeah, he was. But he was in pain, Charlie. And I wasn’t going to let him suffer. That would have been cruel. He didn’t deserve that; not when he’d been such a good horse to us. I know it’s hard to understand, but it was the best thing we could do for him.” He could still hear that final whinny that Dangerous let out as he pulled the trigger, see the way that his body twisted, hear the thud as he struck the hard ground. Just as he could still feel the weight of the gun in his hand, that moment of desperate, endless desire for relief as he raised it to point as his temple, holding it there. Just for a second. 

He could have pulled the trigger. And it would all have been over. No more pain. No more stress. No more unhappiness for those around him who he loved. 

No more Tommy. 

He jammed his eyes shut, trying to banish the thoughts from his mind. “It was a kindness.”

Charlie started to cry harder,  burying his face in the worn material of his plushie. Tommy rubbed up and down on his small back as comfortingly as he knew how, just letting him get it all out. A good cry was probably what he had needed more than anything else.   

“I know. I know, my boy. It’s alright.” He drew in a rattling breath. “I’m sorry.” So many things he had to apologize for. If he tried to list them all, they’d have been there for an eternity. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt Lucy’s feelings,” Charlie finally said, after his tears had ceased into quiet sniffles. 

“I know you didn’t. But sometimes, we hurt people even when we don’t mean to. She loves you very much, Charlie. She only wants what’s best for you.”

Charlie sat up, rubbing at his eyes and still clutching his toy horse with one hand. “I know.” 

“You’re gonna need to apologize to her. And remind her that you love her.”

“Okay.”

Tommy nodded, a small, relieved sigh leaving his lungs. He tipped his head down to kiss his son’s forehead. Disaster averted, it would seem. 

“Where did you even hear those things that you said to her, ey? ‘Cos I know that you didn’t just come up with them all on your own.” He kept his voice light. Conversational. Easy going, even, so as to not upset him again.  

Charlie hesitated. 

“No one’s in trouble. I just want to know,” Tommy reassured. Charlie eyed him scrutinizingly, then looked down at his hands, fiddling with them in a way that reminded Tommy distinctly of how Lucy often fidgeted with her rings. 

“Mum was talking with Aunt Polly and Aunt Linda in the drawing room. I finished my spelling early, and I was going to ask Mum if I could go out into the stables. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…”

Tommy closed his eyes, jaw tightening. But he pushed the anger down, not wanting Charlie to see it. “It was Lizzie who said it?”

“Yeah.” Charlie looked up at him with big, pleading eyes. “Please don’t be mad at her, Dad.”

A little too late for that, son. Putting an arm around him, Tommy craned his head to look down into his wide eyes. “Charlie…sometimes, Lizzie says things to or about Lucy that hurt her very much. Because she’s upset. Like what you did down there in the library.”

“But I didn’t mean it…”

“I know. And I don’t think that Lizzie often means the things that she says either. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt her, or that it’s okay to say those types of things to her. You understand?”

Charlie considered, then nodded. 

“It upsets me, Charlie, when someone makes Lucy sad. Because I love her.”

“Do you love Mum?”

The question caught him off guard, frowning. Portraits of Grace still lined the walls of Arrow House, photographs of her scattered throughout the various rooms. He’d done all he could to keep her memory alive. To make sure that bits of her lingered with them always.

“Of course, Charlie. I still love and miss your mother very much–”

“No, not Mummy,” Charlie shook his head. “Mum,” he said, with great emphasis on the distinction. “Lizzie. Do you love her?”

Tommy froze. The question pried open a well of guilt inside of him, dark and all consuming. Charlie looked at him expectantly, those eyes that were suddenly almost a perfect reflection of his own staring back at him, assessing. 

How? How did he tell his child that he did not love the woman tasked with raising him?

“You’re really missing her and Ruby, ey?” he asked instead, hoping that Charlie would allow him the reprieve of dodging the question. His son stared up at him for a beat, and Tommy could see him processing the sidestepping of the inquiry, and the silent admission that came with it. He held his breath, waiting for Charlie to start shouting or crying again. But instead he just looked away, head bowed towards the floor with his legs swinging back and forth where they dangled off the edge of the bed. Tommy thought he caught a glimmer of disappointment, but also an understanding, well beyond Charlie’s years, shimmering in his eyes.

“I guess so.”

Tommy let out a silent, relieved breath, reaching up to stroke Charlie’s hair again. 

“Why did they have to leave?”

He supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised at all these hard to answer questions being lobbed his way. Charlie was getting old enough to be able to comprehend, but not yet fully understand, that his father’s relationship with his wife and concubine was not exactly conventional.

“It’s…complicated, Charlie.”

“Are they coming back?”

“I…” I don’t know. But he couldn’t say that. Not to Charlie, at least. “I hope so.” But it was a hope not born out of missing his wife, but more so for Charlie and Ruby’s sake. He missed his sweet Ruby, with her joyful laugh and her bright eyes, terribly. 

As for Lizzie herself…she was a package deal with Ruby, and–outside of badmouthing his lover within earshot of his children–she was a good, stabilizing figure in Charlie’s life when he and Lucy weren’t home. So he tolerated her.

“Can I come out of my room now?”

Tommy looked at Charlie fondly, reaching down to ruffle his hair. “As long as you apologize to Lucy.”

“I will. Promise.”

“Alright, then.”

He followed Charlie out of his room and down the stairs, hands in his pockets, smiling a little to himself when Cyril came lumbering over to sniff and lick at Charlie’s palm, accompanying him the rest of the way to the library. Lucy wasn’t there, but Charlie’s toys were still scattered all over the floor. Tommy felt a small burst of pride as Charlie knelt down to start gathering them up and putting them neatly away. 

We made a good one, Grace, he thought, glancing over at the photograph of her on the table, a wave of the usual quiet melancholy that he always felt when he thought of her settling over him. Temper tantrums aside, of course. 

There was the soft click of nails on the floor, and then Asher was sniffing at his trouser leg, the big, black shepherd wagging his tail when Tommy reached down to stroke his head and give him a few scratches behind the ear. 

“Where did she go, Dad?” Charlie asked, finished with putting away his toys. Tommy cocked his head. 

“Ash, where’s your mum?” he asked the big black dog. His tail wagging increased. “Go find Mum!”

Asher made a little overexcited hop, and took off at a prance down the hall. Charlie took off after him.

Asher led them to the front drawing room, nosing open the door and trotting over to where Lucy was curled up on one of the sofas with Trouble. He flopped down on the floor beside her, eagerly knocking his head against her palm when she lowered it to pet him. The book she had been getting from the library when the whole mess transpired was propped up in her hands.  

Charlie hesitated a moment, looking nervous, glancing back at Tommy with wide eyes. Leaning against the wall by the door, Tommy gave him an encouraging nod. Charlie turned back to Lucy, shuffling forward.

“Lucy?”

She looked up from her book, sliding a bookmark into place and setting it aside when she saw him. “Hey, kiddo.”

Charlie inched closer until he was directly in front of her, fingers fiddling with each other again. “I…” his little brows pinched together, lips pouting. And then he flung his arms around Lucy’s neck, hiding his face away in her shirt. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

She rested a hand on the top of his head, returning the hug strongly. Tommy felt warm affection for them both stir inside his chest.

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“I didn’t mean it. I was just mad.”

“I know. I know, sweetheart.” Lucy pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

Tommy was about to go to them, when Frances appeared at his side. She glanced at Lucy and Charlie embracing, then leaned in to murmur quietly in his ear so as to not disturb them.

“Mr. Shelby, dinner is ready.”

“Thank you, Frances. We’ll be there in a minute.”

She nodded, and departed the room as quietly as she had entered. Tommy looked back at his son and his lover, crossing the room in a few strides to stand by the sofa. Charlie was still hugging Lucy tightly, and when she looked up to meet Tommy’s gaze, he could see that her eyes were a little glassy. 

“Dinner is ready,” he told her softly, reaching out a hand to pass over her shoulder. She nodded. Charlie didn’t seem to hear him, not loosening his grip around Lucy’s neck, not even when Tommy tousled his hair.   

“Charlie?” Lucy asked, gently smoothing her hand down his back. 

“I love you, Lucy,” he said, in a very small voice. Lucy leaned back, brushing away the few tears that had silently slipped down Charlie’s cheeks with her thumbs. 

“Oh, honey. I love you too.”

Charlie’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry I made you sad. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t, sweet boy. It’s okay.”

He hugged her again, little head coming to rest on her shoulder. Lucy pecked his cheek. He was starting to lose more of the baby fat in his face, features giving way to the cheekbones that Tommy had passed onto him. 

Fuck, he’s getting older, Tommy thought, no small amount of panic interlaced with the words.

“Let’s go to dinner, kiddo, yeah? Some food will make us both feel better, I think,” Lucy encouraged, rubbing his back. Charlie nodded, but didn’t make any movements. She rolled her eyes fondly, and scooped him up into her arms, hoisting him up onto one of her hips like she used to hold him when he was a baby. 

He may have been getting older, but at least he wasn’t at the age yet where he did not welcome being carried. Tommy did not know what he would do when that day came. With either of his children. Holding them in his arms was one of the few joys in life he still had left. 

Ruby should be here, he thought mournfully, the ache of missing his daughter widening within him. And with it, another drop of resentment, to fill the already overflowing bucket that he held towards his wife, dripped in.

“You eating with us?” Lucy asked. Tommy nodded, hand finding the small of her back to help steer her towards the doors that led into the dining hall. It wasn’t an unfounded question. He’d been so busy recently that he often ate at his desk rather than in the dining room. And even then, Lucy usually had to scold him into consuming a few mouthfuls of whatever was on the tray that Frances brought him.

He had work to do. Calls to make. But they could wait until morning, he decided. Right now, he just wanted to spend time with his lover and their child.  

∗ ∗ ∗

He watched Lucy where she was standing at the window. It was dark out, and the expansive grounds of the mansion looked like a great black void surrounding them. They had come down to the sitting room after tucking Charlie into bed. It had made his heart ache with love, watching as Lucy sat down on the mattress with his son, the book he’d selected for her to read to him clutched in her hands while Charlie snuggled into her side. Tommy had stood leaning against the doorway, watching them until Charlie’s eyelids started to droop and Lucy put the book down, slipping out of the bed and kissing him on the forehead. Tommy had stepped forward to do the same, and then they’d flicked off the light and tip-toed out the door.   

Taking a step towards her, he set his glass of whiskey down on the table and wrapped his arms around her waist, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. She smelled sweetly of her rose and vanilla perfume, and he breathed in deep as he pressed a few kisses to her pulse point, drawing the scent eagerly into his lungs.

“Are you alright?” 

She brought one hand up to rest on top of his where he was holding her. “Yeah,” she said, in a voice not all that convincing. He kissed her neck again. 

“Come here.” Taking her by the hand, he pulled her with him to one of the nearby sofas. She let him maneuver her until she was laying on the couch with her head in his lap, his fingers stroking tenderly through her mussed hair while her cheek pressed into his thigh. 

“There you go,” he said when her eyes slipped closed. “Just relax. It’s okay. It’s all worked out.”

“Until there’s a next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I’ll talk to Lizzie.”

She half lifted her head. “No, Tommy–” panic flashed in her eyes, but he urged her to lay back down on him.

“I’m not going to try to pick a fight over it,” he soothed, knowing how guilty she always felt whenever they argued because of her. “But she can’t talk about you like that. At least not when the kids are within earshot. I won’t have her trying to turn them against you.”

“I feel like I deserve it.”

He frowned. “What? Why?”

Her brown eyes looked up at him sadly. “I’m having an affair with her husband.”

“I’m not sure what we’re doing can really be classified as an affair, love.”

“You’re fucking a woman who isn’t your wife. That’s the definition of an affair, Tommy.”

“She gave us her blessing…”

“Did she? I’d say that it’s got to be the most reluctant, begrudging blessing in the whole world, then.”  

He was quiet at that, still frowning down at her. “It’s not your fault that she’s unhappy. She knew what the arrangement between us was going to be like before we got married. She knows I’ll never leave you.”

“She changed her mind about being alright with it…”

“That’s not our problem. We shouldn’t have to upheaval our entire lives together because Lizzie decided to go back on the arrangement the three of us made. We’ve already made plenty of accommodations towards her.” He touched her cheek. “Her happiness is not your responsibility. You’ve done more than enough for her already. It’s up to her if she can figure out a way to live with us or not. And she doesn’t just get to take all her anger about a situation she got herself into out on you. I won’t allow it.” His fingers traced the shape of one of her cheekbones. “I promised I’d protect you from her”

Lucy turned her face to kiss the center of his palm. “What if she decides that she can’t live with us? If she leaves you…”

“Then I’ll deal with it.” With a sigh, he raised a hand to thumb at his brow. “I’ll try to get her to stay. For the kids, if not for anything else. I’d really rather not deal with the mess that a divorce would cause; at least not right now. Not on top of everything else. But if she really is set on leaving…I’m not going to hold her prisoner here.” 

Lucy looked down, index finger tracing over one of the buttons on his shirt. Tommy watched her shrewdly, still noting traces of miserable guilt in her eyes. He felt his heart twist at the sight of it.

“It’ll be okay,” he told her, hoping that she could see the love he had for her reflected in his eyes.

“He was right,” her lips trembled slightly. “Most everyone does hate me.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re still horribly outnumbered, love.”

His fingers stroked delicately over her hair again. “Arthur doesn’t hate you. Neither does Ada. Or Uncle Charlie, or Curly, or Johnny Dogs, or Aberama, or the kids…there’s lots of people who care about you.”

A shaky breath left her lips, turning her face to hide against his stomach. Tommy put his arms around her, the embrace a little awkward due to their positioning of her laying across his thighs, but they managed. His sweet girl. His best friend. His lover. His Lucy. With her huge heart and her desperation to make everyone else’s lives better and easier even at the expense of her own. She didn’t deserve any of this. 

He wanted to gather her up, pull her into his chest where he could keep her safe and sheltered forever. 

“I love you.” His grip around her tightened, lips pressing to her neck, slowly working their way up to her cheek, brushing only just against her mouth when she turned her head to receive him. “I love you so much.” His body shifted against hers, holding her closer, suddenly desperate to comfort her in the best way that he knew how. “Let me show you.”

Her lips parted to his, hands latching onto his shoulders when he brought his mouth down more firmly on hers. A soft groan left his throat at the first slow stroke of their tongues against each other. Shifting them with a hand on the back of her head and the other at her waist, he pulled her up the couch a little so that her head was laying on the armrest with him hovering over her. 

“Should we go upstairs?” Lucy asked between long, slow kisses.

“No,” he shook his head, hands moving to open the buttons on her shirt. He heard her breath catch as he moved his face to start sucking love bites into her neck. “We have the house all to ourselves, tonight.” 

It was a rare occurrence. Where once they’d been free to fuck almost anywhere they pleased in the big mansion, after his marriage to Lizzie they ended up more often than not relegated to their room. Neither of them were particularly eager to have to face the sour mood that would likely follow if Lizzie caught them entangled together. 

A shudder went through Tommy, momentarily thrilled at the thought of being able to have her out in the open like this. His want for her was building steadily, trousers growing uncomfortably tight, not helped in the slightest when she opened her legs to let him lay in the cradle of her hips. 

Charlie almost always slept like the dead. He wouldn’t be up again tonight. And the staff had already turned in for the evening. There was no risk of them being interrupted. 

Clothes came off, tossed carelessly to the floor while they continued to kiss over and over again. Tommy’s hands threaded through her hair, feeling the soft red strands twine around his fingers, as if trying to cling to him as tightly as she was gripping his back and shoulders.  

“Tommy…” Her hand was on the nape of his neck, pulling his mouth down even more firmly onto hers. 

“Want to make you feel better…” he crooned, slipping a thigh between her legs. A needy sound left him at the slickness his leg was met with and the noise she made at the pressure he was putting on her clit. Her hips started to grind onto him, greedy hands groping at his naked torso, tracing the shapes of his scars and tattoos. He couldn’t help the delighted sound he released when she ran her fingers around the sun rays that circled his left pec, drawing the circles tighter and tighter until she brushed against his nipple.

“Fuck,” she arched her back when his hands moved to cup both her breasts. He gave each globe of flesh a firm squeeze, thumbs stroking over her hardened nipples and lightly pinching them. Her hips jerked, rubbing herself more firmly against his thigh, and he felt his cock throb in response to her wantonness. 

Propping himself up on his hands, he raised himself over her enough so that he could drink in the glories of her body. Soft, delectable curves, with full breasts and round hips, her fair skin covered in an array of freckles and scars and encasing strong, lean muscle. 

He could have stayed there just looking at her for forever. Drinking in her unfathomable beauty. He wanted to worship her. Claim her. Gorge himself on her. Lay himself at her feet and let her do what she pleased with him. Married to Lizzie or not, it was Lucy who he belonged to completely. Always. 

A growling noise sounded from low in his chest, dropping his head and beginning to slowly working kisses down her body. Taking his time lavishing her breasts with his mouth before moving lower. She whined when he had to retract his thigh from between her legs, but quieted when he brought both her legs over his shoulders. Looking up at her through the fringe that had fallen partially into his eyes, a smirk pulled at his lips at the shiver that went through her as he slid his hands up her sensitive thighs, reaching for her wetness. At the first brush against her folds he groaned, finding her already soaked and throbbing for him. 

“Fucking hell, love.” His swollen cock pulsed, aching with the thought of how easily he would be able to slide into her. Lowering his face, he pressed a kiss to her clit, tongue teasing over the sensitive nub before darting out for a taste of her folds. On either side of his head, her legs twitched, her fingers diving into his hair, hips lifting to chase his touch. At the first breach of one of his fingers into her, he felt his jaw flex with a gasp at the tight warmth that enveloped the digit. Lucy’s fingers clenched in his hair, and when he looked up it was to find her with her head lolled back against the armrest, eyes screwed shut, full lips parted with a moan, her fiery hair a mess of glorious waves around her face. 

He swallowed roughly at the sight, another shock of need traveling down his spine straight to his cock. With a soft groan, he lowered his head back to her cunt, and set to work. He knew her body better than he knew his own. Knew just how to roll his thumb over her clit to make her nearly scream. When to curl his fingers inside her to get her moans to raise a pitch. And when she was warmed up and ready enough for him to add a second finger to the mix, stretching her even wider in preparation for the girth of his impatient erection. 

He coaxed her to the very brink of orgasm, drawing her up, up, up…listening to her moans grow in frequency and pitch, feeling the way that her walls gripped and fluttered around his fingers and her clit twitched on his tongue. And then he withdrew, grinning cheekily when she let out a mournful cry, eyes popping open as he moved to prop himself above her once again. Tears welled in her eyes at her stolen orgasm, an adorable pout forming on her lips.

She looked so fucking cute like that, all pleasure-drunk and desperate. 

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he soothed, not letting her suffer for long. This was about making her feel better, after all. And he had always been incapable of denying her anything. He kissed her nose, chuckling fondly at the pleading look that crossed her face. With the hand that moments ago had two fingers knuckle-deep inside her, he grasped his erection, hard and thick between his legs. Flushed and oozing beads of precum from the tip. It ached with pent-up desire, every throbbing inch longing for her tight cunt. “Want to be inside you when you come for me.” 

He saw her pupils blow out even further than they already were, almost swallowing the brown of her irises completely. “Tommy,” she reached out, pulling his mouth back to hers. He kissed her back desperately, each of them moaning into the other’s mouth as he lined himself up, weeping cockhead nudging at her entrance. 

“Ready?” he asked between long, wet kisses. He always liked to make sure. At her enthusiastic nod and mumble of consent, he pushed just the first few inches of his cock in, then withdrew completely, then pushed only the head back in again. She whimpered, nails scratching down his biceps lightly. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?”

He laughed, nuzzling at her cheek affectionately, as if his cock wasn’t crying out to him in protest each time that he withdrew it from her tight, wet entrance. Taking his chin in her hand, Lucy guided his mouth to hers, those pillow-soft lips of hers curled up into a smile as they brushed against his. Her other hand went to his ass, giving a gentle press to encourage him to go deeper, and this time he relented. Low moans were unleashed into each other’s mouths as he finally pushed himself all the way inside of her, until his balls rested against her and their hips were flush together.

Tommy’s head spun with the feeling of being buried to the hilt inside her. The fit was so snug, it made stars pop across his vision. He swore that there was no feeling in the world better than this. Being one with her. Having her in the circle of his arms. The warmth of her kiss sinking into his skin.  

He pushed himself up on his hands just enough to be able to brush a few tendrils of hair out of her face, caressing her cheek and smiling down at her softly. She smiled back at him, almost shyly. 

“I love you,” he punctuated the statement with a kiss. Her arms went around his shoulders.

“I love you too.”

He kissed her again, reaching down to take hold of one of her thighs to hook it around his waist, and then he slowly started to thrust.

Sex with Lucy had always been one of his greatest comforts. It served as a reaffirmation of the connection between them, that little invisible thread that seemed to tether them together only growing stronger with every touch. No one else made him feel so loved, so safe and free to simply be himself, as Lucy did. More and more these days, he found himself needing the reminder that she was still there. Despite everything. All the shit he’d put her through. All the monumental sacrifices that she had to make to be with him. She was still there, and she still loved him. 

It had never been lost on him how lucky he was. 

Most days, he ached both in and out with wounds that would never wholly heal. But her just being there made it all easier. She made him happy, even on the days when he started to think that he’d lost the ability to feel any sort of joyous emotion at all.  

“Lucy,” he grunted. Her walls were hugging every inch of his cock, squeezing tight enough around him to make him feel almost light headed. He watched her long lashes flutter, head falling back to expose the length of her pale throat to his kisses while she moaned as he found the right angle in his thrusts to rub right up against that spot that always had her coming in record time. 

“Right there. Right there. Don’t stop,” she begged, nails scoring down his back, no doubt leaving faint red scratches in their wake. Reaching a hand between them, he thumbed at her clit, drawing tight circles around it in time with their love making. 

He could feel the sensation of tingles starting to build at the base of his spine, his balls beginning to tense and draw up as they prepared to spill his load. He groaned deeply at the sensation of her hand gripping his ass so tightly he was sure that she left little crescent moon indentations from her nails behind. The idea of being marked by her in such a way was enough to make his eyes roll in his head, hips bucking more vigorously. 

“I’m coming,” she gasped, as if he could not already feel it in the way that she squeezed around him so tight that it felt like she was trying to draw his very soul out through his cock and into her. The hand she had resting on the back of his neck pressed his face down more firmly against where he was sucking at the place where her neck met shoulder. The flexing and tightening of her walls around him had Tommy careening right over the edge with her, cock twitching and then releasing as he let out a thunderous groan, rolling his hips a few more times to prologue the pleasure as he spilled into her. 

He stilled with a deep sigh, head coming to rest on her clavicle, arms wrapping around her, keeping his still slightly twitching cock buried deep in her body. Lucy draped her arms around his shoulders. They were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, chests heaving as they fought to catch their breaths. 

Tommy closed his eyes, peacefulness momentarily sweeping over him as Lucy started to absentmindedly trace her fingers over a scar on his shoulder, then reached up to stroke his hair. Turning his face, he pecked at one of the many scars that covered her skin, nuzzling before raising his head to find her lips once more.    

“Feeling better?” he asked, moving his mouth from her lips to her cheek. 

“Mhm,” she brushed a few bits of dark hair out of his eyes. “Thank you.” Cradling his face, she kissed him again softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He moved to kiss her neck again a few times. “You’re a good mum, you know.”

She averted her gaze, suddenly becoming very interested in rubbing a hand up and down his chest. Tommy’s fingers curled at her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“You are.” His voice was stern, but kind. “Charlie adores you. They both do.”

Her hand flattened against the smattering of hair on his chest, and based on how still she suddenly became, he could tell that she was feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths and the thump of his heart. 

“Thank you,” she said again, and he knew from simply looking into her eyes that she was talking about far more than just tonight or his words of reassurance. He gave her a soft look, brushing his nose affectionately against hers. Dropping his face to bury into the side of her neck, he breathed in the lingering scent of her perfume, enjoying the warmth of her skin. The weight of her tucked in his arms was incredibly comforting. He could have stayed there forever. 

But falling asleep on the couch was likely to cause her shoulders to bother her come morning. Even without her chronic pain, neither of them were exactly spring chickens anymore. Her remembered when they used to be able to fuck on the floor without issue. 

“Shall we go to bed?” Lucy asked, apparently thinking the same thing that he was. Tommy nodded, drawing himself up enough to kiss her once more before he pulled out, both of them wincing a little at the oversensitivity as he withdrew his softening cock. Sitting up on the couch, he began hunting around for their clothes, dragging on his underwear and passing Lucy her knickers. 

“Oi!” he huffed, trying–and failing–to hide his smile when she snatched away his undershirt, pulling it on to let it hang loosely over her body. She was short enough that it came down nearly to her mid-thigh.

“Mine now,” she said possessively, flashing him a cheeky grin. Tommy cupped the back of her head, drawing her in for yet another kiss. 

“Looks better on you anyway.”

She smiled, looking down bashfully, cheeks turning an adorable light pink. An undignified yelp left her lips when he suddenly stood and scooped her up, carrying her bridal style towards the stairs. 

“What about the rest of our clothes?” she laughed, looping her arms around his neck. 

“The maids will deal with them.”

She hummed, letting her head lean against his chest. His steps stuttered when she started to pepper firm kisses all across his skin, breath hitching when she let her teeth nip teasingly at his nipple, footfalls growing hastier, until he was almost speed-walking towards their room. 

She opened the door for him since his hands were full, and he didn’t bother turning on a light as he stepped in and kicked the door shut behind him. Moonlight snuck in through the sheer curtains, casting silvery-blue beams across the floor. Tommy captured her lips in his, movements creaking the floorboards as he managed to get them to the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows after he tossed her onto the mattress, and it was not lost on him how her eyes trained on his naked chest before lowering to fix on the tent already starting to form in his shorts. 

“Again?” she laughed, as he crawled on top of her.

“Again,” he affirmed, and descended on her with a playful growl.

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