#im playing through chapter 1 and 2 to reach 3 and 4

[void-of-lazyness-and-cats]

Me and my giant ass party

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 14 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: Buck’s hands trail down to your hands. He takes his in yours. “Do you love him?” “Buck.” “I know you love me,” Buck continues, playing with your fingers. “You know I love you. But I’m asking if you love him.” The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Ch 12 | Ch 13

Chapter Summary: Your relationship has some growing tension that leads to an explosive revelation.

Word Count: 3.7k Warnings: a whole lotta angst, violence, discussions of religion

The shifting of the relationship was gradual. You brushed it off at first, attributing it to working long shifts or a lack of a good night’s sleep.

It started after Eddie was held hostage by Mitch. He assured you and Buck countless times that he’s okay and just happy Mitch’s son made it out of surgery. His words didn’t match his actions, though. He stopped greeting you both with a kiss in the morning. He started coming to bed later.

Then, you saw the bruises.

They started on his arms and legs, only the occasional purple and green discoloration. You didn’t think much of it; if someone breathed on you wrong, it could leave a mark. One morning, though, you noticed something much more severe.

Eddie had a massive bruise between the tattoo on his arm and his elbow. It was a mix of blue, purple, and red; it looked fresh, raw, and painful .

“Jesus,” you remarked after setting down your coffee. “What happened to you?”

Eddie looked at his elbow as if he didn’t initially know what you were talking about. “Christopher and I were roughhousing.”

“Were you also playing with hammers?”

“I’m fine.”

The tone of his voice left no room for discussion. It felt like all the air was sucked out of the atmosphere around you. The words wouldn’t reach Eddie’s ears no matter what you said. They would simply linger in the space between the two of you.

You can feel him slipping through your fingers; that’s what you would say. You can feel the distance between you grow little bit bigger with each one-word sentence. You don’t know how to fix it, as much as you want to. You wonder if Eddie feels the same growing gap. You wonder if Buck does. You wonder if ignorance really is bliss, or if it’s just delaying the inevitable.

You’re called to a 10-51 outside of a bar — it’s a drunk and disorderly complaint. In all your years of working in paramedicine, they’re some of your least favorite calls. Nine times out of ten, they end up in custody, which means an officer has to ride with them to the hospital, which pisses them off even more. It’s a lose-lose-lose situation more often than not.

You have no clue why this guy is so angry. You hear him spout the usual complaints: work, taxes, the government, blah blah blah. You watch as four patrol officers shift and dance around him like he’s a feral animal they’re trying to cage.

You look between Buck and Eddie. “You boys ready?”

They both nod.

When both your boys are on a drunk and disorderly call, you have a system worked out: they each grab one side while you give IM Versed. Some patients take longer than others to calm down, and some of them require an additional dose, but so far, the Versed always comes out on top.

You hide the capped syringe behind your back. Both the boys push through some of the officers, while you sneak your way to behind the patient. You watch Buck raise one finger, then two, then a third, before they both advance. Buck grabs his right arm while Eddie grabs the left.

You approach them, uncapping the syringe and raising it to the patient’s deltoid, the muscle just below the shoulder. You’re normally pretty quick, but this guy is somehow quicker.

He breaks free from Eddie’s grasp, arm swinging violently. All of a sudden, your vision goes black and an external force knocks you to the ground.

There’s a lot of shouting, but you can barely make it out over the ringing sound in your ears. You can feel the knees of your pants and the fabric over your elbows begin to saturate. Damn, he knocked you all the way to the ground.

“Hey, are you okay?” A voice asks. “Baby, are you hurt?”

You have yet to open your eyes, but you’d know Eddie’s voice anywhere. You nod slightly, then let out a groan when the motion makes your head spin.

“Here, let me see,” Eddie says, gently guiding you to a sitting position.

You feel his fingers perch under your chin, tipping your head upward. You frown at the movement when it makes you feel dizzy again. When the dizziness subsides, you slowly open your eyes.

Your vision is bleary, but Eddie’s face is close to yours. In the foreground, you can make out Buck completely laying on the patient to subdue him while officers swarm around them both.

“You’ve never called me that,” you say as Eddie puts a penlight through your line of vision.

“Looks like your cheekbone took the brunt of it, not your eye,” Eddie observes. He clicks the button on his radio. “This is RA 118 requesting an additional unit, one of our medics was assaulted on our 10-51 call.”

“ 10-4, ” you hear Maddie’s voice respond.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Eddie whispers, setting a gentle hand on your cheek.

You can’t help but smile. “You called me ‘baby’ again. You never do that, but you should keep doing it.”

That at least earns you a grin. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes, though. You can tell he still feels guilty.

“It’s not your fault, Eds,” you whisper.

“I should’ve had a better grasp on him.”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time a little louder.

“Yes, it is,” he disagrees. “I… my elbow locked up. It’s my fault.”

“I’ll stop by in a few days to get your full statement. For now, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Sergeant Grant.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Athena.”

You smile. “Thanks, Athena.”

Athena smiles back. She looks at you, then at Buck and Eddie, who are on either side of you. Buck is sitting in the rolling stool meant for the ER staff, while Eddie has his back pressed to the counter.

“You boys take care of her,” she directs. “Make sure she gets home okay.”

Buck nods. “Yes ma’am.”

Eddie presses his lips together before eventually nodding.

Athena dismisses herself from the room, wishing you all a good night.

You hate being in the ER as a patient, mostly because you hate waiting. The ER doctor already ruled out an ocular injury, attributing your blurred vision to either a head injury, facial swelling, or both. He did order a head CT to rule out any internal injury, so after some blood work, you’re waiting for the scanner to be available.

The room is tense. Neither of the boys has left your side, but they haven’t said much, either. It’s an awkward combination.

Eddie shifts his arm and winces. He pushes off the counter with his good arm, then grabs his bad elbow. He rubs the bruise.

“The pain’s getting worse,” you observe. He doesn’t have to tell you with words because his body language is screaming.

“It’s nothing,” Eddie mumbles as he continues to rub his skin.

You turn to Buck, who’s holding your hand. “Do you know he got it?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Eddie interrupts.

“He won’t tell me,” you tell Buck, ignoring Eddie’s interjection.

Eddie says your name in a warning tone.

Buck looks at him, then back at you as he squeezes your hand. “He won’t tell me, either.”

Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes a little. “You two are making way too big a deal out of this.”

The ER doctor, Dr. Patel, knocks on the wall before pulling back the curtain and entering. “Hey, thanks for your patience. I wanted to let you know you’re next in line for CT.”

“Sounds great, thank you,” you say, shifting in the bed. “Hey, can you look at my friend’s arm?”

“Would you stop?” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Doc, my friends here are worried over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you press. “Move your hand, let him see the bruise.”

Eddie looks from you to Dr. Patel, who shrugs. “It’d be free of charge.”

Eddie sighs and relents, moving his hand.

With careful hands, Dr. Patel inspects Eddie’s arm. He pokes around the bruise on his elbow, which makes Eddie wince again.

“How did this happen?” Dr Patel asks.

“It happened at work,” Eddie says, “we’re firefighters.”

“You told me it happened when you were roughhousing with Chris,” you counter.

Eddie avoids your eyeline. “It’s probably a mix of both.”

When Dr. Patel pushes back on his hand, Eddie hisses and withdraws. “I’d recommend an X-ray to rule out a fracture, but since this is off the books, I’ll tell you that it seems to be a strain of the common extensor tendon.”

“So, off the books, how does one fix that?” You ask.

“Off the books, you treat a strain with rest, ice, and over-the-counter anti-inflammatories.”

Eddie purses his lips briefly, then extends a hand. “Thanks, doc.”

Dr. Patel smiles as he shakes his hand. “No problem. I’ll have someone show you boys to the waiting room.”

Buck kisses your temple and rubs your hand before letting go. He stands, clearing his throat. “Take care of her, okay?”

Dr. Patel smiles again, setting a hand on Buck’s shoulder as he slips out. “Of course.”

Eddie waves goodbye, and it leaves you alone in the room with Dr. Patel. You shift in your seat awkwardly.

Dr. Patel’s smile fades as he sits where Buck was moments ago. The sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere makes you sick with anxiety.

“Your blood work came back, and one of the results was… abnormal. I thought it would be best if we discuss it alone.”

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Eddie runs a hand down his face. “Buck, I’m-”

“I swear, Eddie, if you say you’re okay one more time, you’re going to need an ER visit.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything; he just sets his elbows on his knees, dipping his head down.

Buck sighs, leaning back in his chair. “You know, when I was… working through things, I shut her out.”

Eddie casts a glance over his shoulder. “How did that work out?”

“It almost ended us.”

Eddie’s lips shift in contemplation.

“Then, I told her everything. And it got me everything I ever wanted.”

At this, Eddie chuckles a little. “Everything you ever wanted? Seriously?”

It sounds like a ploy more than anything, a hyperbole to get Eddie to talk. He’s been around that block once or twice, so it isn’t something he’ll fall for easily.

“Yeah,” Buck confirms, voice unwavering. There isn’t a trace of humor or doubt in his tone. He doesn’t sound cocky, just… confident. “It got me both of you.”

They go back to being quiet. It’s comfortable for Buck and absolutely suffocating for Eddie.

Buck’s hand is resting on the armrest. Eddie can see it shift in his periphery. He feels Buck’s hand on his thigh, slowly inching closer to his hand. Buck’s fingertips reach his wrist before he lets out a breath and sits back. His eyes scan across the waiting room.

“Eddie,” Buck says softly. In that moment, Eddie thinks he may be telepathic, or maybe he just knows Buck too well, because he knows exactly what he’s about to say. “They don’t know about us. They don’t care .”

It shouldn’t be a big deal, mostly because Buck is right: no one knows. They don’t know that Buck is only one of the two people he’s in love with. They don’t know that the other person he’s in love with is in an ER room. They don’t know that she’s there because of him. They look like two men in love, two men who should be able to hold hands in a waiting room.

So… why can’t Eddie bring himself to do it?

“Can you at least look at me?”

Buck’s voice breaks through, and Eddie’s racing thoughts come to a screeching halt. His tone dances on the edge of desperation, and it hurts Eddie’s heart, but it doesn’t hurt enough for him to listen.

“You boys ready to ditch this place?”

They look up. It’s you. You’re out of the hospital gown and back in your uniform. The bruise on your cheekbone is getting darker by the minute, but despite it, there’s a smile on your face.

“Woah, that scan was quick,” Buck remarks.

“Yeah, the longest part is always the waiting.”

It’s subtle, but Eddie catches it. He sees the way your smile faulters, the way the light leaves your eyes for a second. You recover quickly; your smile evens out, and the sparkle returns in less than a second. Eddie saw it, though. He knows that change anywhere. He’s been living in that change for the last few weeks.

You’re caught in a lie.

He just has no clue what you’re lying about.

You clear your throat. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nursing school sucks.

You knew it would suck, but you didn’t know it would suck this bad. Your experience and certifications as a paramedic allow you to skip a year of coursework, and it still sucks really bad.

Whenever you aren’t working, you’re doing something for school. When you aren’t writing a paper, you’re working on a project. When you aren’t working on a project, you’re reviewing skills. When you aren’t reviewing skills, you’re studying. And there’s so much to study between medications and disorders and terminology. You’re barely a month into the term and you’re already looking forward to Thanksgiving break.

There’s a silver lining to it all — you’re too busy with school to think about anything else.

You can’t remember the last night you spent at Eddie’s house. Actually, you can’t remember the last time you kissed him. He’s been distant, and you’ve been busy, and that combination is intimacy’s killer.

It’s fine. Well, it’s probably not fine. But you don’t exactly have the time nor the resources to fix it. Besides, all things considered, it’s actually… comfortable. It's not the type of comfortable it started as, but a different type. It’s no longer the ‘everyone is okay and nothing else matters’ type of comfortable; it’s more of an ‘everything isn’t okay but it’s easier to pretend it is’ sort of comfortable.

It’s like seeing a deer standing in the road miles ahead. You’re going 55 on the highway, and the deer doesn’t see you yet. You know that, in a matter of seconds, everything will either be completely okay or it will end in blood. You know that, no matter what, someone’s gonna end up running.

But you’re not at the end yet. For now, you’re in that sweet spot where you see the deer and the deer doesn’t see you, but it doesn’t matter. You can see the end, but you’re not there yet. You don’t press on the gas, but you don’t move over the brakes yet, either. You know the ending, and you’re in no rush to see it, so for now, you’re just watching everything play out.

“Everything okay?” Hen asks.

You look up. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You purse your lips as you shut your laptop. “No.”

In the last few months — and especially the last few weeks — you haven’t been a great friend to Hen. You haven’t been a deliberately bad friend, but the relationship has been very one-sided. Lately, your friendship consists of Hen asking questions about your relationship and you subsequently bitching about it.

“It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”

See, you were gonna try to talk about something else, maybe how Karen’s doing or if Denny’s school year started okay. But then she says something like that and she just… knows . She knows something is up, and she probably knows how badly you need to talk about it.

You’ve mentioned it to Buck more than once, but the conversation never seems to have a satisfying ending. You both always agree to let Eddie come to you in his own time. Eddie has yet to do so. He doesn’t have any new injuries, but that’s probably because he’s still healing his strain. He isn’t getting more avoidant, but he isn’t forthcoming like he used to be. Eddie’s in purgatory; all you and Buck can do is watch.

“He’s been acting weird, right?” you settle on saying. “I mean, it started with him keeping secrets, which I was… fine with. I mean, not fine, but I dealt with it, you know? But then the bruises started. He never had a good explanation for them, either.”

Hen shrugs. “He’s a guy.”

“That’s it? That’s your advice? ‘He’s a guy’?”

She chuckles. “I’m just saying that men tend to deal with these things differently than we do. For the most part, when things don’t make sense, women like to talk about it. Guys… they like to hit things.”

It turns out that ‘guys like to hit things’ was exactly the advice you needed. It’s the advice that led you to a boxing studio after hours. You responded to a call involving an injured boxer a while back, and the owner said to call anytime you needed a favor. You’re cashing it in.

“So… what exactly are we doing here?”

You dragged both of your boys with you. Words haven’t worked things out, so you’re hoping a little good old-fashioned sparring will do the trick.

You pick up a pair of boxing pads. You slide your hands into them before clapping them together, the sound muffled by the thick padding. “We’re gonna hit things.”

The boys share a look, then a chuckle.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Talking isn’t working, so we’re gonna start hitting,” you explain. “And if that doesn’t work, then I’m out of ideas.”

You reach for a pair of boxing mitts. You hold them out. “Who’s going first?”

Buck looks to Eddie, then shrugs. “I’ll try anything once.”

You and Buck spar in the ring. You both get quicker as you get more confident, and his punches get faster. You keep up with ease. You don’t stop until Buck’s forehead is pouring with sweat.

You lean against the ropes. “Feel better?”

Buck wipes a drop of sweat away from his nose as he breathes heavily. He nods wordlessly.

You smirk in satisfaction. “Alright, Diaz, you’re up.”

Eddie’s sitting on a stool in the corner of the ring. You could feel his eyes bounce between you and Buck the whole time you were sparring. When your attention shifts to him, he looks like he wants to argue. He must know he’ll lose the argument because he stands with a sigh.

As Buck walks by to trade places with him, he holds the boxing gloves against his chest. Eddie takes them, and Buck’s hand moves to his shoulder. He squeezes and leaves his hand where it is until Eddie approaches you.

You lift your hands and brace a foot behind you. “You ready?”

Eddie's answer is a fist landing on the pad.

He isn’t hesitant like Buck was — his punches are fast and relentless, like bullets coming out of a gun. You struggle to keep up at first, but the two of you eventually find your rhythm.

“What’s got you so pissed?” you ask.

Eddie’s eyes find yours for a moment. They’re dark by nature, but there’s something different about them now. It’s like there’s no trace of him behind them, just pure anger.

“Doesn’t matter,” he eventually huffs out between blows.

“Is it me? Is it Buck?” you continue.

“Neither,” he answers.

“Is it us?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. He punches a little harder.

“It is, isn’t it?” You prod.

“No,” Eddie says through his teeth. “It’s me.”

You frown. “What about you?”

“Everything. My thoughts, my actions, my relationships.”

“What about your relationships?”

“It’s wrong!”

The room quiets. Eddie stops throwing punches. Your hands fall limply at your sides.

“It’s wrong?” You whisper.

Eddie lets out a sound similar to a growl. He pulls off his gloves, throwing them to the side and running his hands through his hair.

“It’s… wrong,” Eddie repeats, his hands finding their way to his hips. “I was raised in a religion that believes marriage is between a man and a woman. But I was raised in El Paso, which is about as liberal as Texas can get. I have gay family members, and we’ve always loved them the same.”

Buck stands up, carefully approaching the two of you. “So what’s wrong about this?”

“It would be one thing if I was just dating a guy,” Eddie continues. “Dating more than one person, though? Dating a guy and a girl? It’s like… I can’t wrap my head around it. There’s no way my family could, no way that…”

“...That God could,” you finish.

You’re not a stranger to religion, but it isn’t your best friend, either. When your dad got too drunk, your neighbors across the street took you in for a few weeks, and they went to church every Sunday. They were Christian — you’re fuzzy on the exact denomination, but you know they weren’t Catholic. The Richardsons weren’t out in the street fighting for marriage equality, but from the time you spent with them, they seemed more ‘Love thy neighbor’ than ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ type of people.

“I don’t even know if I believe in God,” Eddie says with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I believe in Him, but I’m terrified of disappointing him. How does that even work?”

“You wouldn’t be a lapsed Catholic if you didn’t have at least a little guilt,” Buck offers. Eddie smiles a little, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

There’s a burning question, and you don’t know how else to ask it. “Do you still want to do this?”

Eddie swallows. “I… I don’t know. I just need… some time, I think.”

Buck wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. He’s much nicer than you.

See, you’re tired. You’ve given Eddie time — a lot of time. You’ve given him time to himself, time to work things through, time to come to you. You’re kind of tired of giving him time. Especially because now, you can hear the clock ticking. There’s only so much time left before everything changes.

You rip off the pads, tossing them to the side near Eddie’s gloves.

Buck frowns as he says your name. “What’s wrong?”

You laugh a little, and it brings tears to your eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

[sturnixblogger]

who to choose?

chapters: 1 , 2 , 3

!WARNING! : smut, pussy eating ,( p in v ), fingering , stroking dick , unprotected sex ( do NOT )

notes: i might make this a chapter story im not sure☺️ Not proof read

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶

You are visiting the triplets in LA because you moved to Los Vegas for a feel around to see where you want to start off your journey with social media. Even though Los Angeles and Los Vegas aren’t that far it is still a long drive and might as well stay for a couple days. You finally arrive after a 4 hour drive, You take ur suit case up the stairs tripping up the stairs .Nick notices you and comes outside to help you up, “ Girl why did u bring a suit case your only staying a few days “ Nick chuckles . You sigh while looking at your leg because ur bleeding from scrapping ur leg against the cement . “ just invade i stay longer and also nick, i’m a girl what do you expect “ Y’all walk inside and Nick yells across the house “ CHRIS , MATT, Y/N is here” Nick sets ur suitcase to the side asking if u needed anything , you say no as u see Chris turning from the corner from coming up the stairs . “ Hey y/n” Chris says as he goes in for a hug . You smile as you reach in for a hug.

Chris backs up as his eyes scan ur body as ur wearing a shirt black skirt with a cropped tank top and he notices the deep scrape on your leg. “

Holy shit what happened to your leg , it’s bleeding “ he squats looking at it . “ I tripped coming up the stairs “ you chuckle. You notice chris’s eyes going up as he try’s to look at your face but he accidentally looks at your cunt. He sprints up scratching his neck while looking away . You see Matt leave the bathroom while walking over to you. “ Hey y/n “ he says with a smile .

A couple hours later

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪︶֪︶︶֪︶︶

Everyone is sitting in the living room watching the twilight movies . You sit up and say “ Guys i have to use the bathroom real quick can u pause the movie “ you get up and Chris stares at you as u pull the blankets off of you revealing the booty shorts that had one of ur ass cheeks out and a tank top on .You pull down ur shorts and u look back to see Chris staring at you and he quickly looks away . You chuckle as u go down the hallway to the bathroom next to Matt’s room . You forget you have the cut and pull down ur shorts rough making it glide hard against ur cut making u wince. Chris hears it and goes to the bathroom door. “ Hey it’s chris, you okay i heard you “ he says choking up on his words . “ Yeah im fine , i forgot i had a cut and put too much pressure on accident “ you say chuckling embarrassingly. You hear foot steps descending away from the door. When u go back into the living room you sit down awkwardly and say “ You can start the movie again” Nick nods and plays the movie and you glance over and see Chris staring at you you quickly turn ur head back to the screen that’s playing the movie .

You end up falling asleep during the movie and Chris taps on your shoulder asking if u want to sleep in his bed because it’s more comfortable . You’re still half asleep so you just nod as he picks you up . Next thing u know you in his bed and he begins to leave and you whimper. “ you can stay “ you say while ur voice cracks from the dryness of your throat . Chris lays down next to you stroking your hair you feel him press against you and you feel his bulge through his pajama pants . You move your hips which makes his dick twitch in the movement against his dick. You continue to do that until you hear a soft moan in your ear . He wraps his arms around your waist and rubs the lower part of ur stomach . You accidentally let a little whine escape your lips and he says “ Y/n, are you awake” you turn around and you smash ur lips onto his . He groans pulling you closer to him as he swallows ur moans. Your lips fall apart and he starts rubbing your cunt from outside of you panties “ your panties are soaked , is that all for me baby” you moan as ur throbbing clit rubs against his fingers . He takes off your panties as he slides down under the covers . You feel his hand graze the inside of ur thigh which makes u jerk . His tongue lightly and slowly moving around your folds. You gasp and you feel his hit breath and his giggle vibrating against you. He takes his finger gently putting it near ur entrance. “ woah your so wet, all for me ?” you groan lightly the feeling of his touch as you rock ur hips. Chris takes one finger and thrusts it into your pussy. He starts licking your clit which makes your legs shake from pleasure .

“ Oh Chris- yesss,fuck” you loan while your hands tangle into his hair. He hums making a vibration against your clit making you jolt in pleasure. He puts another finger in your cunt and thrusts flow and deep . You feel a knot in your stomach. “ Chris i’m - i’m about to - i’m about the cum, fuuuuckk” Next thing u know a pool of heat waves about if you and the tension in your tummy releases. “good girl, cumin all over my fingers “ he goes up and lays next to you. You reach over grabbing his bulge , he twitches and looks at you while he rubs your inner thigh. You pull his pants and boxers down as his dick springs out slapping his lower tummy. “ Woah you’re so big” you mumble . He chuckles at your words as throws his head back. You start pumping his dick . Soon u get on your knees flipping your hair back and you swirl your tongue on his swollen tip. He groans and holds ur head as you tease him. You slowly take him in your mouth and boo ur head up and down . “ Fuuuuck- take this big cock baby, take it” he groans . you go faster and u take him in fully, his cock past your uvula . “ i’m going to cum baby “ he says breathlessly. You stop at his words looking up at him with your puppy eyes. “ why you stop baby” you groans at the loss of your touch. “ I want you to cum inside my pussy “ you say giggling. You hop on top of him as you hover over his cock, you slide down taking him all in . “ fuuck chris - your so big” you start bouncing up in down and screams “i’m cumin i’m cumin” he releases inside of you as you feel his warm liquid enter your cunt . You moan at the feeling and your walls clench around his dick . You cum on his dick right after him. You fall beside him as you place your head in the crook of his neck drifting off to sleep.

The next morning you hear the door open. It’s Matt. You and chris still naked covers halfway off from sweating . “ What . The. Fuck” Matt exclaims . Your heart drops and u freeze. Chris wakes up seeing Matt standing there in absolute agony and shock. “ You FUCKED her chris, You FUCKED y/n” Matt says while his throat cracks .

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Part 2??👀

[luminetti]

𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ༺♡༻ Chapter 5

༘⋆Notes: its me. im sorry. im the low-bred limpering insufferable fool. 1/3 of ch6 is already written and im an english major so heres to hopefully not releasing it a literal year later

༘⋆ Chapters: ┆[1] ┆[2]┆[3]┆[4]┆[5]┆[6] ┆[7] ┆

ao3

“How come you haven’t left, Gale?” You asked, paintbrush bristles dragging along the canvas in long, drawn-out strokes. 

He raised an eyebrow as you broke the peaceful silence, staring down at the chess board in front of him. “I told you my situation earlier, did I not?” Gale replied, reaching over the table to capture a vulnerable pawn. “The letter I received lured me into a duel, and when I… failed… it left me with few options.”

“I know that much,” you chided. “But you’ve healed–hold that position–at least enough to take a carriage safely.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“You must have people to return to.

“That I do.”

You swirled the brush in the jar of water, tendrils of paint turning it a light shade of violet. “Then why haven’t you returned?”

Gale’s gaze unfocused as he stared blankly at the chessboard. “I… I do not know,” he admitted earnestly. “Everything awaits me back home, and that’s what frightens me. I don’t…” he trailed off, swallowing and straightening in his chair. “I just need time to mull over it all.”

His finite tone ended the conversation and you quietly returned to your painting, sitting back to view it in its entirety. “I believe I’ve finished,” you said, motioning him over.

The chair ground against the floor as Gale stood to see for himself.

“I think it turned out beautiful,” he breathed, examining each brush stroke with intimate fascination. “I look so… natural.”

You smiled, watching his expression far closer than the painting itself. “You are natural. In here, I mean,” you gestured to the withdrawing room. “We’re happy to have you here as long as you please.” 

Being honest, it was getting difficult to imagine the manor without Gale in it. Upon hearing about his interest in literature, Euphemia had brought her entire collection from her room and had Sebastian set up a small bookshelf next to the chess board. It was hard to tell if Gale was as interested in botany books as much as she was, but he was appreciative nonetheless.

“You know, Sebastian quite enjoys chess. He’d be happy to play someone who actually knows what the pieces do.”

A smile spread across Gale’s lips as he tore his gaze from your painting. “That so? I must offer him a game.”

“Careful, he might not let you leave when he finds out,” you reply.

“I suppose I’ll have to stay a little longer then.”

✣ ✣ ✣

“Why do you have that?!” Gale repeated, rushing forward and ripping it from your hand like it was contraband. “You shouldn’t be in here.” He sidestepped you to rummage through the papers on the desk, searching for more missing letters.

“What did she mean by ‘Duchess Dekarios’?” You questioned, reaching out to catch his arm.

He waved your hand away, sparks flickering at his fingertips like firecrackers that threatened to ignite. “That,” Gale spat, shoving the letter deep into his breast pocket, “Is absolutely none of your business.”

You bristled, fingers tingling where his magic had shocked you. “It absolutely is my business! I thought- I thought we were-”

“Courting?” His eyes sliced to you. “Wouldn’t that be nice.” Papers crumpled beneath the pads of his fingers as he frantically snatched everything from the desk. “By the Gods, I’ll never get to make that choice for myself, will I?!”

Your head reeled in confusion and unanswered questions. “What are you talking about? Of course you–”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, icy and frozen over. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, I’ve known it since I was sixteen.” Gale paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair and gripping his temples. “If you had just let me–” he bit back the rest of his sentence, averting his gaze and swearing under his breath. “It’s my fault,” he said after a beat of silence, quieter now. “I shouldn’t have stayed. If I went back to her this wouldn’t have happened.”

At first your chest stung as if a hand had reached inside and squeezed the life out of your heart. After a moment of silence, the heartbreak wove itself into fury. You grabbed his shoulder, shoving him back to meet your mistied eyes. “What have you been doing all this time?! Was this your plan?” You jabbed a finger into his chest, forcing him to stumble back. “To lead me on until my third season and become a spinster?! I’ll have the whole Ton wondering why I haven’t found someone to marry while you’re back in Waterdeep with a Duchess!”

Gale’s shoulders dropped and he breathed out all his tension, voice softening. “That’s not it at all–”

“What does Duchess Dekarios mean?!” You urged.

“I loved her!” Gale cried out, tugging his hair back with a defeated expression. “That’s what it means. It means if she asked me to jump, I don’t ask ‘how high,’ I claw my way to the heavens to join her. It-It means– I must– I– I…” he trailed off and his voice cracked. “It means I can’t stop loving her.”

“And what about now?” You asked, voice so soft and hoarse he nearly missed it.

“What?”

“Do you love her now?”

Gale was silent for several moments. “I should go,” he finally replied, throwing the bedroom door open and hurrying out into the hallway.

The floorboards creaked as you rushed to follow him. “Gale, why won’t you just talk to me?!”

With a flick of his wrist the front doors swung outwards and a gust of cold air breezed past you, sending a chill down your spine. “Please, let me go,” he begged, turning to stop you in your tracks. “You don’t know how hard you’re making this for both of us.”

As he called for a carriage, your mind sprinted for something, anything to say to make him stay.

“Just– Stop it, will you? Come back– You– Gale just– Listen to me! Gods– I love you!”

Gale froze, one foot already on the carriage step and for a moment it looked like he was going to jump right in and never be seen again, but to your surprise he turned around and headed towards you once more.

“Gale, I–” The words clogged in your throat as his lips crashed into yours, a protective hand on the back of your head, pulling you in closer. Cinnamon and parchment enveloped your senses, replacing all thoughts in your mind with him and only him. His other palm trailed down from your jawline to your collarbone before dropping to grip your waist.

“I know.”

Before you knew it he was pulling away and static filled the air making your hairs stand on end. Rapid winds thrashed against your skin and you stumbled backwards into the manor. Gale faced you with dispirited eyes and an outstretched hand as arcane winds slammed the manor doors shut in front of you. 

✣ ✣ ✣

“Pheems, please–”

Wood clicked together dully as Sebastian captured your second bishop, securing over half of your pieces while only three of his black pawns sat on your side of the table.

Euphemia didn’t even glance up from her newspaper. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m serious, just one game. She doesn’t–” He sighed, “Checkmate,” and slumped over in his seat. “She doesn’t even know the rules.”

She silently flipped the page.

“I know the rules, clod,” you snapped, shoving the board across the table and haphazardly flinging your captured king into his lap. “Castle goes that way–”

“The rook.”

“Horsie does the weird L-like shape–”

“The knight–”

“And this–shut the fuck up–is the bishop.”

Sebastian flinched as the piece collided with his forehead, whipping around to stare pointedly at Euphemia who conveniently lifted the paper to block his gaze.

He scoffed and pushed away from the table. “Whatever, I’m going to bed.”

The room fell silent as his footsteps faded from the door. A few beats of quiet after, you felt Euphemia lean over you, resetting the chess board to where it was previously.

You watched absently while rolling a pawn between your fingers.

Once the board was set, she rounded the table and took Sebastian’s place, eyeing you with a suspiciously pitying expression.

“I don’t want to talk,” you spoke finally.

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t say we would.”

“Especially not about the Viscount,” you continued, narrowing your eyes at her scrutinizing look.

“Wasn’t counting on it.”

Euphemia was never good at silence. Never has been. The two of you sat quietly, the only noise consisting of Euphemia’s periodical flipping of the newspaper. She made it about two pages before she let it fall to the table, pushing it aside.

“I used to prefer nasturtium,” Euphemia blurted.

You glance up at her, nose wrinkled in perplexion. “What?”

She swallowed, offering a small smile as she toyed with the cuticles of her nails. “Nasturtium flowers. They used to be my favorite.”

“You overestimate how relevant this is to me,” you instinctively snapped.

Euphemia inhaled shakily. “I… met a nasturtium flower once– tropaeolum, they’re also called.” Her eyes searched yours, flicking back and forth. “The second I saw them I knew I had a new favorite. We met in a… garden… a fancy one, like the Ravengard garden. She– the– the flower, I mean, was everything I wanted; warm and red like fire…” The corners of her lips upturned to a fond smile, “...resilient even in a world that was far from kind to her.”

You listened quietly as she dabbed her waterline with a handkerchief, whispering a ‘sorry’ under her breath.

“Flowers always liked me,” she continued. “Never had trouble growing them before. But this one…the soil– it wasn’t– I couldn't–” Her wavering voice cracked, struggling to finish her sentence. “At the time, someone like me shouldn’t be with a flower like her, so I couldn’t plant nasturtium, no matter how she begged me to. Me and Sebastian needed to… preserve the quality of our planter… so that when you became the age you are now, you could attend fancy gardens and get nasturtiums for yourself.”

“...And what of me now?”

Her palm gently clasped around your own and she leaned in, lowering her voice. “I may have failed love, but I know flowers. You have a chance to have nasturtiums, I can’t watch you lose it like I did.”

The soft tapping of Euphemia’s nervous jittering along the wooden chess board filled the otherwise hushed room. You had always thought of your sister as impermeable, too joyous to have experienced the difficulties of life and courting.

Finding your words, you took a breath, releasing the tension you didn’t even realize you held. “I think I understand.”

“It’s alright even if you don’t,” she replied simply. “Just let me be here for you. Let me be your sister.”

You nodded, fearing that tears would fall if you tried to speak again.

“I should sleep,” Euphemia said, pushing away from the table and standing, blotting the corners of her eyes once more before turning to leave.

“Pheems,” you called out suddenly.

“Hm?”

“You said you used to prefer nasturtium. What do you fancy now?”

She paused, eyes unfocusing as she gave the question thought. “Pink camellia,” she responded with a light smile. “I think I fancy pink camellias.”

✣ ✣ ✣

The pale curtains rippled in the breeze from the window, letting moonlight stream in briefly, casting cloudy shadows along your walls as the fabric rustled. You tossed in the goose down comforter restlessly. After all the time you’d spent together, how much did you really know Gale? He liked books, chess, roast beef with Waterdhavian pudding, and you, at least you had assumed. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been courting you.

Although a bit obtuse as Euphemia liked to say, you could at least pick out textbook signs of interest including, but not limited to: magic shows past eleven without a chaperone and gifts upon gifts ranging from a simple allergy-friendly bouquet to a silver necklace. It really was all quite gentlemanly. Textbook chivalry. Though, in etiquette class you don’t recall “wearing the insignia of another woman during the courting process” to be in the list of courting rituals.

You swore, swinging your legs over the side of the mattress and stepping out into the cold hallway, mind far too restless to even consider sleep. Curse you, Gale. Ever since you debuted, Euphemia made a point to ingrain into your brain that suitors, much less men in general, were not worth losing sleep over. And yet, here you were, up at ungodly hours of the night pouring over every single newspaper you could find from your sister’s stash. Turns out, in the past decade of journalism, there was a stark lack of reports surrounding the Mother of Magic herself, Duchess Mystra. She did charity four years ago, how philanthropic. She had apparently held a ball six years ago, and another just two. ‘Terribly exclusive’ the paper read, and that ‘refusal of an invitation would be considered treason to the very crown of Tymora.’ Terribly ostentatious, it sounded. To your delight–or absolute ruin, you weren’t entirely sure–unlike the Waterdhavians, Baldurians could not have cared less about following the gatherings of Mystra over their own Crown, Queen Selûne. At least there would be solace in that the Mother of Magic had little reach over Our Lady in Silver.

And on the topic of crowns, thank the Gods for Waterdeep’s late Duchess Mystryl, who had truly done all of Faerûn a service in the overthrowing of King Karsus. If Waterdhavian patriotism and exclusivity wasn’t already bad enough under the influence of Mystra, many more than just the higher ton would suffer under the late–and bless the gods for it–Karsus of Netheril. 

See, Euphemia? You were well versed in history.

Unfortunately that left few leads towards gathering what exactly made the Duchess so much more notable than yourself and captured Gale’s affections. You looked better. You weren’t over the age of, what, fifty? Sixty now? Which, frankly, should’ve been enough to dissuade Gale, even if she somehow had the face of someone barely over twenty-five.

Gale.

You missed him. You really did. And for some reason you couldn’t shake the feeling that he missed you too.

Before you knew it you were headed towards the guest room where Gale had been staying. The silver door knob was freezing to the touch and a chill ran down your back as you slowly stepped into the room. The hairs along your arms raised, ruffling your composure with an eerie tingle, skittering down your body from your neck to your feet. 

Papers were strewn about, far messier than the state you’d last seen it in. Gale was neat. Sterile even. He would’ve never left his room like this, no matter the altercation you two found eachother in.

The desk chair had fallen onto its side. The powder blue curtains were pulled shut, casting the room into a darkness that rivaled your closet back in the harrowed nights of your adolescence. Everything was pitch black except for the crack beneath the door leading into the closet where the build-in wardrobe lived. Gale had rarely used it.

A soft glow, white like the moonlight, flickered from inside the room accompanied by a quiet humming; sickly sweet and hushed enough that you could convince yourself it wasn’t even there. Misted and translucent, you could just barely make out a beam of light that stretched from the door and out through the walls, taut like a tether. The air was static, thrumming with an energy that made your pulse quicken and your necklace tingle against your skin. Glancing around, you snatched up the trusty fire poker from the fireplace, readying it in your hand.

You took a deep breath and threw open the door, instantly swinging the sharp metal rod out in front of you like an axe.

There right in front of you, was none other than the Duchess herself, starkly similar to the portraits you had been studying the past hour. However, in place of warm skin and silky fabrics, her image was made up of light. Celestial strands of stars threaded together to create long black locks that melted into a dark mass that coated her arms, running down her body like a dress woven from a nebula.

You whipped the fire poker through the air with a soft gust, but to your surprise, it passed directly through her astral form as if she wasn’t even there in the first place.

When she turned to glance at you with eyes just as transparent as the rest of her skin, she cast you an almost pitiful expression, trailing up and down your form. For a moment she lingered on your necklace, eyes narrowing nearly indiscernibly.

“Ah, It’s just you,” she murmured, turning back to rummage through the closet in disappointment. “Pity.”

You gaped at her, fingers gripping the stick of metal a bit tighter. “Y-You– What– ‘Just me’?!”

“Unfortunately,” she responded, plucking out a dusty book from the shelf and inspecting it briefly before tossing it over her shoulder into the pile at her feet. “I suppose the fault is my own. I expected someone… grander.”

The insult would’ve hit harder had you been able to actually make out her features, but thankfully–or perhaps not–they were obscured by the cosmic glitter and transparency. What did hit hard, maybe even harder than when you took Gale into your arms the day he first appeared on your doorstep, was the earring she bore. Her crest, of course; identical to his.

You weren’t quite naturally gifted at anything like Gale was with the Weave, nor did you have a knack for romance and flora like your sister. Hells, even Sebastian had his little quirks that gave him at least more personality than a wet rag. But for the first time since you and your siblings inherited the family estate long before it was due, you were sure of something. 

Mystra hardly cast you a look as she continued to toss books and clothes from the closet. “Really now, the staring is unbecoming. Surely your family taught you basic manners.”

“What is unbecoming is ransacking a manor in the dead of night,” you snap back, lifting the fire stick like a rapier. “What do you want from us?

“You?” she scoffs, “Gods, I couldn’t fathom wanting anything from you. Prithee believe when I tell you I am no more pleased about spending my evening here as you are.”

Her tone strikes a sharp chord in you and you slash at the first thing you see; a little misty strand running from her back and fading off after a couple feet.

“Insolent girl!” Mystra shrieks, and with the slightest wave of her hand you’re suddenly off balance, hurtling weightlessly into the wall. “Don’t you dare touch that!”

Air rushes back into your lungs as you gulp for breath, panting rapidly to restore the wind that she had knocked out. “Get out of my house,” you manage to spit out, voice wavering far too much to be threatening.

Keeping you flush against the wall, the Duchess turns back to the mess on the floor, kicking papers and ink wells around impatiently. “I have no time nor patience for this any longer, where is he?!”

Thrashing against her hold, you reach for a particularly large ink well and weakly throw it with the limited room you have. When that barely lands a foot ahead, you strike it hard with your shoe, sending jet black liquid all over the floors and soaking any books or papers beneath.

“You low-bred, insufferable, limpering fool!” Mystra howled, releasing the hold on you before releasing a hastily aimed glob of flames right past your head.

You just barely manage to dodge the next fiery attack, ducking around the strewn about furniture just in time for the ottoman you stood behind lit ablaze. The back of your neck sweltered from the proximity. Something cold and slick lands beside you, coating the side of your shoe and you instinctively manage to kick it off before the grease combusts with the rest of the fire, engulfing your discarded slipper. Flickering wisps of red hot flames snap at your legs, scorching whatever skin it could reach.

Suddenly, a wave of oppressive gravity pins you to your spot on the floor, and the Duchess readies another billowing orb that feels akin to the blazing sun.

You had a nasturtium, finally. You’re not losing him.

The moment your fingers finally grasp the silver pendant around your neck, a single word echoes in your head, reverberating off your skull and vibrating as it shoots far off into the distance in an almost corporeal form. And just as quickly as you call for help, a rush of something vaguely familiar fills your entire body, raising the hairs on your arm and giving the air around you a tinge of electricity. Before you know it you’re pushing a hand past the gravitational pull and light erupts from your fingertips, jolting across the room as if quickened by the nearby static. 

Mystra steps back in surprise, a thin spherical veil rising from her feet and slowly caging her in.

The last thing you see before everything goes dark is the dark crackling energy zipping past the closing shield.

taglist:

@vhaldren @qiific3 @cryingoverpixelsetc @pebble-bb @b00bs42069 @queen-of-elves

[danceswithsporks]

Awake- Part 10

Crosshair X InnKeeper!FemReader

Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

**Not Canon to Season 3**

Chapter Summary: The truth is finally revealed.

Authors Notes: It’s finally here! After not 1, not 2, but 3 complete rewrites. Two breakdowns and one serious consideration of giving up. It’s done. I’m so unbelievably sorry for how long this took to come out. I just couldn’t seem to settle on how I wanted this chapter to play out.

This is currently my longest chapter by a solid 7k characters over the last longest one. (Part 8 I believe) So please strap in and prepare yourselves for a long emotional chapter!

**Im so sorry for any issues with the font or anything. With the new character limit on tumblr I’m having to figure out a new way to post these long fics.**

Awake, part of the sniper truly wished he wasn’t awake right now. He wanted so badly for this to be a nightmare. That way he could wake up and you still would care about him. But instead he was very much awake, sitting on a crate next to you. The two of you had been staring out at the clouds that glowed from the light of the sun, silence surrounding you both.

Your caf had gone cold, sitting forgotten on the edge of the platform. How much time had passed since he’d agreed to tell you everything? It had to have been at least thirty minutes. You honestly didn’t care, the last thing you wanted was to rush him. If what you had read about the situation with Mayday had been anything like what he was going to tell you then you knew this would be hard.

With the sun now in the sky, it had heated up to a comfortable temperature. You reached up and unlatched the cloak from around your throat and began to shrug it off. Tentative hands reached over and helped you pull it off, letting it pool on the crate around you. “Thank you, Crosshair.” Came from you in a whisper.

“Of course, Doll.” He looked back out at the clouds for a moment. The two of you couldn’t sit out here like this forever. “Doll? Can I ask for a favor? Before we begin?”

You turned and looked at him. “Of course. Anything.”

Crosshair looked at you with worry filled eyes. “Kiss me?” Just one last kiss before everything crumbled. One last kiss before he lost you forever.

Why did that request make your heart drop? “Of course.” You slid closer to him and tilted your head up. Instead of his usual fast and hard kisses, this one was slow and filled with more emotions than you’d ever felt from him. You sighed softly while cupping his cheek with one of your hands while the other was placed over his heart. Why? Why did this kiss feel so different? So…

Sad?

The two of you kissed for nearly an eternity until he finally pulled away. Crosshair stayed close enough for the tip of his nose to touch yours. He took in every possible detail about you from your hair, to your eyes, your smile and your nose. His hands ran up and down your arms a few times before he pulled you into a tight embrace.

He held you close as he began.

“ Ya remember everything I told ya about Order 66? How I had no control?” He felt your head nod against his chest.

Not only did you remember what he’d described, you’d also heard from Cody and Howzer what it had been like.

“What did Crosshair tell you about Order 66? What did he describe?” Cody watched as you shifted slightly.

“That he didn’t have any control and that it was like watching himself through a window.” Your leg began to bounce. “He said that because of it, clones all across the galaxy turned on their Jedi and anyone associated with them. Even the children.” A thought that still haunted you and made your stomach twist. You looked at the both of them wondering if either of them had killed children.

Howzer let out a long breath. “He’s right. I was one of the lucky clones. My Jedi had died before that and we hadn’t been assigned a new one yet.” His deep brown eyes looked at Cody. “Others, not so much.”

You followed his gaze. “You don’t hav-“ Cody shook his head and stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“Kix has said it’s better that we openly talk about it. Instead of keeping it locked up.” He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out his datapad. “My General was by far one of the best there ever was. He was smart, wise and brave.” Cody let out a long sigh. “I loved him.” Tapping his screen, an image of him and a man with auburn hair and a matching beard appeared. Both men were smiling with their foreheads pressed together. They looked so happy together.

“He’s very handsome.” You spoke softly while reaching over and taking his free hand in yours.

Cody squeezed your hand gently. “He was.” His eyes didn’t leave the holo. “We were in the middle of battle on Utapau when we received the order. I had just handed him his lightsaber when we got the call.” A light chuckle left the clone commander. “He was always losing it. He’d tell the others that their lightsabers were their lives and yet I think he dropped it more than the others.” Cody looked down at his hip where a lightsaber hook still sat. Even after all this time, he couldn’t remove it.

You let a soft smile form on your lips. It reminded you of how Stitches would always misplace something. The man took a shuttered breath before continuing.

“One moment I was watching him ride off on his Boga, laughing at the way that man had lost his damn saber again, and then the next I was locked behind a soundproof window. Banging, screaming and pleading with my body as it gave the order to shoot him.” He closed his eyes, trying to fight back tears. “I watched the man I love fall to his death at my orders.”

Howzer reached over and squeezed his vods shoulder gently. “So many others out there have the same stories.” He thought about Bly and General Secura.

You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up and placing a hand on Cody’s cheek. “Was it common for one of you to fall in love with your Jedi?”

“Could you blame us?” Cody released your hand and raised it to touch the other one. “We spent all of our time with them. Got to know each and everyone of them. Every part of them and their personalities. There of course were the ones that saw us as nothing but fodder. But they were a minority against those who cared about us.” He appreciated the kindness and sympathy you were passing to him.

“Not everyone fell for their Jedi.” Howzer hummed softly. “Fox fell for Senator Chuchi.” He still remembered the day Fox told him and the others that he and Riyo had secretly gotten married. “Married her two standard weeks before everything happened.”

Fox? You’d heard that name before. “He’s the one all of you are trying to find. Right?”

Cody had put his datapad away. “He is. Senator Chuchi has done a lot for the rebellion and the Path. It’s the least we can do to pay her back.”

Your eyes went wide. You had known that they’d been working on something secret and dangerous. But the rebellion! It all made so much sense now! “What’s the Path?” Both men looked at each other before looking at you warily. You rolled your eyes. “Chai is doing something top secret. Stitches is making a bunch of clothes for men, women and children. I seem to be the only one not on the up and up. So what is it and how can I help?”

Howzer couldn’t resist smirking. You didn’t shy away from anything it seemed. No wonder Crosshair had fallen for you. The teal clone chuckled for a moment before hearing the terminal near them beep. Standing up, he walked over to it and tapped a few buttons. After a quiet moment, the screen became filled with information and an image of a clone trooper. “Rex can tell ya about it later.” Howzer stepped to the side so you could see. “Maydays file just arrived.”

“I had to watch as my body did horrendous things.” He buried his face into your hair, taking the scent in. Trying to engrave it into his memory. What he was about to say would end all of this. “Doll…” he held you tight. “I killed so many civilians.”

You tensed against him. “B-but not children…right? You said you didn’t kill any children.” Right? Right!

Crosshair closed his eyes, this was it. “Not Jedi children…” He felt your arms release him, but you didn’t try to pull away.

“What happened?” Your arms hung at your side as his words settled in.

“ After Order 66, we returned to Kamino to find that things had drastically changed. The Empire had taken over and was quickly changing everything. They wanted to test us, see how loyal we truly were.” Crosshair waited for you to pull away, to put distance between the two of you. But you didn’t. Instead you seemed to move closer to him. “So they sent us to take care of some insurgents. We thought that meant droids. Instead, we found refugees. Men, women, and children on the run. We also found Saw Gerrera.”

You don’t know why, but your blood ran cold and your arms suddenly wrapped around his waist tightly. “Th-then what happened?”

Crosshair sighed. “Hunter let them escape. We thought that would be the last we’d ever see of him.”

“But it wasn’t.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Not yet. You needed to hear the rest of what he had to say.

“No. It wasn’t.” He took a shuttered breath. “After we returned to Kamino, things changed. The others were imprisoned and I was taken to the infirmary. While Tarkin enhanced my chip, the others made an escape with Omega.” He could still remember the shock he felt when she actually shot his rifle from his hands. He’d truly underestimated the girl. “After that, the Empire started recruiting actual civilians for their army. I was assigned my own squad. Our first mission they sent us to track down Gerrera.”

“Your own squad?” So he had been in command?

Crosshair nodded. “A bunch of civilians who thought they were fighting the right fight. We tracked down Gerrera and moved in to apprehend them. But by the time we got there, he was gone. All we found was another group of refugees.” As much as it pained him to do it, he released you and stepped away. “Doll…I…I’m so sorry to tell you this.”

Your bottom lip began to tremble as he continued to talk. How many times had you told him that you wouldn’t judge him? That he wasn’t a horrible man? All you wanted now was for him to stop talking. The absolute fear taking you over right now was on the verge of making you sick. “C-Crosshair?” Tears began to streak down your face. Please don’t say it. Please.

“I…I killed them all. Even the children.” The cry you let out as you collapsed in shock to the ground would haunt him for the rest of his life. He stepped towards you but stopped. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?

“Why?” It came out in a choked sob.

This is what he’d been afraid of. “Because they wouldn’t tell us where he’d gone. Doll, I need you to understand that I didn’t want to do it. “

“I…I know.” You did. You truly did. But it still… “Please. I need a minute.”

He watched you stand up and walk inside before he could even answer. “Doll, I’m sorry.” Crosshair felt something roll down his cheek. He refused to touch it.

The sniper already knew what it was.

-*-

You rushed towards… somewhere. Anywhere! It was like your feet couldn’t move fast enough!

“Doll?” Echo stopped in the middle of the main room, surprised to see you rushing through.

With zero hesitation, you rushed across the room and buried your face into the clone's chest. “Echo.” You couldn’t help it. You needed someone right now.

Echo had not expected that! The way you had choked out his name had made it clear you needed someone though. He did hold his arms up in shock however. “What’s going on? Where’s Crosshair?”

“Echo?” Howzer looked up from the terminal he was at. “Oh no.” He walked over to the two of you. “Doll? Did the two of you talk?” You nodded against Echos chest. “He told you about what happened while he was under the chip?” Another nod. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shrugged. “Come on.” He motioned towards the table you’d sat up earlier.

“I’m gonna go check on Crosshair.” Echo carefully ran a protective hand over your hair for a moment. “Is that okay?” You nodded against his chest as another sob left you. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” After another moment, he felt you pull away. Echo took a step back and allowed Howzer to step into his place.

Howzer pulled you close and rubbed your arm gently. “Come on, burc’ya.”

-*-

“Crosshair.” Echo stood a few feet behind the sniper. “What did you tell her?”

Crosshair sat on the edge of the platform staring out at the clouds around them. “Everything I could.”

Echo took a deep breath before walking over to the edge as well. It took him a moment to sit down but when he did, he let his leg dangle over the edge. “What does that mean? What exactly did you tell her?”

“About the refugees on Onderon.” He didn’t look at his vod.

“The ones we let go?” Why would you be upset about that?

The sniper shuttered a breath. “No. The ones I killed in cold blood.”

Echo blinked a few times. “All of them?” No. He couldn’t have.

“All of them. The men, women, and ….children.” Everytime he said it or thought about it, it made him sick. He was a monster. His sad brown eyes slid down and looked at the long drop below him. You were inside crying because of him. He’d destroyed your perception of him. Even worse, he hurt you. It would be so easy to just…fall.

Oh Kriff. That…that was worse than he expected. Echo puffed his cheeks and let out a long whistle. “Well that…yeah that’s…a lot.” Oh man. There might not be any coming back from that.

“Did I make the mistake of telling her?” He’d wanted to be honest with you for so long. But this…was it truly worth revealing who he really was to you?

This was the most vulnerable Echo had ever seen the sniper. He’d always held this strong and confident air. Being imprisoned had truly changed him. You had truly changed him. “Depends. How much do you care about her?”

Crosshair took a long breath as he thought about your smile, your laugh, the way you always seemed to know he needed you and the way you never judged him. “More than I realized.”

“Then I think you know the answer.”

-*-

“All of you?” You looked at Cody and Howzer. Across the room Rex was speaking to someone at the holotable. A conversation that you couldn’t hear.

Howzer nodded solemnly while crossing his arms. “Yeah.” He sighed. “So many of us had to sit back in our own minds and watch our bodies attack civilians. Take over planets we’d previously rescued and imprison those we’d liberated. His amber eyes turned towards Rex. “Almost all of us.”

You followed his gaze. “He didn’t? Was his chip removed before it happened?”

Cody shook his head. “He fought it. The activation. Fought it long enough to give his Jedi a chance.” Well…kind of Jedi. It was a weird thing that he honestly didn’t want to dive into. “She used that chance to isolate him and remove his chip.”

“But how did he fight it?” You watched the blonde walk across the room to a different terminal.

“He had a warning.” Echo’s voice from behind you made you jump slightly. “Sorry for spooking ya.” He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder before stepping around the crate and sitting next to you. “You okay?” He asked softly, reaching up and brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Kind of. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Understand it all.” You let out a sad sigh. “Is he…okay?”

Echo took a moment before nodding. “He will be.”

Well that was something, right? “What did you mean that he had a warning? Rex, that is.”

“Fives, my twin.” Echo pulled out his datapad and pulled up a holo of him, Rex, Cody and Fives from Rishi, his favorite picture. He passed the device to you.

Wow, Fives and him looked so much alike. Yes, clones all looked alike. But the sets of twins, you really understood now why they were called that. Tech and Crosshair looked alike, especially in the eyes, and now you could see how Echo and Fives did as well. It was the smile. They shared the same smile. If you tried to explain this to anyone who didn’t really know the clones then they’d think you were crazy. But something told you that Chai and Stitches would understand. A little chuckle left you as your eyes slid to Cody. “Weird seeing you without a beard.” You joked softly.

Cody shrugged. “Gotta admit, it grew on me.” A long groan came from Howzer. The Marshal Commander couldn’t help but smile. Obi-wan would have been proud of the joke.

“That was so bad.” You shook your head with a slight smile. In a way it felt wrong to smile while talking about something so dark. But it helped the pain in your heart subside a little. Taking a breath, you looked back at Echo. “How did he find out?”

“Well…”

-*-

“Crosshair?” You stood in the doorway of the landing pad once more. The sun was now beginning to set. You felt bad that you’d left him out here this long. But you’d needed time to wrap your head around what he’d told you and what the others had said as well.

“Fives had learned about the chip after one of our brothers', Tup’s, chips malfunctioned and activated early. Tup killed his Jedi General. Fives thought something was off about the situation. So he started investigating things. Long story short, he figured out Order 66 and that Palpatine was behind it. Tried to warn Rex and our General. But Palpatine had him neutralized.” Echo stared at Rex. “Rex filed a complaint revealing what Fives told him. When the order came through, Rex was able to resist it. I think that was because of what my twin told him. Ahsoka helped remove his chip. Ever since then, Rex has been helping other clones remove theirs.”

One of the clones had known prior to Order 66 happening and had tried to warn everyone. But no one believed him. So much sadness, pain, and death was caused because no one believed that soldier. You could see it in the eyes of every clone you passed here that they all carried the weight of their actions under the chips deep within them. It seemed it had been threaded into their entire being like their own DNA was. It would take a long time for them to recover from those horrors. You stared at Crosshair as he looked over his shoulder at you. But what if… what if some didn’t recover at all? How many would be driven to insanity…or worse if they couldn’t recover.

Would he be one of them?

The thought practically destroyed you to think about. His eyes met with yours and you realized that your legs couldn’t move. You thought you could do this. You thought you could handle talking to him more and learning why Saw Garrera had affected him so harshly. But looking into those brown eyes that held so much sadness and guilt, killed you. With a soft gasp, you turned around and buried your face into your hands. You weren’t strong enough to do this. You’d failed him.

“Doll” Crosshair spoke carefully as he stood from the edge of the landing pad. His steps to you were careful, like he was approaching a scared mouse. The sniper worried that one wrong step would have you fleeing back inside.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. Your brain screamed at you to run away. To protect yourself from even more sadness. But your heart reminded you of why you were feeling this way. You had asked to know what he’d gone through. Why he thought so little of himself. This was your chance. “I…I don’t think I can look at you yet.”

Crosshair stopped just a few feet from you. “I see.” He shouldn’t have been surprised that you feared him now. Maybe even hated him. He’d revealed the horrors that he’d done.

“B-but I want to know the rest.” You reached your hand out behind you.

Crosshair took it instantly. “Doll, you don’t have to.” He looked down at your trembling hand.

You shook your head quickly. “I want to, Crosshair. Please. Tell me it all.” A squeeze was passed to his hand from yours.

“I understand.” Not really. Why? Why would you want to continue putting yourself through this pain? Why would you want to keep hurting yourself listening to what he’d been through? You didn’t deserve this. He was hurting you by telling you.

What kind of man was he?

“Then please, don’t hide any of it?” You asked softly while slowly backing towards him. It only took a few steps for you to meet his body. With a gentle tug, you pulled his hand around you so it would hold your waist. His other hand followed suit.

Crosshair didn’t hesitate to hold you close to him. His hands slid from your waist to your stomach and overlapped. He buried his face into your neck, closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. You didn’t smell like you usually did. Like the inn, your perfume, your shampoo or even your bed. No, you smelled like dirt, caf and clone. He hated it. All he wanted at this moment was to get you home but he knew that if he didnt take this chance to fully open up to you. That he never would.

-*-

The two of you stood there for another hour as Crosshair told you about the next missions he went on. He explained how he’d hunted his brothers and sister down mercilessly. Following them everywhere he could in hopes of getting rid of them and bringing Omega back to the Empire. He explained how he’d followed them to the shipyard where they were having their chips removed and the resulting incident that gave him his burn scar.

It was also what began his freedom from their hold.

“My chip was damaged after that. So I had it removed. As far as the Empire was concerned, I was so fiercely loyal to them that the chip wouldn’t be needed anymore anyway. “ He couldn’t help but actually chuckle at that. “They underestimated the mental strength of a clone though. It didn’t happen right away. But as the months ticked by I became stronger than the programming. The removal of my chip had disillusioned me to what side the Empire was really on. The more missions I went on and the more orders I was given, the more my mind started to clear.”

However, that realization didn’t come soon enough and he was sent to Ryloth. This was how he’d met Howzer and framed Cham Sandulla for the attempted assassination of Senator Taa. Crosshair explained how he’d been the one to order Howzer to be arrested as well as the men that had sided with the teal clone. The whole time he was already fighting himself to take back control.

“Syndulla’s daughter escaped.” Thankfully. “ Last I heard she was part of the rebellion.”

At least one child he hadn’t killed.

Kamino came next, he explained. Hunter had been captured and brought back to Tipoca to be tortured. Unsurprisingly the others had also returned to save him. It was part of the perfect trap. The Batch had always been loyal to each other. It was both their strength and their weakness. Crosshair explained how he’d used Hunters com to lure the rest of the batch to the city. How he’d finally revealed how he felt betrayed by them as well as disposing of his current squad when they didn’t lower their weapons. After being knocked unconscious by his vod, he’d awoken to a destroyed Tipoca.

Their home was gone.

He’d expected them to turn their back on him once more and leave him there. But the kid, Omega, she wouldn’t let them. Wouldn’t let him stay behind. They worked together to escape the ruins before the city completely sank and at the end, when Omega almost lost her closest friend, Crosshair stepped up and saved him.

“But I could see it in their eyes, they still didn’t trust me.”

He didn’t blame them either.

“I made a stupid decision after that. When they left, I stayed and waited for the Empire.”

Thirty two rotations. He’d waited thirty two rotations for the Empire to come back. That’s when his mind had truly begun to fight the programming.

His first mission back had been with Cody.“It was strange seeing him without his orange paint. It was yet another realization that what we were doing couldn’t be right. Commander Cody. The most loyal clone you could find. Had dimmed his colors.” The mission had gone… successfully. As successful as a mission that ended with the body of the offender being displayed in the town center as a ‘warning’.

When Cody went AWOL after asking Crosshair if what they were doing really was the right thing, it flipped a switch in his mind. When Marshall Commander Cody, the clone paired with Obi-Wan Kenobi, went AWOL something was wrong.

It all came to a head on Barton IV.

“Mayday” He almost whispered while burying his face into your hair. Crosshair didn’t like thinking about Mayday.

You turned then and buried your face in his chest. You already knew about Mayday. But you wanted to hear it all from his point of view. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him gently, telling him to continue.

Still, you were unable to look at him.

“When I met Mayday it was just him. The rest of his squad had been killed by anything and everything on Barton IV. Bandits, ice Vultures, and ice wyrms. I don’t know exactly how long Mayday had been on his own at that point. But it had been long enough for him to be pissed off at the Empire.” Crosshair thought about the small shrine Mayday had set up for his fallen men. It was a gruesome reminder of the fate of a clone. Crosshair went on to explain how the depot had been attacked by intruders who’d stolen the precious cargo the Empire wanted.“Mayday and I were the lucky two clones chosen to hunt them down and bring back the cargo. Found them quick enough as well as the cargo.”The cargo that had been fucking infuriating to see. “During the takedown of the bandits an avalanche was triggered. Mayday protected me and was injured in the process.” Crosshair let a long sigh leave him as he squeezed his eyes closed. “It took us days to get back to the depot. Mayday was barely hanging on. By the time we made it back to the depot, he was near death. Lieutenant Nolan spent the time that could have been used to help Mayday to instead reprimand us for losing their precious stormtrooper armor.” Crosshair tightened his hold on you.

“He died in my arms.”

You let out a shuddered breath. The file in Mayday had been so painfully different. All it had said was that he was killed in an attack by intruders.

“I lost it. I killed Nolan. Finally broken free of my programming. I collapsed and woke up in prison. Strapped to a table.”

So that had been it. That had been what he’d gone through. There was still the topic of Saw Garrera. But at this point you were so emotionally drained that you finally couldn’t focus anymore. “I’m so sorry.” You spoke so softly that you weren’t sure he’d even heard you. “I still want to hear the rest but…I think…I think I need a break.” You were so tired. So so tired.

“I understand.” Crosshair released you to step back and allow you to walk away. But you didn’t release him, making him feel confused.

“Please.” You choked out. “Can we please go to bed.”

‘We’? You wanted him to go with you? “We?”

You didn’t speak. Instead only nodding against him. Tears were once again burning your eyes and you knew you couldn’t let him see you like this. It wouldn’t be fair to him. You’d told him you’d listen and still care for him. Crying felt like you were going back on that.

Crosshair wrapped his arms around you once more and held you as he tried to understand why you still wanted to be near him. To go to bed with him and share your warmth. He was a murderer. He’d killed innocent people.

Innocent children.

He’d helped with the subjugation of communities all in the name of the Empire. People who didn’t give two fucks about him and his brothers.

“Okay.” Tomorrow when your head was clear and you’d had time to think and understand everything would most likely be when you changed your mind about him. “Let’s head back to the room.” The sniper moved to guide you back to your waiting cots, but found resistance. “Doll?” He asked gently.

“I want to go back to Pabu. To a warm bed. Our warm bed.” You didn’t want to be here anymore. In this cold place that seemed to only house sadness. Yes, there had been some laughter with Cody and the others inside. But it felt fake. Like a bad patch over a hole in the wall. Get it wet just a little and it would break away, revealing the hole. They were all sad and carrying their own baggage.

‘Our warm bed.’ Why did that make him happy to hear? Now wasn’t the time to feel that way. He’d destroyed your perception of him. Gone was the misunderstood man you thought he was and now in his place stood a monster.

Why would you want to share your warm bed with him?

Why would you want him to go back to the inn with you?

Why?

“Okay.” He spoke again. “I’ll talk to Rex.”

-*-

It was strange. A few days ago you were sitting in this exact seat heading to Crosshair to help him. Your mind filled with worry about him. Worry about what you’d find when the ship landed. Now?

Now you were heading home with a confused heart. Deep down you knew you still cared about him. You still…loved him.

But how? How could you really focus on your love for him when he’d done such terrible things?

Echo stood in the doorway of the cockpit staring at the two of you. He’d made the decision to let Crosshair pilot home instead of doing it himself. It would allow the two of you to be together, even if it was in silence.

Three hours in total silence wasn’t as odd as someone would think. Not when Crosshair was involved. The sniper could easily go days without speaking. But you? It was so odd to see you so silent. You didn’t even look at Crosshair. It was worrying. Echo let out a sigh before turning to head out of the cockpit.

“Tell me the rest about Saw Garrera?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the hum of the ship.

Crosshair, who was staring straight out of the windshield, looked at you slowly. You were sitting with your knees pulled up to your chin and your eyes fixed out at the swirling blue of the hyperspace jump. “Doll, you don’t ….”

“I do. I want to know why you’re so desperate to find him even after being freed from your chip.” You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Even when the two of you went inside to ask Rex to take you back to Pabu, you didn’t look at him. You tried, you did. But the moment you even looked at his chest you found your stomach beginning to twist. You couldn’t do it, you just couldn’t.

As much as you just wanted to go to sleep and dream that you hadn’t in fact learned everything you’d learned today, you knew it had needed to happen at some point. There had been no denying it when you saw him in his room a few days ago.

You loved him. You loved Crosshair.

So you knew you needed to know everything about him and that there was a strong chance that what he told you would be horrible. But never had you expected it to be this. Did it diminish how you felt about him?

No.

Deep down you knew it didn’t. But right now, in this moment, you found it so unbelievably hard to look at him and not see a monster. A man forced to kill children. Innocent children. Just the thought made your chest hurt again and you fought back the tears trying to leave you.

It wasn’t his fault. That voice in your head told you.

You knew it wasn’t. It was the Kaminoans for putting that chip in his head. It was the Empire’s fault for activating that chip. It was Saw Garrera’s fault for leaving those refugees behind. Most importantly though.

It wasn’t his fault.

Echo looked back at Crosshair. “I can do that if you want.” He mouthed to his vod.

Crosshair shook his head though before motioning for Echo to leave the room. Only once the door shut did Crosshair finally walk over to you. He knelt on the cold durasteel and took your hand in his.

“Even after I was imprisoned, he continued to be a thorn in the Empire’s and the Rebellion's side.”

Taglist:

@rndmpeep @sarahskywalker-amadala @queenariesofnarnia @idoubleswearimawriter @bambambunny @ravenclawbitch426 @jupitersaturnapollo @mzjakao @heylosers06 @dangraccoon @impala1967666 @andrakass2 @ducks118 @motte-the-goblin @rintheemolion @merkitty49 @jediknightjana @onyxtides @moon-wrecked @mssbridgerton @griffedeloup @masterjedilenawrites

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 11

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: hungover reader, i think thats it

Summary: 1 day after your intense dinner and "after party" with Joel, your head is fogged. you arent sure where to go or what to do from here. (1400k+)

a/n: hey im back. probs gonna end this soon bc tbh, idk where its going. leave feedback but be nice :P. ps didnt proof, prob lots of errors, oops. pps sad soppy soft joel inbound.

Chapter 10 - Masterlist - Chapter 12

You wake up and your head is pounding. Last nights clothes still littering the floor, and the sun barely creeping in your window. You stumble into the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing the bottle of Advil. Popping the cap off and turning the sink on simultaneously, you throw 2 into your mouth and stick your face under the faucet, taking in 2 giant gulps of water. You walk back into your room, sighing at the sight. Yesterdays memories flooding in, playing in your brain like a movie you cant turn off. You pick up your ripped shirt and toss it in the trashcan, and your jeans in the hamper. 

The coffee pot is dripping and the aroma fills your house. You get your favorite mug out of the cabinet and pour yourself a cup, leaving room for a splash of creamer. You plop into the same spot as usual on your couch, not even turning the TV on. You begin to sequence every event of yesterday, nitpicking every singular detail. Instead of your usual tears, you begin to feel anger. You’re mad at how you were spoken to, how you were treated, how you were left. You decide that this time, you arent extending the olive branch. One too many times have you tried to make up for actions that aren’t your responsibility. 

After 4 hours of deep cleaning, you grab the 3 baskets of clean laundry from the laundry room and haul them to your couch. You begin folding everything you’ve let pile up since Penny was here. You miss her. You go to reach for your phone, and it isn't there. You remember Joel grabbing it from you, dropping it on your bedroom floor. You head to your room, and pick it up off the floor. It’s dead. Of fucking course. You let out the 50th sigh of today and grab the charger. You turn the TV on and flip to How I Met Your Mother, another comfort show of yours. While you wait for your phone to turn on, you fold and hang fold and hang. A never ending cycle it seems. After the first basket, your phone comes back on and you dive for it, checking to see if you have any missed calls or texts from Joel. There isn’t a single one. 

You call Penny, detailing your Thanksgiving with the Millers. 

“And then he left. He just fucking left.” You say, peering out your window towards Joels. Hoping for any sign of life.

“What the fuck do you mean he ‘left’?!” Penny says, loud enough that you have to pull the phone away from your ear. 

“He left. His eyes looked different, but he just walked out. I didn’t chase him and he didn’t come back. AND he has a fucking girlfriend. I truly don’t-” Penny interjects. 

“A fucking girlfriend?!?! Im actually going to kill this man.” 

You let out a sigh. “I just don’t know what to do Pen. The sex was so fucking good. I loved being dominated like that but the circumstances surrounding it fucking blow. I refuse to be the first to speak so I guess parent-teacher conferences will just have to be awkward from now on.” 

“Honestly, its his loss Yellow. I wish I could do something or help.” Penny says, disgruntled. 

“I know Pen, but just talking to you about it helps.” you say calmly. Soaking in her vibes through the phone. 

Your phone beeps. 

“So, Im thinking about-” 

“Hold on Pen” you say, switching her to speaker and checking your texts. 

“Holding!” she says cheerfully. 

“Its Joel.” you say. 

“What?” Penny says, every ounce of cheerfulness leaving her voice, a sort of rage fillingit instead. 

You didn’t mean to say it outloud but you did. 

“Well what the hell did he say?!”

“I refuse to look. He can kiss my ass.” You retort, both of you erupting in laughter. 

A couple more hours go by on the phone with Penny. You learn that her time in Ireland may be cut short due to her moms health. It’s a weird feeling for you. You want Penny to be happy but you also miss her so much. 

“Okay Pen. I’ve gotta make some dinner and get this laundry put in drawers instead of living in a basket.” 

“I miss you yellow. I’ll see you soon, okay? Let me know if anything happens with Joel.” she responds. 

You had completely forgotten Joel texted you. You’re nauseous. 

“I will. Love ya!” 

“Love ya!” 

The call disconnects. You sigh, dragging the 3 laundry baskets to your room. You sit on your bed, and look out the window. Joel’s curtains in the same place they have been, neatly on the windowsill. 

You follow through on your word, and you don’t even read Joels text. You put your laundry away and scrounge up some dinner. You eat leftover pasta and garlic knots and settle in for the night, cozying up under a blanket on your very loved couch. 

You wake up to a knocking on your door. It’s dark so you’re weary. Looking out the peephole, you see Joel. He’s in jeans and a flannel but he looks disheveled. His normally bright eyes are now withdrawn and dull, his arms sitting heavily at his sides, holding flowers. You’re hesitant to open the door. Partially because nothing good comes from late nights with him, and partially because you have no desire to speak to him. He drained you emotionally, and made you feel small. 

“What do you want, Joel?” you say through the door, pulling yourself away from the peephole. 

“P-please open it. I just wanna t-t-talk to ya.” His voice sweet as molasses, but cracking.

“Joel, realistically I have nothing to say.” You take a deep breath, struggling to keep your voice from shaking. “We are not good for each other, in any capacity. I think we both made that clear to each other over the last few weeks.” 

A tear falls slowly from his right eye. 

“Yellow. P-p-please.” He blubbers through a few more tears. 

You sigh and open the door, leaving the storm door shut.

His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is a wreck, and his posture is depressing. 

“Joel-”

“Please just let me talk, and then I’ll go. I promise.” he says. You nod, signaling him to go ahead. 

“Im so sorry. For everything. Im sorry for how I spoke to you, for how I let Celeste speak to you, for not sticking up for you-” he takes a deep breath in, “Most of all, Im sorry for not being more clear with my intentions from day one.” his head drops. 

"From the moment I saw you, everything changed. I can still remember the first time our eyes met—it was like the world paused for a second. I didn’t know you yet, but something about you felt familiar, like I had been waiting for you without even realizing it.” he pauses, sniffling. 

“There was this quiet kind of magic in the way you moved, in the way your smile lit up the room. I didn’t know it then, but I was already falling. It’s like my heart recognized you before my mind did, and it just couldn’t let go. I tried to ignore it, tried to convince myself it was just a fleeting moment, a passing attraction. But the more I saw you, the more I couldn’t escape it.” 

And you say nothing. Because he’s lowkey been a dick from day one, so you’re confused. 

“Joel, respectfully, you were an ass to me the day we met. You don’t treat someone you care about this much, like that.” You say blankly. 

“I was scared. After Sarah’s mom cheated on me, I had no interest in finding someone. As far as I was concerned, it was just her and I. No one else mattered, and I didn’t mind it.” 

“That still isn’t a reason to treat me the way you did. Nothing about what we did was normal. Fun? Sure. Normal? Not really.”

He sighs. “I know, and I’m sorry. I want to fix it. I want to do right by you.” he says, his puppy dog eyes looking up at you. 

“Joel I don’t-” he interrupts.

“You dont have to give me an answer tonight, or hell even this week. But I like you, and I want to give you the world. And I think if we could start over, I could do that. I could be better, for you.” He says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes for the first time in weeks 

You nod your head. “I’ll let you know.” you say, opening the storm door. “Thanks for popping by, and for apologizing. I appreciate it.” 

He hands you the flowers with a nod, and turns back toward his house, borderline disappearing in the haze.

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 26)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris has yet another surprise for you, and a secret is revealed

warnings: feyre slander, slightly nsfw towards the end

word count: 5.7k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is a filler chapter, sorry if it's boring! wedding is coming up next chapter i think. also so sorry the taglist got messed up somewhere halfway through teh fic and it wasn't actually tagging people so if you haven't been tagged like 15 chapters i fixed it now im so sorry!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 /

read on ao3

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A throbbing headache greeted you as you peeled your eyes open, the bright rays of sunshine coming in through the window directly onto your face. You groaned, mouth dry as sand. Regret over those last few drinks washed over you as you rolled over, body shaky as you pushed yourself up.

“Morning!” Gwyn’s voice sounded through your blurry vision – her normally soft tone was ear-splitting due to your hangover.

“Ugh, please tone down your mouth noises.” You grumbled, rubbing your temples and yawning.

The redhead rolled her eyes, handing you a tray. “That’s what you get for drinking so much. A servant brought us a tray each for breakfast. Drink water and the tonic, you’ll feel better.”

You sighed, trying to fight off the hangover shakes as you reached for the tray. On the golden platter was a glass of water, a vial of liquid meant to ease how shitty you felt, and a plate with toast, eggs, fruit, and thick slices of bacon. The food smelled heavenly, but your stomach churned in protest. So you quickly downed the tonic before slowly sipping water, your throat no longer feeling like a desert.

Nesta had joined Gwyn on the bed in the far corner in an effort to get Emerie to sit up. The Illyrian female protested, eyes squeezed shut as she cursed the sun for being so bright. Despite your state, you snorted. At least you were better off than Emerie. 

“Come on,” Nesta insisted. “You have to at least have a sip of water.”

Emerie shook her head vehemently, then cursed, dizzied. “No. I’m gonna die if I move another inch.”

Gwyn reached down to Emerie’s tray and grabbed the glass of water, bringing it up to her lips. “Here, that way you won’t have to move.” The hungover female protested, but Gwyn tilted the glass up anyways, forcing the water into her mouth. She sputtered for a second, but eventually swallowed some of the cold liquid.

With Gwyn now settled coaxing water into Emerie, Nesta headed towards your bed, smirking. “Morning, sunshine.” She said coolly. Her hair was loose and messy around her shoulders, eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep. But she still looked incredible, despite having drank more than you.

“Not fair.” You complained, rubbing your dry eyes again and scowling at your mate. “I drank half as much as you and you seem perfectly fine.”

Nesta plopped down beside you, shrugging. “Perk of drinking myself half to death for a few months, I guess.” She joked, then motioned to your bacon. “Are you going to eat that?”

“Go for it.” You shook your head. “I can’t imagine eating anything right now.”

A wider smirk came over Nesta’s face as she popped the bacon into her mouth, blue-grey eyes going up and down your body. “I can.”

You blushed, smacking her with your pillow. “What has gotten into you?” You hissed playfully so that Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t hear. Your body had responded to her words instantly, heating up even more and making you squirm. 

She shrugged, taking the second piece of bacon off your plate as well. “I’m just glad I can finally show appreciation for my mate without worrying about someone hacking my head off for it.”

“Fair enough.”

The four of you picked away at your breakfasts in silence, much to you and Emerie’s relief. The tonic began to work after twenty minutes, your headache slowly easing up and the fog around your brain clearing. Eventually, Eris and Azriel came through the doors, stifling their laughs at how hungover or sleep deprived you all were. After saying goodbye to your friends, Emerie grumbled something about the likelihood of throwing up all over Azriel as she took his hand, preparing to winnow. Gwyn’s cheeks flushed slightly as she took Azriel’s other hand, the spymaster’s shadows curling around her slender wrist. You raised an eyebrow at her, but she blushed harder and refused to meet your gaze.

After Azriel, Gwyn, and Emerie left, Nesta left for the bathing chambers to freshen up while you flopped back down into the bed, pulling the sheets over your head. “I’m staying here all day,” You declared. “Nobody wake me.”

You heard Eris chuckle, feeling the bed shift as he sat down beside you. He yanked the sheets down, and you whined in protest. “Eris!” You cried out. “Please, I’m so hungover. I just want to rot in this bed all day.”

“Too bad,” Eris said with a delighted grin on his face. “Because I have another surprise for you.”

You groaned, turning onto your stomach and burying your face into the pillow. “I cannot handle another surprise right now.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to see this. Now get out of bed.”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish. Now get up.”

When you didn’t move, strong hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into the air with surprising strength and flinging you over the High Lord’s shoulder. You yelped, the blood rushing to your head as Eris gripped the back of your thighs, holding you steady as he walked.

“Put. Me. Down. Right. Now.” You hissed through gritted teeth, stomach churning as the world swayed around you.

“Absolutely not.” Eris quipped, squeezing your legs once and he strode down the hallway. “Besides, you’re too hungover to use any of those sneaky moves the shadowsinger taught you. So suck it up, do not vomit on me, and thank me later for dragging you out of bed.”

You groaned as Eris carried you up a winding staircase with ease, your upper body swaying across his back. “Where are you even taking me?” You asked, defeated.

“Your surprise is out on the private balcony.” 

“What is the surprise?”

Eris snorted. “Mother above, you and Nesta are the worst when it comes to surprises, you know that? Nosy creatures.”

“You could have at least given me time to prepare.” You grumbled, realising you were still in your pyjamas.

“So you’d rather I have told you I had a surprise in advance and then let you stew over it for a whole day, leaving you in limbo before finally revealing it?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he had a point. You didn’t answer, and Eris laughed victoriously. “Thought so.” He said smugly.

Finally, after climbing up a mountain’s worth of staircases, Eris finally set you down. You wobbled, legs unsteady and clinging to the High Lord for balance as you adjusted to being upright again. A large wooden door stood in front of you, elegant whirling carvings along the edges. You shivered at the bone chilling cold of the stairwell, and Eris was quick to drape his warm cloak over your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You said before shooting him a glare. “But if you throw me over your shoulder like that again, I will nail your balls to the wall.”

Pure predatory smirk overcame Eris’s face as he met your gaze evenly. “Oh, please. We both know you enjoyed being tossed around.”

Your cheeks burned, unable to deny that his words rang partially true. You slapped his arm, and hissed at him, “This surprise better be worth it.”

“Oh, I know it is. Once again, feel free to use your spare time to brainstorm all the ways you can thank me later.” Eris simply winked, turning the knob and pushing the door open. You squinted, eyes taking a second to adjust to the bright morning sunlight that glared at you.

Stepping through the doorway onto the breezy balcony, your eyes began to focus. A tall, male figure stood a few feet away, the rays of the sun shining behind him and casting him in an otherworldly glow. Strands of red hair blew in the breeze, the light reflecting off of a familiar golden eye.

“Lucien…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as tears began to pool in your eyes at the sight of your friend coming into view. His golden skin shone in the light of Autumn, his red hair half tied back, revealing his chiselled, handsome face. It was filled with a mix of emotions as he stared back at you – awe, happiness, regret, all at once.

“Hey there, (Y/N).” Lucien said softly, lips pulling up in a smile.

All nausea and dizziness vanished as you surged forward, running towards your old friend. Your heart raced with excitement as you leapt into his outstretched arms, burying your face in his shoulder. There was no hope at stopping the sobs that choked up your throat, so you let them out. Lucien’s strong arms wrapped around you, holding you up as you clung onto his tall form.

Time was askew as you hugged him. It could have been hours or seconds for all you knew. You hadn’t seen Lucien since those few minutes after you escaped Rhys’s prison, all those weeks ago. 

Eventually, Lucien gently set you down. You turned around to ask Eris how he had found and gotten his brother here so quickly, but your mate had slipped away, leaving you alone with Lucien. When you turned back to your friend, his remaining eye simmered with emotion. “I’ve missed you.” He said, squeezing your hands in his own.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You said through tears. “I’m so sorry, Lucien.”

He frowned. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“For everything,” You gulped. “For everything you’ve been through, for how you’ve been treated. For not trying to find you sooner–”

Lucien interrupted you sternly. “No. Do not say that. None of this is your fault. You’re safe, that’s all that matters. I’m sorry, too.”

“What do you possibly have to be sorry for?” You threw his words back at him playfully, despite the sadness still lacing your voice.

Lucien squeezed your hands again, regret crossing his kind face. “For not fighting harder for you.”

Your heart cracked a bit at his broken voice. Lucien was the best male you had ever known, always putting others above himself no matter the personal cost. “You showed up with armies from the Spring Court to get me back. I’d hardly call that not fighting for me.”

“I meant before that. Feyre and Rhys told me that you were enjoying Velaris and your new missions as a spy, which was why you hadn’t come to visit me. They even went so far as to bring me a scarf claiming it was from you. I simply believed them, and didn’t question it. It wasn’t until Azriel found me and told me the truth about your situation that I realised what was going on.” 

“Lucien–” You tried to speak, to reassure him that he was not at fault here, but your friend cut you off sharply.

“No, it is not okay.” He said sternly. “I should have known better. I had never trusted Rhysand, but decided to take his word for it anyways. I was living in the human lands minding my own business while you were being tortured by that scumbag. And I will carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. I failed you, (Y/N). And I am deeply sorry.”

You smiled sadly. “Listen to me. You did not lock me up. You did not deceive people. You did not have anything to do with what happened to me. That was Rhys and Feyre. They failed me, not you. And I made it out, that’s all that matters. You risked your life going back to Tamlin and raising the armies for me. If you really wish to seek penance for your guilt, consider that your debt paid.”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they put you through that.”

“I can.” You snorted, leading him over to the soft couch by the marble railing, overlooking the vast forest below. 

“With Rhys, yes I agree.” Lucien said as he settled down next to you. “But Feyre… the girl I knew who went under the mountain would not have ripped open a court of innocent people for petty reasons. Before Rhys took her away, she gave her own jewels to a poor citizen who did not have enough money to pay the Tithe. It seemed that every time she went away to the Night Court with him, pieces of her slowly chipped away and were replaced with new ones that Rhys created. She was so young, so vulnerable, and now she’s completely under his spell. The fact she could let any of this happen to you disgusts me, and I am ashamed that she manipulated me into believing she was a better friend to me than I ever was to her.”

The autumn breeze soothed your warm face, the fresh air clearing your foggy mind as you drank in the beauty of the view. Lucien was right – the Feyre you had heard about in the stories of Under the Mountain was not the Feyre you had met. As much as you resented her, you couldn’t help but spare her a shred of pity. “She chose her path,” You said steadily. “Just as I have chosen mine.”

Lucien fiddled with the rings on his fingers, playfully elbowing your ribs. “Your path as High Lady and my awful brother’s wife, you mean.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him back. “He’s not so bad.”

Lucien laughed sharply, a beautiful sound you had missed dearly. “Ok, sure. Come talk to me in a few centuries when you’ve had enough of his bullshit and are debating throwing him off a cliff.”

“Eris seems so enamoured with me, I’m sure all I’d have to do would be to tell him to go fling himself off the cliff and he’d happily do so without question.”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

The two of you chuckled, just like old times. You adjusted Eris’s cloak, wrapping it tighter around your body. His scent filled your nostrils, filling you with content. “Lucien,” You said hesitantly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” The male replied with confidence.

You took a breath before speaking. “Eris is my mate. He has been extremely good to me throughout all this, but you’ve known him and this court almost your whole life. What am I truly getting into by marrying him?”

Lucien was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his answer. Regardless, you knew nothing he could say would change your mind. You wanted to marry Eris, and you knew he would look out for you. But marriage and the workings of Autumn? it was still unknown territory for you. 

“Eris has always been a puzzle,” Lucien said slowly. “For as a long as I can remember, he’s been difficult to figure out. Everything he does is for a reason, and sometimes I can never figure it out. He switches personalities so fast it makes my head spin, and I could never tell what kind of male he truly was because of it. He was an excellent brother when Beron was not around, but the second he entered the room Eris became a different person.

“But it’s different with you. He’s different around you and Nesta, like he’s beginning to thaw. I think it will take a while for him to get used to not having to pretend to be Beron’s prodigy. But with time, he will soften up. Eris knows what he wants and will do anything to get it. He will protect you with unyielding loyalty, even if at times he may seem aloof. There will be times where you grow frustrated with him, and he may shut you out. But from what I’ve seen, I have no doubt that the three of you will be able to work things out. As for this court, give it time. The people can be frosty. Do not show weakness, for they will devour every ounce of exposed flesh like starved vultures. With the right leadership, I do believe it can change. But be patient, and unyielding.”

You mulled over Lucien’s words. He was right – it would be ridiculous to think everything would be smooth sailing from here. Being mates did not mean any complications in your dynamic would be immediately soothed over. It would take a long time for you to recover from and process everything that happened since you were sent to the House of Wind. Just as it would take a long time for Nesta to be comfortable with bathtubs and crackling fire. There would be challenges and disagreements, but at your core you knew it was nothing the three of you couldn’t manage.

“And how do you feel about us all together?” You asked. “Me, Nesta, and Eris, I mean.”

Lucien shrugged. “I see no issue with it. As long as the three of you are happy, that’s all that matters.”

“I wish the rest of this court felt that way.” You sighed. “They didn’t react well.”

He barked out a laugh. “No, I can’t imagine they did.”

You tilted your head back, letting the sun warm your face as you sighed. “So, when did you manage to sneak in here? I assume your banishment is lifted.”

“Yes, it is. Eris brought me here yesterday. I spent the day with my mother. Thank you, by the way, for what you did for her.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. You knew how much Lirilla loved Lucien, how much it pained your friend to be away from his mother for so long. She had a soft spot for him, as he was the least cruel out of all her sons. Every day you thanked the Mother that Lucien had not turned out like Beron.

In the distance, three dragons circled the air, sunning their wings in the rays of sunshine. Their gentle cries rumbled throughout the air like a song carried by the breeze. You snuck a glance at Lucien, whose eyes were fixed on the beasts circling the mountains in the distance. “Eris really did it.” He mumbled as Athariel spun upwards and around Zorzimril.

You whipped your head around. “You KNEW he had dragons?”

Lucien was awestruck as he continued observing the creatures. “Technically, yes. But I never believed him. When I was younger, Eris showed me 3 unusual rocks, claiming that they were dragon eggs. We played with them for hours, and I helped him build a nest to keep them warm. He swore me to secrecy, saying it was our own little game. He told me one day the eggs would hatch, and would grow into three big dragons. Then he, myself, and my mother could each climb on one and fly away from everything.” Lucien’s voice grew sombre, his eye darkening as he continued. “Then one day we found the rocks broken, and Eris told me the dragons had flown away after hatching. I was devastated, I had wanted to see one so badly. But he said they were gone, and I was to never breathe a word about them to anyone. I guess the slippery prick found them and raised them in secret on his own.”

“How did Eris keep dragons a secret from everyone?”

“Keeping secrets is one of his many talents. As I am sure you know very well since he hid the fact he knew that he was your mate.”

You snorted at the jibe, rolling your eyes. “Wow, so you really know everything then, don’t you?”

Lucien laughed, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. The image reminded you of a cat sunning itself in the window. “Unfortunately, yes.” He said. “Eris and my mother filled me in. Among other things.”

You frowned. “Among other things? What does that mean?”

Lucien’s expression was grave, and he turned to face you. His golden eye gleamed in the sunlight but was equally intense as his regular eye as he stared you down. “Promise me that what I’m about to say, you keep to yourself, Eris, my mother, and Nesta.” He said seriously.

Confused, you nodded. Lucien took a deep breath before continuing. “Beron was not my father, apparently.”

You blinked in surprise, but bit your tongue. Lucien had always looked slightly different than his brothers, but you had never really thought twice about it. “My mother had an affair with Helion of the Day Court,” Lucien admitted, his voice hollow as if he didn’t even believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “I’m his son, not Beron’s.”

Your jaw was slack. “Wow…” You muttered. “Does Helion know?”

Lucien shook his head. “No. But my mother has always been in love with him. It will take her a while to adjust to a reality without Beron hovering over her shoulder, to allow herself to love him openly. If that is what she desires, of course.”

“And what about you?” You asked your friend. “What do you want from all this? I mean… how does it feel?”

Lucien’s expression was distant, as if his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t hard to tell by the way his jaw tensed that he was thinking of his childhood with his father, remembering every cruel word and ruthless fist he endured. How maybe if things had been different, he could have been spared Beron’s suffering and been raised by Helion – a father who did not delight in torturing his sons. Lucien had a rough life, one that did not seem to be getting any easier. From being banished from Autumn Court to living in a state of uneasy limbo with his mate who seemingly wanted nothing to do with him, Lucien’s life was never truly stable. He was always bouncing from one place to another, never truly fitting in. 

You hoped that with his banishment lifted, Lucien would choose to come back to Autumn. After months of being separated from your best friend, you wanted nothing more than to have him back by your side.

“I’m not quite sure,” Lucien finally answered. “On the one hand, I am glad I am not actually Beron’s son. But Helion being my father changes very little. I was raised by Beron, and for better or for worse I am the way I am because I was a part of his family. In my blood, I am Autumn Court and always will be.”

“But Helion has no other children,” You pointed out carefully. “Which technically makes you the heir to the Day Court, whether you like it or not.”

He shook his head. “It is a power and title I do not want. I’ve never desired to be a Lord of anything, especially not one of an entire court.”

You smiled softly, leaning your head into his shoulder and sighing contently. “I know. That’s why you’re such a good male.”

Lucien wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you closer to him. “I will let my mother choose what to do about Helion.” He continued. “She may well want to forget the whole thing and leave the past behind. If that is her wish, I am content to go along with it. If she wants to rekindle a relationship with him, then she may tell him that I am his son, and we would go from there. Besides, not all of us are High Lord power hungry like you.”

You laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re going to make fun of me for becoming High Lady of your court for as long as we live, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” Lucien purred. “Someone has to keep you humble so that power doesn’t get to that pretty head of yours.”

“Careful,” You teased, grinning. “Or I’ll force you to scribe notes during all the council meetings for a decade.”

“Never mind, reinstate my banishment and bounty, please. I’d prefer that over being your note boy for your and your mates’ stuffy meetings.”

Your laughter echoed across the wind, just as Zorzimril let out a playful screech in the distance. For a few minutes, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, until your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked, “So… speaking of mates, has anything happened with Elain?”

The male sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. You felt a muscle in his neck twitch at the mention of her name, an instinctual reaction like the mere mention of her rang a bell inside him. “No,” He said stiffly. “And frankly, at this point I wish that she would just sever the bond if she wanted nothing to do with me. It’s agonising. And Feyre and Rhys keep her cloistered away, knowing it would be too hard for me to try and visit her after everything that’s happened. I want Elain to be happy, even if it’s not with me, but I truly don’t think she would be happy in the Night Court. I just… I just want her out of there. To give her a chance to choose her own life.”

“From what I’ve seen, she seems content to let her sister choose her life for her.” You kept your words delicate, not wanting to offend Lucien. As much as he was your friend, he was still a mated male – and now you understood that protectiveness he likely felt.

“I think the Archeron sisters need to be apart from each other.” Lucien said, stiffening but not snarling at your comment. “They’ve all been through a lot, and none of us will ever truly understand the history they have because we did not live it. Nesta needs this freedom here in Autumn to build a life for herself after everything was taken away from her. Feyre, for all her faults, needed to be loved in a way that was different from how her sisters loved her, and now she seems to have that. Elain… Elain has been coddled by both of them, from what I’ve heard. She needs to stand on her own two feet and figure out what she wants and how she can navigate this new life by herself.”

You picked at one of the threads of the cushion. “And you want to help Elain do that? Even if it means she severs the bond?”

He nodded. “Yes. I will not lie and say I would not be upset if she chose to do so, but she deserves the choice. We all do. Besides, isn’t Nesta planning on severing her bond with Cassian?”

“We don’t think there’s even a bond.” You admitted, stomach fluttering with nerves at the mention of Cassian’s name. The three of you still hadn’t figured out how you’d deal with that. “It’s a touchy subject. But we know he isn’t her mate.”

Lucien’s brows furrowed. “But Rhys said Cassian was her mate.”

“And you’re going to suddenly start taking his word now?”

“Point taken.” He corrected himself. 

“Something about the whole situation is just weird.” You muttered. “Maybe a link between them is some kind of punishment from the Cauldron. Azriel is investigating it secretly.”

Your friend raised an eyebrow. “He’s still in the Night Court? After everything he did to go against Rhys?”

“Yup. I think Rhys knows he’s too valuable to lose at the end of the day, which is why his head isn’t on the chopping block. Azriel is good at playing both sides I guess.”

That comfortable silence fell over you for another few minutes as you happily existed in each other’s company. You huddled into Lucien’s warmth, begrudgingly knowing Eris was right and this had been worth getting violently dragged out of bed.

Later, you would think of ways to thank him.

An idea formed in your head as you thought of your mate. You propped yourself up, turning to face your friend. “Lucien?” You asked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Sure.”

You took a deep breath, wringing your hands together before blurting out, “Would you walk me down the aisle at the wedding?”

Lucien blinked in surprise, and then a grin spread across his face. “Really?”

You smiled. “Yes. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have giving me away.”

“Giving you away? I thought you wanted to smash all archaic male-oriented traditions in this court.”

“Don’t be an ass.” You smacked his arm playfully. “I do. But… I won’t have any of my family at the wedding like I always imagined as a child, and you’re the next closest thing. I just want you by my side, that’s all.”

Lucien reached forward, wrapping his big arms around you in an embrace. “Of course I will.” He muttered, squeezing you tight. “Thank you for allowing me the honour.”

The dragons screeched happily in the distance, reflecting the content you felt in your chest. So you inhaled your friend’s familiar scent mixed with the fresh autumn air. Everything you had done to get to this point was all worth it.

 *********************

You all but skipped down the hallway towards Eris’s office in the private library. After hours of talking, Lucien had left to go on a ride through the forest with Lirilla. You had briefly bathed and changed, freshening up to remove the lingering mustiness from your body after the sleepover and alcohol. 

You felt ten times lighter as you swung open the door with a force so strong the expensive knob bounded off the wall. Eris’s head snapped up from where he sat in a plush armchair, a mountain of papers in his hand. He was dressed in a billowy white shirt, the laces at the neckline undone and ever-so-slightly pushed open, revealing part of his toned chest. Red hair was tied back loosely behind his neck, and he raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the fire?” He asked dryly.

You simply bounded across the room in three steps and flung yourself into Eris’s arms, crawling into his lap and pressing your lips against his. His eyebrows shot up and he let out a muffled noise of surprise, but brought his hands up to your hips and pulled you closer. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee, melting in your mouth as you kissed him fiercely. 

Your skin tingled at the sensation of his hands on your hips as they slowly crept downwards, giving your backside a firm squeeze. The mating bond was practically purring in your chest at the contact, urging you to give into your desires. But you reigned yourself in, finally pulling your lips away from Eris’s after your lungs begged for air.

The High Lord smirked up at you, face flushed from your kiss. “I take it you liked your surprise?” His hands stayed on your backside, gently gliding up your hips then back down.

You nodded, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. “You’re amazing. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He chuckled, letting his lips drag over the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You’re very welcome, my dear.”

You pulled away, tangling your hands in Eris’s hair, tugging on the end of the locks right by his scalp. The High Lord tilted his chin back and let out a breath, eyelids fluttering as he grinned. You leaned down and pressed your lips to the column of his newly exposed throat. Underneath you, Eris shuddered as you grazed your teeth up his warm, pale skin before pressing a kiss just below his jaw. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, little fox?” He asked, but his voice was strained, hands gripping your hips tightly.

“Thanking you.” You purred, moving your head to the other side of his neck and repeating your actions.

Eris swallowed thickly, but chuckled. “Oh, sweet thing. Thanking me properly will have to wait until after the wedding.”

You leaned back, sitting up and frowning with confusion. Your mate’s subtle rejection stung slightly. “Seriously? I didn’t peg you for the wait until after marriage type.”

“I’m not,” He corrected, sliding his hands up from your hips and onto your lower back, pulling you closer to him once again. “Believe me, I want nothing more than to take you against this very desk and bury myself between your thighs until time loses all meaning. But I have plans for how I want to fuck you, the both of you. And it involves waiting a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, but stuck out your bottom lip ever so slightly. Eris smacked your rear sternly. “Don’t pout,” He scolded. “Brats don’t get nice things. And you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“When I feel like it.” You shrugged playfully. Eris’s grin widened like a cat that had just eaten the canary.

“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you.” His voice was a slick purr, heating up your skin as if his very own fire was running through your veins. Eris pressed a kiss to your cheek, then tapped your hip. “Now, I hate to brush you off like this, but as you can see I have a mountain of paperwork to get through before the wedding to make sure everything is in order. Nesta needs your help in the main hall, she’s all alone with those wedding planners and threatened to shave my head if I don’t send you to her the second you’re done with Lucien.”

You crawled off his lap, rolling your eyes playfully. “Aw, poor High Lord has paperwork.” You said mockingly. “You poor pampered thing.”

Eris shot you a glare. “Careful, little fox. Soon enough you’ll have your own mountain of paperwork as High Lady. That is, if you actually want to help me run this court. Unless you’d rather be like little Archeron over in the Night Court and be just a pretty face.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, knowing he was right. “Fine.” You turned on your heel to exit the study, cringing slightly as you noticed the chip in the wall from where you flung the door open.

“Little fox?” Eris called out.

You turned to face him at the door frame. “Yes?”

Eris’s smirk was devilish as he said coolly, “Do not seek out Nesta to satisfy your desires. She and I have already discussed the matter and are on the same page, so she will say the same thing I have told you, that you have to wait until after the wedding. And don’t you dare try to satisfy your urges on your own. If you do, I will know.”

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[mikachacha]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 4

Synopsis: Bada has been treating you bad but she doesn't wanna lose you so she does everything she could possibly pull off to get you back.

Warnings: angst, manipulation, gas lighting, love bombing, toxic behaviours and relationships, cursing. this is just one heavy thing so please be advised

(A/N: im still in awe that i was able to reach four damn chapters of this considering how lazy I am 🤧)

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Bada came home, a bit tired and she noticed something was off. The apartment was quiet and there wasn't any sign of you. Her heart began to pound when she called your name but there was no response. She ran to your shared bedroom and all of your belongings are no longer there. She frantically looked around but you were long gone. She tried texting you, calling you but you weren't answering. Her calls would just go straight to your voicemail. At that point, Bada felt lost. She's lost since you weren't there with her. She doesn't know what to do.

"No.. No.. I can't.. I can't lose you.." Bada could only pace around the apartment, trying to get a hold of you, your friends or anyone who might be in contact with you but to no avail. So Bada did what Bada does best, play the sad girlfriend who's desperate to find you and tell people that you left after a huge misunderstanding. She was desperate and she knows you too well that you really don't like way too much attention from other people and you really dislike having people meddling with your relationship and personal life.

Bada posted on her social media about being so sad that you left her without even saying goodbye. How she came home and you were no longer there along with your things. How you didn't give her a chance to even make up for everything and you just suddenly disappeared. Of course, people believed her. Even your family and friends did. Bada really knows how to get you back and she's not gonna stop until you come running back to her.

You tried to live your life the way you used to without Bada but it seems like you really can't escape her. It's like everyone and everything you do is pointing you back to her. You felt trapped. You didn't know what to do. So after almost a week of hiding from her, you finally messaged her to meet you at the park where she took you on a date once. You tried to brace yourself but when Bada came and she hugged you, you felt your walls crumbling down. You were crying. You were in despair, you were broken, you were scared. So many emotions hitting you all at once and Bada took advantage of your vulnerability.

"Baby.. I know things didn't go well between us but please.. Please give me this one last chance to make things better. You still love me, right? You still want to be with me, right? Want me to make things better for us? Want me to make this all stop?" Bada coos and stroked your hair while you sobbed in her arms. You wanted to say no, you wanted to get away from her, you wanted to tell her to go fuck herself because you're through but it seems like you couldn't find it in yourself to do it. You just nodded and Bada couldn't help but smile. She knew how to get you back, she knows you too well and she's gonna make sure that you won't be leaving her again any time soon.

That night, you came back home again. You were too tired to refuse, too tired to argue, too tired with everything. Bada began to treat you real well again. Spoiling you, making sure to make you feel special again and making sure that you're seen with her everywhere she goes. You should be happy but it made you feel so much worse. When will this go back to being bad? When will she stop caring again? When will she stop 'loving' you again?

Bada would cook you meals, take you out on dates and buying you things. She's also bringing you to all of her works just so she could keep an eye on you. You hated it but what else can you really do at this point? You just pretended that nothing's wrong, that everything's perfect between you and Bada. Maybe if you pretend enough, you can fool yourself as well into believing that everything's fine. That Bada truly loves you and that your relationship will be fixed. Though what she's showing you now scares you. When will it end? When will she stop showing that she cares? When will she make you feel that you're an idiot believing that she actually loves you? Those thoughts kept plaguing your mind and won't let you sleep at night.

"I'm glad you and Bada are back together now.. You guys look so perfect!" one of Bada's friends said as you sat at the back, watching Bada teach her class and you wanted to snap, you wanted to scream, you wanted everyone to realize that no, you're not glad that you got back together. You wanted to run away, you wanted to escape this nightmare that you're going through. But you can't. Because Bada has painted herself as the good person. The amazing partner who is madly in love with you, who's willing to take you back even if you left her, the person who's willing to give you the whole world just to have you back. And then you'll be this ungrateful bitch who took such amazing person for granted and everyone will hate you.

"Yeah.. I'm glad as well.." you said, looking away as you felt yourself tearing up from your own words. You felt crushed by your own lie that you oh so desperately wanted to believe.

It went on like that for months. You being the never needy, ever lovely jewel that shine reflects on Bada. You're like the perfect girlfriend for Bada that's always there supporting her and being loved by Bada but only if they knew what happens inside the apartment you shared with her. There were times she's sweet and there are times that she made you feel like you're the most useless human being in the world and that you're only there because of Bada.

"Y/N go make me something to eat. I'm starving." Bada ordered as you were cleaning around the living room. You hated it when she's not working. She's just horrible towards you and you're sick of it.

"Why don't you make your own damn food? I'm not your fucking slave and I'm tired of you treating me like crap whenever no one's around!" you yelled and slammed the mop on the ground and Bada chuckled coldly, standing up and stood in front of you. You were supposed to cower before when she did that but not today. All the anger and emotions that you've bottled for months is finally about to burst.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you still here? You could've left me, Y/N. You could've went back to the states the first time you left but you didn't because deep down, you still need me. You can't live without me. Let's face it, you're bound to be just a pretty little thing to keep me company until I finally get tired of you and discard you. But even after that, you'll still chase me around because you're just like that, Y/N. And will always be like that." Bada's words felt like being stabbed, shot, zapped and ran over all at once. Even if you deny it, her words still held some truth to it.

"Yeah, I still love you, Bada! Still so damn in love with you even if you hurt me, even if you keep breaking me like those damned promises you told me. But I'm done. I'm so done with you, so done with this relationship, so done with all your bullshits!" tears were streaming down your face but there's this burning determination inside you that Bada can't put out even with those words. You're determined to leave, you're determined to put yourself first. You want to help yourself out and away from this relationship to which you did exactly.

You pushed past her and went to grab and pack all the belongings that are important and you can carry. You pushed past her when she tried to stop you from leaving. You are so done and you didn't want to be her pretty little toy anymore. It all ends today. It all ends now. You didn't care if you were wearing your pajamas to the airport. You didn't care if you had to spend a lot of money just to get a ticket to go back to the states. You didn't care about the cameras being pointed your way, taking pictures and videos of you looking so disheveled for them to post and share on social media. All you cared about is you, and the feeling of being free from Bada's clutches.

————;

@lil-elliesgf @efyyylee @hwm1hyun @mikaleialt @bunnywonyo @badaswifey @mrs-grim-reaper @b1ackbunny @wifey-badalee

[aris-has-a-paracosm]

Hi, FinFault has inspired me to finally tackle a fic idea that I've had for a while! I've never been really good at planning out grand stories but the way your fic plays out and the way you seem to have it planned out really make me want to improve in that regard!

I wanted to ask if you'd be comfortable sharing how you plan your fic out? Do you write a broad overview? Or do something entirely different? No pressure to share though I am just super curious how you do it as I stumble through this myself :D

I love this ask! This is one I really wanted to spend some time thinking about, so after much thought, here's my planning process sort of in the format of "rules" I set for myself while planning stories. I apply this to any long-form story I write, but I will be using the example of FinFault specifically, as well as the plot structure I use:

Always know how your story ends before you even start writing it, and always keep a basic plot structure that you want to follow in mind, but don't restrict yourself in your plot points. I first got the idea that would become Finality's Fault back in mid-April of 2024. My brain gave me a basic premise and a scene to go with it. I then spun those around in my brain for almost a month. By the end of that time, it wasn't quite the same as my original premise, but I had a four act structure with a beginning, midpoint, climax, and end. At the time, I did not know exactly how the ending would happen, but I knew what the ending was, which was good enough of a foundation to build on/build towards. (I later formulated exactly how the ending would happen, around September I think, but because of my pre-established foundation with what it was, I wouldn't need to alter anything about what I'd written and dropped thus far.) All of my other plot points are similar. I have planned events to work towards, but the tiny details of those events don't need to be set in stone before you reach them.

The FinFault plot structure that I use (these differ from story to story, but this is my structure as a reference of how you can use structures): Act I: the Ranchers meet and get to know each other. Site 09 and general premise of the miasma is established. This is purely introductory. Chapter 10 will likely (hopefully) be the last Act I chapter if my word count estimate is correct for the next plot point -> Act II: now that we've established everything, the scope is expanded, new characters and information are introduced, and the Ranchers further develop their relationship -> Act III: new, pivotal information is introduced, but no new characters. This is The Big Turning Point, but I can't elaborate any further on that without spoilers -> Act IV: the pivotal information is acted on, and in combination with everything gained in the previous three acts, the story is wrapped up and concluded.

It's a good idea to keep at least one (if not more) planning document along with your drafting document. Some people will keep everything on one document, and if that works for you, then do that, but that is not viable for me. These are all the documents I use for FinFault alone: (1) planning doc -- all my plot points and chapter titles are in here in bulleted lists as well as important information (such as cyborg ID numbers and which organ each lost and when) I want to keep track of. This is the equivalent of DM notes in DND. (2) Working draft -- This doc is the first draft of every chapter together. This is the only doc that I keep in Times New Roman size 12 font. I also refer to this one as the "typing doc," and I edit absolutely nothing here. (3) Beta read doc -- after I finish each chapter in the working doc, I copy-paste it here, where my beta reader adds her comments. She and I will have full conversations in these comments, but again, there is absolutely zero editing here. (4) Final Formatting -- At the same time as copy pasting a chapter for the beta doc, I also copy paste the chapter to a new, separate doc, where I immediately reformat it as Verdana size 10 font, which is what Ao3 uses. Here is where all of the editing happens, and is my favorite part of each chapter. I will spend hours upon hours editing, and sometimes, certain scenes end up completely unrecognizable from the first draft. (5) Final Compiled -- once I deem a chapter as completely done, I copy paste it into here, where all of the final draft chapters are. The word count of this is almost 10k words longer than the first draft doc (just to show how much difference the editing makes), and the main purpose of it is so I can easily find things if Ao3 happens to be down. (6) Colored Dialogue Final Compiled -- This is the same as #5, but with the dialogue of every character highlighted to a person-specific color (Tango's is red, Jimmy's is blue, etc.). This is so I can keep track of exactly what everyone says, which is crucial for such a lore-heavy fic as this. (7) Deleted scenes -- and finally, we have the deleted scenes doc, which is where I put everything that didn't work. I technically don't need this one, but I like keeping track of what did work and what didn't. So that is 7 documents relating to one chapter. For nine chapters so far, that is 15 documents, with one being added for each and every new chapter. It's a system that works very well for me, and I love using it.

When creating something that does not exist in real life or other media, you can literally make up whatever you want about it, but you MUST adhere to the rules you make in order for it to be believable. Using the miasma as an example: it's a substance that does not exist plain and simple. I reference real scientific concepts with it, but it is 100% my own creation. However, I have flat out stated that solid-state miasma moves fast and with a specific flow pattern on metal. Therefore, now that I have stated that in a finished chapter that others have read, I can never go back on that or describe it in a different way unless I have a very specific reason to do so that will make sense to the narrative.

Try not to retroactively change things if you drop your story chapter by chapter before the whole thing is written. This applies more to my writing style, where I write each chapter, drop each chapter, and then write the next. If you're writing your entire story at once before anyone else sees it, go back and change as much as you want. Of course, this does not apply to misinformation within the plot itself. If a character believes a thing, but that thing isn't true, then that's fine. Don't beat yourself up if you miss something you already included, since everyone is human, but do put an active effort in making sure you're being consistent with what information you tell your readers.

There is no such thing as a consequence-free action. Try to consider human psychology as much as you can. Your characters don't exist in a vacuum of plot points, so they will always need to process previous events even if they're facing current events. If your plot is so fast paced that the characters have no time to think between events, give them the time (and wordcount) to process and deal with the aftermath at an appropriate time later. If an event is momentous enough, your characters will very likely be facing the aftermath or at least referencing said event for the rest of the story. For example, the second half of Chapter 9 is something I only included because Tango and Jimmy could not continue with the plot until they talked about the events of Chapter 8. It wouldn't have been believable at all for both of them to immediately move on and not think about those past events at all.

Get a beta reader if you can, or at least a trusted person you can bounce ideas off of. My beta reader is my best friend and roommate, and I don't know what I would do without her. She has suggested some great fixes to plot holes I used to have, and at times, just the act of talking to her and saying my ideas aloud is enough to help me figure them out myself.

Never ever ever rush yourself. Self-imposed deadlines can be a good motivator, but if you're not satisfied with a scene and need more time to think/edit, don't force yourself to meet that imaginary deadline. Remember that at the end of the day, fic writing is for fun and for yourself. If you're not happy with what you're doing with your own creative project, then don't force yourself through it.

I know this is cliche, but the most important "rule" is to have fun! If your project is something you genuinely love spending time with, it will make your whole life that much more enjoyable. For me at least, Finality's Fault absolutely brightened my year and made 2024 the best year I've had since 2019.

Best of luck to you and your fic! I'm happy to elaborate further on some of these points, and I'd love to experience your story when you're ready to share it! :D <3

[gamingdotcom]

goddamn this game!!! im not even done with my first playthrough and im already trying to figure out what i want to do with my second one.... i mean, ill share anyway. thoughts below the cut!

i feel like my first pass has been a rollercoaster of self-discovery and reflection and an... all consuming affection for a certain vampire twink. i think i have given varying levels of care to the story: i was in and out in act one while i figured out what this game was about and whether or not the story was interesting enough to listen to,¹ but i made a real effort to try and do every little thing before leaving.

in act 2, i kind of tired myself out by being so exhaustive in act 1 so i kind of sped run a lot of it (partially because i was DYING to find out what happens with astarion, partially because of the aforementioned burn out, partially because i was frustrated with the difficulty curve) so i really did not pay much attention. i refocused once dame aylin came into the picture because. hello. how could you ignore that-- but i had lost important beats and foreshadowing because of how i navigated that arc. i feel i have the most room to grow when returning to this chapter.

in act 3, im really slowing down and smelling the roses more, but trying not tire myself out the way i did in act 1. i am realizing, however, as some character arcs reach their crest, that i spent a lot of time and care with astarion and through that very singular focus have missed out on a lot of the other characters!! At this juncture i would say i am interested but not overly invested in the outcome of the overall story arc, and this may well be the result of my inconsistent focus on it.... it could also just be that i have very high standards for a compelling story. From where i stand, having not yet finished the game, i have found that the individual character arcs are the strongest point in the game by far-- i have seen most this through shadowheart and astarion, and although dame aylin's arc is not long, it is fucking powerful. perhaps i will find that the game returns what you give, and i may enjoy other parts of the story more if i give them more focus.

¹ I personally find that most RPG stories fall completely flat for me, so I was not expecting much. For the average game, I am far more interested in mechanics than story beats. Can't tell you why because I love a good book! And a good movie! And good TV!

so, given all this, my intentions for my second(!) run are:

acquire all characters asap (i went without karlach for most of act one, oops!), really try to spend time with them, and rotate through my party so I can see how the different characters interact. this may require slowing down even more than i did in my first run, but since the character arcs ive seen so far have proven to be the most compelling part of the game, i think it will be worth the trouble. i just have to be patient!

plan my character's progression out in advance so the difficulty curve does not hit as hard in act 2

stop looking at guides... altogether. this is a silent killer that i think has fucked with my experience! i have this compulsion to want to do everything perfect and control all the factors i can to give myself the best outcome and i think that has really hurt my experience in a number of ways: 1) ruins the surprise, 2) frames important story beat decisions in terms of costs and benefits rather than whether the choice is in-line with the character would say (or what I want to say), 3) reinforces this fun belief that mistakes should never be made even in fun fantasy game 4) micromanaging to this extent is just.. exhausting! It means im devoting less energy to the story than on how to optimize it to get the outcome i want. not great!

try my very best to not just hit spacebar during major plot beats. i think this will mainly mean playing in shorter bursts because i get attention fatigue if playing for longer than 1.5-2 hours.. and also eating before and drinking water while i play so i dont get hangry.

i think that's it! hopefully i will get a different but still engaging experience with the game! thanks for reading :)

[anosci]

media thread 2025

im making a list of media ive watched/played/etc this year with brief thoughts... perhaps reviews?

as before, it's mostly anime as I'm still working through my list

words below the cut

JANUARY

1/ To Your Eternity (2021)

the first episode is basically standalone. an introduction to a character you get to see slowly develop, and a sad story about a survivor. it's a little rough around the edges, but you think "that's fine. there's so much fascinating material beneath that ragged surface".

the second episode opens with an amazing portrait of an immortal being that's been given corporeal form and consciousness for the first time. it grows and learns. this could be amazing! then the episode continues and the thematic ties are cool, if filled with lots of rough edges.

but then the series goes on and... nope. it's not a somber look at what it means to be alive. it's just the rough edges. it's a shounen anime that accidentally got mixed in with a cool plotline.

it's not...... bad. if i HAD to watch some shounen anime, this'd be a good one to reach for.

it's frustrating. it kept hinting at introspection that'd be great to explore, then ignoring that entirely to do some shounen fodder. i dropped it after they started a tournament arc.

2/ Sonny Boy (2021)

it's gorgeous. it's unfocused. it unfolds beautifully. it's a threadbare sweater coming apart at the seams. it's a collection of amazing setpieces held together by duct tape and coat hangers.

i think it went on for at least twice as long as it needed to. a cut version of this show could be mindblowing

i don't think i can fully enjoy it for what it is. i think it will be the best show ever for the people who do resonate with it.

there were a lot of setpieces that i think will stick with me. i just wish they were more than setpieces.

FEBRUARY

3/ Komi Can't Communicate (2021)

i was looking forward to this one. it looked cute and endearing and potentially heartfelt. and it might be. but it is also sadly quite... hmm. the jokes do not land for me at all. :(

I ended up dropping it after 2 episodes. bleh.

4/ Amphibia S1 (2019)

the other TOH. a silly wacky little cartoon with a few hints of something bigger sprinkled in.

sadly the wacky cartoon parts range from "ok hehe" to "ass", to my tastes. it's hard to NOT compare it to TOH, which is unfortunate because TOH runs laps around this show. again, to my taste.

i kinda wish it'd pick up more of the serialization because of this. i keep thinking "it's like adventure time if the setting did nothing for me". yet im moving on to s2 next

MARCH

5/ Amphibia S2 (2021)

this is pretty much what i hoped season 1 would be.

still a lot of duds to my taste, but it's serialized enough to keep me in.

APRIL

6/ Amphibia S2 (2022)

I ended up marathoning the last few episodes and uh... wow that's a lot of threads that were tidily concluded. and a lot of spectacle. this overall fits a kind of in-between spot where i enjoyed it but i feel like it was a little scrambled. i really enjoyed the overall themes of "growing up and changing together". i feel like this took a backseat to spectacle and humor. but also idk. i feel i can't complain too much because i think it's successful at what it is.

7/ Spy x Family, Part 1 (2022)

I gotta say, the setup for this show? The first 3 or 4 episodes? Brilliant. Beautiful. I love it.

And then they dropped the anchor and activated the handbrake and cut the gas. The "collect all the stellas" thing was a bit alarming when first introduced and it only got worse from there. I think it wanted to be a forever-ongoing show from the start, but had some pesky "interesting plot" that got in the way first.

it could have been good :(

MAY

JUNE

8/ Deltarune Chapter 3 & 4 (2025)

deltarune is a kind of massive thing where, although i've played through it as of writing, i'll keep digging around and learning more about the game over time. but i did play through it! and oh boy. chapter 4.

you can find my fuller thoughts under the #deltarune spoilers tag. the short of it: i'm fascinated by where this is going. the vibes dont faulter. even the "weak" chapter 3 will stick with me.

9/ Bocchi the Rock (2022)

as i write, i have just finished the 12 episode run, and the ending? it just kinda putters out in the same way that a slice of life anime slowly zooms out to show that you're seeing but a slice. this is a bit underwhelming relative to the astounding depths of social anxiety that this show explored.

in some of the episodes, i felt seen. im going to specifically cite the opening of episode 7 as gut-wrenchingly relatable... to me specifically. ymmv etc.

i also just saw a comment abt the show addressing the trans desire to be so skilled at something that you become indispensable. i felt that too.

ive been watching eurobrady's commentary alongside each episode and that's been interesting but not as visceral. anyway yeah this was the best anime ive seen so far this year. easily.

10/ Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (2023)

this started back in may. 90 hours later... im writing it down. i don't think im stopping tbh lol. i got all the way to the last half of the final phase of the final fight before hitting a brick wall, so i decided to harness the power of billy mitchel just to see the ending. it's a storymark. whatever.

the open world nature o the game tho!!! i think it's the first open world non-car game i've played and i'm very enamored with the breadth of tools you have at your disposal, and the extent that the world responds to you. it quickly crawled into my heart as a favorite because of this, despite a few stumbles here and there.

[godza]

8 characters. i forgot abt this. abbreviating names and shit

1. kse. most unreliable narrator of all time. nothing he says is true and its not on purpose at all. biased little shit who is also being brainwashed constantly but hes chill with it. hate him so much im scared for 190+ i heard shit happens

2. braun. kses specialest little guy. eight foot tall monster who is now a teeny little bunny keychain in his besties pocket. does he still have his job. like does he split his consciousness between the studio and kse. no wonder he kidnapped kse for a month he needed a paycheck. he cares abt kse but in his own weird monster freak way. he just straight up forgot humans need to eat and sleep

3. k*maeda. the observant eliser will have noticed ive been thinking about him for weeks. im not sure why. its dying down a bit but it got so bad i started watching a playthrough after not seeing the game all the way through since middle school. im watching some random woman play the prologue and ch1 i might speed until she gets to the first trial and the fun begins. im watching another playthrough of the trial and that guy likes komaeda so i might speed thru that as well to get to the good stuff. my roomie knows him now but more as bryce papenbrook but insane

4. xiangling. hey do we remember her. i miss her. too bad genshit sucks and i dont have the attention span to watch videos of the events shes in. xiangling wake up its god. i dont remember anything canon about her she only exists in my drawings from 2021. also chongyun and xingqiu are my friends chongyuns my fave and my old "main" bc i didnt use benny as dps.

5. lelouchie. he sucks. made my roomie start watching i dont think were gonna get to the end of s1 before we move out i want her to see the reveal and also the end. weeee. hes kind of like edward the second to me. wouldnt it be fun if i put him on here. real historical guy that sucks. i love lelouchie hes terrible

6. cej. my man. i like him more than lsy sorry. its very funny and sad that everytime hes seperated from his bf he blacks out and indiscriminately attacks people. he has to stop doing that. i dont remember how 313 ended 312 made me want to black out and indiscriminately attack people. hey can i be choked out i dont wanna read this anymore. someone commented on my fic they stalled a few chapters ago and thats so real. dont read 312 you will want to kill yourself

7. lsy. same comments as above dont read 312 you will want to kill lsy and then yourself. i wish i could reach into the screen and strangle him because i dont understand what he did at all. at least he kissed cej bc right after that it all went to shit. at least theyve both strangled each other but its been established its lsys kink not cejs. i miss them being happy but they didnt get together while it was happy. only the apocalypse could bring these two repressed f slurs together. i want lsy to get flustered again i know its happened again after the biting incident but i wanna see it. damn im in so deep i wanna go on twt for fanart

8. man idk anymore i got too emo over those two. moonpuppy. last week i stayed up too late bc i was looking for the exact page he loredropped on raebunny but got distracted and read carrotcoin and highlighted so much of it. no more carrot economic fraud. we decided to start a revolution. i will destroy it all. idk if this was before or after zombies but itd be rlly funny if he continued his vendetta against the pds. moonpuppy truman show... i love him so much i like how bds writing style shows with both pmd and kse. very diff people but awesome. whens moonpuppys serial killer arc. im not calling you a good boy sunbae you kidnapped me and told me to kill myself

do this i wanna diversify once more. as many likes as possible

[velociraptoraddict]

I'm going on a camping trip this weekend

I'll still have my phone and access to the internet

But unlikely I'll get anything done with Chomp

I already have roughly 3/4 of chapter 17 written though so hopefully I'll have it done sometime next week then 2-4 weeks for editing (>_>; I really should figure out a better method to editing...😅 Right now my method is so complicated it's hard to describe without visual aid (no joke) but if you want to see how my weird (possibly ADHD) self edits, hit me up and I'll make a quick tutorial... maybe then someone can give me tips on how to actually edit where it doesn't take me a full month to go through one chapter)

EDIT: Apparently Tumblr only lets you have 30 tags on a post!? Thank goodness I was able to actually say everything I wanted/needed to say within that limit 🤣 (still though, I can provide visual aid like a quick video if anyone wants to see how exactly it is my mind works or if you simply don't believe me when I say this is literally how I've been writing/editing for over half a year (I'd probably be unstoppable if I didn't live this way))

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

scum of the earth

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Naoya Zen'in x chubby fem reader ɞ

Part 1 ♥︎ Part 2 ♥︎ Part 3 ♥︎ Part 4 ♥︎ Part 5

❥ Word Count: 11.1k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, bullying, fatphobia, sexism, misogyny, Naoya being Naoya, smut, noncon, dubcon, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, breeding kink, babytrapping

❥ A/N: omgggggg im so tireddddd. Thank yall so much for being so patient with me. I hope this disgustingly long chapter/part will make up for the time you spent waiting. Full disclosure, i didn't fully beta read this so there very well may be mistakes and i apologize for that but also i refuse to keep working on this part i want it DONE already!! Anyways enjoy sksksk

Naoya: hey

Naoya: im sorry i said all that in front of you. i really didnt mean it

Naoya: can we talk?

Naoya: hello?

Naoya: are you just gonna ignore me?

Naoya: ik your getting my texts, i can see that you read them

Naoya: cmon baby dont be like that :(

Naoya: i promise i didnt mean it babe lets just talk

That was the last message you received from Naoya before you mustered up the courage to block his number. You had to rub your eyes and blink a few times to find the block button, sniffling once the deed was done. You took a screenshot of his messages—you had to share them with your friends when you ranted about him later—and promptly deleted all traces of him from your phone.

You turned your music back on, tossing your phone back on the bed and letting the vocals drown out your muddled thoughts. Despite your eyes being swollen and sore, you still felt the tears well up as you listened to the song’s lyrics. It hurt listening and relating to the song in question, but you needed to do this. The longer you held back your feelings, the worse off you would be. It was better to cry until you felt numb and move on with your life.

You felt so stupid though. You’d spent so many nights thinking about your neighbor, recounting the sex you had just hours before, playing over every action and wondering if there was a deeper meaning. A part of you hated the notion that he could feel something more for you, but… but another part of you ached for it. Maybe you were just desperate and were looking for any excuse to latch onto someone showing a pattern of interest in you. Maybe you really were as pathetic as Naoya made you out to be. Why else would you hope that a sexist, misogynistic asshole like him would feel something for you?

So much for drowning out your thoughts.

Your phone lit up against the comforter and you instinctively picked it up to check who it was. You still feared that Naoya would be able to contact you somehow, but luckily it was just your friend responding to your text.

Bestie 🥺💕: Wait he did WHAT

Bestie 🥺💕: Do you need me to come beat him up bc I’m fully prepared to kill him

Bestie 🥺💕: Like I get that yall aint dating or whatever but wtf

Bestie 🥺💕: WAIT do you want me to castrate him? I shadowed a vet one time and saw it done on a dog so i’m pretty confident I can do it to a human too sksksks

You couldn’t stop a laugh from slipping out of you, your lips curling into a weak smile as you sent a discouraging reply, asking them if you could come over for takeout and a glass of wine. You felt your spirits start to lift when they enthusiastically replied, mentioning a movie you hadn’t heard of and offering to cheer you up. You took their offer immediately, not thinking twice as you jumped up from bed and shimmied out of your sundress, slipping on the nearest pair of shorts and oversized t-shirt you could find.

You didn’t bother checking if Naoya was outside as you bolted past his door and down the stairs, running out to the parking lot in your flip flops, your bag bouncing against your side as you reached your car. You rushed to get inside, speeding out of the parking lot as soon as you could. You had a burst of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you got onto the road, your sadness soon replacing with rage as you turned up the radio.

Fuck him, you thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight. He can go die in a hole for all I care.

Four days. That’s how long it had been since Naoya had spoken to or even seen you. Over the past few months, the two of you had grown into the habit of conversing at least every other day—either hooking up or just exchanging a word or two. But this, this new change of pace: it was making him antsy, uncomfortable. He hated it. He wanted to punch someone, but what’s worse is that he wanted your attention more.

Even now, as he stared down at his black phone screen, he wondered if you would text. He had spent far too much time checking his notifications for something, any kind of sign that you were acknowledging him, and he felt fucking pathetic for it. Jesus, he had stooped so low as to stalk your social media accounts to see if you were miserable without him. Why did he want you to be miserable without him—

“Mr. Zen’in.” Naoya blinked, glancing up to meet his professor’s stern gaze. He sheepishly cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks burn when he heard a handful of stifled giggles behind him.

“Yes, sir?”

“You seem very invested in your phone. Anything interesting you’d like to share with the class?”

Fuckin’ nosey geezer, Naoya thought with a sigh, sitting up straighter.

“Yeah, um… my dad was admitted to the hospital. I’m just… really worried about him right now.”

It took everything in his power not to break character as the mood shifted in the classroom, the professor’s defensive look soon melting into one of concern.

“The hospital? Did this happen just now?”

“No, um… he was admitted last night but he’s still in critical care. He told me not to worry and to come to class but… I can’t help but be concerned.”

He bit his cheek when he heard a girl or two ‘aw’ at his performance. Perhaps, if this was a few months ago, he would’ve been ecstatic to know that the few girls in his business course were fawning over him, but things were different now. His priority was getting out of this classroom asap. Naoya looked back at the professor once he sighed.

“I’m sorry for your predicament, Mr. Zen’in, but I don’t allow disruptions in my class. I’ll allow you to leave for the day, but you’ll have to get notes from one of your classmates.” Naoya nodded, hurriedly grabbing his things and stuffing them in his backpack.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” He dashed out of the room without another word, zipping up his bag as he darted down the hall and out of the lecture building. He ran a bit too fast to his car, ignoring the curious stares sent his way as he trotted to a stop. He left the parking lot quickly, racing down the road and to his apartment. If his assumption was correct, you would be coming home from work by now and, if he was lucky, he might be able to meet you by the front door and try to talk—

Why do you care so much?

Naoya relaxed his foot on the gas pedal, pondering the question as he turned onto his street. He honestly didn’t have an answer. He truly didn’t know if he considered this behavior as evidence that he cared for you. If anything, he was just pissed off and frustrated that you were avoiding him like the plague. He needed an explanation, some type of closure so he could—

Wait, closure? Closure for what exactly? For a sexual relationship? Seems pretty sad to need closure from someone, especially a woman of all people.

Naoya flexed his hand on the steering wheel as he turned into the parking lot of his apartment. He continued to ponder the way he felt, but all those confusing emotions faded once he saw a hulking figure pulling something out of your car. He parked beside your vehicle quickly, glaring at Toji as he grabbed his bag and stepped out.

“The hell you doing?” Toji glanced up at Naoya before continuing what he was doing, not paying him any mind as he picked something up out of the trunk of your car. “Hello?” Naoya asked with an impatient snarl. Toji grunted as he stood up, revealing the several trays of canned goods he was holding.

“I’m just helpin’ out a lil lady. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”

“Huh?” Naoya moved around his car to look into the back of yours, seeing several reusable bags filled with groceries. He blinked, looking back at Toji, frowning when he transferred the canned goods to one arm while he picked up a bag and slung it over his shoulder. “You’re helping Y/N take in groceries?”

“Yep,” Toji huffed, moving the cans to his opposite arm just to pick up another bag. “Got home right when she did and saw all the stuff she got, so I thought I might as well give her a hand.”

“She’s not helpless,” Naoya grumbled, his hand tightening around the strap of his backpack, eyes skimming over the food you bought, curiosity eating away at him.

“Course not, but ain’t you the one who’s always whining about girls doin’ shit that a man should do?” Naoya frowned, cheeks burning under his cousin’s sharp gaze. “Well, guess what? Carrying in groceries is part of the man’s job. So why dontcha prove you’re a real man and grab the last of those bags for me?”

Fucking asshole, Naoya thought, but he still did as his cousin said and picked up the last three bags in the trunk. He pushed the lid down, making sure it clicked shut before he looked back at Toji. His cousin gave him a smile, nodding as he turned and walked to the front door of the building.

“Now get yer keycard ready. I don’t wanna carry this longer than I have to.”

You put the last of your frozen goods in the freezer before shutting the door, folding your cloth bag and placing it on the counter.

Okay, just three more trips to go, you thought with a sigh, already tired as you grabbed your keys and walked out of the apartment. You were fully prepared to trot back down the stairs to your car and get the canned goods next. It would be better to get the heavier stuff out of the way so you weren’t exhausted by the end—

You paused, furrowing your brow as you saw Toji reach your floor, carrying groceries that looked suspiciously like yours. After a moment or two of inspection, you confirmed that yes, they were your groceries.

“Oh, Mr. Toji, you really didn’t have to do that—”

“Who’s this ‘mister Toji’? You don’t gotta be formal with me, sweetheart, and I don’t mind helpin’ out.” He took several long strides to meet up with you, gazing down at you like you were a poor little mouse that had snuck into his room. “It’s always a pleasure to help lil beauties like you.” You let out a nervous giggle, praying that your embarrassment wasn’t noticeable as you played with your fingers.

“You flatter me.”

“I’m just bein’ honest.”

“Are you done flirting yet, or am I gonna have to carry this shit all day?” You whipped your head around, frowning when your eyes fell on Naoya and his usual scowl, but you didn’t grant him with the same in return. If anything, you looked right through him, as if he wasn’t there at all, barely processing when his angry gaze faltered and turned into disappointment.

“Actually, sure, how about you stand there for the next four hours and hold those bags straight out at shoulder height? It’d do you some good to gain some muscle.” You snorted slightly, covering your mouth and turning away, slipping past Toji and back to your apartment. Naoya’s face burned, his frown deepening as Toji smirked back at him.

“I work out enough. I don’t need your help,” he grumbled, trudging to meet up Toji as he followed you into your home.

“You sure about that? You’re lookin’ a lil scrawny to me. How much can you bench press?” Toji asked, placing the multitude of canned goods on your counter as well as the bags he was carrying.

“None of your business,” he snarled, putting his bags on the counter before glancing around your apartment. He’d never been to your place before—he had never bothered—but he found it very comfortable now that he was here. The furniture and decorations seemed to fit your personality, and he was a bit annoyed that he hadn’t suggested fucking at your place before you started hating him again.

“Ah, see? Sounds like you can’t lift for shit, dude.” Naoya rolled his eyes, turning back to his cousin with crossed arms, his gaze falling on you as you started pulling items out of your grocery bags. Toji followed his eyes, smirking as he looked back at him. “Look, I know you don’t see the point in lifting as much as me but think of it this way. If you can lift more, then you can pick up any pretty girls you like! Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec?”

“Hm?” you hummed, barely listening as you looked up at Toji. He held his hand out towards you, beckoning you to come closer. You furrowed your brow, taking a few steps towards him, gasping when his arm went around your waist.

“Watch and learn, dude.”

“Wait—” Toji leaned down, locked his arms under your ass and lifted you up without another word, causing you to yelp in surprise. You glanced around, legs kicking anxiously. “Don’t! Put me down; I’m too heavy!”

“Aw, you’re wounding my pride here, doll. I’m stronger than I look.” He tucked one forearm further underneath you, pulling the other one out and keeping you held up. “See? Ain’t nothin to worry about. You’re safe with me.”

Naoya couldn’t take it. Looking at the blatant flirtation happening in front of him made him want to vomit. He couldn’t stand to see his cousin flirting with whatever girl showed up in front of him, and with youno less. He pushed himself away from the counter, readjusting his backpack before giving one more dirty look and walking past the two of you.

“I’m going to study. Don’t be loud. I don’t wanna hear my neighbor whoring herself out to any guy who gives her attention.”

“Hey—”

Naoya slammed your door shut behind him, cutting off Toji’s sentence. He stomped to his apartment, hands shaking as he fumbled with his keys. It took him a moment to unlock it but once he did he rushed inside and shut the door hard. He rushed to his bedroom, closing and locking his door before dropping his bag. He shuffled to his bed, not bothering to kick off his shoes as he climbed on top. He grabbed his pillow, balling the cushion in his fists before bringing it to his face, screaming into it. He held onto the sound for as long as his lungs would allow, letting his throat burn as he reached his breaking point. He pulled it down a few minutes later, gulping down a breath and letting it free before punching the pillow into the bed. He grit his teeth as he slammed his fist down over and over, wishing he could feel the skin of his knuckles break, crimson pooling into his palm. He received no satisfaction for his bloodlust, but he did burn off a bit of the adrenaline pumping through him. He felt his throat close up the longer he hunched over his bed, chest heaving, eyes burning as tears began to well. He hated this. He hated his cousin, he hated you, he hated hated hated it to the point where he would rather take a sledgehammer to his knees than continue to go through this. How much longer was Toji supposed to be here? At least three, no more than ten days? It felt like an eternity already.

He slumped down to his sheets, unwilling to cry.

Naoya had never slept with so many different women in one week. Well, maybe during spring break, but definitely not during the school year, and definitely not within the last year or two. He had turned into an animalthe last few days, contacting random women he matched with on Tinder so he could find some sort of relief for the constant migraine he’d developed. He didn’t bother with courting, he didn’t even remember their names: he just needed a warm wet hole to let out his frustration on. Luckily, he was blessed with charm and good looks, so it wasn’t hard to find women who were willing to let him have his way with them.

He didn’t notice at first, but he’d been going after fat girls more. He blamed it on you: it was your fault for affecting his appetite in women, making him prefer softer, rounder girls who keened at the slightest touch. It wasn’t the same for some reason—why was it that their bodies weren’t as satisfying to the touch as yours?—but it did the trick, and he’d had at least one girl per day for the last few days.

He never took them to his apartment. The last thing he needed was to hear you and Toji bonding on the other side of his thin wall, your giggles ringing in his ears. All it would do is take him out of the experience—or worse, turn him on even more. He was already struggling to accept that you were essentially ignoring his existence at this point, but now he was trying to fill in your role with other thick girls.

They were never as good as you, their pussies never as wet or tight or as greedy for his cock. He found himself thinking about you even in the middle of fucking the life out of his toy for the day, her high-pitched moans riddled with pleas for him to slow down and have mercy, spurring him on more. He actually grunted your name as he came on one woman, merely rolling his eyes when she started crying as he got himself dressed. He didn’t think much of it, just blamed it on the fact that your name had been on his lips for so long. Old habits die hard, ya know?

But regardless of how much pussy he got—regardless of how good they felt or how satisfied he was with the entire interaction—his mind still wandered back to you. It wasn’t fair; you didn’t matter at this point. You weren’t fucking him so you had no use to him now, so why was he still thinking about you? Why did he still check his phone expecting you to text and beg him to come back, to forgive you for your behavior and give you another chance?

No, it wasn’t going to happen like that. He knew that he was technically the one at fault here—he was the one who insulted you when all you had done is show up in front of his door wearing a sundress and holding brownies—but what did you expect him to do in that situation? He couldn’t just admit in front of his cousin that you two were hooking up. He had a reputation to uphold, and the last thing he needed was his stupid disowned family member to start spreading rumors and making him look bad. What if his dad found out? What if his friends found out? He would rather have you hate him than be teased for fucking the same fat girl on a regular basis.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, about the heartbroken look you gave when he insulted you for the first time in months. It made his stomach twist uncomfortably, and he wished you would just forget it all happened so he wouldn’t feel so shitty anymore. Maybe then he could sleep soundly without dreaming about you almost nightly.

“You look like shit, bro.” Naoya sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he kept walking ahead of his “friends” (could he even call them that? All they really liked him for was his money).

“Have you been sleeping okay? You look tired.”

“Why don’t you two mind your goddamn business?” he snarled, his strides getting longer as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Oooo, someone’s mad.”

“Bet he hasn’t had sex in weeks—”

“For your information,” he snapped, glaring to the man on his right, “I’ve been getting more pussy than yall have seen in your life.”

“Okay?” one man snickered. “Then why are you so bitter? You act like you just got dumped.”

“Fuck you—”

“Jesus! What is your problem dude? It’s Friday: shouldn’t you at least be happy about that? C’mon, let’s go get a few drinks, pick up a couple chicks and—”

“I’m going home,” Naoya interrupted as he suddenly turned towards the exit doors of the building. “I’ve got a project coming up. Wanna make an outline before tomorrow.”

“Yeah right,” called out one friend as Naoya walked through the door. “You’re such a bad liar it’s not even funny—”

The door shut behind him, cutting off his friend’s insult. He hopped down the stairs two-by-two and jumped down the last three, ignoring his friend as he opened the door to yell after him. His words were garbled by traffic anyways.

Naoya’s classmates did have a point though: he was being ruder than usual. Maybe he just hadn’t found the right replacement for you yet. The girls he’d been with so far were okay, but no one stood out. They shared one or two similarities to you, but none were a good enough place-holder so far. There was one girl he had been chatting up all day whose breasts looked almost identical to yours, but he wasn’t sure if she’d put out tonight. That was the main reason he left campus and drove home right after his last lecture: he was hoping he could convince her to let him come over.

Naoya checked his Tinder messages again after he parked in front of his apartment, a smirk spreading on his lips when he saw an unread message from the cutie he was pursuing. He didn’t care for her face per say, but he wasn’t going to speak to her after tonight so he didn’t care too much about that. He walked up the stairs leisurely, reading the girl’s latest message with a frown, wondering how he could respond to sway her decision to his favor. Maybe he could ask for her number and send a dick pic; that usually persuaded women to let him smash.

He unlocked his apartment, sighing as he walked inside, freezing when he noticed the empty couch. For the last week and a half, Toji had been strewn across it whenever he wasn’t working or hanging out with you, spare pillow and a sheet draped over the cushions. But they were gone now, the chair absolutely bare. Naoya tried not to get his hopes up, glancing around for any other sign of him. His duffel bag was also gone, and his large boots were nowhere in sight.

Naoya’s suspicions weren’t confirmed until he looked at his kitchen counter, eyes widening at the sight of the fat envelope sitting on top. He dropped his bag, opening the stuffed paper, smirking when he saw a wad of cash inside. He sifted through it, counting around ¥ 250,000, a decent amount considering how annoying Toji was to deal with. There was a small note at the end of the pile, rushed scribbles difficult to distinguish.

Naoya,

Thanks for letting me crash at your place. Here’s your cut. See ya around

Toji

“Finally,” Naoya breathed, crumbling up the note and tossing it onto the counter, pulling out his wallet and stashing his earnings inside. It was about time that his stupid cousin leave. He’d been eating him out of house and home, not to mention ruining Naoya’s relationship with you and—

Wait…

You.

You were all alone now, no bigger man around to defend you from Naoya’s bullying or advances. You didn’t have that worthless mutt to distract you from his presence. This was the perfect chance, the best opportunity Naoya had to appease you and go back to your prior relationship. It wouldn’t be hard to make you like him again. Women were easy like that—all he had to do was apologize and bat his eyes a bit and promise to do better, and you’d go back to presenting yourself to him like a good girl.

He should shower first. And shave. It’d been a minute since he got rid of the annoying scruff that began to grow on his jaw. It was barely five, so he could get himself cleaned up and stop by with a bottle of soju by dinnertime.

So that’s what he did. He gussied himself up like a girl on prom night, cleaning every neglected inch of himself, even going so far as to brush his teeth and cut his nails. He needed to look presentable if he was going to win your affection back, so he had to put in a bit more effort.

By the time he was finished and outside your door with two small glasses and some soju, it was around six pm. Perfect timing.

Naoya knocked on your door three times, waiting to hear you hurry to the door. He did hear footsteps approaching, but you didn’t open the door, didn’t even ask who it was. Damn peephole, he thought as he cleared his throat.

“Y/N~” he cooed as sweetly as he could muster. “I know you’re there: I heard you on the other side. C’mon and open the door for me, yeah?” Silence still, an aching quiet that made Naoya’s frustration grow. He took a deep breath, letting it out as a forlorn sigh as he leaned against the wall. “Look, I know I was an asshole. I did a lot of shitty things, and I apologize for hurting you. I wanted to make it up to you, so I thought we could resolve things over a drink.”

He heard you unlocking the door, sliding the lock out of place before twisting the doorknob and finally showing yourself to him. He was already smiling, prepared to sweep you off your feet, but stopped dead in his tracks.

You were dressed up, at least in his eyes. Your hair was designed neatly, makeup highlighting your best features but still sensible enough that it didn’t look like an entirely separate skin. But what really caught his attention was your outfit: you wore a cute little bodycon dress, fabric clinging to your form and stopping just above your mid thigh, exposing your smooth legs. His eyes continued to trail down to the heeled sandals you were wearing, propping you up a couple inches, accentuating your legs and ass. It was too good to be true, almost like you knew he would be coming over. Why else would you be dressed up like a pretty little present for him to unwrap?

“What do you want?” you snapped, one hand still on the doorknob as the other rested on your hip. God, your hips. He hadn’t had a proper look at them in far too long, and all he wanted to do was grab them and squeeze and hear you squeak in response— “Helloooo? Are you gonna answer me?”

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You scoffed, crossing your arms, pushing against those perfect breasts that he’d wanted his hands on for weeks.

“What exactly do you want, hm? You came over here with alcohol and you’re putting on a façade, so what are you trying to get out of this?” Naoya held up his free hand, the other holding onto the glasses and soju.

“Hey, I get it. You have no reason to trust me, especially after I treated you so poorly, but I just wanna make things right.” He put on his most sympathetic face, taking a step closer to you. “I shouldn’t have treated you so harshly; you didn’t deserve any of it. It’s just… well, my cousin Toji has never been my favorite. He’s always judged me and looked down on me, and I didn’t want him to think—”

“­What? That you were fucking a fat girl?” Naoya’s eye twitched, but he still sighed and shrugged.

“I didn’t want him to look down on me for the relationship I had with you.” He braced himself as he grasped at little lies floating in his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “My family is fairly conservative, traditional if you will, and having sex outside of marriage isn’t something that would be accepted by them. I worried that if he had found out, he would tell them immediately and I would be cut off from them indefinitely. I can’t disappoint them—”

“Oh my God, you’re such a tool, Naoya,” you announced. Naoya blinked, shocked to hear you raise your voice at him in such a way.

It pissed him off.

You pointed a manicured finger at him, eyes furrowed in anger.

“You think you can just walk over here with your expensive wine and stupid Yeezy’s and expect me to accept your pathetic excuse for an apology that you are clearly pulling straight out of your ass? Hell no.”

“Tsk. How presumptuous of you—”

“No. I’m not dealing with this Naoya!” You began to close your door, glaring at him past the wood. “I’m not gonna sit around and take your shit anymo—”

“Hold on,” he snapped, blocking the door with his foot, bracing his forearm against it for added support. “So why’re you all dressed up, huh? You telling me you didn’t put on this outfit just to rile me up? You’re telling me you dressed up like a high-end escort just for fun?”

“First off, fuck you. Second, my reasons for dressing up don’t concern you, so you don’t—”

“Who is he?” You blinked, taken aback.

“Who’s who?”

“Him, the guy you got all pretty for. Women don’t doll themselves up unless they’re trying to impress a guy—”

“Oh my God, you’re insane—”

“—so who is it? Hm? Is it someone I know?” You hesitated, and Naoya noticed it, pupils sharpening as you sighed.

“Does it matter—”

“Of course it does.” Naoya pushed against the door, effectively making you lose your balance and stumble back as he walked in after you. “What if I had dumped you and then you found out I was fucking your mom?”

“What are you talking about?!” you almost shouted, frowning as he shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes. “Hey, you’re not staying—”

“Yes I am. I gotta see what kind of sad excuse of a man is interested in you.”

“No, you—”

“Is it the gym rat on the fourth floor? Or that sad incel down the hall because I swear to God if you got dressed up for that pathetic white boy—”

“Naoya!” you shouted, fists clenched at you side. “Who I am seeing is none of your business!” Naoya scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

“So what’s gonna happen?” he continued, placing the soju and glasses on the counter, crossing his arms and leaning against it. “Is he gonna come pick you up for a little ‘romantic’ date, or are you just gonna blow him while he drives around the block?”

“What is wrong with you?” you hollered, hands beginning to shake. You hated how your emotions raced within you, forcing tears to prick at your eyelids, eager to spill while you struggled to control your breathing. “Why are you being so mean to me? I haven’t done anything to you—”

“Oh, sure you haven’t.” Naoya pushed off the counter, sauntering over to you. “You act like you’re so great, having an apartment and a job all on your own—”

“Jesus, not this again—”

“—and you think that people like you for that but they don’t. Guys see you and the only thing they think about is how your tits would look if you rode their dick.” He towered over you, making you curl into yourself in fear. “No man will give a shit about you unless you spread your legs for them. That’s all you’re good for.”

You felt your tears well, and you tapped your ring fingers against the inner corner of your eyes to try and quell the overwhelming desire to bawl your eyes out. You swallowed hard, struggling to keep eye contact with him as you sniffled softly.

“You’re… you’re wrong… there’s plenty of g-guys who like me and don’t want sex—” Naoya snickered, tossing his head back before looking down at you with a victorious grin.

“Oh really? Like who? Is the little boy who’s coming to pick you up taking you on a date because of your personality? I highly doubt it. Your only redeeming quality is your ass—”

You shoved him hard, making him stumble back. He stared at you incredulously, scoffing as he regained his footing.

“You’re wrong,” you spoke firmly, your bottom lip trembling, your resolve waning. “Toji always tells me how funny and nice I am—”

“What does he have to do with this?” You sniffed, using your knuckles to swipe at the edge of your eyelids, wiping off any indication that you were about to cry and finally meeting Naoya’s gaze. His eyebrows were screwed together, deep in thought. His face twisted as the silence grew between you two, realization gracing his features with each passing moment.

“You… he’s the one that’s supposed to take you out?” You crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall. He stared at you in shock, shaking his head slightly. You thought he was angry, appalled, but then he started laughing. It was just a chuckle at first, but then it grew into a full on guffaw, his arms wrapped around his middle as he hunched forward.

“What’s so funny?” you hissed, gripping your arms tightly as he struggled to calm down. He gasped for air, standing up straight and taking several deep breaths.

“Oh my God. You really are dumber than a box of rocks, huh? Jesus—”

“What are you talking about?” Naoya hooted once more, sighing as he met your gaze.

“You really think Toji, the King of Bachelors, was going to waste his time taking you out on a date?” You blinked, your blood running cold, body tensing.

“What… what do you mean?” Naoya rolled his eyes, taking a step towards you again.

“Toji has always been a piece of shit. The only time he was a decent human being was when he got married, but then he went back to his old self once she kicked the bucket.” Your lip quivered, hands clenched around one another, knuckles locking together and stopping the bloodflow.

“What are… what are you saying—”

“Jesus, how dumb are you, Y/N?” His hand found the wall beside you and he leaned down so he was eye level to you, a shit-eating grin plaguing his features. “Listen and listen good, princess: Toji has an unbreakable habit of going from girl to girl, taking what he wants and then leaving them with nothing. The only reason he was so nice to you was because he wanted to eat your food and fuck you. And since you clearly didn’t put out, he left you alone without a word.”

You could feel your skin begin to tingle, hands shaking as they grasped one another desperately. Your worst fears, your insecurities, everything you had worked to ignore was bubbling to the surface again, leaving you weak and defenseless.

“You… you’re lying—”

“Oh? You want me to go get the note that says he was leaving? Or the cash he left behind for me? Or better yet, let’s call him up on your phone. You’ve got his number! Give him a call and ask where he is, since you two have a ‘date’ or whatever.”

You didn’t want to move, worried that you would collapse after just one step, but your determination was still strong enough to give you courage. You took in a shaky breath, pushing past Naoya and stomping to your bedroom. You glanced over the bed, moving the sheets and grabbing your cell phone. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you crawled onto your bed, legs tucked underneath you as you brought up your messages with Toji. The last three were still unread, but you held onto hope as you clicked on his number, calling him. The phone rang once, twice, and by the fourth time you felt your heart sink. You gulped, eyes darting to Naoya who had appeared in your bedroom doorway. He still had that same shitty smirk on his face as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing. The phone continued to ring, and with each passing second you felt your heart sink lower and lower.

“The number you are calling is not available. Please try again—”

You hung up, lowering the phone to your lap, staring off into your room. You couldn’t believe it. No, it hadn’t been long since you met Toji, but he seemed so nice, so receptive. He flirted with you nonstop and acted so interested in everything you had to say, and for what? To fuck you? And when you didn’t give it up to him fast enough, he just gave up? Were all men like this? Or was it just everyone in Naoya’s family?

“Lemme guess.” Speak of the devil. Naoya plopped down on your bed, hands folded behind his head as he laid down beside you. “He blocked you.” You didn’t respond, and he hummed in response. “Just as I expected. Well, it’s your own fault for getting so attached to an asshole like him. I thought you were smarter than that! You shoulda known better than to get attached to a guy who goes from city to city doing God knows what for money—”

He stopped when he turned his head to look at you. Your mouth was turned downwards in an exaggerated frown, lip wobbling as you stared down at your bed. Big crocodile tears were streaming down your cheeks, creating lines in your makeup, effectively ruining it. Naoya cringed at the sight, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

“Are you crying right now?” You turned your face away from him, making him frown and glare. He sat up, staring at you in disbelief, scoffing. “You can’t be serious. You’re crying over him? Him? Don’t be pathetic, Y/N—”

“Please,” you mumbled, sinking down to the bed, your back to him. “Please just go.”

“Tsk. Don’t change the subject. Why’re you crying over him? He’s nothing but trash, a waste of space. You’re really gonna waste your time crying over a guy who never cared about you in the first place—”

“You made your point,” you choked out, kicking off your sandals and pulling your sheets over you. “I get it. I’m worthless. Just please leave me alone.” Naoya frowned harder, eyebrows furrowing as he crawled over your form.

“You’ve only known him for two weeks and you’re crying over him? He didn’t do jack shit for you, and yet here you are wasting tears on him.” He grabbed your chin forcefully, yanking you to the side so you were facing him. You whined, hiccupping on your sob as his eyes bore into you, fingers digging into your cheeks. “What’s the deal, huh? Is it because he’s taller? Stronger? Hm? What exactly made you fall head over heels with that asshole?”

“N-Naoya, stop—”

“He hasn’t done anything for you, so what are you crying about? He wouldn’t bother trying to get you wet before he fucked you, ya know, because he doesn’t care.”

“Naoya—”

“He wouldn’t buy takeout for you afterwards either.” You felt the covers slip off of you, his warm hand connecting with your waist, trailing down your hip. “He wouldn’t make sure you came before him. He wouldn’t make sure you were okay after he fucked you. He wouldn't buy the same stupid body wash just because you liked how it smelled.”

“S-Stop—”

“And yet you did so much for him.” His hand found your bare thigh, squeezing the plump flesh and sighing. “You shaved your legs for this stupid date. You never did that with me.”

You were still crying, squirming beneath him as he kept a vice-like grip on your jaw. He moved further on top of you, straddling your legs as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of your dress.

“You put in all this effort into your makeup and hair and outfit and he didn’t even show up. I wouldn’t have done that to you.” Naoya’s hand traveled beneath the stretchy fabric, pulling it along with him as he glided up your legs. “I would’ve shown up. Woulda taken you someplace real nice. He probably would’ve just taken you to Taco Bell and then made you pay.”

“N-Naoya, wait, don’t—” His hand moved further, pulling your dress up over your hips, exposing the rest of your thighs up to your tummy. Naoya stared for a moment before scoffing.

“Lace? You wore lace panties for him?” Your face burned with embarrassment as you squirmed beneath him, tugging down your dress again to cover yourself. Naoya grabbed your wrist, capturing the other and holding them in one hand as he pulled your dress up again. “There’s no reason to hide from me; I’ve seen you naked plenty of times.”

“Naoya,” you sobbed gently, struggling to pull your wrists free and failing. “P-Please stop. Just let me g-go.” He ignored your pleas, hiking your dress up higher, moving it past your tummy before tucking it over your breasts. Your skin prickled once it was exposed to the cool air, body shuddering for multiple reasons. You sniffled, looking back at Naoya once you heard him sigh, gulping when you saw how he stared down at you.

“You even got a matching bra.” His free hand trailed along the lace edge, skimming over your breast with his rough fingers. “You really planned this out, huh? Did you think you were gonna get lucky tonight?” His hand cupped your breast, giving it a lazy squeeze as you whimpered. “I bet you did. I bet you were hoping he would bring you back home and fuck you real good.” His hand gripped harder, making you cry out, trying to shake his hand off. “But he didn’t. He left you all alone without any kind of warning or remorse.” You hiccupped, still sobbing as his hand trailed down your waist, palming your hip. You felt bile building in the back of your throat, making you nauseous, making you want to curl up and die.

It wasn’t until he pressed his hand to your mound that you really started to panic.

“Let me go!” you yelled, thrashing in his grasp, trying to push him off. Your efforts were for nothing: Naoya was much stronger than you and kept you in his grasp with ease. You felt fear settle in your chest when he tugged at your white panties, pulling it down your hips, freezing.

“Oh my God,” he muttered, eyes wide, mouth hung open. “You even shaved your pussy for him—”

“What do you want, Naoya?! What kind of sick joke is this?!” He ignored you, brushing his fingers over your mound, marveling at the soft skin there.

“You’ve never shaved your pussy for me before…” His expression turned sour, eyebrows furrowed, lips tugging downward. “That’s not fair. I’ve done more than Toji ever has, but you never shaved for me once. What kind of bullshit is that? What’s he got that I don’t, hm? What makes him so special?”

“Naoya, please—j-just leave me alone, okay? I won’t ignore you anymore a-and I’ll be nicer and—”

He shushed you soothingly, caressing your upper pussy before dipping his thumb between your chubby lips. You gasped, flailing beneath him, whining in protest but he didn’t stop. He pushed further, finding your clit and circling it determinedly. You jolted involuntarily, hips pushing into the bed to try and run away from his touch, but he only followed you, pushing harder against your clit.

“N-Naoya, please—ah!” He flicked your clit faster, pushing his knees in between yours, forcing your legs apart. “No, Naoya, stop—”

“Shhh, calm down, princess.” His thumb was replaced with his palm, middle finger circling your puckered entrance. You sobbed, shaking your head, kicking at the sheets. You gasped when his finger pushed into you, biting your lip when he curled it instantly, hitting your sweet spot as his palm ground on your clit. “Tsk. Don’t bite your tongue, baby. You know I like to hear you.”

“You’re crazy,” you bawled, choking on your sobs and involuntary moans. “I-I don’t want this, this is rape, it—”

“Oh please,” Naoya groaned, pulling his finger out and holding it up to the light. “Look at how wet you are already. You can’t pretend like you don’t want this when you’re leaking like this.”

“That’s not how that works—”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not rape if you like it.” Naoya ignored your continued protests, staring at the glistening slick covering his finger and palm, hesitantly bringing it to his lips and giving it a tentative lick. He pulled his tongue back in his mouth, engulfing his mouth in your essence before he wrapped his lips around his finger and sucked it clean. Who knew that a brat like you could actually taste good? Who knew that any woman’s pussy would actually taste good?

Naoya never thought he would want to eat a woman’s pussy, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.

Naoya held onto you tight as he rearranged the two of you. He was lying down in front of your cunt, underwear discarded as his forearms kept your legs open, hands still holding your wrists tightly. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t get out of his grasp, couldn’t wiggle away or hit him or run off. You were stuck there, completely at his mercy as he began nosing your mound.

“You’re awful,” you coughed, inhaling sharply when he pressed a soft kiss against your bare pussy. “You’re the worst. I h-hate you—uuuuu!”

Naoya’s tongue pressed between your folds, dragging from your clit down to your entrance, prodding at your soaked hole. You whined, clenching unconsciously, eyes squeezed shut as he traced your entrance languidly. He swallowed the slick that had gathered on his tongue, licking his lips and humming softly.

“You don’t taste too bad. Must eat a lot of pineapple, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you spit, glaring down at him, your streaked eyeliner making you less intimidating.

“So feisty,” he murmured, pressing his nose into your mound, moving his head back and forth until his mouth was on your clit. “Let’s see how you act once you cum a couple times.”

He kissed your clit, eyes softening when you keened and wiggled your hips, unsure if you were pushing closer or trying to run away. It didn’t really matter: he wrapped his lips around you regardless, sucking your clit into his mouth, savoring the twitch of your hips. It let him know that you really were enjoying yourself like he believed.

He wasn’t very good at giving head, to be honest. It was probably due to his lack of experience but he made up for it with sheer determination, keeping his mouth in an ‘O’ shape around your clit and sucking at it like a straw. You tried to disassociate as he ate your pussy, but he wouldn’t let you zone out for long, dipping his tongue into your entrance and slurping up the liquid gold spilling out of you.

It took a while to get you to your peak, but eventually your legs were tensing, thighs shaking against the sides of his face. Your protests had melted into disgruntled moans, your lip tugged between your teeth to try and calm you down, to somehow muffle your eager noises. Your fingers flexed, hands twisting in his grasp as you struggled not to cum on his tongue.

It was no use. Your climax rose higher and higher, ultimately causing you to tumble over and tremble as you came on his tongue. He lapped you up as you fell apart, moaning into your cunt as he did so. He slurped up every drop you gave him, pushing his tongue inside of you and swirling it around, trying to drink up as much of you as he could. Your whines turned high-pitched, almost needy as he went back to your clit. Your hands squirmed, arms struggling in their hold.

“If you’re good and don’t interrupt me,” he mumbled as he came up for air, “I’ll let your hands go.” You swallowed, tucking your chin to stare down at him, weighing your options.

“…F-Fine,” you grumbled, sighing once he released your wrists and grabbed your thighs instead. You gasped when he immediately went back to your clit, licking the bud quickly as you pawed at the sheets. “W-Wait, don’t—s-slow down—ah!”

This felt like revenge—at least to Naoya—holding you down and taking you however he pleased, showing you how foolish you were for pining after his stupid cousin when he was so much better. You didn’t need anyone else, just him. He could please you better than any of those other silly boys could, especially a no-good punk like Toji. He just needed to remind you how good he could make you feel.

It wasn’t until after your second orgasm that you relented, hands finding his hair, running through the two-toned strands and tugging whenever he hit your sweet spots. He was surprised to find that he liked it, liked being trapped between your plush legs, liked the warm soft skin of your thighs pressed against his cheeks. Maybe he’d have to do this again for you in the future—if you were good, that is.

“N-No, Naoya, stop, please, I-I c-can’t—” you blubbered as your third orgasm grew nearer, inching closer and closer as you tried to push him off. Naoya didn’t budge from his spot, keeping his arms locked around your legs as he worked his tongue against you. He could feel your walls fluttering around his tongue, his thumb circling your clit faster as he urged you to cum in his mouth once more. You protested, pushing at his head to no avail, hips bucking up into his mouth. “W-Wait, I ca-aaaann’tt!!”

Your body shuddered as you came once more, back arching off the bed as you squirted all over him. Naoya’s eyes widened, grip on your legs loosening as he removed his mouth, propping himself up on his elbows. He stared down at you incredulously, eyes darting from your cunt to your soaked thighs to the wet patch that was growing on your sheets.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, tilting his head up to gaze at you. “You squirted for me, baby.”

You were panting harshly, chest rising and falling frantically as you struggled to calm down. You could feel your pulse in yours ears, your head dizzy, eyes unfocused as your climax faded. You heard the faint shuffle of clothes as you stared at the ceiling, vision hazy as you swallowed thickly, moaning tiredly. You whimpered once Naoya’s fingers found your clit again, rolling it around gently.

“N-Naoya, please… I’m tired—”

“I know, princess, I know, but you’ve been such a good girl for me tonight.” You felt something firm and hot press against your entrance, panic running through you as you looked up at him. “Gonna let me put it in, right?”

“W-Wait,” you rushed, hands finding his shoulders, your brain still foggy from your post-orgasm bliss. “We need a c-condom—”

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby. I’ll pull out.”

“B-But what about STD’s—”

“Aw, baby. You’re the only girl I’ve ever fucked without a condom. Ain’t no need to worry.” He dragged the head of his cock along your folds, catching it against your clit, smirking when you mewled. “Just lemme make you feel good, princess. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

Naoya pushed the head in without another warning, making you gasp in response. You instinctually tightened around him, making him suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hissed as he pushed forward slowly, giving you time to adjust to his length. “Missed this sweet lil pussy so much. God, I shoulda fucked you raw sooner, you feel so fucking good—"

“Naoya, n-no, stop, pull out—”

“Shhh, relax baby. C’mere,” he hushed, bringing his lips down to yours, forcing you into a kiss. You moaned frustratedly, lips smashed shut as he tried licking into your mouth to no avail. He pulled away an inch, frowning down at you. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that. Open up for me.” His thumb found your clit again, circling hypnotically and making you swoon. Your eyes rolled back slightly, mouth threatening to hang open but falling closed again. Naoya clicked his tongue, his nose pressing against your cheek.

“C’mon, Y/N. Be my good girl and open up. Lemme see that pretty pink tongue.” You whimpered when his thumb moved faster, hurtling you into a sea of pleasure, wave after wave of ecstasy washing over you. You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you met Naoya’s gaze. “That’s it, open up a lil more… mm-hm, more… c’mon baby, open… open—there she is. There’s my good girl.”

Naoya’s lips found yours once more, swallowing your needy moans as he rolled his hips ever so slightly, grinding the head of his cock into your g-spot incessantly. You keened at the onslaught of attention, legs squeezing around his waist as his tongue swirled around yours. You could feel yet another orgasm building, and you knew that he could feel it too. He sped up just a bit, his free hand going down to squeeze your ass, making you mewl and buck your hips up into his. Naoya moaned into your mouth, pulling back with a guttural groan.

“Fuuuuck, that’s it, baby. Grind those hips on me just like that.” Your cries had long subsided, molding into desperate moans as you succumbed to your desires, rolling your hips into his. The two of you began a steady rhythm together, pulling back and pushing forward to meet each other, grinding your sex against one another. You hated to admit it, but it felt good, really good. Maybe two weeks had been far too long for you to go without sex, or maybe it was just because it was your shitty neighbor and not your vibrator. Regardless, the constant friction was lighting you on fire, your hips slowing as you chose to clench around his cock instead.

“Awww, are you getting tired already, baby? You want me to take over? Hm? Ya want Daddy to make you feel good?” You cringed inwardly at the nickname, but you were so eager to cum that you couldn’t be bothered to scold him for it. Instead you nodded, biting your lip and humming in agreement, much to his satisfaction.

“Good girl. You just lie there and let me do all the work, ‘kay?” He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed the back of your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest without warning. You wheezed slightly as your legs were folded into your chest, restricting your lung capacity. You would’ve complained about the new position, but Naoya had bottomed out inside you, knocking the air right out of you. You yelped at the pace he found, the new angle making you see stars, vision laced with white sparks. You were so enraptured by the drag of his cock along your inner walls that you barely processed him pulling your dress up over your head, struggling to unclasp your bra before pulling it off and tossing it over his shoulder.

“God, I missed your tits,” he groaned, palming them harshly, squeezing like he’d never get to touch them again. “Been thinkin’ bout these beauties all week. Shame on you for keepin em from me.”

“N-Naoya—ah!” He engulfed one of your nipples with his mouth, sucking hard, nibbling just a bit. The sudden attention on your breasts made your pussy pulsate around him, yearning for yet another release. “Naoya… p-please, I—hnng!”

“What’s the matter, baby?” he cooed, circling his tongue around your now perky nipple, staring you down all the while. “Does it feel good? You want somethin?”

“Mm… wanna c-cum…” Naoya sighed shakily at that, licking his lips before latching them around your nipple once more, giving it a good hard suck before pulling away with a wet ‘pop’.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, slowing down and readjusting himself so that he was pushing your legs further into you. You whined, struggling to move yourself underneath him, huffing when you couldn’t so much as wiggle in his grasp. He merely smirked down at you, running his tongue over his teeth. “You wanna cum, baby? Wanna cream all over this fat cock?”

“Mm-hmmm,” you moaned unabashedly, too frantic to cum to care about your pride. His smile only grew, eyes softening as he leaned down towards you, brushing his nose against yours.

“Yeah you do. You wanna squirt all over this dick, dontcha?” Whatever response you gave didn’t matter: his lips were on yours within a second, moaning into your mouth and drowning out your pleas for him to make you cum. Luckily, you didn’t need to beg. Within a minute he was rolling his hips into you again, the head of his cock dangerously close to your cervix, leaving you breathless. Your nails dug into his shoulders, scrambling down his back for some kind of purchase as he found a steady rhythm, fast and hard enough to leave you whimpering with each thrust.

“Mmmm… fuck, that’s a good girl,” he breathed as he released your lips, staring down between the two of you to watch your belly squish against his abs as he pounded into your poor cunt. “You always take my cock so well. Almost like you were made for me.” He sucked in a breath when your cunt clenched around him, smirking down at your lustful expression. “You like that, huh? You like it when you belong to me, my perfect lil princess? Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You whined, swallowing hard and gasping, chanting his name like a broken hymn as he sped up. His balls slapped incessantly against your ass, wet smacking sounds filling the room. Your slick was leaking down to the bed, soaking your ass and inner thighs. It was almost uncomfortable if not for the constant rhythm Naoya had maintained for the last… wait, how long had it been? Fuck, it could’ve been five minutes or an hour; you had no clue. You could barely focus on Naoya’s words let alone the passage of time.

“Never letting this pussy go again,” he groaned, tossing his head back as he did a few long strokes into you, quickly going back to his original pace. “Nobody’s gonna fuck you but me from this day forward, got it?”

You whimpered, giving a hurried nod as you felt your orgasm start to build, the coil in your belly winding tight at his words.

“Good girl. You’re all mine; nobody else’s. Fuck, you feel so good baby. Makes me not wanna pull out of this perfect pussy.”

The logical part of you should’ve scolded him for having that idea in the first place, but you were high on cloud nine, your cunt clenching at the mention of something so taboo. Did you want him to cum inside you? No, not necessarily, but the thought of him enjoying your body so much that he couldn’t help but stay inside while he came made you go wild. The resulting moan you let out and the prolonged tightening of your cunt was all the answer he needed.

“Fuck, you like that? Is that what you want, princess? Want me to cum inside instead? Want me to breed that tight lil cunt of yours?” You clenched around him again, trembling as your climax grew nearer. “Yeah, I know you do, baby. You want me to cum inside and make you all mine, huh? Want me to give you a baby and make you a mommy? Fuck, I’d take such good care of you, princess, you and our baby. Get you a big ole house with a dog and a picket fence—fuck, I’m close—anything you want, baby. You just give me a couple boys and I’ll do the rest, okay?”

His hand slipped between the two of you, thumb suffocating your clit as his hips moved faster, fucking deeper into you (if that was even possible at this point). It was just what you needed to push you over the edge, hurtling you towards your peak so quickly you began to panic. You came hard, scratching along his back and shoulders, crying out as he continued bullying your cunt. The resulting pleasure was so intense it brought tears to your eyes, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he kept going, groaning into your chest.

“God, yes, yesyesyesyesyes, fuck! Gonna cum in you, gonna get you pregnant, fuck, you’re gonna be so pretty all round with my kids—”

You hiccupped, letting out a strangled moan when he bit down on your breast. He groaned loudly, hips stuttering, hands clawing at your plump flesh desperately as he came to a stop. You felt his cum fill you up, hot and thick liquid gushing into your spongey cunt, stuffing you to the brim. He gave a lazy thrust or two as he sucked on the bite he made, licking it as some kind of apology. He sighed into your skin, lifting his head a moment later, foggy eyes meeting yours.

“You… you okay?” he breathed, blinking slowly up at you. You were still breathing heavily, but you nodded anyways, tongue thick and dry. He sighed when you answered, lifting himself up just so he could reach your lips, kissing you gently. It was the softest kiss he had ever given you, tender and light, as if you were made of porcelain. You relaxed as his lips molded with yours, your eyes drooping heavily until you couldn’t open them back up.

It was dark when you woke up. You were on your stomach (when did you turn over?), sweating underneath your heavy comforter. You shifted slightly, instinctually tightening around whatever was inside you, earning a groan from the figure beneath you.

“If you keep doing that,” Naoya grunted, hands finding your hips to still them completely, “I’m gonna get hard again.”

Holy shit, his sleepy voice was deep, gruff and sensual. You’d never heard him like that before. It made your eyes open further, hands finding his chest, steadying yourself as you pushed yourself up to a seated position. You were somewhat hazy, but you were able to lean towards your nightstand, turning on your bedside lamp.

You both squinted when the light came on, eyes struggling to adjust to the new harsh lighting. You blinked a few times, looking down at the man lying underneath you, finally realizing that his dick was still inside you. You hated to admit it, but he looked pretty handsome after just waking up, his features still soft from slumber.

“…You slept over?” you asked rhetorically, rubbing at your eyes. He scoffed, hands kneading your plump waist, grinding you gently against him.

“Of course I did. Couldn’t just leave you all alone after you passed out from me fucking you.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, covering his mouth half-heartedly as your body burned with embarrassment. He merely chuckled, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away, kissing at your palm.

“Are you alright? I didn’t fuck you too hard, did I? I almost thought you died there—”

“I’m fine,” you huffed, yanking your hand away and glaring down at him. “Why didn’t you at least clean me up? I can feel your cum still inside me.” Naoya shrugged, his signature, shit-eating grin spreading across his lips.

“Wouldn’t that ruin the point of cumming inside? Gotta make sure my seed takes.” You blinked slowly, narrowing your eyes down at him.

“Naoya… what are you trying to say—”

“I hate the thought of having a shotgun wedding,” he continued, ignoring what you asked, staring at your stomach as he rubbed it gently, “but desperate times call for desperate measures. We can have a ceremony at one of my family’s hotels so at least that’s covered, but we should get you fitted for a dress soon so we can get married before you start showing—”

“Woahwoahwoah—” you rushed, eyes wide as you covered his mouth again. He furrowed his brow, mumbling something into your hand as you replayed what he said in your head. “Hold on… Do you… Naoya, you do realize that I’m on birth control, right?”

Silence permeated the room, growing thicker with each passing moment. Naoya’s eyes widened just a bit, mouth slightly ajar as he began to blush from his chest to the tips of his ears.

“…What? Since when?”

“What do you mean ‘since when’? I’ve had an IUD for years!”

“But—” Naoya huffed, propping himself on his elbows as he scowled at you. “If I couldn’t get you pregnant, then why did you always make me wear a condom?!”

“I don’t know where your dick has been! I wasn’t gonna risk getting some kind of infection or disease because of you.” He scoffed, fists clenching at his sides as he simmered angrily. You kept eye contact, thinking over his words carefully, a smile tugging at your lips. “Wait… so when you said all that shit during sex, it wasn’t just dirty talk? You actually wanted to get me pregnant?” He blushed darker, skin turning a brilliant scarlet as his face twisted ever so slightly. “Oh my God, you did—”

“Shut up,” he hissed, pushing at your hips. “Get offa me, I’m leavin—”

“Awww, don’t leave, Naoya,” you cooed, pushing down at his chest, forcing him to the mattress. “I thought you wanted to make me a mommy and take care of me—”

“Shut up—”

“Oh my, I can feel your dick getting hard—”

“STOP—"

[wibixthecowboy]

Play the Song: Part 6: A Little Quieter

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.  

UPDATED TAGS PLEASE READ

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, swearing, weapons, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, I can fix him he just needs a hug, warning for an excessively bad taste in music, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV

A/N: Here is the long chapter I promised you! Sorry its so late... I may have indulged in a glass of wine.. or two.. so after I re-edit tomorrow it might be an entirely new chapter. OKAY IM DONE TALKING NOW ENJOY!

Words: 4.2k 

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

★Flash

Flash wakes quietly, eyes blinking open to see a dark expanse of a desert, and she has a blissful few moments of tranquility before her dreams come rushing back.

Her cheeks flush when she turns to Ghost, there was no way he could tell what her dreams had been about, but the thought of him somehow seeing the rated R images her mind conjured up horrifies her. Being so busy at the academy, even with her own room, leaving little time to indulge in more carnal desires. It had been years since Flash had even kissed someone, meaning it took an embarrassingly small amount of action to light the candle nestled between her thighs. In her defense, Ghost wasn’t much better, when he had stood between her knees that first night, Flash could see the way his hands shook with nerves and the uneven rise and fall of his chest. If it hadn’t been for his tense posture when leaving the bathroom, she would have guessed he’d, well, relieved himself. The thought of him getting off to her has Flash pressing her thighs together in embarrassment. Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.

Once she’s collected her thoughts enough to focus on their surroundings, Flash notices the music is playing again, this time at a lower volume. She smiles softly at the image of him turning on her music and flipping through the songs.

“Do you like the music?” She murmurs, stifling a yawn with her hand. Ghost turns quickly to look at her, he must’ve not noticed her earlier fidgeting. He clears his throat before answering. Flash finds his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m usually too busy to think about listening to music,” He drums his fingers against the wheel once before continuing. His voice is softer this time, “Yes I’m enjoying it.”

Flash feels her smile grow at his admittance, giddy at the idea of him opening up, to her no less. She wants to press, to ask him about his favorite genre, if he has one, or if he’s ever listened to ABBA (a personal favorite of hers). But she schools her excitement, knowing pushing would get her nothing. She chooses a safer response.

“I’m glad.” She resists the urge to reach out and touch him, fingers itching to peel the mask up over the cut on his chin and patch it up herself, the blood has soaked through the dark material and wound a path down his neck. She instead settles on resting her head against the seat to watch him as he drives, doing her best to ignore his exposed forearms and the way they flex whenever he makes a turn.

“Me too.” This new side of Ghost has Flash melting into her seat, the gruff man that was shoving her to the side just the day before was peacefully sitting next to her listening to Fleetwood Mac. Oh, the wonders of the world.

_____

Even in the dark, Flash is still able to see the rough outline of the compound. The area is dimly lit with small orange lights glowing around the perimeter of the concrete building, giving it an almost halo effect. It’s a lot smaller than she was expecting, dwarfed by the staggering height of the academy, the compound and its attached airport were pitiful.

When Ghost stops the van in front of the building he’s quick to step out and start towards the compound, leaving Flash scrambling to collect her things and jog after him.

“What’s with the rush big guy?” She says, feeling more at ease after their less than life changing conversation.

“I have things I need to do.” His tone is short and as soon as he finishes, Flash realizes that the sort of comradery that they had going in the van was no longer an option, her smile falters a bit, but she doesn’t let it ruin her entire mood.

While they were still in their friendship arc, Ghost had told her about Gaz. He’d mentioned that they might get along well, as long as she didn’t take his title. It took her a few minutes of pestering and promising to be silent for the rest of the ride to get Ghost to admit that Gaz is the proclaimed baby of the group. Supposedly, Price let him have first dibs on seconds. She made a bet that she’d have his spot in less than three days, and she was ready to get her 20 dollars.

Ghost holds the door open for her and watches as she thumps through the small space with her bag. When she turns to thank him, he’s already made it halfway down a hallway to their left. Flash huffs a breath in his direction and turns back to survey the large room in front of her. It's cozier than she was expecting. Although the room is made entirely of concrete, a handful of mismatched rugs make it feel less industrial. To her right, opposite the hallway of doors, is a small kitchen, separated from the rest of the room with a curved counter space. It has a small stove, fridge, and a table that looks like it's been taken out of an REI magazine with its bench seats. Further into the space, there’s a cobbled together living room, two worn armchairs facing a hideous orange loveseat.

There's three men there now, watching a black and white film on the small tv perched atop a rickety wardrobe. All three turn to look at Flash when the door closes loudly behind her. She gives them a sheepish smile.

“Hi?”

“Flash!” Soap jumps over the arm of the loveseat and walks towards her. “I thought we agreed Ghost was going to leave you with the cargo.” He teases.

When he gets close enough, Flash shoves his shoulder.

“And I here I thought I’d finally found my team.” She retorts and relishes in the pinch of his brow. He opens his mouth but a hand clamps down on his shoulder before he can speak. Vargas, or Alejandro as Ghost had called him in the van, steps around Soap to smile at Flash.

“If it isn’t our little Protector de Fantasmas.” He says slyly.

It takes Flash a moment but when she’s able to decipher what he said her body stiffens.

“Relax Rubia, word spreads fast around here.” Alejandro leans against Soap’s shoulder with an elbow, much to his annoyance. “He told me you had two of his men down before Ghost had recovered. That’s some impressive work.”

“I didn’t end up here by getting lucky.” She says and immediately regrets it. Flash is so used to defending her position that she doesn’t even recognize his words as a compliment, but from the earnest look on his face, she can tell he means it.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” He says with a half smile and Flash returns it in full, hoping it would smooth over her harsh comment.

Soap clears his throat and shoves Alejandro’s arm off his shoulder, supposedly done with their conversation. He turns away from her to gesture at the third man who is hovering a few feet away from the group.

“Flash, this is Gaz.”

He’s younger than she expected, and cuter too. He looks like a cover model for an airport magazine, bronzed skin and perfectly straight teeth that make her flush when he smiles. A classic case of too handsome to be human. She wants to ask him what position he played on his high school rugby team but decides against it at the last minute. First impressions are important.

“Hi.” She says and sticks a hand out, kicking herself for being so formal.

He takes her hand but instead of shaking it, he pulls her into a hug, clapping her on the back a few times. Flash is so close she can smell the remnants of his cologne, she can’t quite place it, but it brings her back to the Hollister across from her favorite smoothie shop.

When he releases her, the bag hanging from her hand weighs a few more pounds, and her cheeks burn a bit hotter.

“Welcome to the team Flash.” Gaz bumps against Soap’s shoulder a bit rougher than necessary. “I’m excited to have someone to talk to from this century.”

Soap shoves him back and gives him a pointed glare,

“What the fuck do ya’ mean?”

“I mean,” Gaz gets out between his laughter, “I don’t always want to hear about your suffering during the potato famine.”

Flash laughs loudly at this, once again basking in Soap's wounded expression. Maybe she would have to become allies with Gaz instead. Alejandro shakes his head at them before interrupting their squabble.

“I’m heading out if this is what our conversations have divulged.” He grabs his things from the endearingly rustic table and salutes Flash. “See you soon Rubia.”

She salutes back and ignores Soap and Gaz’s offended looks, watching Alejandro leave through the same door she and Ghost had entered through.

“Let me show you to your room,” Gaz says, apparently done with his pestering, and Flash realizes halfway through a yawn, how tired she is.

“That would be amazing.” She says with a sleepy smile.

Gaz leads her and a moping Soap down the same hallway Ghost had disappeared through and stops in front of the second to the last door.

“This will be your room for now,” He gestures to the solid oak door and grimaces before continuing, “The building was not built with the expectation of women so the bathroom is shared between two rooms. I’m sure you and Ghost can figure out a system.”

Flash’s eyes widen at his words. She’d be sharing a bathroom with Ghost? Jesus have mercy on her poor soul.

“Ghost? You mean I can’t share with you? Or Price?” Gaz seems to catch onto her panic and lets out a barking laugh.

“No sadly I have to share a bathroom with this pig of a man,” He says and kicks Soap in the foot. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. “And Price got the only room with an attached bathroom.”

Flash curses and takes a steeling breath. This is far from the worst thing she’s endured. But the idea of sharing such an intimate space with such a private person has her heart racing.

“I’m sure it won't be much different from your dorms.” Soap says and Flash can’t believe she’s gotten both pity and reassurance from the two. She really must have drawn the short straw.

“I had my own rooms at the academy.” She grumbles and both men look at her in disbelief so she awkwardly pieces together an explanation, “When you’re young and better than a lot of men, they like to find ways to keep their ego inflated. Nothing too bad ever happened. It was more of a precaution.”

Flash feels awkward opening up to two people she’s known less than a week, but it gives her a sense of relief to finally tell someone. Soap gives her a sad smile and Gaz rests a warm hand on her shoulder.

“You won't have to worry about that here then. Go in and get settled, we already ate but you’re free to have whatever’s in the fridge.” Gaz gives her another one of his dazzling smiles and turns to leave with Soap.

Flash is quick to shut herself in the room, already blinking back tears. So this is what they meant when the other recruits talked about finding a family. All of her years of training suddenly feel worth it.

She bites her tongue as another wave of emotion rolls over at the sight of her room. It actually looks like a bedroom. A large bed takes up most of the space, framed by two small nightstands, and a plain oak wardrobe rests against the far wall next to a full mirror. It's simple, but the warm light spilling from the bedside lamp ties the room together with a gold bow.

What she see’s next though, has her heart leaping into her throat. Her iPod has been set on the nightstand, next to the carefully wrapped shape of her headphones that she’d so carelessly left in the van. He’d been in here?

Flash sets her bag on the bed before walking carefully through the door to her left, not wanting to risk a creaking board under the carpet. They definitely didn’t hold back this time. A long counter with two porcelain sinks stretches the distance of the bathroom, across from it, there’s not only a standing shower but a large clawfoot bathtub. It's been years since Flash has taken a real bath and she nearly caves at the sight of it. The door at the far side of the room keeps her focused. Still stepping lightly, she stops right in front of the door and raises her fist to knock against it. She hesitates at first, her fist only gliding across the wood surface before she’s knocking harder.

There’s no answer at first, but when she knocks again she hears a muffled come in. Flash falters for a moment, she hadn’t prepared for him to actually answer. She takes a deep breath and turns the handle, pushing the door open.

The breath she’d taken is immediately knocked from her chest when she sees Ghost writing at a desk. He’s dressed down to a tight black shirt and a pair of jeans, an outfit that despite its conservativeness, has Flash feeling like she needs to cover her eyes. The balaclava is crooked at his neck, obviously hastily put on, and the thought of him sitting just a room away without it makes her stomach flip.

“Can I help you?” His rough voice has whatever sad excuse Flash had for interrupting him flying out of her head. She recovers quickly though.

“I wanted to thank you for bringing my things in.” She says quietly and he just shrugs, not looking up from his journal.

Flash hovers for a second, looking around his room in hopes to find another conversation starter. Ghost’s room is nearly identical to hers, sans desk. His bed is rumpled but the rest of his room is in near perfect condition. When her eyes land on the small stack of books on his wardrobe she sees her opportunity.

“Could I borrow a book?” He does look up at this, wordlessly glancing between her and the stack. “I forgot my charger and I have a hard time falling asleep without my music. Maybe if I read I can bore myself to sleep, not that you’re books are boring! I just mean it might be relaxing.” She knows she’s rambling but she’s to distracted by the tilt of his head to care.

“Go ahead.” He says, waving a careless hand toward them and returning to his task

Flash quickly walks to the stack, grabs the first one, and retreats back to the doorway. It’s clear that he’s waiting for her to leave, but she can’t bring herself to shut the door behind her.

“How does your chin feel? That guy hit you pretty hard.” She says hesitantly.

“I cleaned it.” Ghost huffs in an uninterested tone.

“Are you sure? It looked bad from where I was sitting.”

There are a few seconds of silence and during them, Flash watches Ghost relax a bit further into the wooden chair.

“I’m fine Flash” His voice is softer now, and when he says her name, a warm shiver runs up her spine.

“Okay then, well, goodnight?” It comes out as more of a question and she kicks herself for being so easily affected. He doesn’t respond right away and she’s about to close the door when he finally speaks up,

“Goodnight.” She almost misses it, but when she hears his quiet reply she practically slams the door shut, running through the bathroom and throwing herself onto the bed.

It takes a tremendous amount of strength to peel herself from the covers to clean up in the bathroom and it takes even more to not look at every product he has next to the sink and in the shower.

When she's finally settled, old western novel in hand, she doesn't even make it through the first page before nodding off.

______

Their little dance goes on like this for the next two weeks. Despite her constant protesting, Flash is left at the compound to train with Price while Soap, Gaz, and Ghost run through several small busts. None of them memorable enough to recount when she comes barreling into his room upon his return. Her presence has become more bearable. After seeing their team's appointed psychiatrist, he’d been put on a heavier dose of anxiety medication. When Price found out, he insisted that Ghost also make a point to talk to the doctor about his problems. Claiming that their team needed him at his strongest. That's where he is today. Sitting in the conference room, now a makeshift therapy room.

Comforted by the notion of doctor-patient confidentiality, Ghost lets the hard set of his shoulders relax against the green armchair of the psychiatrists office. Opposite of him sitting at a large oak desk, Dr. Marks, a balding eccentric psychiatrist who he’d been becoming more familiar with over the last two weeks. The doctor sighs as he flips through the various medical records in Ghost’s file before closing it entirely and shoving it to the side of his desk.

“And you said that your only side effect has been trouble falling asleep?” He didn’t want to admit it, but the pills have been helping. He’s only taken them a handful of times since having the dosage upped, but they did their job a bit too well. With a clearer mind, Ghost is able to identify his source of panic much quicker, but that also meant that nights spent alone were filled with images that he simultaneously craved and loathed. That had been their topic of conversation this past week, Ghost’s unflinching desire for domestic life.

“Yes.” Ghost mutters.

“I can prescribe you a light sedative, nothing too strong, and in a small amount. You can refill it as you run out.” Dr. Marks leans back in his rather antique looking leather chair and rubs a hand against the silver scruff on his jaw, giving him that same sad smile. “I’m sure you can understand why.”

Ghost gives him a curt nod, not wanting to open up more room for discussion on the subject.

The doctor seems to pick up on it and swiftly changes the topic, already used to Ghost’s aversions to that certain page in his file.

“Have you thought any more about what I told you last session?” Dr. Marks asks softly.

“I’ve thought about it, yes.” Ghost says, avoiding eye contact by picking at the rough linen fabric of his own armchair.

“And?”

“It’s not going to happen.”

When Ghost looks up he can see the pity in the doctor's eyes. It’s seemingly the only way people know how to look at him like he's something that’s needing coddling. Except for her, and that’s his problem.

“There is still an opportunity for happiness, it’s in there Simon. When you’re ready to bear it, it will find its way back to you.”

“How can it find me if I can’t even find myself.” Ghost sags further into the cushion of the armchair, choosing to observe the dark wood grain of the desk rather than the eyes staring straight through him. He already regrets opening his mouth.

“You’re a lot closer to finding yourself than you think. Sometimes we need assistance though, and that’s okay.”

Ghost huffs a quiet laugh at his words and stands, ready to be out of the suddenly stifling atmosphere. Dr. Marks stands with him, reaching a hand across the table. When Ghost takes it, rather than shaking them, the doctor rests his other hand on top and gives their clasping hands a gentle squeeze.

“You’re still young. Don’t let your past control your future, it can be suffocating but you’re stronger than you think.” Dr. Marks gives him a kinder look now, one that has Ghost’s throat tightening. He needs to get out.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll let you know when the prescription comes in, I don’t have a small enough dose I can give you now but it shouldn’t be too long.” It’s again followed by the same ‘I feel guilty but don’t know what to say' look that he dreads so much.

Ghost gives him another nod and covers the space between his chair and the door in just a few strides, opening and closing it quickly without looking back.

Before he even reaches the doorway he can hear her laugh. A bright sound that warms his chest and leaves him a bit breathless. When he does walk into the room he sees Flash, Soap, and Gaz sitting around the kitchen table arguing over a card game. From the looks of it, Soap is losing, he’s slumped back against the wall glaring daggers at Gaz while drawing cards from the main deck.

Ghost turns to look at Price who is sitting in one of the two armchairs facing the kitchen, watching the three with a smile on his face. He strides over and takes the chair next to him.

“How’d it go?” Price’s eyes don’t leave the group.

“Better. I’m getting something to help with my sleep.” He says with a sigh.

Price does turn to look at him now, brows furrowing.

“We won’t have any problems will we?” Ghost feels the burn of shame on his cheeks.

“No. Small doses.”

“Good.”

They go silent after that. Both turn to focus back on the rowdy group. Ghost finds himself zoning in on Flash. Her laughter has turned the apples of her cheeks a rosy pink and even from across the room he can see the way her eyes shine. That same tingling tightness that has plagued Ghost for the past week returns at the sight, squeezing the breath out of his lungs in a warm embrace.

“She’s a sweet one that girl.” Price says, gesturing towards Flash with the bottle in his hand. “It makes me worry.”

Gaz, taking advantage of Soap’s bathroom break, has started slipping cards into his hand left on the table. Flash is bent at the waist laughing, wiping away tears, and begging Gaz to stop before he returns.

“I wouldn’t.” Ghost says distractedly. Price raises an eyebrow at him.

“You would know?” Price’s gaze softens as he takes in Ghost watching her. “You’ve taken a liking to her then?”

Ghost stiffens at his words but doesn’t bother arguing, Price is the only one he doesn’t bother lying to. He’s able to see through Ghost’s rough exterior wall too easily.

“You know I can’t.” Ghost's voice is a near whisper.

“It’s not against code, young as she is she’s just as much of a Lieutenant as you are.” Price says softly. Ghost turns to look at him, missing Soap’s boisterous reaction to his now deck of a hand.

“We both know it’s not that.” He mutters.

“You can’t shut everyone out forever Ghost.” Price says before taking a sip out of his bottle.

Ghost is about to tell Price that he absolutely can when a voice shouts across the room for him,

“C’mon Ghost! Come play with us!” Flash yells while beaming in his direction and Ghost feels his knees weaken at her excitement over him playing a game, it was usually quite the opposite. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d sat and listened to Soap and Gaz complain about having to be on his team. It was never done on purpose, but it still struck that small chord that rested at the base of his skull. The one that was currently urging him to take the seat next to Flash and forget about the warning sirens going off in every other part of his brain.

“I’m heading off to bed.” He says instead, knowing nothing good would come of it. Flash frowns at him for a moment but then shrugs her shoulders. He stands from the chair and starts towards the hallway of rooms.

“Awe well I’ll just take Soap up on his offer. He said we could go,” Flash scrunches her nose and turns a questioning gaze to Soap, ”what did you say?”

Soap looks at Ghost with a devilish smirk and even though he’s speaking to Flash, Soap keeps his eyes locked with Ghosts.

“I said we could go practice her poker with Alejandro’s boys.” Soap says simply. Ghost freezes and all earlier hesitation evaporates.

“How do you play the game?”

[autumnshighlady]

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 15)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Azriel has a tough decision to make

warnings: Night Court slander, semi graphic torture, Rhysand is horrible, the usual

word count: 5.8k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: oh my god i am so so so sorry this took so long! life has been insane lately i havent had the energy to write. Anywho, this chapter is just the start of something super big so buckle up and look for hints hehe alsO PLEASE GIVE FEEDBACK ON THIS CHAPTER IM BEGGING

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11

read on ao3

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AZRIEL POV

Azriel couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of your limp body, arms strung up like you were a piece of meat dangling from the chains. He had thought himself to be good at shutting off his emotions when it came to his line of work, but this felt different. Wrong, even. It confused him – not once had he ever hesitated, ever even considered disobeying his High Lord’s orders down in these dungeons.

Your hair was matted and lifeless around your face, the weak rise and fall of your chest being the only indication that you were even still alive. The beautiful gown that adorned your body at the ball was now tattered and dirty, barely clinging onto your skin in some places. Azriel gulped as he stared at your unconscious form, wiped out from Rhysand’s attempts to penetrate your mind.

Evidently, the High Lord was beyond frustrated, his brow furrowed and sweaty from the efforts. “I’ve never seen this,” He muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. “Not once. I’ve always been able to get inside people’s heads. Why not hers?”

“I don’t know.” Azriel responded. He felt his shadows curl around his scarred fingers. Normally they did so to encourage him to get the job done, but this time felt different. It was as if they wanted him not to end your life, but to reach out and free you from the shackles. But he ignored them.

Rhys slumped against the wall, panting slightly. “I need answers, Az.” He snapped, voice sharp. “How is this girl able to withstand my magic? And how the hell did she access some ancient spell that allowed this bond to form with Nesta? I would prefer to know before I end things, so whatever shit she may have put in motion can be stopped.”

Azriel stiffened. “End things?

The High Lord sighed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, Azriel. You know this is how it has to end. She spent months plotting against our court, and possesses some form of magic within her bond with Nesta. She’s a threat and you know it. And threats like that must be eliminated.”

He spoke with that authoritative voice that Azriel had seen bring so many others to their knees in obedience. He felt it tug at his bones, the instinct to obey his High Lord. Azriel had always considered himself loyal, never needing that extra kick to submit to his superior. Until now. “I disagree.” Azriel said sternly. “(Y/N) has lied, yes. But she has shown no signs of intending to inflict harm upon this court. All she wanted was to get out, and she knew we wouldn’t let her.”

“I don’t recall you being this blind, brother.” Rhysand’s voice was low as his violet eyes sternly stared down his spymaster. “Did she flash you her tits during training sessions? Is that why you’ve suddenly gone soft?”

“No. I think we pushed her too hard, too fast into this job she did not want. She had already lost everything in the Spring Court, and when Lucien brought her here she immediately became a prisoner. Did you expect her to bow at your feet and be eternally grateful for letting her stay here? We should have given her a reason to want to become a part of this court, not force her into it within a span of months.”

Rhysand let out a growl, and Azriel knew he was pushing his limits. “Careful, Az.” He said. But Azriel ignored him.

“Can you blame her for resenting us?” The shadowsinger continued, against his better judgement. “Our High Lady destroyed her court, and when Lucien brought her here she was forced to live indebted to the female who allowed her home to be ruined.”

There was a low rumble within the cell as Rhysand’s dark mist began to creep out from behind him. “Choose your next words wisely, Azriel. Or I’ll begin to think you’ve helped her.”

“I didn’t, and you know it. But your protectiveness for your mate is clouding your judgement as a leader, Rhysand. This girl does not deserve to die for what she has done.”

Before he could breathe another word, a sharp pain cut through his throat as Rhys’ dark power wrapped around it, cutting off his air. Shock flooded through him, hazel eyes bulging as the violet eyed male snarled at him. He didn’t try to fight back. Not once had his brother gone this far – sure, they had their fair share of nasty fights, but never like this. No matter how angry they had gotten with each other, neither had ever threatened the life of the other. Until now.

“That is not your call to make, spymaster.” Rhysand snarled furiously. “I am your High Lord before anything else, and you are sworn to me. My word is law, not yours. You will go and search for more insight into this bond between her and Nesta. Whether you find anything on it or not, (Y/N) will die by your hand at dawn tomorrow. You will not protest, and you will not breathe a word about this to anyone. If I sense even for a second that you will disobey me, I will throw you in a cell beside this scheming whore. Am I understood?”

Azriel nodded as best he could, body still frozen in shock. After a moment, Rhysand’s tendrils finally retreated, leaving the spymaster gasping for air. Despite working alongside him, being the executioner to his master for over 500 years, Azriel had never known what it was to be like on the receiving end of his High Lord’s pure fury until now. He glanced over at your strung-up figure, guilt churning in his gut. You had endured this torture for days, a torture Azriel only received a glimpse of.

As the spymaster inhaled deeply kneeling on the cold floor, his shadows whispered to him. He knew deep down that he had a choice to make, one like never before. 500 years of loyalty to Rhysand was being put to the test, something Azriel never thought would happen. Another glance at how intensely Rhys was staring at your imprisoned, starved form was all he needed to winnow away.

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

Azriel’s throat still burned from the pressing of Rhys’ dark mist. He kept his demeanour calm as he approached the doors to the library at the House of Wind, even though his stomach was in a thousand knots. He knew what he was about to do was treason at the highest order, and the second Rhys found out he would be flayed alive. The clenching and unclenching of his scarred fingers was the only indication of his disturbance as the spymaster was met with Clotho. Her pale robes shone in the blue light of the library as she approached him.

Shadowsinger, Her elegant writing appeared on the paper in lieu of her voice. What can I do for you?

“I need to see Gwyneth.” Azriel said, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice to not alarm the priestess.

Gwyn is occupied right now. May I take a message?

He gulped nervously. “I’m really sorry, Clotho. But I need her right now.”

That will not be possible. I suggest you return at another time, Azriel.

“Please.” Azriel hated begging, and hated pushing the priestess even more. But before Clotho could script a reply, a gentle voice sounded from behind the shelves a few metres away.

“Azriel?” Gwyn’s red hair appeared, streaming down her flowing robes as she carried an alarming amount of books. “What are you doing here?”

“Gwyn, I need to speak with you in private. Right now.” He pleaded, hoping Clotho wouldn’t shoo him away.

Gwyn’s teal eyes were puzzled, but she nodded. “It’s alright Clotho.” The priestess merely nodded beneath her hood before turning and disappearing back into the stacks.

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as Gwyn put down the books. She walked towards one of the offices, and he followed her in silence. The room was tense as she closed the door behind him.

She crossed her arms, which made him halt. Normally his interactions with Gwyn were pleasant, leaving his shadows singing happily afterwards. But the way she was staring at him with a hardened glare made him want to shrink back.

“Where is (Y/N)?” Gwyn said sharply.

Azriel took a deep breath, unsure of how to approach this. He didn’t know what version of that night at the Hewn City had reached the ears of the priestesses. “Gwyn–”

“Don’t bullshit me for one second, Azriel.” The redhead was unyielding, but he could see the anxiousness within her as her throat bobbed with every word. “Nesta left for Autumn with Eris, but (Y/N) never returned from the Hewn City that night. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything–” He started, but Gwyn cut him off abruptly.

“I said don’t bullshit me, you fucking liar!” Her voice rose, long fingers clenching and trembling with anger. It was enough to make Azriel take a step back, shocked at the fire within her. “I heard you grabbed her and whisked her away that night. What the hell did you do to my friend?”

Azriel leaned against the desk, wiping his face with his hand. His heart cracked a bit, knowing that trust and companionship he had built with Gwyn while training had come crashing down. He hated himself for it, for being so blind in following orders that led him to this place. His loyalty to Rhysand came at a price, one he had always been willing to pay until now. “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I was following orders.”

“What is wrong with you?” Gwyn hissed, her words cutting him sharper than Rhysand’s magic had. “You took away her one chance of leaving this gods damned court peacefully. You took away her freedom out of stupid, blind loyalty.”

“How did you know what happened that night?”

She snorted. “You and your little circle like to treat us priestesses like we’re these fragile little flowers living in our own little shelter, oblivious to the outside world. But people talk, and word reaches us. We aren’t as ignorant to the court as you think we are.”

“I never said that you were.”

“You basically just did.”

Shame washed over Azriel. He knew she was right, that he was a prick in assuming the priestesses remained clueless to what was happening in the court right now. And that’s why Clotho had been hesitant to let him into the library. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” He muttered, closing his eyes.

“Well, it did. Now tell me where my friend is, and why you’re here.”

Azriel took a breath, preparing to utter the words that would make this decision the point of no return. “I need everything you have on the bond between (Y/N) and Nesta.”

A flicker of worry crossed Gwyn’s teal eyes. “I don’t know anything–”

“Yes, you do.” Azriel interrupted her calmly. “My guess is you knew about their plan as well. Otherwise you’d be a lot more freaked out by Nesta marrying Eris.”

As panic began to set into the priestess’ face, Azriel softened his voice. “It’s ok, I’m not going to tell anyone. It makes sense that any information that Nesta and (Y/N) got on the bond was through you and your work. You are not in trouble, and nobody will hear from me that you helped them. I just need every scrap of information you were able to get your hands on regarding whatever magic they used.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So you can give it to your master like a good dog playing fetch? Not gonna happen. He’ll use it to hurt both of them. I don’t care that he’s the High Lord, I won’t let him do that.”

Azriel stood up and took a step towards Gwyn. She didn’t shrink back, but rather lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Gwyn,” He began. “That’s not what this is. I’m not retrieving this information for Rhysand.”

The priestess blinked once, as if considering the gravity of his words. He wished he could spill the truth and tell Gwyn what he planned to do, but just uttering those words directly to her would put her at risk. “Then who are you retrieving it for?”

“Look, I am not trying to hide anything from you. But I told you… if you knew the truth, I would be putting you at risk for selfish reasons. And after all I have done, that is something I cannot live with. You just have to trust me when I say that it is for the right reason.”

“After hearing about how you so quickly stole (Y/N) away, I’m not sure if we have the same definition of the right reason, Azriel.” Gwyn’s voice was bitter, but there was a sadness to it that made the guilt churning inside of him threaten to spill over.

“I understand.” He said quietly. “And you have no reason to trust me right now. But please… if you’ve ever had any faith in me at all…just….just know that I’m doing this for (Y/N). And Nesta. If you believe anything I say, believe that.”

Silence overtook the room, the shadowsinger and the priestess standing mere inches from each other. After a long few minutes Gwyn muttered a ‘stay here’ before quickly fleeing the office.

She returned 15 minutes later with a few sheets of parchment paper and several books. They were placed upon the dusty table, and Gwyn took a deep breath. “This is everything I have on the subject,” She said shakily. “It’s not much, but it’s every document that could possibly give anything away about the bond between them.”

Without thinking, Azriel dropped to his knees in relief, bowing his head. “Thank you, Gwyn. Thank you.” His entire body was on the verge of shaking as the weight of what he was about to do began to truly set in. Everything he had known and defended was about to be put on the line.

“Promise me this, Azriel.” Gwyn spoke coldly. “Promise that this information gets into the right hands, not the wrong ones. You do whatever it takes to help my girls. After everything you and your family have done to them, you owe them that much. And more.”

“I swear it.” Azriel said solemnly, still looking at the ground. In a flash, he felt a cold blade pressing against his jaw, tilting his head upwards to gaze at the priestess. She looked like a goddess of justice, staring down at him with icy eyes.

“And I swear this to you,” Gwyn said coldly, a silver dagger in hand. “If you screw this up and they pay the price for it, no power in the world will stop me from hurting you. I don’t care that you trained me, or that you saved me on that day Hybern came. I will cut your throat if anything happens to Nesta or (Y/N) because of you. Understood?”

Azriel was enthralled at her strength. This was not the shy, nervous priestess that he had rescued from Hybern’s soldiers. Gwyn’s bravery had excelled since the second she stepped into the ring, and Azriel had marvelled at her progress during training, how comfortable she became with the outside world. Stupidly, he had credited that to his and Cassian’s training, thinking that it was what Gwyn, Nesta and the others had needed to heal like he and Cassian had. No, this strength had nothing to do with what he taught her. Behind her stern expression, Azriel knew that deep down this strength had come from the friendship formed with you, Nesta, and Emerie. He had been a fool to see it as anything other than that.

“I’m proud of you, Gwyn.” Azriel said softly before his brain could shut him up.

Despite the flicker of surprise across her face, she did not yield. “I do not need your validation. I need you to do the right thing and help my friends. Only after that will your statement be worth anything to me.”

Gwyn removed the blade from the spymaster’s throat and turned on her heel. Like a ghost in the wind, she was gone. Azriel’s chest was tight as he stood up, collecting the documents in his arms and praying that this possibly very stupid decision would be worth it. But after seeing the anger on Gwyn’s face, the hurt he had caused without even realising it…. Azriel knew exactly what he needed to do as he winnowed away.

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

The door in front of Azriel opened before he could raise a hand to knock, revealing the redhead male with a golden eye wide with surprise.

“Azriel?” Lucien said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.” Was all he said in response before pushing his way past Lucien into the manor.

“By all means, come in.” The male muttered sarcastically.  But Azriel paid it no mind as he scanned the large living room for any sign of Jurian and Vassa.

“I’m alone.” Lucien quipped, settling down on the large brown armchair by the fireplace. “Since that’s what you were trying to figure out. I’m surprised you came by before (Y/N). I thought she’d have visited already, but I guess she’s been enjoying Velaris too much to be slumming it down in the human lands. When you see her next, thank her for the scarf for me, will you?”

Azriel’s heart dropped, head whipping sharply towards Azriel. “What?” He didn’t even bother keeping the surprise out of his voice.

Lucien frowned. “The scarf she gave me for the solstice? Rhys delivered it a day or so after, said she was busy on a new mission and asked him to drop it off for her.”

“Rhys was here?” Dread pooled in Azriel’s stomach. His High Lord was ensuring your disappearance would be quiet, giving him time to create a cover story before eliminating you.

“Yes… Why do you look so concerned? What aren’t you telling me?”

Azriel put his head in his hands, cursing. “You have no idea what’s been going on, have you?”

Lucien was still as a statue as he spoke. “I haven’t heard from (Y/N) since I got to the manor. When Rhysand visited, he said she had picked out a scarf for me as a present, and that she was sorry she hadn’t visited, but that she was loving her life in Velaris. And that she was training under you to work for the Night Court as a spy.”

Any desire to be secretive flew out the window as Azriel explained everything to the Autumn male – how you were not freely living in Velaris, but locked away with Nesta in the House of Wind. Your time spent back at the Spring Court to spy on your own people. Nesta’s engagement to Eris as a cover to escape the Night Court. Lucien was usually a collected male in Azriel’s eyes, but he could see the disbelief and anger in his expression as he told him the truth. When he was done, Lucien leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, speaking in a low voice. “So you’re telling me that you locked away my best friend, and everything I’ve heard about her for these past few months has been a lie.” Lucien said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Azriel said quietly. “And now I’m trying to fix it–”

“Fucking hell!” Lucien exclaimed sharply, standing up abruptly and pacing back and forth. “Your court is a fucking shitshow, you know that? How the fuck can you let this happen, Azriel? You’re so far up Rhysand’s ass you didn’t see any of this coming?”

“I understand you’re angry–”

“Oh angry doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Lucien hissed, his red hair gleaming in the light of the fire. “You played right into Rhys’ hands, and now (Y/N) is being tortured in a cell somewhere because you let it happen instead of growing a fucking spine. And that doesn’t even begin to touch on the fact that Nesta was treated so horribly by you people she was willing to marry ERIS out of all people just to get away from it.”

Azriel had no defence. Defeated, he hung his head. Lucien was right about everything, and it was made worse by the fact Rhysand lied about your status to him knowing that the Autumn male was the only one likely to try and do something to stick up for you.

“Now what I can’t figure out is why you’re telling me this.” Lucien folded his arms, glaring at the spymaster. “You’re either betraying Rhysand and trying to fix this mess, which is brave but incredibly stupid. Or you’ve come here to see if I somehow had anything to do with all this so you can hang me up in a cell next to (Y/N). Which is it, shadowsinger?”

”I need your help.” Azriel admitted, meeting his harsh gaze. “I’m trying to turn this around, but I need to track down Eris. You’re my only shot.”

Lucien let out a harsh, heartless laugh. “I figured. You need my help. If you thought I wasn’t going to be any use to you, I wonder if you’d have even come here and told me the truth. Or would you have just let me live on believing this lie until word got around about (Y/N) meeting her tragic end on some mission.”

Mentally, Azriel was exhausted. Two redheads ripping him a new one was beginning to chip away at him more than he was already crumbling at the weight of his decision. Like Gwyn, Lucien was right. While he respected the male, Azriel doubted he’d have even considered coming just to tell Lucien the truth about what happened if he didn’t think Lucien could help. And his moment of silence told Lucien all he needed to know, for he scoffed again. “Of course not,” He continued. “You people just love exploiting those of us without any other options and then throwing us away like garbage when we’re no longer of any use to you.”

“Then help me make this right.” Azriel pleaded. “Tell me how to get to Eris, discreetly.”

“Can’t you just free her yourself and take her to safety?”

“No, there are ancient wards in that prison. I can pass through quickly and easily, but not so much with another person. Rhys would find us within seconds if she left that cell, and kill us both.”

“Then how do you propose we get her out?”

Azriel frowned. “I’m sorry, we?”

Lucien rolled his eyes, taking a hearty swig from his glass of wine beside him. “I’m going to help you get her out.”

Azriel shook his head, not liking how many people were involved in this already. “I can’t let you.”

“Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not after everything you’ve done to create this mess. I’ll take you to Eris, and besides, I think I know something that can help us.”

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

The crisp scents of Autumn flooded Azriel’s senses as he paced the clearing. His mind whirled from his talk with Lucien, even more so at the male’s idea that they had discussed. Lucien had winnowed him here and told him to wait while he discreetly fetched Eris. It was a huge gamble – while you and Nesta had been willing to trust Eris, Azriel was not so keen. His dealings with the prince had always been tense at best, and vicious at worst. He knew he’d have to swallow his pride and put their history aside for this, however hard it may be.

Frankly, Azriel had no idea where in the Autumn Court he was. His shadows sensed nothing, no indication of where they were on the map. It briefly crossed his mind that Lucien could very well have led him into a trap as payback, but deep down Azriel knew Lucien wasn’t that type of male. However angry he might be at Azriel, he would prioritise getting you back. The clearing was massive, which made him feel far too exposed for his liking. There was a thicket of trees in the distance that he considered hiding in, but he owed it to Lucien to do as he was instructed and wait here.

It felt like hours before a strong gust of wind blew his tousled locks out of his forehead, and the presence of something Azriel could only describe as sheer power slammed into him like a wall. A thunderous roar sounded from the skies, unlike anything the shadowsinger had ever heard before. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

Three large dragons were flying ahead, circling above the clearing. Their wings were like claps of thunder, nearly sending him backwards onto the ground. Upon the back of the large black one was the unmistakable, arrogant figure of Eris Vanserra. He held onto the spikes going down the dragon’s neck as it soared above Azriel, roaring with the ferocity of an ancient battlecry. Azriel’s jaw nearly hit the ground as he spotted none other than Nesta Archeron, riding the elegant silver dragon with her hair blowing in the wind. Her eyes were a lethal glowing silver, resembling the scales of the very beast she was mounted on.

“Mother above…” Azriel whispered, flinching as he felt the ground shake beneath him. He turned around slowly, and was met with the third dragon, a riderless one with gold scales and large horns. It snaked towards him, growling fiercely. For a moment, Azriel thought the beast would open its jaws and roast him alive, but the creature paused, growling as it glanced behind the shadowsinger.

“I must say, you are the last person I expected to come here.” Came Eris’ cocky voice. Azriel turned back around, slightly nervous at the golden dragon breathing down his neck, and was faced with the other two. Ignoring Eris, his gaze landed upon Nesta.

She was perched upon the dragon like it was a horse, or even a throne, chin high like a queen from ancient times. Azriel’s breath left his body at the sight of Nesta with her hair unbound, trailing freely down her back and shining against her blood red dress. Whichever way her gaze shifted, the dragon’s did so too. It was like watching Nesta in a mirror, only her reflection was a dragon. It unnerved Azriel, and he was well aware of his vulnerability in this situation. Not only was he in enemy court, unauthorised at that matter, but three beasts he thought only existed in stories stood beside him, in the flesh.

“Lucien said you wanted to meet.” Eris said coldly. “You have ten seconds to convince us that it’s worth our time.”

“(Y/N) will die at sunrise tomorrow if we do not do something.” Azriel blurted out clumsily.

There was a moment of silence, and Eris looked towards Nesta. Her gaze was fixed on Azriel, and he squirmed underneath it. Her silver mount growled fiercely, as if it was sharing its riders' rage.

“Are we supposed to believe that you’ve suddenly had a change of heart and care about her?”

Azriel gritted his teeth. “I’ve always cared.”

Eris snorted. “No, not truly. If you had, then we wouldn’t be having this meeting. Because you’d have done something by now and grown a spine.”

“Your brother said the same thing.” The spymaster growled, already irked by having to negotiate with the Autumn prince. “I don’t need more reminding that I’ve fucked up, Eris. I just want to save her life, and I can’t do that on my own.”

“And it’s taken you this long to come to this realisation because…” Eris raised an eyebrow, amber gaze merciless. His dragon snarled, baring its teeth menacingly.

“I didn’t know Rhys would take things this far. I thought he’d want to find out everything about the bond before he made a decision on what to do with her. But he doesn’t want to wait, he wants her gone by tomorrow.”

“I assume he ordered you to do the deed?”

Azriel nodded, throat tight. “Yes. He ordered me to collect all information on the magic they used to create the bond before I…. before I kill her. Regardless of whether I came up with anything, he wants her eliminated by sunrise.”

This was probably the stupidest, craziest decision Azriel had ever made. Part of it felt wrong, betraying his found family after 500 years of peace. But when he reflected on those centuries, had he truly been happy? Had he truly felt like he was living a fulfilled life, content with what he was doing? A few weeks ago, Azriel would have been sure of his answer. Now he wasn’t, and that unsettled him.

Regardless, reached into his bag and pulled out the books Gwyn gave him. He took a breath and continued. “Which is why I brought every document the Night Court has on this magic to you. So Rhys wouldn’t get his hands on it.”

“You went to Gwyn?” Nesta burst out, rage dripping from her tongue.

“Yes.” Azriel admitted his guilt for putting Gwyn in this precarious position intensifying.

“You put her in danger by doing that!” The eldest Archeron hissed at him, her dragon responding in a similar tone. “If anything happens to her because of it, I will slaughter you, Azriel.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Gwyn said the same thing to me about you and (Y/N). I swore no matter what happened, nobody would find out I got this through her. She even put a knife to my throat.”

Eris spoke up again. “As much as I would truly love to believe you, if I recall correctly you were perfectly content sending (Y/N) to certain death weeks ago on an impossible mission under Rhysand’s orders.”

“I was trying to find a way out of it for her!” Azriel yelled, patience snapping. “A way for her to quietly flee and go build a life for herself far away from all this shit. I never told her because I didn’t want to scare her, or get her hopes up. I had the chance to explain this to her before…”

His voice trailed off, memories of seeing you strung up like an animal flashing through his mind. Azriel was no stranger to self hatred, but today it was striking him now more than ever.

Nesta’s lethal tone interrupted his thoughts. “Before what?” She demanded.

Azriel gulped, praying that the dragons wouldn’t make him their meal. “Before Rhysand interrupted and… took over.”

“Meaning?” Eris inquired, his dragon inching ever so slightly closer to the Illyrian.

“Meaning he thought I was being too soft, since I gave her water. He stopped the physical torture and spent hours trying to get inside her head until she passed out.”

“And he didn’t manage to do it?” Eris’ voice was laced with surprise, something uncharacteristic for the Autumn prince who always seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone.

“No.”

Eris and Nesta glanced at each other, unreadable expressions crossing their faces. Their dragons continued to stare down Azriel, awaiting whatever command would give them permission to incinerate him where he stood. He had a million questions for them – how the fuck did Eris have dragons? What did Beron say about all of this? Did they still plan on taking him out? But Azriel knew better than to ask them.

Nesta swung her legs to the side and crawled down the dragon’s side. To Azriel’s awe, the beast lowered its shoulder to the ground to make it easier for the female to climb off. Gracefully, Nesta’s feet met the ground and she patted the dragon’s neck. He remained frozen in his place as she stalked towards him. Like Gwyn, there was a new strength to her. This was not the half-starved Nesta who first came to the House of Wind. No, this was the female that stole from the Cauldron itself, whose name was whispered across the moors and valleys of Prythian, associated with pure death and power. Nesta’s steps were sure, silver fire expertly curling around her fingertips like Azriel’s own shadows as she stalked towards him like a lioness seizing up its prey.

“My war is not directly with you, Azriel,” Nesta said slowly. “But make no mistake. You are not innocent here. You may not have inflicted the most damage, but you willingly stood by and let your family tear me and (Y/N) down until they got pure submission. You let Cassian mock and belittle me at my lowest. You forced (Y/M)  into a job she did not want to do. You let Cassian force me to train as a warrior when that’s not at all what I wanted or needed. You didn’t do a damn thing to advocate for either of us because you’re so blinded by the sheltered little tower your circle has built over the last 500 years, ignorant to the pain you inflict on anyone who’s not a part of your family. You coming here on your own volition is the only thing in my eyes that could possibly redeem you. You will help us get (Y/N) back at all costs, or you will suffer at my hand more than you have ever suffered before.”

Being threatened for the third time that day, all Azriel could do was bow his head. “I understand.” He said.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Nesta hissed. “For your sake, let’s hope your change of heart isn’t too late.”

Azriel hadn’t even noticed Eris had climbed off his dragon and was walking towards Nesta. He stood beside her, gently resting a hand on her waist. Azriel tensed, half expecting Nesta to slap him away, but she did not. To his surprise, she looked comfortable with Eris. More so than she ever had been with Cassain. When Cassian touched Nesta, there was always some sexual suggestion beneath it. But not with Eris. Eris’ touch was comfort more than ownership, something Azriel did not expect.

In his heart, he realised Cassian and Nesta were not right for each other. It made no sense for them to be mates, and whatever they had going on was purely surface level sexual tension. There was nothing deep about it, no greater understanding of each other. Nesta and Eris seemed like a much more reasonable match, mirroring each other like they did with their dragons. As much as Azriel hated the male, and knew that these thoughts would crush Cassian’s heart, it reassured him that he had made the right choice.

“So, spymaster,” Eris piped up, cocking his head. “How are we doing to do this?”

And so Azriel began explaining.

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