#'let's shave his head and make him a sad sack'

[greyias]

Falling down a research rabbit hole due to a logistics question that doesn't matter for writing, and stumbled upon Chris Anderson's ArtStation portfolio and specifically a bunch of his concept art for KotFE. And then absolutely losing it upon finding concept art for the Gravestone themed speeders, and the fact that he painted Koth in the driver's seat, which is absolutely a+++ characterization (Koth would absolutely want a Gravestone themed speeder, even after the whole Gravedrog revelation in Nathema Conspiracy)

Also, I had either not seen, or completely forgotten about the early Arcann concepts, which were... um. Definitely a look! But I'm glad they moved on to turn him into our beloved baked potato man.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Tyrion III (Chapter 8)

Once again I'll be examining Aegon Blackfyre evidence, and letting you decide.

"Did you hear that, Haldon? The little man wants to fight with us!"

His companion was older, clean-shaved, with a lined ascetic face. His hair had been pulled back and tied in a knot behind his head.

[...]

The man called Haldon studied Tyrion with cool grey eyes before turning back to Illyrio. 

[...]

"So he does. I am Haldon, the healer in our little band of brothers. Some call me Halfmaester. My companion is Ser Duck."

Haldon the Halfmaester is Aegon's healer/tutor.

If I'm supposed to be reminded of Qhorin Halfhand, it worked.

Jon knew Qhorin Halfhand the instant he saw him, though they had never met. The big ranger was half a legend in the Watch; a man of slow words and swift action, tall and straight as a spear, long-limbed and solemn. Unlike his men, he was clean-shaven. His hair fell from beneath his helm in a heavy braid touched with hoarfrost, and the blacks he wore were so faded they might have been greys. - Jon V, ACOK

x

Qhorin's shrewd grey eyes seemed to see right through him. - Jon VII, ACOK

+.+.+

The man called Haldon studied Tyrion with cool grey eyes before turning back to Illyrio. "You have some chests for us?"

[...]

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. Tyrion counted six, oaken chests with iron hasps. 

[...]

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." 

Get ready for baseless chest drama.

+.+.+

"How fares our lad?" asked Illyrio as the chests were being secured. 

[...]

"There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. He was always fond of it." Illyrio sounded oddly sad. "I thought I might continue on to Ghoyan Drohe with you. A farewell feast before you start downriver …"

"We have no time for feasts, my lord," said Haldon. "Griff means to strike downriver the instant we are back. News has been coming upriver, none of it good. Dothraki have been seen north of Dagger Lake, outriders from old Motho's khalasar, and Khal Zekko is not far behind him, moving through the Forest of Qohor."

The fat man made a rude noise. "Zekko visits Qohor every three or four years. The Qohorik give him a sack of gold and he turns east again. As for Motho, his men are near as old as he is, and there are fewer every year. The threat is—"

"—Khal Pono," Haldon finished. 

Illyrio's sounding sad, and getting agitated when he can't see Aegon.

Many would tell you that means Aegon is Illyrio's son. Others might say that's not abnormal, given Illyrio helped raise the boy.

+.+.+

"So he does. I am Haldon, the healer in our little band of brothers. Some call me Halfmaester. My companion is Ser Duck."

"Ser Rolly," said the big man. "Rolly Duckfield. Any knight can make a knight, and Griff made me. And you, dwarf?"

Oops.

Ser Rolly Duckfield (Duck) is a knight in Aegon's service, and he just stupidly announced to Tyrion that Griff is also a knight.

+.+.+

Illyrio spoke up quickly. "Yollo, he is called."

Yollo? Yollo sounds like something you might name a monkey.

I KNEW IT.

"Perhaps your silver queen would like a monkey," said Gerris. - The Merchant's Man, ADWD

+.+.+

Worse, it was a Pentoshi name, and any fool could see that Tyrion was no Pentoshi. "In Pentos I am Yollo," he said quickly, to make what amends he could, "but my mother named me Hugor Hill."

"Are you a little king or a little bastard?" asked Haldon.

Tyrion realized he would do well to be careful around Haldon Halfmaester. "Every dwarf is a bastard in his father's eyes."

Hugor was the first King of the Andals.

Hill is the surname given to bastards in the Westerlands.

Have you made any connection to another character? A king or a bastard? Maybe both? :)

+.+.+

"No doubt. Well, Hugor Hill, answer me this. How did Serwyn of the Mirror Shield slay the dragon Urrax?"

"He approached behind his shield. Urrax saw only his own reflection until Serwyn had plunged his spear through his eye."

Haldon was unimpressed. "Even Duck knows that tale. Can you tell me the name of the knight who tried the same ploy with Vhagar during the Dance of the Dragons?"

Tyrion grinned. "Ser Byron Swann. He was roasted for his trouble … only the dragon was Syrax, not Vhagar."

Please don't tell me some poor schmuck will try this a third time.

+.+.+

"I fear that you're mistaken. In The Dance of the Dragons, A True Telling, Maester Munkun writes—"

"—that it was Vhagar. Grand Maester Munkun errs. Ser Byron's squire saw his master die, and wrote his daughter of the manner of it. His account says it was Syrax, Rhaenyra's she-dragon, which makes more sense than Munken's version. Swann was the son of a marcher lord, and Storm's End was for Aegon. Vhagar was ridden by Prince Aemond, Aegon's brother. Why should Swann want to slay her?"

Tyrion's pretending to be a bastard from the Westerlands, but he can't help showing off his giant brain.

Hard for me to not see Daenerys vs. Aegon hints here. Should I also be thinking about Balon or Donnel Swann? I couldn't tell you.

+.+.+

Haldon pursed his lips. "Try not to tumble off the horse. If you do, best waddle back to Pentos. Our shy maid will not wait for man nor dwarf."

"Shy maids are my favorite sort. Aside from wanton ones. Tell me, where do whores go?"

Please die.

+.+.+

"Do I look like a man who frequents whores?"

Duck laughed derisively. "He don't dare. Lemore would make him pray for pardon, the lad would want to come along, and Griff might cut his cock off and stuff it down his throat."

Aegon, you tramp! Lol

+.+.+

"Good fortune," Illyrio called after them. "Tell the boy I am sorry that I will not be with him for his wedding. I will rejoin you in Westeros. That I swear, by my sweet Serra's hands."

I question why a man would skip his own son's wedding.

The hands are still weird.

+.+.+

The last that Tyrion Lannister saw of Illyrio Mopatis, the magister was standing by his litter in his brocade robes, his massive shoulders slumped. As his figure dwindled in their dust, the lord of cheese looked almost small.

Still upset.

+.+.+

This time Duck laughed, and Haldon said, "What a droll little fellow you are, Yollo. They say that the Shrouded Lord will grant a boon to any man who can make him laugh. Perhaps His Grey Grace will choose you to ornament his stony court."

Duck glanced at his companion uneasily. "It's not good to jape of that one, not when we're so near the Rhoyne. He hears."

"Wisdom from a duck," said Haldon. "I beg your pardon, Yollo. You need not look so pale, I was only playing with you. The Prince of Sorrows does not bestow his grey kiss lightly."

His grey kiss. The thought made his flesh crawl. Death had lost its terror for Tyrion Lannister, but greyscale was another matter. The Shrouded Lord is just a legend, he told himself, no more real than the ghost of Lann the Clever that some claim haunts Casterly Rock. Even so, he held his tongue.

There's a first time for everything.

The Shrouded Lord spreads greyscale through his grey kiss, unless you can make him laugh. All of this was probably foreshadowing, but the scene was cut.

Someday I will die, and I hope you're right and it's thirty years from now. When that happens, maybe my heirs will decide to publish a book of fragments and deleted chapters, and you'll all get to read about Tyrion's meeting with the Shrouded Lord. It's a swell, spooky, evocative chapter, but you won't read it in DANCE. It took me down a road I decided I did not want to travel, so I went back and ripped it out. So, unless I change my mind again, it's going the way of the draft of LORD OF THE RINGS where Tolkien has Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin reach the Prancing Pony and meet... a weatherbeaten old hobbit ranger named "Trotter." - George R. R. Martin

Instead of the above, we got this:

He dreamt of his lord father and the Shrouded Lord. He dreamt that they were one and the same, and when his father wrapped stone arms around him and bent to give him his grey kiss, he woke with his mouth dry and rusty with the taste of blood and his heart hammering in his chest.

"Our dead dwarf has returned to us," Haldon said. - Tyrion VI, ADWD

It's been theorized that Tyrion was supposed to "encounter" the Shrouded Lord when he's pulled into the river by stone men, while travelling through the Sorrows.

I guess Tyrion made him laugh, and escaped greyscale? Apparently Jon Connington isn't as witty.

+.+.+

"Those chests we brought you," he said as they were chewing. "Gold for the Golden Company, I thought at first, until I saw Ser Rolly hoist a chest onto one shoulder. If it were full of coin, he could never have lifted it so easily."

"It's just armor," said Duck, with a shrug.

"Clothing as well," Haldon broke in. "Court clothes, for all our party. Fine woolens, velvets, silken cloaks. One does not come before a queen looking shabby … nor empty-handed. The magister has been kind enough to provide us with suitable gifts."

This isn't important, but let me talk anyway.

A ton of people believe the Valyrian sword Blackfyre and Targaryen banners are in these chests.

The sword theory comes from a draft of this chapter, that was read before release.

Haldon interrupts him by saying they already know this because Bennaro has seen it in his fires and that the Golden Company makes for Volantis. That is why Griff needs them to make haste. Illyrio says there is no need for haste. Haldon says Griff believes there is need for haste. Haldon eyes Tyrion and then begins to speak in another language. Tyrion cannot tell what it is but think it might be Volantene. He catches a few words that come close to High Valyrian. The words he catches are, queen, dragon, and sword. - Tyrion III, ADWD (Draft)

Queen, dragon, sword.

Tyrion catches the word sword, so people jumped to the conclusion that Haldon is referring to Blackfyre.

Anyone paying attention should know what sword is being referenced.

The Volantene waved a hand. "In Volantis, thousands of slaves and freedmen crowd the temple plaza every night to hear Benerro shriek of bleeding stars and a sword of fire that will cleanse the world. He has been preaching that Volantis will surely burn if the triarchs take up arms against the silver queen." - Tyrion VI, ADWD

It's Daenerys's sword of fire, Drogon. Queen, dragon, sword.

They also believe candied ginger is code for Blackfyre because of the following exchange:

There is a gift for the boy in one of the chests. Some candied ginger. - Tyrion III, ADWD

x

"Time to raise some bruises. Swords today, I think."

"Swords?" Young Griff grinned. "Swords will be sweet." - Tyrion IV, ADWD

Lol, okay.

The Golden Company might have Blackfyre, but this is not evidence for it. As for the banners? Total guesswork.

+.+.+

"If it is useful occupation you require, useful occupation you shall have," his father then said. So to mark his manhood, Tyrion was given charge of all the drains and cisterns within Casterly Rock. Perhaps he hoped I'd fall into one. But Tywin had been disappointed in that. The drains never drained half so well as when he had charge of them.

Tyrion will repeat this information again.

David and Dan couldn't even remember Samwell was a point of view character, so I doubt they'd remember this.

I have to believe it wasn't a show invention. Tyrion will eventually weaponize that knowledge of Casterly Rock.

+.+.+

After the animals had been tended to, the riders shared a simple supper of salt pork and cold white beans, washed down with ale.

x

I need a cup of wine, to wash the taste of Tywin from my mouth. A skin of wine would serve me even better.

Tyrion's been mostly cut off this entire chapter, but he's still an alcoholic.

+.+.+

The city was no more impressive. Ghoyan Drohe had never been large, Tyrion recalled from his histories, but it had been a fair place, green and flowering, a city of canals and fountains. Until the war. Until the dragons came. A thousand years later, the canals were choked with reeds and mud, and pools of stagnant water gave birth to swarms of flies. The broken stones of temples and palaces were sinking back into the earth, and gnarled old willows grew thick along the riverbanks.

Something something dragons plant no trees.

+.+.+

"Duck!" came a shout. "Haldon!" Tyrion craned his head to one side, and saw a boy standing on the roof of a low wooden building, waving a wide-brimmed straw hat. He was a lithe and well-made youth, with a lanky build and a shock of dark blue hair. The dwarf put his age at fifteen, sixteen, or near enough to make no matter.

Apparently the wide-brimmed straw hat is an Egg reference? Shrug.

Aegon shares some similarities with Illyrio's statue.

A naked boy stood on the water, poised to duel with a bravo's blade in hand. He was lithe and handsome, no older than sixteen, with straight blond hair that brushed his shoulders. So lifelike did he seem that it took the dwarf a long moment to realize he was made of painted marble, though his sword shimmered like true steel. - Tyrion I, ADWD

Of course Rhaegar's son should be older than sixteen, so that might also be a red flag.

However, Tyrion has never been the best judge.

Tyrion sighed. "You are remarkably polite for a bastard, Snow. What you see is a dwarf. You are what, twelve?"

"Fourteen," the boy said.- Tyrion II, ADWD

+.+.+

The roof the boy was standing on turned out to be the cabin of the Shy Maid, an old ramshackle single-masted poleboat. She had a broad beam and a shallow draft, ideal for making her way up the smallest of streams and crabwalking over sandbars. A homely maid, thought Tyrion, but sometimes the ugliest ones are the hungriest once abed.

Why are you still alive?

+.+.+

An older couple with a Rhoynish cast to their features stood close beside the tiller, whilst a handsome septa in a soft white robe stepped through the cabin door and pushed a lock of dark brown hair from her eyes.

[...]

I do not like his eyes, Tyrion reflected, when the sellsword [Griff] sat down across from him in the dimness of the boat's interior, with a scarred plank table and a tallow candle between them. They were ice blue, pale, cold. The dwarf misliked pale eyes. Lord Tywin's eyes had been pale green and flecked with gold.

We'll cover Septa Lemore in another chapter, but it's important to note Tyrion never states the colour of her eyes. That's unlike Tyrion.

+.+.+

Tyrion turned to Young Griff and gave the lad his most disarming smile. "Blue hair may serve you well in Tyrosh, but in Westeros children will throw stones at you and girls will laugh in your face."

The lad was taken aback. "My mother was a lady of Tyrosh. I dye my hair in memory of her."

The sun's son.

+.+.+

He watched the sellsword read. That he could read said something all by itself. How many sellswords could boast of that? He hardly moves his lips at all, Tyrion reflected.

Who's better at hiding their identity, Jon Connington or Sansa Stark?

+.+.+

"Tywin Lannister dead? At your hand?"

"At my finger. This one." Tyrion held it up for Griff to admire. "Lord Tywin was sitting on a privy, so I put a crossbow bolt through his bowels to see if he really did shit gold. He didn't. A pity, I could have used some gold. I also slew my mother, somewhat earlier. Oh, and my nephew Joffrey, I poisoned him at his wedding feast and watched him choke to death. Did the cheesemonger leave that part out? I mean to add my brother and sister to the list before I'm done, if it please your queen."

"Please her? Has Illyrio taken leave of his senses? Why does he imagine that Her Grace would welcome the service of a self-confessed kingslayer and betrayer?"

A fair question, thought Tyrion, but what he said was, "The king I slew was sitting on her throne, and all those I betrayed were lions, so it seems to me that I have already done the queen good service."

Because she's an idiot?

His brother's smile curdled like sour milk. "Tyrion, my sweet brother," he said darkly, "there are times when you give me cause to wonder whose side you are on."

Tyrion's mouth was full of bread and fish. He took a swallow of strong black beer to wash it all down, and grinned up wolfishly at Jaime. "Why, Jaime, my sweet brother," he said, "you wound me. You know how much I love my family." - Tyrion I, AGOT

Oh Daenerys, you silly girl, a blind man could see what's coming from a mile away.

+.+.+

"There is blood between Targaryen and Lannister. Why would you support the cause of Queen Daenerys?"

"For gold and glory," the dwarf said cheerfully. "Oh, and hate. If you had ever met my sister, you would understand."

Would you betray her for gold?

For Casterly Rock?

For your golden siblings?

+.+.+

"I understand hate well enough." From the way Griff said the word, Tyrion knew that much was true. He has supped on hate himself, this one. It has warmed him in the night for years.

"Then we have that in common, ser."

"I am no knight."

Not only a liar, but a bad one. That was clumsy and stupid, my lord. "And yet Ser Duck says you knighted him."

Why tell him you know what's going on?

Tyrion's the type of guy who would include his IQ score on an online dating profile.

+.+.+

"Some might wonder that a duck can talk at all. No matter, Griff. You are no knight and I am Hugor Hill, a little monster. Your little monster, if you like. You have my word, all that I desire is to be leal servant of your dragon queen."

I didn't like that Tyrion came immediately after that Bran passage.

I hate it even more now.

"A monster," Bran said.

The ranger looked at Bran as if the rest of them did not exist. "Your monster, Brandon Stark." - Bran I, ADWD

+.+.+

"And how do you propose to serve her?"

"With my tongue."

+.+.+

"I can tell Her Grace how my sweet sister thinks, if you call it thinking. I can tell her captains the best way to defeat my brother, Jaime, in battle. I know which lords are brave and which are craven, which are loyal and which are venal. I can deliver allies to her. And I know much and more of dragons, as your halfmaester will tell you. I'm amusing too, and I don't eat much. Consider me your own true imp."

I can't stop laughing. The most despised man in all of Westeros just said that.

What allies will you be delivering, demon monkey?

+.+.+

Griff weighed that for a moment. "Understand this, dwarf. You are the last and least of our company. Hold your tongue and do as you are told, or you will soon wish you had."

+.+.+

Yes, Father, Tyrion almost said. "As you say, my lord."

"I am no lord."

Liar. "It was a courtesy, my friend."

Oh my goodness, he's so smart. So clever. So cunning.

+.+.+

"What if we should find the queen and discover that this talk of dragons was just some sailor's drunken fancy? This wide world is full of such mad tales. Grumkins and snarks, ghosts and ghouls, mermaids, rock goblins, winged horses, winged pigs … winged lions."

You mean a GRIFFin?

Almost like naming yourself after your house's sigil is the dumbest idea in the world.

+.+.+

Griff stared at him, frowning. "I have given you fair warning, Lannister. Guard your tongue or lose it. Kingdoms are at hazard here. Our lives, our names, our honor. This is no game we're playing for your amusement."

Of course it is, thought Tyrion. The game of thrones. "As you say, Captain," he murmured, bowing once again.

Title drop!

Final thoughts:

I wouldn't say I believe Tyrion will lose his tongue, but I'm definitely giving it more consideration than I was two books ago.

One thing I keep returning to is that George likes to deprive Lannisters of the things they value most. For Jaime, it's his sword hand. For Cersei, it's her children/beauty (depending on your point of view).

For Tyrion, it would be his tongue. . . I don't know.

38 down, 11 to go. :(

-> return to menu <-

[popquizhot-shot]

hello! i've had recently more time so i decided to read some of your works and i don't know what to say. they are amaizing and kaz in your writning style is so cool. that's why i want to request something.

could you please write a kaz x female!reader, where the reader is merchant's child (her mother got pregnat by her boyfriend – a gang member from the barrel – in very young age. now she is merchant's wife and besides y/n she has other child/children who aren't bastards like y/n) and she helps kaz with his ice court heist from inside because her family got invited to hringkälla. she is also a little bit jealous of inej and kaz likes to make fun of her in his own way, when they are coming back to the ketterdam.

thank you in advance! <3

You stop his heart-Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Hi! thank you so much for requesting! I loved the plot idea! and I'm really glad you like my writing! I love you're writing too!<33 Here reader and Kaz are in a secret relationship because I love secret relationships so deal with it ppl. :P

Summary: ^^read the request!!

I like this a lot so please tell me how you like it! @messers-moony-lupin  @sirisuorionblack @mrs-brekker15 @confuscita @scandalous-chaos

“Stay safe Brekker.” you held his gloved hands in yours, kissing his palms, smirking at the way his cheeks turned red.

It was ten bells past eleven and everyone at you’re house was asleep, including you’re brothers.

“I might see you there.” he smirked, “you’re family’s invited are they not? I’ll be able to see you in a ball gown for the first time.”

“You won’t be able to recognize me.” you teased.

“I would recognize you even if wore a potato-sack and shaved you’re head, you’re burnt into my memory, angel.” 

“And people dare say you’re emotionless.” you giggled.

“Oh hush.” he whispered and hid his face in the crook of you’re neck.

He would have to go soon, climb out the window and into the darkness, and maybe he’d never return.

No, let me cherish this moment. 

He pulled away, a little shaky, but with a small grin on his face, “Smile for me angel, I don’t like seeing you all sad like this.”

So you smiled, teeth showing, cheekbones turning up.

He grinned, kissed your forehead and squeezed you’re hand.

“ See you in Fjerda, angel.” 

Inej was worried. Kaz had disappeared into the night for a long time and even she could not find him.

As she leapt over a rooftop in the Garden District, she spied his hat, he was climbing down a window pipe.

Curious, she decided go a little closer.

Kaz had visited someone in the dead of night, always before important heists and came back an hour or two later.

She waited until he left and decided to do some investigation of her own, she stalked over to the roof of you’re house and shimmied down the pipe soundlessly to the room she saw Kaz come out of.

Damn, the curtains were closed. She couldn’t see who Kaz had come to visit.

As she moved to leave, she realized whose house this was, this was the house of the merch, Viktor Steign. His two sons and his stepdaughter.

She had an inkling of an idea as to why Kaz had come here, and to be honest, she didn’t quite like it.

<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<`<`<~<~<~<

“Papa, if you want, I can go in the other boat, I know how you and my brothers like to have you’re own time and I’m sure I’d be fine on my own.” you asked you’re father, well, you’re stepfather.

“Are you sure dear? It wouldn’t be a problem if you were with us, besides it would be safer.” he looked up from his newspaper.

“Father, she just wants to be away from us.” you’re older brother George said, ruffling you’re hair from behind.

“I want to be away from you and Neil.” you swatted at you’re brother’s hand.

You’re mother died after giving birth to you’re youngest sibling Lizzie, who currently was in Novyi Zem in a boarding school.

You’re stepfather, had a wife before marrying you’re mother, and had George and Neil, and then after his wife had left him, he married your mom, who already had you, she never told you who you’re biological father was, just that he was a barrel rat and not worth her time nor her love.

You’re brothers were protective of you, regardless of the fact that you were their stepsister, they treated you as their own. Oh and Lizzie? They spoiled her and doted on her every second of the day.

“Papa don’t listen to that oaf, you know I’ll be fine.” you reasoned.

“Alright my dear, alright. But that means you’ll have to get a boat from Fjerda to Ketterdam.” he said.

“I’ll arrange passage, not to worry Papa. Thank you!” you all but squealed and hugged him.

As you left, your father sighed, “ She’s growing up George.” 

You’re brother narrowed his eyes, “ Mmm, you’re right father,”

<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

“Welcome! Mister,Steign Welcome to Hringkalla! It is an honour to have you here!” a man in a blue uniform made his way to you’re family.

“Mister.Brum! It is an honour to be here, Hringkalla is a sacred festival and I am glad to be a part of it.” you’re father said politely.

Jarl Brum, famed leader of the Druskelle, a Fjerdan special corps who hunted Grisha.

“And this must be you’re daughter.” Brum exclaimed, “Although she doesn’t look like you at all, are you sure the nurse hadn’t picked up the wrong baby?” Brum nudged you’re father.

“No Mister. Brum, we’re sure.” Neil stepped forward, his curly brown hair contrasting Brum’s white.

“Of course of course. Please do enjoy the festival.” you saw how his eyes went to a plump redhead dressed in teal who was talking to another officer, and you nearly scoffed. What a creep.

You nodded in thanks to you’re brother and left to go mingle with the crowd, eyes scanning the ballroom for anyone who remotely looked like you’re boyfriend.

Oh there he was, standing next to a druskelle guard, wearing the uniform. Wait what?

You did a double take and you’re mouth almost dropped in shock.

From the corner of you’re eye, you saw another guard approaching them, looking quite stern.

Shit, I have to do something. You quickly shuffled over to where they were, almost grinning at the way Kaz’s eyes widened.

“Oh dear, sir, may I please know the way to the balconies? I feel rather sick.” you fan yourself with you’re hand and breathe fast.

The guard’s eyes pass over you’re body and Kaz’s eyes darken. That man might not have a good night tonight.

“Of course madam, let me take you there myself” he extends his hand and you take it, smiling fakely.

“Oh thank you, kind sir.”

“Call me Andor”

“Of course, thank you Andor.”

You snuck a quick glance at Kaz and winked, making him turn a shade of red as he and the blonde man next to him walked into a small hallway.

<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

“Papa, I think I’ll leave now, I don’t wish to be here any longer.” you whispered to you’re father, who nodded.

“Stay safe dear.”

“Yes Papa.”

You made you’re way out, showing the different officers you’re identification papers.

As soon as you stepped out, you quickly made you’re way to the Ferolind, Kaz had told you his entire plan, and you wanted to surprise him.

You saw Speight, the ex-Navy officer and went up to him.

“Mister.Speight.-”you began.

“How do you know my name missy?” Speight narrowed his eyes.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interrupt me, and don’t call me missy. Mister Brekker gives you money to support you’re sister in exchange for Navy sea routes, the ship you came to Fjerda on does not transport merchandise or goods. Now, I know Kaz Brekker personally, you will let me on the boat or Ghezen help me I will-”

“Alright! yes ma’am.” he said timidly and you entered the Ferolind, waiting in the deck below.

<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

Nina had taken the parem, shit hit the fan, he almost killed the guy that flirted with you.

But yet, Kaz felt happy, they had succeeded. Now all he wanted to see was you’re proud face smiling at him and you’re hands playing with his hair. He  subconsciously ran his hand through his hair and made his way down.

 “Hello Kaz.”

He froze.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he slammed the door shut.

“I needed a way to come home faster than my family and this fit the bill. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted so-”

Kaz made his way over to you and touched his forehead to yours.

“Angel.” he whispered, “ I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too Kazzie.” you answer.

“You look lovely.” he hid his face in you’re neck again, nose against you’re pulse.

“Thank you, even the guard seemed to think so.” you said, you’re voice teasing.

“I wanted to kill him.” Kaz almost growled.

“You didn’t right?”

“No, didn’t get the chance to, I broke his nose and fractured his collarbone and legs though, so I’m satisfied” he said.

“Good.” you kissed his nose.

“Can I meet the rest of the Crows?” you ask.

“If that’s what you want, sure.”

You nodded and he opened the door.

<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~

“Guys, this is Y/n.”

You waved shyly, “Hi!”

“Hello Lovely!” Jesper cheered,  pointing finger-guns at you, which you returned, making him grin.

“ Hello. I saw you at Hringkalla, Thank you for helping us at the right time.” Matthias greeted solemnly.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” you shake his hand, and he smiles.

“Finally, someone who is civilized.” he comments, making you laugh.

“She’s anything but.” Kaz piped in.

“ Oh hush.” you swat at Kaz, making him grin, just a little bit.

You made you’re way to Wylan and Kuwei, who both seemed to like you, Wylan opening up a bit more, talking about music shows and chemistry.

And finally Inej and Nina.

“You’re beautiful.” Nina’s hoarse voice said, making you shy all of a sudden.

“Likewise lovely, you’re hot.” you answer, making Nina huff out a small laugh.

“Nice to meet you Miss Ghafa. Kaz tells me a lot about you.” you shake her hand, unsure of what to say. She seemed so perfect.

“It’s lovely to meet you too! All good things I hope?” she asks.

“All good things, you’re amazing!” you exclaim, making her smile.

“Thank you.”

<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<~<

“You know, Kaz is really in love with you.” Nina commented.

“What makes you say that?” you ask her, eyebrows furrowed.

“With Parem, I can hear how his heart skips a beat whenever he hears you’re voice, or if even someone says you’re name. It’s so cute its borderline disgusting.” she finishes the tea you gave her and you both laugh.

“And I know you love him too.” she said.

 “How?” 

“I can hear how you’re breathing changes when you look at Kaz. It catches every time. As if you’ve never seen him before. Again, so cute it’s disgusting.”

“Well, I am in love with him.” Kaz beckons you to come next to him.

“ Excuse me, Nina. I’ll be back in awhile.” you smile and leave.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, everyone loves you.” Kaz says.

“Of course they do, it’s me we’re talking about!”

“Exactly why I’m confused.” he teases.

You’re mouth flies open in fake offence, “You meanie.” 

“You love it” 

“No, I love you.” you say, making him freeze and turn to look at you.

 “What?” he asks, his voice low.

“Yes, I love you. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” you reply.

Kaz rests his head on you’re shoulder, kissing you’re cheek, “ I love you too angel.”

[hes-writer]

Be Quiet

Summary: y/n does the 'drop the towel' challenge

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex (video chat), oral, male receiving

Word Count: 2055 words

A/N:  this is one of my first smut pieces. i'm kind of nervous. let me know what you thought.

___

Since quarantine started, Harry had been facing his laptop screen for the majority of the day. His team scrambling to rebook dates, rescheduling the all-too anticipated Love On Tour and discussing various fees that needed to be paid. Honestly, you were sad that the tour wasn’t a go this year because of the pandemic. Harry was always at his happiest when he’s performing on stage, in front of a crowd that yelled his name and sang his songs in adoration and you couldn’t even feel offended by it. However, a part of you was happy that Harry managed to catch a flight home before the restrictions started happening.

Still, it didn’t help that his physical presence was the only thing around you. He was so busy that he barely spared a touch at you the whole week except for when you brought him his favourite kale smoothie or fed him his rice cracker snacks, to which he showed his appreciation through solemn kisses before Jeff called out his name sternly for his attention back.

You’ve been scrolling on the TikTok app recently to spend your time, chuckling to yourself at the funny videos, and brows drawing together in interest at the life hack tips that you deemed useful in the future. Then, you stumbled upon the challenge where girls walked in front of their boyfriends in only a towel to drop to get their attention. You bit your lip at the thought, wondering if this is what it took to finally get Harry’s hands on you.

______

You were fresh out of the shower, your hair tickling your sensitive back in damp touches. You made sure to shave every inch of your skin-- you’ve always loved the feeling of smoothness when you lay on your silky sheets at night. Plus, it made Harry absolutely mad at the sensation of velvety soft skin when he tangled his legs with yours.

Your fingers brushed off some large knots in your hair before you wrapped a blush pink towel around your chest. Legs peeked out from where the towel stopped mid-thigh.

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Harry replied, you could imagine him with his chin on his palm, glasses drifting down his slant nose in boredom.

You walked silently to his office, keeping your footsteps light. He perked up at the sound of the door creaking, plastering a look of confusion on his face when he took in your appearance and your phone pointed at him. He tilted his head in question before clearing his throat, “I think we should wait till’ everything is rescheduled before we announce it,”

He leaned forward in his chair, intrigued at your antics. You stood behind his desk, his laptop camera facing away from you. You unfolded the flap that held your towel around your body, Harry widened his eyes at the action. He shook his head in denial as if quietly asking you not to do anything right now. You bit your lip, shaking your head back with a teasing smile.

The towel landed on the floor with a light ‘thud’. You shivered unnoticeably when the cold air nipped your damp skin, goosebumps raised on your body at the shift in temperature. Giggling quietly, a giddiness expanded on your chest at the camera capturing Harry’s reaction the moment you revealed your naked body to him--mouth ajar, a flush of red painting his cheeks and his neck. Harry gulped at the sight, shifting uncomfortably in his plush leather seat where you stood just behind the screen where Jeff and a couple of executive members continued discussing the next topic.

You covered your mouth as you giggled, tapping the button to stop the recording, placing your phone face down on his mahogany desk. He tapped his lips to remind you to stay quiet, still not letting his gaze drift away from your now hardening nipples. You took his attention as an opportunity to tease him even more, twisting your buds gently between your fingertips, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp at the sensation that had Harry quick to press the ‘mute’ button on the screen. His fingers fell away from his lips, indicating that the microphone was off.  

“What do y’think y’are doing?” He growled, angling his head so that the camera won’t catch his lips moving. You shrugged innocently, palming your breasts in your small hand, some spilling out between your fingers. You knew that the action drove Harry crazy by the way his breath hitched--he always loved that your breasts were the perfect handful for him.

“Nothin’,” You quipped, biting your pointer finger with your teeth as you looked at him seductively. He was about to answer when his name was called. Harry’s hardened gaze told you to ‘behave’ but you never listened to him unless you absolutely had to.

“Yes, ‘m here. Sorry, Y/N was just checking up on me,” His eyes just about bulged out when you approached his side, resting your bum on the edge of the desk. You made sure not to let yourself be in the frame of the camera as you stretched your leg over Harry’s lap. “What the f--,”

You pressed your finger against your lips, shushing him with alarmed eyes pointing to his laptop. With the position of you standing on one leg, your pelvic bone shielded his prying eyes from your core unless he slouched incredibly low on his chair. He really wanted too, but that would be too suspicious.

You dipped your fingers in your slick heat, glossing the pads with your juices before rubbing it against your clit. Your leg wanted to jolt close in his lap but his tight grip held your calf down, biting your lip at the shock of pleasure. You repeated this a couple more times before pulling your leg back slowly, making sure to keep it below the desk. He sighed in relief, but you smirked mischievously as your foot swept past the bulge in his pants. The tent was so visible that you wanted nothing more but to have his length in your mouth.

He had just enough wit to mute himself before he released a small moan, looking off to the side to hide his pleasured face. “Christ, what are you doing to me, angel?”

“Missed you,” was all you said before maneuvering between his legs, under the thick plane of the desk that hid you from everyone else aside from him. You pressed your finger against your lips again, the shadows of the wood adding an ominous aura to your face. He lifted his hips as you tugged his sweatpants down. He stared at you with hooded lids, lips slick with spit as he licked them once over.

You let your tongue wander his thick length, grabbing the base to have a steady workplace. His dick was slick with spit, getting your chin sticky from both his pre-cum pearling on the slit and your mouth wrapped around the tip. His thighs relaxed as you took him in your mouth, gripping the arms of the office chair to pull the wheels closer to you so that you could take him deeper down your throat. You gagged, constricting around his tip which had him tangling his fingers in your hair to pull you back, his breathing heavy. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay quiet. You pushed his hand away, opting to return to your task at hand, bobbing your head back and forth with effort.

“Great, I-I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Harry clicked the window closed, slamming the laptop shut. “Shit, oh shit,” He moaned out head lulling back on the headrest as he sucked in a deep breath.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth, mouthing at the sides to let him catch his breath.

“Get the fuck outta’ there,” He said, waiting for you to crawl out his desk and beside his chair, kneeling down at eye level to meet his dick. “What was that, hmm?”

“I told you, I missed you,” You pouted at him, your heel rubbing against your core and you subconsciously rocked back and forth at the feeling. He looked down at you, “You missed me so much y'even playing with your pussy in front of me,” You nodded. “Why don’t you show me how much?”

You licked your palm slowly, feeling your saliva trickle down your skin, wrapping his velvety hardness with spit. He groaned as you pumped him with your closed fist, the clicking noise filling his ears. “So much, Harry,” You rubbed his red tip against your lips, his precum tasting so delightful. “Missed you so much. Love you so much,”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” You whimpered, “I love sucking your cock,” You said while letting the tip of your tongue trace lightly over his head but he understood anyway. "Love making you feel good,"

“You want more?” You nodded, beginning to cover his mushroom head with your mouth again. “God, yes,” He groaned in relief, tilting his head up as he licked his lips slowly. The fingers in your hair tightened as you pulled off again, licking his base to get it wet, journeying lower to where his balls lay nice and tight. Your mouth puckered as you gently suctioned his balls, prodding your tongue in the middle of the sack that had him curling his toes. You pushed yourself higher, lifting your bum from your heel to gain an advantage to take him down your throat.

“So fuckin’ good,” He lulled, voice deep with lust as he watched you lay your tongue flat on your bottom lip, sheathing him inside your warm mouth over and over again until the heat spread to his upper body, forcing him to sit up and pull his shirt over his head. You moaned at the sight of his chest heaving, the butterfly on his stomach fluttering in anticipation. Your palm flattened against his belly, tapping it twice to let him know that you wanted him to take over. “You sure?”

“Yes, please,” You nodded, pulling your head back. “Open your mouth for me, then,”

You let your jaw go unhinged, sticking your tongue out as the underside of his cock grazed your textured organ, “Fuck, that’s it,” You stared at him with tortured eyes, wanting his hips to go faster but his caring nature wanted you to enjoy it just as much as he was. He shifted his hand to hold the back of your head, raising his hips to shove his cock deeper in your throat, fucking your mouth. He did this for a few more seconds until the wheels on the chair moved farther back, almost causing him to crash on the ground. You grasped his thick thighs in your hands, taking the control back by dipping your head back and forth until you needed to catch your breath.

“‘M about to fuckin’ blow, baby,”

You latched your mouth on his drippy tip, tracing the small veins with your tongue. One hand cradled his balls, rolling them around like a pair of die that simulated the blood flow to a pleasurable extent. Your other hand clutched his base, twisting your hand around it in circular motions while simultaneously going up and down. You suctioned your lips in a tight grip that it almost hurt, making sure that not one part of his dick was left untouched at any moment. “Holy shit, ‘m cumming,”

You doubled your efforts, not caring about the mess that you were leaving on your cheeks, your chin and your chest, even going as far as genuinely moaning at seeing Harry lose himself to the pleasure you were giving him. The noise he released came from within his chest, paired with shouts of your name and a ‘jesus fuck’, his stomach convulsing as his dick practically throbbed in your mouth at the force of his orgasm. His balls pulsing with each stroke of sticky, white cum painting your mouth until he softened between your plump cheeks. You swallowed heavily, using your fingers to catch the few drops that escaped back into your mouth.

“Tastes good?” He panted, watching you walk over to pick up your towel, wiping the excess bodily fluid from your body. You hummed in agreement, drying the tips of your hair off. “So good,”

_______

eeek

_______

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[allforbtsu]

Save My Seoul From Comfort | Chapter 1

Ot7 X Reader (eventually)

Summary: With nothing else left from your aunt but debt, you have no other choice but to start working as a prostitude. After all this time of loneliness, you may have found seven boys in the same situation as you who are set on changing all your lives.

Warning: This series might be distressing to some readers as it includes indirect description of sex trafficking and rape. I do not condone any scene that violates Human Rights, this is purely fiction and used to set light on an international issues.

Word Count: 2.8k

Genre: non-idol au, smut, fluff

Prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The streets were full of life, people wandering everywhere, entering cafes, bars, and restaurants. It was a warm night, the air smelled of summer and fast food, and as you walked ahead the amount of lights that emanated from the stores gave you a sense of comfort. Contradicting the feeling that you had, feeling as if you had no other choice  tightened your chest, the feeling of no escape, nowhere to run. 

The store you were looking for could be seen from blocks away, luminescent, as if it metaphorically wanted to attract the flies to the fire. And there you were, walking through its doorstep with no other choice, with the necessity to comply with your needs.

Inside it was the complete opposite, the light provided barely allowed you to see the faces of the people, as if it wanted to hide away what was going on in the shadows. Clutching your belongings in one hand and the other tightly hidden in your jacket, you walked straight to the reception of the bar. Your aunt had given you clear instructions on what to do, walk to the reception, tell them your situation, and then they will see what they do with you from there. 

“Hello,” You say awkwardly

The desk was sticky and had every kind of substance stuck into it, there were even some pieces of food on top of it that seemed to have seen better days. Behind it, two young people came and went, a girl and a boy. They took the customers orders and handed them out all at the same time, and in their hurry of keeping up they did not see you there.

“Umm...Hi!,” Your voice went a little bit higher,  the girl looked your way, “Oh, I just wanted…” 

Pressing her hand up in a waiting motion she shut you up. Puffing you sat down in one of the chairs, your backpack pressed to yourself in a comforting manner. Waiting for one of the waiters to help you, you observed the place. Even though it was as dark as it could be, you could see some different scenes going on. 

Some tables were filled with boys not that much older than you, drinking and hollering between each other. Pretty sure their intentions after their meal, go to the back of the building and rent the cheapest girl back there and enjoy her for the night. Some other tables were filled with lonely older men who already had their companions for the night, caressing them and whispering in their ear.

You didn't know how to feel about the situation. You didn't have anywhere to go, no one to go to. Your aunt left a huge debt after her death and now that she's gone, you are the one by default to try and pay it out. Debt caused by the same establishment that you had walked in tonight. Housing debt and prepayment left you with what you have today, a debt that will just keep on growing and won't allow you to do anything else with your life. And you knew that, yet here you were, cause where else to go, what else to do. You didn't have a former education, not more than elementary school at least. It's this or nothing. It's also all that you know, what else would you be good at.

And as you stared uninterestedly to your surroundings a boy's voice brings you back.

“What do you need?” He asked right beside you.

The boy had slick black hair, his eyes were black, and had the fullest lips you had ever seen in your life. He was soft spoken, contradicting the atmosphere. His wide figure did not allow you to see behind him, nor others to see you, it was as if in a sense wanted to protect you from that place. You were more than thankful, for his wide shoulders didn't allow you to see the wandering stares from the people.

“My aunt sent me here, she said you could help” 

The boys stare changed to one of concern, knitting his eyebrows together. His posture was rigid as he stared you down.

“You're no older than eighteen at least”

“I know, but I heard it wasn't a concern here,” You looked at his face, and between his eyes flashed a sense of helplessness. He nodded. 

“Yes...Here, let me take you to the boss,” He let you stand up, “Allow me to take this for you,” He said referring to your backpack.

“Oh no, It's ok. It's not that heavy,” He nodded once again. 

As he turned around and allowed you to follow him, you began to realize that this was actually happening and there was no turning back. He led you through the bars back door, and to your surprise there was a backyard with a long trail leading to the door of another rusty boulding. The night seemed more dark without the luminescent lights of the avenue, it looked trapping. Your hand began shaking, and you noticed that it became a little bit hard to catch your breath. The boy seemed to notice this as he looked back at you three times before he said something.

“My name is Jin, yours?” He smiled warmly. 

You took a big breath before answering, the air getting stuck in your chest.

“y/n, nice to meet you,” You tried to smile, but a grimace came out.

“I know it is not my concern, but the aunt you told me about,” He began opening the door of the building for you, “Does she know you are here?,” He asked as you both entered,  and the first thing that you see is a pair of stairs, two hallways at each of your sides. You looked at him and shook your head timidly. He opened his mouth…

“She died a few day ago”

He closed it rapidly, his eyes widening.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…”

“No no, it's ok. I understand the concern, but I dont have nowhere else to go, and I need a job and a place to stay, and this is the only option that offers both.”

“I understand. I also have nowhere else to go. Here, this way,” He said turning right. “Upstairs are the dorms. As I was saying… I have also nowhere else to go. I have been here for a while actually, maybe a year or so.” 

You nodded as he walked you through the long hallway. The sound of both of your steps resonated in the isolated place. 

“The boss accepts almost everyone that comes, so I guess you won't have a problem. So just know that i'm here if anything happens, ok? This is a rough industry. I won't shame you, I understand what led you here, so don't be afraid to come to me,” He halted.

“Are you also in the industry?”

“Yes and no. I mostly work at the bar, but I take any job the boss tells me to do. I have been rented to go to parties and act as if I was someone's partner, or even once to clean the house of a rich man in only boxers. There's some weird shit out there.”

“So you have never…? You know, had..?”

“Sex? To have sex in exchange of money? Yes, of course. No one escapes from that here. And get used to talking about it, it will take a little bit of the taboo off it. Oh, and here we are”

He said as he pointed behind where you two halted. It was a wood made door, as cheap as it could be, white as the rest of the walls. You stared at it for a few seconds, and turned back to look at Jin, who had a sad smile on his face.

“He's not the sweetest human or earth, nor the kindest, but is the only option you have. He wont do anything to you, I promise. He's just a little bit intimidating. I will be out here for when you finish, yeah?,”

“And the bar?” You asked pointing in the direction.

“I already finished my shift, now go,” He gently pushed you closer to the door.

“Knock” He said under his breath, slowly demonstrating it with his hand. You nodded. 

After knocking softly on the door, you were met with silence. You turned to face Jin once again, but before you could do that, the door was janked wide open. A short but muscly man stood right in front of you, a half shaved mustache on his face and the soulless eyes you had ever seen. 

“Yes?,” His voice sounded rusty, as if he did not wanted to speak at all.

“Hello! My name is y/n. Jin told me you are the boss?,” Silence, “So...I wanted to take up a job here, if it's possible.” 

The man gestured to you inside. Looking behind you Jin nodded at you in comfort, and you went in. The room was as basic as it could be, just one table, two chairs on each side, a cabinet filled with papers and a window, nothing more.

“Take a seat. My name is Park Sunho. Now what exactly are your expectations of this place? Do you know what we do?”

“Yes...My aunt worked here”

That seemed to strike up his interest, as he leaned his body against the table. 

“What was her name?”

“Kim Aeri”

The man nodded and stood up. His back was now turned to you, his hands searching  something frantically on the cabinet. As he turned around, you could see one sack of papers in his hold. His posture was one of an old man, even though he was no more than fifty. His hands shook slightly as he helped himself to sit down again.

“You have debt,” He said uninterestedly, reading the papers he took out.

“Yes, that's why I came,”

“Ok, I'm gonna sign you up and you will be on the market from then on. Usually I will arrange the meetings for you until you get a hang of everything, until then you are under my supervision or one of the other managers.”

You gulped, anxiously realising what is going on. He took another look at the papers, knitting his eyebrows. 

“The debt is several thousands won. I don't know how fast you are gonna be able to clear it out, it depends on how much money you can make me. You have two options”

He left the papers on the table and stared at you, leaning his body forward. 

“You can live in one of the dorms, and not pay rent, but be on constant work hours, or go and rent an apartment somewhere else, which will make you take longer to pay out the debt, due to rent and less working hours, so you tell me.”

Without a second thought you answered.

“I would like to live in one of the dorms, please.”

He seemed pleased, that seemed to be the right answer. 

“Ok, then. I'm gonna sign you up and specify your debt,” He opened a little notebook he had on the side of the desk, and started typing away, “The dorms are actually a room with a bathroom, so you will have to figure out the food thing on your own.  We also don't have many of them, so you will have to share, man, woman, boy, girl, whatever, your luck.”

Your chest tightened even more as you sank down a little on your chair. Feeling helpless as you picked on the skin surrounding your nail.

“Name again?”

“Kim y/n” 

“Right. Usually you also use the dorm to tend a client if they don't call you to meet up somewhere else. And because you are new, I will try to make sure you start working under my roof first. Okay, all set.”

He said standing up, allowing you to do so as well.

“Your dorm is 37B, shared. So good luck.”

You nodded as you headed to the door, desperate to get out and cherish Jin's comfort words, but before you could open the door, he cleared something out.

“If you once mention my work to the authorities, directly or indirectly, I will make sure your debt is tripled and you stay here the rest of your life to pay it out. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” You seemed to not be able to inhale any air anymore.

“Now go, Jin will show you the way to the dorm.”

As Sunho opened the door, you could feel his body even closer now. He smelled of dirt, as if he hadn't showered for days, and you were sure his breath almost smelled of the acid scent of alcohol. Jin stood there, facing the door, his stare long lost on the dirty patches on the walls. As he saw you walk out, a smile spread out on his face. 

“Show her to her dorm Jin, it's 37B,” Before anything could be said, Suhon enclosed himself in the room again.

“Let's go,” Jin said, getting himself off the wall.

Putting your backpack with all your belongings on your back once again, you started following him. Down the hallways, up the stairs you went. The first floor already smelled different, there was a mixture of food, sweat and sex. You could hear the sound of fans, the sound of skin slapping, laughs, and if you paid attention to certain doors, there were wails of sorrow.

The dorms already seemed to be set on an alternative reality. Somewhere where nothing matters, where you're from, what you feel, what is your situation. Everything is set on one thing, offering a service and getting money in return, how you do it it doesn't matter. 

Walking up one more set of stairs, on the second floor, two doors to the left, and besides the broken window, Jin stopped.

“Here we are, 37B,” He pointed to the metallic 37B on the door, “I'm actually two floors up, If you ever need anything, 53C. But you can also find me on the bar, almost every night and so. We will run into each other again, I promise.“

You puffed air out of your nose, rubbing your arms in comfort.

“Thank you Jin, really. But...do you know who I'm sharing it with?” You asked pointing to the door.

He shook his head.

“No, sorry. A lot of people come and go. I have my group, I stick to them, I trust them. I promise you will find your people.”

“How will I meet people here?”

Silence.

“Usually when you have to work with them for a client.”

“Oh..”

Jin laughed. His eyes getting smaller and his bread cheeks appearing. His hand brushed against your shoulder. 

“I told you to get used to this. Try to find me when you're assigned your first client, ok?”

Nodding, you bid him goodbye. You didn't want to let him go, finding too much comfort in his presence, mostly in this new environment. Sighting softly, you put your hand on the door handle. Pushing forward once, your body hit against the door, breathing out, you turned the handle stronger and went forward. The door opened this time. 

Inside two beds could be seen and one wardrobe. The walls were white, the paint coming off in some places, humidity tainting them.  But what caught your attention immediately was the figure sitting on the window sill. There sat a boy, not much older than you, staring directly your way. His hair was black, curls in every way, his doe eyes shined under the soft lightbulb hanging from the roof. With his mouth a little bit opened, a little bit of smoke came out, making you aware of the cigarette on his hand. A hand which was covered in tattoos, contrasting the cleaness of his other arm, lackless of ink.  

“You wanna come in?” He asked, leaving his cigarette on a hole in the wall. 

When he stood up to come closer to you, you could see something you hadn't noticed, he was only in his boxers. When he realised your stare, he chuckled timidly and scratched his neck.

“I'm sorry, I didn't expect them to assign me a roommate so soon. I just attended one of my first clients.”

For the first time you observed the unmade bed in the room. Sheets and pillows tousled everywhere, some wet stains on the mattress. When you turned back to look at him, he was blushing even harder.

“Im sorry, I will clean it right away…”

“It's ok, no need to rush. The more we talk about it, the less taboo it is, right?”

The boy seemed to relax a little.

“Right. My name is jungkook, yours?”

“y/n”

He smiled.

“Well let me organize all of this, and you can get comfortable, put your things away and we can get started”

That seemed to startle you.

“Start what?” You softly asked.

“Your training period”

This new life was gonna be harder than you thought. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi everyone! I hope you can enjoy this fic. Please like, roblog, comment, It means the world to me. Thank you so much for reading!🥰

[emiewritesthings]

locked down with you (1)- jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: a series of scenarios between y/n and jay whilst they quarantine together

requested?: nope but requests are open :)

warnings: language but basically just fluff

a/n: still being in lockdown has made me think about what it would be like to be living with jay during these times. the following is just a strange combinations of scenarios i have thought about. not sure i how i feel about them :/

masterlist

day 1 of lockdown

“is that the last box?” jay called out as he reappeared from his room with a sweaty brow and a large smile on his face. he wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to seeing your clothes hung up beside his own in his wardrobe, or your shows lined up beside his by the door. it was strange, but it felt... natural.

“i think so, wow is it sad that my whole life can be packed up into 5 boxes?” y/n asked, collapsing onto the sofa breathing out heavily. jay let out a small chuckle, before he joined her, melting into the cushions that supported their bodies. 

“well that’s not true, that was just your clothes, you still have an entire apartment of things waiting for you back home.” he corrected, with a smug smile pointed. the pad of it flicking her nose, making a childish giggle escape her parted lips. “but who knows by the end of this thing you might need to bring those over too.” jay hummed, leaning closer to her with lustful eyes. in a matter of seconds, his lips pressed lazy kisses against her neck, the sensation taking y/n’s body to a new level of euphoria

“just give it a week, halstead. you will be so sick of me you will have to kick me out.” she challenged, watching as he pulled his lips away from her skin for a moment. allowing their foreheads to rest against one another, eyes both equalling challenging the other to make the next mood. in a moment of weakness, it had been y/n to lean forward, igniting the warmth in their chest. 

“if anything, i don’t think i will be able to let you go.” his breaths were rugged, only parting to say the last few words before he reconnected their lips. his hands respectfully running over her body, admiring the way it curved and held its unique shape. 

he sure could get used to this.

--

day 3 of lockdown

“jay!” y/n whined impatiently as she threw her head back to demonstrate just how tired she was becoming. a strange ache running up her spine from the position she was currently sat in. her back arched as she rested against the arm of the sofa. her fingers pinching a pencil as she looked between her sketchpad and the angelic man sat a few centimetres away. “i thought i told you not to move.” 

jay’s eyes narrowed in confusion, as he looked up from the pile of paperwork he had to complete by the end of the day. seeing his girlfriend sat in a large hoodie that she had stolen from their wardrobe and a pair of shorts, a look of boredom and frustration etched on her features, he had to question what the hell was going on.

“what are you talking about?” jay asked, in all honesty, he had been so focused on his work that he had tuned the woman out. from the look of art supplies spread over the floor, he could only assume she was occupying her day off with fulfilling her craving to be artistic. 

“you know what, it doesn’t even matter anymore,” she sighed, closing up the book in her hands. “it was stupid anyway.” she muffled into the sleeve of her sweater, attempting to walk out of the living room towards the kitchen, a place she had labelled her ‘happy place’ from the moment she stepped into the apartment. slight guilt seeped into jay’s mind as he pushed himself away from the sofa cushions and wrapped her up in his bulky, warm arms.

“i’m sorry.” he apologised, arms trapping her in what only could be described as a bear hug. from her small frame, jay managed to rest his chin on the top of her head, until he brought his face down to kiss her cheek softly. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” he repeated between each.

y/n felt her mood slightly, reminding herself of the effect the man had on her. she felt like mush in his hands that he was able to sculpt in whatever way he wanted and she had no objections. 

“now what do we have here?” he spoke more to himself as he took the sketchpad from her hands, his fingers playing with the edge of the pages until he stopped on a page with a rather large sketch. the pencil lines were faint, but it didn’t take jay a moment to recognise the large image illustrated on the page. “holy shit, y/n.”

feeling her cheeks heat up, she tried to hide her face with her sleeves. she didn’t like to share her work with anyone, with fear that she would be laughed out of the room. but listening to jay’s taken aback tone made the butterflies in her stomach jump without any consideration for y/n’s wellbeing.

“i know it’s not the best, but-.” she attempted to denounce her clear display of talent by breaking out the embrace, but jay only held onto her tighter. using what control he had to turn her around to face him. he had placed the sketch on the coffee table, so he could focus fully on the beautiful woman standing in front of him.

“it’s amazing,” jay assured, his gaze diving deep into the soul present behind the beautiful colours of y/n’s eyes. “you are amazing, i’m sorry i’m so busy.” y/n didn’t need an apology. she knew that jay’s job was much more demanding than her own. it just seemed being forced to do nothing didn’t feel as good as when she chose to do nothing before any of this quarantine business was mentioned. 

“do you want some help?” she offered, not wanting to intrude. her teeth brought in her bottom lip to bite in anticipation worried she had crossed the line. jay’s hand reached up to rest on the side of her face, his thumb resting on her chin as he brought it down to rescue her lip.

“you are the best, you know that?” 

“ugh, come on, romeo.” 

day 9 of lockdown

“okay-.” y/n began as she entered the bedroom, her body wrapped in a towel and her hair leaving water droplets behind her. it was sometime in the late afternoon and jay was laying on their bed. his attention had been caught by a book y/n had brought, but it had been stolen when she had entered the room.

“i don’t know what you’re about to say but i know it’s going to be a bad idea.” jay discouraged, he knew her. he knew her more than anyone else in this world. the way her voice had raised slightly at the end and she was currently avoiding eye contact with the detective, telling him that she was about to make to offer a foolish plan.

“no fair, you have to at least hear me out!” she whined like a child, searching around for her bras that were normally flung in different directions, thanks to a little too happy detective. jay watched her with a loving grin, she made him feel so alive. 

“okay, proceed.” he gestured as though he was king of the castle ordering his servants around. flicking her middle finger up at the man, disappearing into the bathroom once again, but her voice could still be made out.

“i want to dye my hair!” jay couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine the little hop she had done in excitement at telling him about her idea. “or maybe shave my head, you know, since lockdown could go on for the rest of the year, it’s not like anyone will see it.” 

letting out a deep chuckle, he waited until she reappeared to respond. her body, cladded in sweats (for once ones that belonged to her), collapsed down beside him. curling into the side of his body. she stared up at him dazedly, trying to read the thoughts behind his eyes.

“it’s your body, your choice,” he shrugged, his right hand coming to his side so he could grab ahold of her own. when interlocking their fingers, he made sure to run his thumb over her knuckles comforting. “i don’t care if you shaved off all your hair and your eyebrows whilst wearing a potato sack, you will always be beautiful to me.” 

“i love you.” she hummed, leaning up to kiss his lips.

“i love you too.” 

--

day 16 of lockdown

“y/n hurry up it’s on!” y/n heard as she grabbed a few beers from the fridge. as she reached the living room, she grinned at the sight of kevin, kim, adam, will, natalie on the computer screen. 

“hey guys!” she squealed, giving jay a beer before putting the rest on the coffee table that the computer currently rested on. 

“oh shit, now i owe kevin 10 bucks.” adam whined, his image slightly pixelated from his poor connection. frowning, y/n looked towards jay that was equally as confused. they then turned their gaze towards kevin, who wore a large smug smirk.

“ruzek here betted me 10 bucks that you two would have killed one another by day 14.” y/n let out a snort of laughter, throwing her head back in amusement. of course, kevin had bet in their corner, had it not been for him, jay and y/n wouldn’t have been together in the first place. 

“honestly i wouldn’t have blamed you, y/n,” will spoke up, “it takes a saint to deal with jay’s slobbiness. i think i have only ever seen jay clean his room twice, mom always took pity on him.” will chuckled, making jay cower in embarrassment. y/n had seen first-hand jay’s ability to create a mess in a matter of minutes. a stray sock here, an empty pizza box there. before she knew it, they were eligible for Hoarders USA. 

“shut up, will, are we starting this quiz or what?” jay changed the subject, trying to get over the embarrassment of being laughed at by their closest friends. in an attempt to cool him down, y/n hooked her pinky around his. offering him a soft smile when he looked up in her direction.

“hope you guys are ready to lose.” she teased, turning back to face the screen. jay watched the way she acted so freely, a kind smile never slipping from her face, her touch soothing his soul. at that moment he couldn’t help but think ‘this will be the woman i marry’

--

day 34 of lockdown

“-alright, alright i think he’s on his way. i’ll see you later.” y/n rushed out as she jumped off her position sat on the edge of the bed. her heartbeat was thumping against her chest as she shoved her phone back into her pocket, aware the sound of water had fallen silent. 

it was jay’s birthday and y/n had been planning it for the past two weeks. unfortunately, it was well known that y/n y/l/n was awful keeping secrets. it was as though when she knew something, good or bad, she felt an immense amount of pressure, which ended in her exploding and spilling all to the one person she normally wasn’t meant to. but she was determined that this would be like the other times. she had gone the extra mile in avoiding conversation with jay, knowing one slip and her whole plan was ruined. 

“hey, baby!” jay yelled, y/n’s body jumped in shock. his footsteps growing nearer until he appeared in front of him. his muscled torso on show as his bottom half was hidden away by a large grey towel. jay noticed y/n’s jumpy behaviour immediately, his eyes drawing nearer as he examined her face. “what’s wrong?”

“wrong? with me? pfft, nothing’s wrong with me. absolutely nothing. w-what’s wrong with you?” she rushed out, leaning her weight against the dressing table until her hand slipped and she quickly caught herself before hitting her head on the wood. jay shook his head in amusement, he had been worried for the past few days that he had upset the woman. she was unusually quiet, which normally indicated that something was wrong, considering she hated silence. 

“doesn’t matter.” 

seeing jay withdraw from her made her want to reach out, but her mind already ticked over to something else. running into the guest room, she reappeared with a shoe-like box. not knowing what to say, she shoved the box in his direction innocently. jay pecked her lips lightly, taking the box and taking a seat as he ripped the sparkly paper she had found in a random drawer.

removing the box lid, he peered into the box with curiosity. in a matter of seconds the teasing look fell from his face, replaced with a loss of words. in the box resided memories that up until that moment had been in the back of jay’s mind. letters that the pair had sent back and forth all those years ago when he had been enlisted in afghanistan. photos from jay’s police academy graduation, dates, christmases anything that held a sentimental feeling y/n wished to recreate. 

“y-you kept all this stuff?” he asked, his fingers grabbing a small blue teddy bear that’s fur was slightly matted from the dust that had tainted its texture and colour. the very bear y/n had brought jay the time he had broke his arm back when they were kids, she had forced her mother to buy the bear from the giftshop knowing that it would cheer the boy up. she was right, of course she was right.

“of course i did,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder, watching him study each individual object. “throwing away any of this stuff made me feel like i was throwing a bit of us, you know?” y/n felt stupid, but only the slight blush on her cheeks gave it away to anyone that looked close enough.

“thank you, thank you for everything.” snaking his arms around her, he brought his chest close to his chest. sometimes he felt like they were still the kids that would climb through each other’s windows just so they could hold one another and remind the other they weren’t alone. “i love you so much, i’m so happy i have you in my life.” 

the tears brimming in y/n’s eyes were not missed by the detective, he didn’t miss anything she did. she was like art to him, something beautiful, at times a little misunderstood, but beautiful nevertheless. lifting his head to connect their lips, the two took their time, slowly allowing the lust to push its way through. before it could progress any further a loud blare made them jump apart.

“what the-.” jay began, watching as y/n pushed her way off the seat and running out the door. hesitantly he followed, leading his way out of the house until he found y/n grinning childishly. 

“happy birthday, man!” pulling his eyes away from his girl, he found the familiar cars driving slowly down the road. the lights on the large black cars blaring as kevin leaned out the front car, whilst adam and kim leaned out the second. with the confusion seeping into the feeling of surprise, he felt y/n leave his side before reappearing. this time, her arms held out a large cake that had clearly been homemade considering the way the lettering that spelt out ‘happy birthday, jay’ slowly got smaller towards the end.

“you did all this for me?” he asked astounded, despite y/n being the most affectionate and loving person he knew.

“of course i did,” she responded as if it was the most ridiculous questions she had ever heard. “i meant what i said jay, i love you. this is the least i could do considering all you do for me.” the heart to heart was rudely interrupted by the blaring of a car horn.

“you guys can do your thing later, just blow out the candles!” adam complained, earning a thwack over the arm by kim. “i mean, totally up to you, buddy. happy birthday!” 

jay chuckled, as he took in a deep breath and blew out the many candles that sprinkled over the sweet treat. before he ignored the cheers of his friends and kissed y/n passionately. 

“this might just be the best birthday ever.” he grinned. 

“happy birthday, baby.”

[majoraop]

I wrote the first draft of this story for a zine that never happened, so I decided to revise, expand, and finally publish it for the “first meeting” prompt on my card of the One Piece Bingo organized by @op-pirate-fleet. My nakama (The-Replicant), suggested me the ASL secret code, and @starblazer124 kindly beta-read the old version of this story. I may write more fanfics based on this alternate timeline, but you can read this one shot as a standalone.  ^^

The Marine Recruit and the Kind Pirate (Marine Headquarters, one month ago) That morning, Bell-mère had not expected to be summoned by the Vice-Admiral.   Even less, she had expected a twelve-year-old rookie like herself to be assigned a mission of the utmost secrecy. At the age of twelve, she wasn’t even a sailor yet but just a rookie. She always took her tasks seriously, though, so she prepared her sack immediately: in a few days, she would set sail to a small kingdom in the East Blue.   My very first mission.  The young girl grinned with confidence, grabbed a tangerine from her personal supply, and peeled it while humming to herself. --- (Goa Kingdom, present time) “I’ll leave her to you then!”   “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll keep this a secret.”   Bell-mère observed the old vice-admiral grinning and chatting a little more with that young woman named Makino. Then, he rudely ruffled her hair with his large hand and said goodbye. Bell-mère sighed. Now, she had to re-do her ponytail. One day I’ll shave my head, she decided, fiddling with her rebellious fuchsia locks.   “Let me help you, Bell-chan.”   Bell-mère eyed the woman, still unsure about what to think about her. Garp was on friendly terms with her, so she must be a trusted person. However, Bell-mère had spotted an infamous red-haired pirate drinking in her bar. Her kindness felt genuine though, so she accepted her help.   “Is something bothering you?” Makino asked while tying her hair up.   Bell-mère didn’t reply immediately. She had noticed the bartender glancing at that pirate with eyes full of respect, fondness, and maybe more. “I don’t like pirates,” she just said, not wanting to hurt the woman’s feelings.   “I see.” Makino smiled. “Well, let’s talk a bit about it on our way to Mt. Colubo.”   Bell-mère nodded and followed her up a steep trail just outside Windmill Village. She was supposed to meet with Garp’s grandchild and some other kids who lived in the forest with a middle-aged woman: Garp had told her that she had been a bandit in the past, but now she was more like his trusted babysitter.   “I know there are nasty pirates out there, Bell-chan,” Makino said as they walked through the trees. “But kind ones exist too.”   “My parents were killed by pirates.” Bell-mère didn’t remember them, and the Marine was her family now, but sometimes she wondered what kind of people they had been.   Makino stopped and turned around. “I’m sorry about that,” she murmured understandingly.   Bell-mère saw that there was no trace of dishonesty in her eyes, so she smiled at her and said, “Don’t worry, Makino-san. You couldn’t know.”   “One day, I would like to introduce you to that pirate you saw earlier. By meeting him, you will maybe understand what I mean.”   “Ok,” Bell-mère said cautiously, mildly curious. Besides, even Garp himself often did borderline when not outright illegal things—for example, hiding children in the house of a former bandit. She didn’t know the whole story, but rumours said that one of the children was the very son of the late Pirate King. Another, instead, had lived in a junkyard until being “adopted” by that bandit called “Dadan”. And there should be two siblings from a faraway island, too. Bell-mère had heard Garp telling his superiors they were nothing less than the sons of a fallen World Noble. She had no idea how Garp had learned about such forbidden topics, but she had a job to do and would do it without making questions.   “Dadan lives up there.”   The sun was down on the horizon when Makino gestured towards a poor-looking house in the meadow ahead. More than that, though, what caught Bell-mère’s attention was a nearby miniature “fortress”. On its top, a flag made of patched fabric said “ASL’s Country”.   Next to the shabby hut, a child looking no older than seven and wearing a straw hat sat on the grass, a sad expression on his face. Bell-mère could hear an animated discussion coming from inside and wondered if it had something to do with his mood. The next moment, though, the child ran to Makino and threw himself into her arms. “I missed you!” he said with the largest smile ever.   “Me too, Luffy-kun.” Makino hugged him affectionately. “What’s happening?” She gestured towards the “fortress”.   The kid’s expression changed back into a pout. “There are these new kids—I would like to become friends with them, but Ace doesn’t want!”   “I’ll talk with him,” Makino offered kindly.   “Sabo tried already, but Ace won’t listen!” Then, the child finally noticed Bell-mère. “Who are you?” he asked, tilting his head on the side.   “I’m Bell, a marine in training.”   Luffy’s smile came back. “So you know my grandpa?”   “Sure!” Bell-mère grinned at him. She wondered if the Vice-Admiral had been like him as a kid. “Why don’t you become a marine too?” She was there for the very purpose of persuading him and the other children to join the Navy. “I’ll be your friend if you come back with me.”   “No thanks,” the kid replied with an innocent smile. “What I’m going to be is the King of Pirates!”   Bell-mère groaned. She already knew from Garp that his grandchild was a troublemaker, but she wouldn’t give up so easily. “What about becoming a marine hero, instead?” “Nope,” Luffy said, still smiling brightly. “Heroes need to share meat, and I don’t want!”   “It won’t be easy to convince him, Bell-chan.” Makino chuckled. “Well, let’s see what’s happening in there.”   When Makino knocked on the crooked door, a voice from inside recited, “If you bring a bone, just begone!”   A secret code? That piqued Bell-mère’s interest.   “The right answer is”—Luffy whispered in Makino’s ear—“‘if you bring meat, then take a seat.’”   Bell-mère’s jaw dropped. Spilling out their secret code so nonchalantly…Garp’s grandson would never become a good marine like that!   “Thank you, Luffy-kun.” Makino smiled at him. Then, she repeated the phrase louder.   “Come in,” said the same voice of before.   Once inside, Bell-mère’s eyes needed a moment to adjust to the dim light of the single candle sitting at the centre of a chipped wooden table.   When she was able to see better, she noticed four children staring at them. The child with dark hair and an annoyed expression on his freckled face caught her attention first; then, she glanced at the three blond kids. One of them grinned at Makino with a missing tooth that gave him a cheeky look, while the remaining two children sat closer to each other: the shorter one had a messy fringe that covered his eyes, and he clung to the shirt of a slightly older kid wearing shades. Probably they were the fallen noble’s sons. According to Garp’s description, the eldest brother went by the name of “Doffy” and was the hardest to approach.   “Why don’t you try to get along with your new friends, Ace-kun?” Makino addressed the freckled kid, interrupting Bell-mère’s thoughts.   “I can’t be friends with spies,” Ace muttered, crossing his arms and looking sideways.   Had he just blushed? Bell-mère couldn’t tell for sure, but she had an idea of what was going on there. Brat. She rolled her eyes. You are way too young for her.   A bit surprised, Makino asked, “Spies?”   “Yes, spies,” repeated the kid. “They've arrived here suddenly and look like spoiled brats—they aren’t like us!”   “Here he goes again,” the kid with a missing tooth sighed.   “Stay out of this, Sabo!” Ace snapped.   “But Ace…” Luffy snivelled.   “We’re wasting our time here. Come on, Roci.” The glasses kid made for the door with a grim expression, but his younger brother didn’t seem as eager to leave.   “But brother,” he whimpered, “I’m hungry...”   “I’ll find you something to eat. Now let’s go.”   “Why don’t we all have dinner together instead?” Makino proposed. “Dadan is waiting for us.”   Bell-mère glanced up at Makino’s reassuring smile. “I’m hungry too,” she said, trying to be helpful.   “I want meat!” Luffy yelled, throwing his arms up. “Meat! Meat! Meat!” he bounced around, gaining a laugh from Sabo.   Even Ace smiled at that, but he tried not to make anyone notice. A moment later, he glared at the “spies” and conceded, “You can eat with us, but I still don’t trust you.”   “It’s decided then!” Makino clapped her hands happily. She took Luffy by the hand and added, “Let’s go introduce Bell-mère to Dadan and help her make dinner.”   “Wait, who is this little girl?” Ace pointed with his chin to Bell-mère.   “I’m not a little girl!” she yelled, realising too late she wasn’t supposed to lose her cool like that.   Ace smirked. “Of course you are.”   “I’m still older than you. And I’m a marine in training.”   “A marine? Disgusting.”   Bell-mère was about to Garp-punch him when a tiny voice caught her attention.   “I...I want to become a marine too. You—I m-mean, marines look cool. And strong.”   Bell-mère turned towards the child speaking from behind his brother’s back, his cheeks red from the embarrassment.   “Stop speaking nonsense,” his brother reproached him.   Ignoring that remark, Bell-mère observed his younger brother. He looked frail and was way too shy, but with some training, maybe…   “I want to play with you even if you like marines!” said Luffy, gaining a smack on the head by Ace.   Sabo burst out laughing. “You’re so funny, Luffy!” he said, holding his stomach.   Bell-mère chuckled, too. She wondered if, one day, Luffy would become one of those “kind pirates” as well…   Garp won’t like this.   The young marine recruit shrugged that thought off and followed the group to the bandit-turned-babysitter’s house with a grin on her face. Since she was there, she intended to have fun at least.

[joshslater]

Cheat Day

This is a rewrite of a story I read like a year ago and forgot to bookmark in any way. Please sent a note if you know where to find the original... Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

Michael stared at the door. There was still time to back out. To go back home and accuse Tom of cheating. Although Michael was assertive, tough even, he didn’t like confrontation. Not real, emotional confrontation. As soon as he saw the text he knew it wasn’t just another Grindr hookup. He and Tom decided very early on that sex and love were two very different things, and whatever they did to each other in the bedroom would only get better if they had inspiration from other encounters.

Still, looking at the door it felt like cheating. He had been pacing the apartment for minutes in a mix of emotions. Sadness, anger, jealousy, disbelief. He had opened all the hookup apps he had in an impulsive fit of desperately seeking a revenge fuck. A revenge fuck with someone else. It was only minutes later that he had found Jonathan, who appeared as eager as him, nearby, and with a matching profile. Gay bottom who needed a quick fuck.

Now in front of the door he wasn’t at all as sure anymore. Standing someone up wasn’t cool either. At the very least he should say sorry in person. He rung the door.

Almost instantly the door flung open and a revealed a good looking guy a year older than Michael, according to his profile. “Hey, big dude”, he said and placed a long, sloppy kiss on Michael. There wasn’t really any size difference between the two. In fact, apart from their faces they looked pretty much alike. Two skinny guys in their late twenties with a few days shade, similar haircuts and tattooed sleeves that looked the same if you squinted a lot. They even dressed alike, tight jeans and casual, high quality untucked shirt, rolled sleeves and not buttoned all the way up. ”You’re really gonna like this.” he said when he finally peeled away from the kiss. Michael could nothing but agree.

“I’m Michael. I guess I should ask if you are Jonathan, but with that greeting I would be very disappointed if I had to leave.” Jonathan smiled a wry smile. “Trust me, you are not leaving without my permission”, and he placed another slobbering kiss.

“I like your hair. I guess you need something practical with all the gym time you clock. Fits with the whole dumb jock image you’re going for.” If Michael had a dumb look, it was because he had no idea what Jonathan was talking about. He hadn’t been in a gym for months. He could live off donuts and coffee and still not put on any weight, try as he might. Jonathan’s hands were all over him, while he kicked the door shut. “I bet it takes a lot to keep such a muscled body. I bet you meal prep twice a week, eat five times a day, and stay off all processed food, all sweets, all alcohol. That takes some serious dedication.” Oh! Michael could see what he was doing. He was setting up a role playing scene.

“Lifting is life, bro” Michael tried. “There’s my fucking gym bro. It’s all about the gains and looking good naked. That’s why you shave everything below the nose, right? To make the muscles show better.”

Jonathan smiled and kissed Michael deep again, while his hands where all up inside Michael’s shirt. Michael had never shaved anything except for his face, and recently he hadn’t bother with anything but running a trimmer a few times a week.

“It’s time for your post-workout shake, right? Best time while you still have that after sweat glow. I have it ready in the kitchen for you.” “Thanks. Sure is, bro”

Michael couldn’t remember when he last had one. Years ago at least. It was chalky and not at all something he would ever ask for again. He followed Jonathan into the kitchen, and as soon as he entered Jonathan threw a plastic shaker at him. “Catch! Chug it! You’ll love it.”

It tasted like vanilla. Strangely he did like it. Had he even had lunch, or was that forgotten too in the whole text message and cheating business? Something about Jonathan made both his dick and thinking really hard. No other bottom he’d met had ever been so assertive, so in charge. But bottom and sub were different things, and he couldn’t deny that it made him want to fuck his brains out all the more. So when Jonathan led him to the bedroom he was actually worried the amount of pre-cum would show.

“Let’s stop cosplaying and get this shit off you!” Jonathan said and ripped Michael’s shirt open, sending buttons in all directions. “What the hell, bro?” “You know anything with buttons are too inconvenient. You never use them.”

He unbuttoned Michael’s jeans for him. “Get naked and get in bed.” Confused he did as he was told and kicked off his shoes and slid down his jeans and boxers. Not only was his dick and balls slippery and shiny of pre-cum, but all of his body was glistening of sweat in the dim bedroom light. As he stepped out of the pile of clothes he realized he was completely smooth. Not a single hair as far as he could see. It made sense, since he was playing jock and it would make the muscles really pop, but something about it wasn’t right. He reached for the socks, but Jonathan stopped him. “That’s enough! On your back!”

Michael might be playing a dumb jock, but he knew something was terribly wrong. Very slowly he sat down on the bed. His arms looked pathetic. The rest of the body too. But that was just disappointing, not really something to be alarmed about. Jonathan stepped forward, grabbed both his legs and raised them from the floor, forcing Michael on his back.

“Let’s fuck you into shape, shall we?” he said and thrust his dick into Michael’s ass. Michael wasn’t prepared at all for the onslaught and sounded an indiscreet yelp. His brain was going through questions, looking for the right one. Why was he lying down while Jonathan was standing up? And again, a second thrust. Why was he almost naked while Jonathan had only unbuttoned his jeans? A loud belch escaped from him. He could feel his stomach churning. Why was he the one getting fucked and not Jonathan? As the third thrust hit he could feel an ache reverberate through his whole body.

“Tom likes being the big spoon, doesn’t he? He likes that while you are the one bossing him around, he is the bigger one, the one that protects you while you sleep, even though he doesn’t have much muscles.” Wave after wave of pain was flooding Michael. He felt like he really ought to know who Tom was. It was somehow important. Jonathan was fucking him with, deep, slow strokes. “He doesn’t like big, bulky muscles. They gross him out. The upper body is the worst.” Michael wanted the pain to stop. It felt like he was being stretched on a rack. “Big, bouncy pecs that puff up and out the chest. Big delts that makes the shoulders look wide and clumsy. Huge traps that misshapes the top of the shirt. And worst of all, big, bulging biceps that strains the fabric of any normal sleeve, and risk tearing it if you bend your arm. He hates it all.” The pain was ever shifting for Michael. The bone crushing pain mutated into a burning sensation. He let out another long burp. What was Jonathan talking about again? It was so hard to concentrate.

“And legs! Big, thick thighs that makes it impossible for you walk properly and pushes your junk out, so it looks obscene whatever you do. Tom would be disgusted. The massive body and legs makes your average dick look small. Your massive balls just makes it look even smaller. And veins. Big irregular veins snaking up and down the arms and legs, like an erect dick.” Jonathan was pumping furiously now, getting close to climax. Michael’s head was spinning. He was just happy the pain had subdued into a tingling sensation. Then Jonathan just stopped and there was a second of calm where Michael couldn’t think of anything. Then they both exploded, Michael pumping squirts after squirts of warm cum up in the air, while at the same time he could feel Jonathan emptying his load inside of him. Both of them appeared to have limitless supply. Michael felt something else as well, how the body was shifting. It felt like he was moving around, or like the sheet was being pulled from under him.

No, he wasn’t moving. He was growing, he realized. It was as if Jonathan was inflating a balloon with his cum. He himself was emptied his balls all over himself in an uneven smattering of sticky frosting. He realized everything Jonathan had said about Tom was true. He was rapidly turning into the kind of body Tom would laugh at. Mock. Be repulsed by, even. “Please. Please stop. Whatever reason you think you have for doing this, it’s wrong. This is all wrong.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow while shooting a last few shots of cum into Michael.

Jonathan withdrew and stepped back a step, panting and clearly exhausted. “Yeah, this is wrong.” With his dick still out of the jeans he climbed into the bed next to Michael. Michael wanted to shrug back, to get away, but his body just laid there like a sack of whey. Without hesitation Jonathan placed his hands around Michael’s throat and started to squeeze. “No! Please! Don’t kill me! Please, stop doing this.” The pitch of his voice was slowly going up, until the last two words when it crashed down octaves. “Please, just stop”

Michael’s voice was deep, touching on African American, but still somehow youthful. “That’s better. Now, sit up beef boy, I want to show you something.” Jonathan slapped Michael on the shoulder with a wet and meaty thud, got up from the bed, and went to the wardrobes along the wall. Michael sat up in the bed, noting that he was not only more muscled than anyone he knew, but quite a bit taller than before. Jonathan opened one of the wardrobes and revealed a full length mirror mounted on the inside of the door.

Michael didn’t see himself in the mirror. Somehow the sum of the parts made a bigger impact than just seeing and feeling them on their own. He was surprised how young his face looked. Barely twenty, he would guess. It looked utterly wrong on top of that massive body. Young, dumb, and above all immature looking. Like he went to gym instead of high school and juiced his way to his twenties. If you wanted to lab grow the antithesis to what turned Tom on, this would be it. “Why are you doing this?”

Jonathan’s face twisted into a snarl of contempt, took a step back and grabbed Michael’s head between his hands, pressed the palms into his cheeks until the lips parted and forcefully spit a glob of saliva into Michael’s mouth. He then leaned down and made another long kiss. “I’ll tell you, Brad, why I’m fucking doing this.”

Brad? Michael was sitting, slacked jawed looking up at Jonathan. He glanced down, seeing his reflection in the mirror behind Jonathan. For a short moment he expected to see Michael in the mirror, but of course he didn’t. He’s Brad. Anyone can see that. Jonathan stepped in, replacing his view of the mirror with Jonathan’s erect dick.

“Suck it! You love sucking dick more than anything, you cum guzzling bottom slut! You worthless piece of shit. You were never good enough for Tom. He’s supposed to be with me! You never appreciated the way he looked at you, the way he changed to accommodate you, to be part of your life. You’re were too fucking stupid to get that! Now you are too dumb to read a newspaper. Too stupid for any joke that isn’t practical, like pantsing someone in the weight room or squirting bronzer in their butt crack.”

Jonathan still held Brad’s head with both hands, moving it back and forth to forcefully pump his dick down Brad’s throat. Brad wanted to help, to please, but there was very little he could do, beside making gagging noises.

“You don’t remember what Tom looks like anymore. You can’t remember where you met, where you used to eat together, where you lived together. You don’t even think of love or relationships anymore. You can’t plan more than to your next meal prep, fucking loser. Your life only revolves around gym, sports and sex. Those are the only things that matters, the only things you plan for, the only things you talk about.”

Jonathan let go of Brad’s head, and was just standing there panting, dick in mouth. Brad could finally start to take an active part, letting his tongue play over Jonathan’s cock head. He started to slowly suck the dick in long, deliberate motions. Jonathan collected himself, somehow relieved to have revealed his feelings for Tom, and suddenly almost surprised to be in the middle of getting a blowjob. He sounded much calmer as he continued.

“You don’t like how you look naked. You think your dick looks ridiculous and tiny next to your giant balls, so you prefer to always be fucked wearing a jock strap.  You try to keep other clothes on, like you are wearing socks now, to take attention away from the jock strap. You try to have sex where and how being partially clothed makes sense. On the bench in the gym. In an alley outside. In the bleachers. In the dugout. And your massive balls are pumping so much hormones into you, you’re horny almost as soon as you’ve cum. You’ll swallow so much jizz you put it in your weekly macros.”

Brad was fully erect again, with a dollop of viscous pre-cum visible at the tip of his cock head. Jonathan was resting a hand on his head.

“Your body is never good enough. There is always more lifting, tanning, running, shaving, bulking or cutting to be done. You always want to look ready for gym, showing off what you got. Wearing bright clothes that makes people look. You want to be noticed, the center of every room you go into. How else can you get the attention to get everyone to fuck you? Loud, happy, clueless, obnoxious.”

With no warning Jonathan came again. Only a few pumps this time. Brad could feel something warm inside of him, but unlike a coffee or cocoa, it quickly spread out into all his body, and up his neck into his head. He let himself fall backwards into the bed, leaving a trailing string of cum and saliva between his lips and Jonathan’s dick, before it broke. His head was spinning. What was he doing here again. He was having sex with someone, wasn’t he? But he was still so fucking horny. In the corner of his eye he watched the guy leave the bedroom. He grabbed his slippery dick and started to masturbate. He needed to cum so badly.

The guy came back into the room with a pile of clothes, and threw it on his sweaty and cum sticky stomach. Brad felt caught and embarrassed and put both hands over his dick.

“Here, get dressed.” “Bro, you need to like fuck me.” “Sorry dude. Not my type.” “Not cool bro. I sucked you.” “Get dressed and I’ll help you find someone.” “How you’ll do that, bro?” “I’ll set up some fuck app accounts for you. I’ll even take pics and write a bio for you.” “Dope. Hurry tho. I’m so fucking horny.”

[vilegroove]

Lyrics from 'Dark Tales From The Insulation Booth' (03/31/21)

For all those hip-hop purists and anyone wanting to get down with that Hank Solo lingo.

STEM CELL RESEARCH

It goes counterintelligence, Berenstein psy-op Schwarzschild radius, holographic mind job I’m a ticking time bomb stuck inside this nightmare It’s warfare for the welfare of the poor From tenement to parliament the charlatans of artifice In shadows stocking armaments or ornaments with arguments Coordinates are carpeted while Harlequins are marketed Unfortunate subordinates are targeted by Artemis I sit solo, spit a mental freestyle No polo, UH I spent it on these re-fries Meanwhile I filleth up the syllabus In real time and if I spill enough to pick it up I just might reach minds Smash atoms, push phantoms into chasms Is it a random happenstance Or a predetermined anthem? Step inside a web this some spider vs fly shit Step into a world this some Illuminati eye shit What would you do if you had no shoes? And you had no rules and you had no school? What would you choose? If the choice ain’t yours Ain’t your chore, Ain’t your war, Ain’t your battle, Ain’t your fight You’re just standing in line man waiting to die They pulling strings with grizzled fingers While the stem cell research helps them linger Tempers up, fear the farming In a cave under threat of a terror bombing Nails clawing, the cause of flesh wounds Supply and demand panoramic cesspools Inhale jet fuel on the way to school man Chemtrails forming the new pollutant Confusing the students and keeping them stupid Obtuse attitudes, man, these dudes be ruthless On point to the point I barricade the joint Inhale, exhale man this tasters choice Blue bloods eschew mud, chew cud like us cattle We battered and bruised up but we still fucking battle Never let em get to you - Ask me bout the subterfuge War and peace entwining in an ever whirling centrifuge Veteran rookie: Dichotomy so sue me Used to Hank Solo now I roar like Wookie

SHARK TANK (feat. CHIEFFY)

[VERSE 1 - HANK]

Christ I get wicked when I'm alone and I'm lit Smoke clones and then spit till I foam at the lips My ego cast a shadow that could cause an eclipse And I can't get through doors cause my head won't fit I'm starvin' like Marvin, lookin' for a target I'm barkin' dark jargon like I'm stalkin' park joggers My though pattern is laced with dark matter Fight alien races is space an spark blaster I spit lines for like minds who smoke kind I write rhymes with weight that warp space time Ante-up I'm about to erupt Krakatoa flow all over Like I'm bustin' a nut, spray paint Jackson Pollock All over her gut - Dirty Harry on the mic But you ain't sweeping me up I'm a sad sap but I can rhyme not half bad Cause I been mixing words since I was sperm Inside my dads sack Yakkity-Yak Don't talk back, as a matter of fact Rewind the track back so you can practice your rap I'm high gloss your skills are not polished You're whack and lack knowledge Go back to clown college - Fuck taxes, pay homage I'm glad you acknowledged Hank is just flawless I'm bank your just wallet

[MAIN HOOK × 2]

I'm cold like deep space I master this pace Knock you flat face In fact my sharp skates Cut circles round you lark fakes Question what marks make Shave you to carp flakes For use in my shark tank

[BRIDGE - CHIEFFY]

Let’s jump in it, I’m with it I’m finna kill it and stay I've been the realest Since dealers was Shitting diapers away Blank face I don’t keep it at bay

[VERSE 2 - CHIEFFY]

No whale watching, I’m hopping But no landing, I’m offing to each planet I’m locked in, nigga said I’m a Martian You niggas fandom, I’m popping But got plans to just pop him I’m a man no ones stopping Fire plans imma watch them gain Burn away just like Mary Jane I put away, she too nice for days, make way Cause I’m burning all the mainframes No place to lay I ain’t keeping all you plain janes Just some grams and Violas In my denim jeans, we keep it real Chef Chief serving up them fiends. Mother Fucker.

[MAIN HOOK × 2]

Hank: Alright, let's go home

Jay: One more take

LET ME TELL YOU (feat. AQUAKULTRE)

[VERSE 1 - HANK SOLO]

Calling all cars, calling all cars check No red on neck no death stars left Cloud nine? Found my rye moldy Back bent over like a lawn chair folding Cats maw scolding, guts on fire Eyes why at the sky as the pyre grows higher Seems unwind from his old grey coat, Whether freestyle rhyme or line from a note Spine unaligned all in a twist, Time on a line s'all in the wrist Hood up, man-boobs, thyroid leaking, Ballpoint sketch like a fanboy geeking I'm open in the middle I'm closed at both ends I'm a villain to my family I'm a hero to my friends Grasp at the last straw sinner to his kin, Juxtapose foes who just oppose this.

[HOOK - ARETHA FRANKLIN]

People let me tell you, I work hard every day I get up out of bed, and put on my clothes 'Cuz I got bills to pay

[VERSE 2 - AQUAKULTRE]

(Don't fall a-haha) When we drive, we feeling all the trees get the breezin The Cuts is Vile, I like the way he mistreat em I can give 'em bars a plenty that’s critical but I'd rather heal with words, that’s medicinal It's time to give a good vibration Break bread and conversate over good libations The frustration no hesitation, will arise Higher then a peregrine falcon in the sky Peace to the nieces and nephews I raise And the son I don't got, father figure I stay You know we got it, I figured I be The Martyr For working class guppies Just tryna make it to supper And we keep it very clever, Uh HUH, yo Whatever the case I waste no time Serving em with a taste But foist let me put on on my woirk boots and grab a dairy milk before I make it to curfew We Breezing

Juxtapose foes who just oppose this.

DOWNLOAD FOR FREE AT VILEGROOVE.BANDCAMP.COM

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

Coffee Shop au part four

(Segment one of three)

If I forget to tag something important please tell me.

(Present day)

(Small warning Acylius does use those he tortures for food for other demons and non mortal creatures to consume so if you have a problem with that then um just keep scrolling I guess ^^; )

What was this…that strange feeling of disappointment at seeing Black Hats chair being vacant; after all he’d only been there twice so it was not as if he was a regular customer, especially as they’d only been open for two days.

Why should the old demon stay until closing time anyway, just because he did it on the first day didn’t mean he’d do it again today, he had no reason to stay…Black Hat had been rather forward though, kissing him like that, not that he was complaining but , he wasn’t one to just play around and be used.

Friends with benefits was one thing, at least you knew where you both stood, and yet still, why did it feel so familiar, an old dream perhaps, after all who didn’t at least have one wet dream about the great Black Hat doing sordid things to your body right.

Especially with tentacles, while wearing priest robes.

Yes he had his kinks, but damn you if you tried to shame him for them.

He huffed, shoulders going slump, no this was ridiculous , feeling sad just because that idiot of a Gremlin just upped and left without so much as a good bye, Hat didn’t owe him anything and he didn’t owe Hat anything either.

Clearly he was crazy, he had finally fucking lost it, thinking of The Great Lord Black Hat owing him a good bye and a kiss on the cheek as if they were lovers, he’d just met the bastard.

No he needed to either relax or worry if the destroyer of worlds was going to ruin his café that’d he’d always wanted with his mischievous downright evil antics.

Acylius was currently grinding up their latest victim, a man who’d been abusing Nicodemus’s workers (don’t worry if you don’t know who that is I won’t be bringing him into this unless I need him for like filler scenes)

Body parts in neat piles on the counter top, ‘pork’ pies were on the menu tomorrow, this was Black Hat’s island so even the people knew some places the menu would cater to demons so if they saw the chalk was in red they knew it was demon cuisine, though of course there was always the daring person who’d ask for it anyway in which a waiver definitely had to be signed.

Hey, wasn’t going to be Acylius’s problem if they decided to off themselves on food that probably wasn’t for human consumption.

This particular man had been a pig and he was serving sow next week.

Vile beings needed to meet a vile end.

This was going to be a long night, he could manage though, at best he could manage on two nights of sleep during the week.

Currently the head of the meat sack was animated and still alive, the man was so far gone he’d reached that point of acceptance that this was happening and nothing could be done, so seeing his body being prepped for pastries and such was more amusing than anything.

“I’m a Legion demon Jake, that’s your name right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, anyway as I was saying I’m a Legion demon in this day and age that means nothing to most unless you are perhaps ancient or still follow the old ways, I have nothing to offer thee Great Lord Black Hat.”

Jake watched as the demon deboned, removed a hand and of his shaved one of his arms before washing it down to make sure all the hair was gone before slapping it into the mince meat maker.

“Last I heard your kind was like some kinda lucky charm right dude?”

“Yes, but he does not need that from me, if we did anything he would be interested in me for all of five minutes and bail, he is all shadows and darkness, I will literally spend weekends in my boxers eating cheese puffs if the week has been hard enough, hardly a turn on for someone like Black Hat.”

Acylius snapped while working on another piece.

“I dunno, some beings like to see their partners being able to feel that chill around them, but hey that’s just my jam you know, anyway stop whining, this guy is old as shit right, you don’t know, your Legion demon shit might actually put a huge boner in his pants.”

Jake taunted, smirking as he watched his killer bristle up, oooo hooo sensitive much.

You know those scenes in anime’s where the other character suddenly gets really tall, shadows where their eyes should be and their hair seems to just be blowing in the wind and there’s that broken glass sound sometimes.

That’s Acylius’s reaction as his mouth turns into a ground out grin that’s splitting wider and wider along where the scars are, ironically that injury is the reason he can smile this wide now when the demon in him starts to show.

Jake was going to die, he was already he dead he knew it so why not torment him just a little more and get it over with

“Awww no I know what it is baby demon, you want a daddy you can suckle on and-

Acylius brought the meat tenderiser down on Jake’s head repeatedly until there was only pulp left, brain matter and blood were splattered across his apron with a few deep scarlet streaks going across his cheek, how brightly the red stood out against the snow white skin.

He was staring at the mess he’d made, panting softly, pupils thin and biting his lip, alright maybe he’d enjoyed that a little too much, he frowned though when he saw the pies had been covered to, well perhaps they would still be salvageable.

Scraping the remains of the head into the bin marked biohazard he pulled the bag out and set it down getting rid of other pieces he no longer required, tomorrow non human waste disposal would be picking up the remains anyway.

Demencia had caught the show and was leaning on the door.

“Looks like you got a little too into that Lulu, sure you don’t want to tenderise me on the surface.”

(NOTE, Acylius’s nick name Lulu was made last year in November 2019 because my friend had trouble pronouncing his name, so I tried to think of a name that he’d only let close friends and loved ones call him and that’s where that comes from, not Helluva boss, just thought I’d point that out as there’s a Lulu world and Loo Loo land)

“Not now Demencia, I’m not in the mood for your jokes.”

Acylius ran his fingers through his hair, regretting it once he remembered oh yeah covered in blood; a shower would definitely be needed before bed.

“Ah I see, so the head got sassy huh?”

Flug, because yes reminder Acylius is Doctor Flug, paused at the backdoor and pouted

“Might have, he also said some very offensive words that I did not appreciate.”

Demmy folded her arms, shaking her head and smiling

“Well you showed that head who’s boss, now hurry up binch I want my cookies and hot chocolate, it’s late.”

Flug lovingly gave her the finger as he walked out the door while telling her she had two hands she could do it herself.

The back alley was dimly lit, not that he couldn’t see or choose to focus his vision to see clearer but sometimes it was nice just to appreciate light that softly glowed and curled around corners to take in the world in all different ways and settings…oh he missed rain, there hadn’t been any in nearly two months now, he missed how things glowed, street lamps became brighter and car lights so red and vibrant against the grey trailing along winding roads of shimmering black.

Perhaps it would soon when the snow had melted, he’d go for a long drive and listen to the rain hitting the roof of his car, patting against the windows, listening to the quiet tick, tick, tick of the vehicle when he switched on the indicator.

Yeah just drive out the middle of nowhere, strip down and run in the rain or just let it soak into his clothes as his breath streamed out in wispy clouds…

Ears twitching he heard a late party of drunks making their way home, he watched them pass by, they were completely unaware of him, if he were perhaps a rabid sort of demon they would be easy pickings, but that was not his game, at least not tonight, there was no scent that told him a wrong doing had been done, just a group of friends heading home for bed.

Snow had fallen in the tracks left by the bustling day life of the people around here and now in the silence he wondered was he lonely, Demencia’s offers had sometimes had been all too tempting simply out of need for comfort and to be close to someone, sometimes it seemed she needed it just as much as he did when they’d just lean on each other and complain about their day.

Looking up he found someone watching him from the shadows, well more saw a pair of eyes, completely yellow, no white to be seen, oranges and reds, as if he were looking at the sun, shivering as a breeze rolled through he pulled down his sleeves, goose bumps rising, a tingling down his spine, just the little things that reminded him he was alive, he was not afraid of what lingered in the shadows, there was no sense of danger.

Perhaps they were a Legion fan , someone caught off guard by his appearance, after all Flug knew his scars could be quiet unsettling to some people…though come to think of it he did sense an air of fear about this being, still they were wide and unmoving.

Really the sensible thing to do would be to just go inside and ignore this creature, yet something kept him there a longing to talk to it, placing the garbage into the bins he smiled just a little

“You know stranger, you remind me of someone…someone I feel like I should know.”

Acylius’s ears lay flat as he heard them softly whimper, it sounded so sad.

“I am sorry, I was not being offensive I assure you, this person I speak of was very kind, at least he was in the dream, I dreamt when I was little , funnily enough a night like this, Mother had locked me out…”

He held one hand in the other looking at them, fingers curling around his thumb

“My fingers were so cold and red I could barely feel them, or the rest of myself to be honest…heh you probably do not want to hear the tired ramblings of an out of date demon.”

“No, please continue.”

There was silence again, that whispered voice, it comforted him, made him feel at ease, this indeed truly was a strange day.

“Mother had locked me out, I didn’t cry or beg her to let me back in, I knew she would not open the door, so I laid down cheek to the snow, despite being almost numb my face burned, my face…”

Tracing along his scars as he recalled the moment could not help but wince

“I had to be careful still they had barely healed by that point, but I remember how good the cold felt on them, red and angry they seemed to only be satisfied when pressed to the freezing earth, I knew that night or at least believed I was going to die and…I was alright with that until I saw a pair of eyes just like yours.”

Acylius took a step forward only stopping when he saw this being step back

“They were gold, I thought they were so beautiful , I thought maybe the angels we were told about were not so bad if they could come for something like me, his claws hands reached down for me but I didn’t see his face, all I heard was that I was coming home with him and his name…his name was…”

Acylius held his head in his hands, scrubbing them down his face

“His name was Cruentus.”

When he looked back at where the eyes had been there was only darkness, the demon in the dark had disappeared so quickly he wondered for a moment if they’d even been there.

No, nope, nope, that dream was not real, that being was not Cruentus, it was all coincidence and he was just exhausted, yes that was it, perhaps he should sleep tonight, or maybe he’d snacked on too much of Jake while he was working, or had too many sugary treats either way, it was pies in the fridge and off to bed.

Opening the back door he locked it behind him, ignoring the fact Demencia was chomping on one of the pies, after all she knew what was in them if she wanted to eat it that was up to her, his mind was elsewhere.

“Mmmm you tenderized this one good, Legs, nice and juicy.”

Usually her friend would react to that name, at least grunt or gently nudge her and tell her not to call him that, something was clearly bothering Acylius.

“Legs?”

Demencia asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, only for him to turn and pick her up by the front of her shirt, snarling as he did so

“Do not call me that name!”

Looking down at him, Demencia could really see something wasn’t right here, was he remembering something to do with that name, like it had always annoyed him, but that glare, the disheveled hair and fangs all bared …honestly in another situation he would be hot as fuck…alright she was already thinking he looked hot as fuck but this was not the time or place.

Touching Acylius’s face lightly, she watched as his ears flicked, his breathing was ragged, his eyes returning from being solid blue to having pupils and irises again, her hands were warm and comforting and he found himself leaning into them, lips pressed against her palm…she was there to ground him in his bad moments and he could never thank his friend enough for that.

“You mind setting me down you tree.”

Demencia laughed softly.

He carefully set her back down and pulled her in for a hug

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I would never hurt you, never.”

Nuzzling against his chest and wrapping her arms around him, patting his back

“Hey, hey now, none of that you dumb tree, I know you have gaps in your memory, did you remember why do you don’t like that name?”

“Hate, I don’t just dislike that name, I hate it…all I can hear is someone called Vincent and they make me curl up and die, I have no face only a voice, if I ever heard it…I would know…”

Flug was quiet, taking in just how small she was against him, reminding him how small most were against him like this, his talons formed, slowly stroking her hair, playing with the fuchsia overlay, down to her neck where it faded to lime green, such an interesting choice of colours to wear in ones hair.

“You already know I just appeared back into existence, as if the world itself birthed me, I was somewhere forgotten…and seeing Black Hat today, I think…no it is a stupid notion to think he could see me as anything.”

He kissed the top of her head, thankful that she had not let go, Demencia was the one being who never seemed to be afraid of him, who he knew he could trust and rely on in these moments where memories were trying to break through the surface and suffocated when they could not make it.

“I am a Legion demon, no more than a trinket in the end, I am a nothing in his world and I am okay with that, I have a nice peaceful life and a coffee shop just like I always wanted…”

He sat with her on the counter, as she sat on one of his thighs

“This is just a hug, you don’t need more right?”

Demmy enquired, slightly hopeful because who didn’t want to climb him, honestly, he was an idiot for not seeing he didn’t need to be some grand demon to be wonderful.

“Yes, just a hug…I wish I could say I grew up in a loving home with Christmases like in the movies, that I could tell you my life’s story, talk about a time I scraped my knee when I was small and had a mother who put cute cat plasters on me just because I like cats.”

She listened and let him stroke her hair, it’d always calmed him to pet soft things, so perhaps she might use shampoos that were just a little pricier than she’d usually buy simply to make sure her hair was soft for these broken moments no one else saw.

Even though he was not sobbing, made no notion he was crying, the damp warmth on her shoulder told her otherwise.

“I want to tell you the times my Father took me for ice cream, my first kiss with the person I fell in love with, something…anything, but there’s nothing there.”

She listened attentively until he had nothing left to say, carefully taking his hand from her scalp; Demencia held his face and looked at him

“Damn Sillyus, they really did send you back with nothing more than a leaflet.”

“I suppose, but I have so much to thank you for, when you found me on that street, I only remembered enough to get by, to survive, but you helped me to settle into this time and be a part of the modern world.”

Acylius kissed her forehead before pressing his to hers, eyes closed as he whispered

“I’m so tired of being lost, of being unsure of what I am, who I am, I just want to bake, make coffee and kill people in my basement, I think fortune smiled on me for a moment when you found me, I think I might just give you the world if you asked.”

“Awww come on dude, sounds like a love confession here, I have bills to pay off and knew there was a darker side in me, you’re the Sweeny to my Lovett.”

She teased fondly, lightly smacking the back of his head, smiling as he managed a laugh

“I guess I could agree platonically with that.”

“But honestly Slender Man, babe if you wanted to plant your tentacles and leave your seed in me I wouldn’t say no.”

Acylius rolled his eyes and shook his head, using a tea towel to wipe his face

“Honestly woman you are bloody hopeless.”

“Yeah but you love me all the more for it.”

She grinned punching him playfully on the shoulder

“Perhaps I do, but I am not as hot as you like to say I am, I hide my face, I hate when people look at my scars and pity me.”

Demmy raised a brow and climbed off of his leg, flicking his forehead

“I know you like to hide your face behind glamour and tricks but you’re beautiful even if you don’t see it dumbass, I’m starting to wonder what the fuck happened outside that had you coming back in as if someone stole your last apple crown and there’ll never be another one again on the face of the planet.”

She put the kettle on and took out the upside down pineapple cake; this was definitely a cake and tea situation

“First of all, do not say such blasphemous things, life would not be worth living without apple crowns, second of all…I think, I know I said there’s nothing there but I think I might have had a memory about my childhood involving Cruentus.”

Demencia nearly dropped the mug she was holding, setting it down she turned to face him

“Holy fucking shit, you mean thee fucking Cruentus, Hellhound butler, Hell Knight, works for the brooding clearly wants you to nail his ass Black Hat, that Cruentus…ahh I hear he has eyes like the fucking sun.”

Acylius gave her a deadpan look, hands on hips as he stood, looming over her, trying to look seriously only for it to falter

“You Demmy are just horny on main.”

“So what if I am? Gonna call me a slut like my last partner?”

She swatted away his playfully prodding hand.

“No, I never understood why it’s perfectly fine for men to have as many partners as they wish but seen as something terrible when a woman just wants to enjoy her life the same way, society is mad…also no more jokes on Black Hat you wicked beastie.”

Demencia would be lying if she didn’t admit his ability to shift from one mood to the other sometimes made her head spin, but it was clear he’d needed that moment to talk, shrugging she turned back to the kettle

“Alright, alright I’ll behave at least for now, I mean it’s clear the big bad doesn’t want you, how could he possibly want you…even though anyone with eyes could see he kept checking you out and every single coffee you brought him in hopes your stupid number was on it somewhere.”

Demencia couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at his sounds of huffing and frustration and heard him sit at the table, she did know there was stories, legends really by this point of Cruentus having a son, but you literally had to pour through footnotes and any books that might have had more information had been removed from shelves and privatized under the order of Black Hat himself.

End of segment one

(I'll try and type up segment two tomorrow)

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, notquiteascrazy!

For @notquiteascrazy​. I hope you'll enjoy it Lex, I tried to stick to your likes as much as I could!!! Merry Xmas, darling!

Read On AO3

*****

The air was thick with snow and the smell of roasted chestnuts and marshmallows, and Alec was staring out from the window of the subway that was taking him home.

He sighed in relief thinking about the fact that at least for the Christmas week, he had a job. At least he wouldn't be forced to stay home alone, drinking a beer and eating a microwave heated pizza, and thinking.

He couldn't go home, not this festivities, not after having left his family business shoving his car and house keys on his father’s desk, shouting that the price was too high for his mental health, seeing all his family's eyes widen in disbelief, because Alec had never said no to anything. Never a quarrel, never an argument, never a sign of disappointment. Anything.

He had endured through high school and university, studying something that made his stomach twitch in disgust still he brought home the best grades, the best results, the best graduation a parent could have ever asked for.

But working more than twelve hours per day for it? It soon became too much to bear.

After two years of sleepless nights, pills, too much coffee, and the beginning of panic attacks, he'd decided to quit and leave that horrible life he crazily had thought he could force himself into.

Sometimes he would say to himself that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, that maybe if he'd resisted a couple of months more, it would have become a routine, but he was aware that that could have never happened.

Alec hated numbers with all his heart, since he was a kid and that really wouldn't do in his family. For centuries, the Lightwoods held a huge business accountant studio that worked with the most outstanding industries, firms of the country, and even some others abroad. He was the eldest, he was supposed to be the heir. But he wasn't. He'd never been, and he never would be.

Izzy, she was the right one. Strong, sharp, determined, assertive and good enough to bring the best out for the family business. She was, and Alec loved her so much. He loved her fierce steps along the corridor when she was angry at someone, the way her voice turned sharp and hard on the phone when she discovered something she didn't like, the way her decisions were quick and always right.

He, instead, had always loved crayons and pencils. He loved the feeling of wood between his fingers, the smell of paper whenever he bought a new sketchbook, the rustling sound of his sleeve or his arm when it slid on the paper, and the brush of the pencil lead as it traced lines that gave life to the images that filled his head.

He wanted to become an artist, to go to an art school and then to an academy of arts, but he never had the courage to ask, never dared to hope, Alec ended up letting the days flow by until it was too late.

So there he was now, living alone in a one-room apartment in the outskirts, shifting from one temporary job to another. Apparently, he was "too much" for every position he applied for.

Too qualified, too experienced, too well paid, too grown up, too tall, too clumsy, too smart, too handsome, too… everything.

Izzy and Jace promised him they would come to visit during the holidays, but Alec knew that his family’s Christmas celebrations were something that they couldn't escape from that easily, with relatives, colleagues and business partners coming from all over the place and staying there until the late hours.

He dropped off the subway and walked home, grabbing a kebab along the way.

He switched on the kettle and slumped on the small couch he opened to sleep in at night, covering his legs with a blanket, patiently waiting for the little electric stove to heat the small room, picking up his phone and texting his siblings he had found a job for the Christmas’ month.

He stood and grabbed the kettle, pouring the boiling water into a mug filled with tea leaves, letting the steam soothe his icy red nose and warm him up. He looked outside the small window at the snow silently falling on the buildings.

He opened the bed and threw himself on it, still clothed. He took his sketchbook and started drawing, staring at his hand gently swaying on it, until he fell asleep, his head dropped on one side of the pillow, his hand clutching the pencil, as the Christmas lights and decorations glimmered on his black locks.

Magnus strolled into his office, his eyes shadowed, his beard a little longer than usual, his tie hanging loose around his neck, as if he hadn't the time to fix it properly.

"Are you ok?" Raphael asked him, a worried look on his face.

"Yes. No. I'm definitely not. It's been the worst night I had in years. Max has thrown up six times to the point his face turned green and I spent the night on the phone with Cat trying to figure out how to stop it and making him drink small sips of water, so he wouldn’t be dehydrated. I'm... fuck , I need another coffee, Raphael," he stopped and crashed on the huge armchair behind his long desk.

Raphael went to the coffee pot and filled a cup, putting some cream in it.

"You could have taken the day off you know? You're the boss here. No one is checking if you come to work or not."

"Are you insane?" Magnus glared at him as he sipped his coffee, it's December, the mall is going to be full and I have to check everything and I … I…"

"You don't want to be alone, I know."

Magnus' expression turned sad and distant. He sighed deeply, staring into the void.

"Probably not," he added, "Anyway, let's get back to work, is everything fixed? The extra decorations, the elves, the little presents for the kids coming and...oh my god, Santa? Have you found him?"

Raphael nodded smiling.

"Your kind of guy to be honest, dark, tall and handsome."

"Ah, stop this Raphael. He's gonna be dressed in a Santa costume, a huge pillow on his belly and a white long beard. Also…you should know that Mr. no one  has become my favourite kind of guy."

"If you say so,"  he smirked.

Magnus stood up and left the cup on his desk, waving his hands in the air, dismissing whatever Raphael wanted to argue back.

"Anyway, let's go and see the elves, I'm curious," and he opened the door, gesturing to Raphael to follow him.

Alec woke up earlier than usual, waiting like twenty minutes for the water to warm and finally shower.

He knotted the towel low on his waist, cursing the cold wind that crawled from underneath the gaps in the window’s frames and went to the sink, grabbing his razor to shave. He stared at his image in the mirror. Why was he even shaving? He was about to wear a long white beard for a week. He brushed his knuckles on his stubble and smiled. It looked good on him. His father never wanted him to grow a beard. He used to say it made him look scruffy and that wouldn't go over well with their clients and partners. But now, who cared anymore? He put the razor back in the drawer and went to the stove to make some coffee. He dressed up slowly,  and ate some toast, while chatting with Jace.

The subway was full of people going to work, some of them dressed in their grey and black suits and he felt relieved; he didn't miss that life at all. He took his sketchbook from his backpack and started portraying their faces, the worried and the sad ones, the abandoned lover and the happy newly wedded one. All of them in their morning run to face the day.

The receptionist stopped him as soon as he entered.

"I'm Alec Lightwood, ehm, Santa Claus…"

"Oh, yes Mr. Lightwood, you're a little early, but since you are already here you can go to the locker room and change. Here's your costume."

She was staring at him, a goofy smile on her face. As he walked away he heard her murmur to the other lady next to her that it was a pity to cover all that glory with a Santa's costume.

He chuckled and took the elevator.

The pillow on his belly was soft but huge and it made him uncomfortably hot, and the faint beard itched a bit on his neck. He wore the heavy boots and realized he was already covered in sweat. It was going to be a very long month.

He entered the Children's Land and spotted the man who interviewed him last week. He was standing next to the most enchanting creature Alec had ever laid his eyes on. He stood frozen in the middle of the large hall of the toy shop, just staring, until Raphael noticed him.

"Oh, there you are! Magnus, he's our Santa Claus," he said and pulled Magnus from his wrist toward the tall red and white figure.

"Alec? Oh, can I call you Alec, right? This is Magnus, the real boss here."

Alec was glad to be disguised when Magnus fully turned to look at him. The man was strikingly beautiful, probably just a little older than he was.

He extended his hand and Magnus mirrored him, shaking it for a split second that to Alec seemed like an eternity.

"Strong grip," Magnus said smiling, "perfect for Santa. Also, your height is just perfect. Let me hear your voice, have you practiced lowering it a bit?"

Alec nodded and was about to let him hear his best Ho Ho Ho , when Magnus' phone rang.

"Cat? How is Max feeling? Better? Oh, thank god, he needed some good sleep. Any fever? No? That's good."

Alec knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he just couldn't help it.

Of course he was married. Of course he had a kid and a beautiful wife waiting for him at home.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Raphael suddenly asked him to follow him toward the big wooden sleigh they had put on the right end corner of the shop.

"This will be your place. You will have a big jute sack behind where you’ll put the letters and a basket full of candies and lollipops for the kids after they have told you their wishes."

Alec listened and nodded.

"Can I make a little drawing for them? Just a sketch of their name or favourite hero?" he asked.

Raphael looked at him amused.

"You can draw?"

"Yes, I'll be quick, I promise."

"Of course you can Alec. It will be an amazing surprise for all of them."

Alec turned and saw Magnus talking to his kid on the phone. His face was soft and he was smiling as if the child could see him. His mind went back to an image of a younger Robert smiling at him. He felt a rush of longing for those days when he was exactly the son their parents had dreamed of. Responsible, always on track, confident, always in the right place at the right moment.

While they were happy, he was overwhelmed. The more they grew proud, the more he was ashamed of himself. The longer they seemed sure of who he was, the further he didn't even know where to begin.

He spun and found Raphael looking at him, brows up to his forehead.

Fuck! He realized he had been staring at what was technically his boss.

He scratched his fingers on the back of his neck trying to think about something good to say and justify his weird behaviour.

"Ahm… he's good with children...not many men are … ehm… it's kinda rare I mean…"

Raphael delighted in the embarrassment he glimpsed in the young man in front of him, and waited amused until Alec fell silent with a frustrated grunt.

Raphael took pity on him and finally laughed, wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, he is.  They love him before he even starts to speak and he can convince them to do whatever he asks. They're kinda spellbound ."

"Yeah I know the feeling."

Alec’s cheeks reddened a bit and he closed his eyes cursing himself for talking without filters, realizing what comment had just left his mouth.

"I mean," he tried, "I know the feeling of being spellbound."

Raphael turned around a little  smirking, “Yeah, he has this effect on everyone he meets."

Alec walked toward the sleigh, checked the basket filled with sweets and sat down, adjusting the pillow on his belly and stretching his legs. He knew they would be bent until late that afternoon. He was glad he hadn’t shaved that morning, otherwise, his pale and delicate skin would have been scratchy in the evening.

He took his sketchbook from his backpack and the crayons, the beautiful watercolour ones that he received on his last birthday from Izzy and Jace, and set them on his left side.

Raphael instructed a couple of photographers where to position the cameras and searched for Magnus again, leaving the last decision up to him. He was the best organizer but he really lacked any sense of aesthetics, which, instead, Magnus was overflowing with. The man was fixing the red berry and frosted pine cone garland on the railing of the stairs, fully concentrated on the task.

"Magnus? Have a look here," he said, "our Santa's sleigh is ready. Just waiting for your last touch.”

Magnus revolved toward the voice and stared for a moment at Alec and the setting, his gaze so intense that Alec felt the urge to divert his eyes. Magnus moved slowly toward the sleigh, bending near the footboards to fix the fake snowflakes and the pine branches.

His movements were slow and graceful, the back of his neck was flexing sinuously following the motion of his hands and fingers, and Alec couldn't keep from staring. His nails were painted in a dark green polish, matching the colour of the spikes in his faux hawk. He was elegant and extremely professional, but there was something sensual too in his overall outfit.

His eyes were stuck to Magnus' fingers that were now fixing the red velvet cloth and cushions on the sled.

"You like the color of the polish or my rings?" Magnus asked abruptly without turning his head and Alec rolled his eyes, because of course he wasn’t able to do anything without being noticed.

He didn't know what to say because, honestly, he liked them both, a lot.

Magnus must have realized his embarrassment because he resumed his talk without even looking at him.

"I picked the dark green this morning because it matches the beautiful colour of the pine needles and also because it matches perfectly with the burgundy red suit I am wearing. The rings...well, they are just a sort of second skin, I never remove them, not even when I sleep or shower."

Alec remained still and silent, lost in Magnus' voice.

"I don't bite, you know. You're allowed to answer or say something," Magnus added seriously, just before bursting into the softest laughter Alec had ever heard, "I'm just teasing you, I was joking."

Alec smiled behind the white soft beard, "Both, I like them both," he whispered.

Magnus stopped his movements and finally raised his head to look at him. He was kneeled on one leg, looking at those hazel big eyes standing out from the furry grey brows. They shined like two emerald gems.

Magnus then stood up and leaned toward Alec, grabbing his white fluffy collar and adjusting it around his neck, next his palms swept over his shoulders and tugged at the fabric a little, to make it adhere to Alec's shoulders. They were broad and straight. The last touch was reserved for his hat. He fixed the pom-pom and then his fingers curled up the mustaches above Alec's lips.

He cocked his head and took a moment to check what he had just done, "Now you're perfect, the perfect Santa. Raphael is the best at making real what I have in mind."

"Raphael knows so well what the boss likes," a voice replied.

"He's right," Magnus said to Alec smirking, "he knows me so well. Ok now. I know he already told you what this whole Santa's thing is about, but I will remind you anyway. Kids will queue here, you will take them on your lap and have a little chat, then ask them for a wish, pick up a candy, and offer them to take a picture with you. Remember the pictures are for free, it's  just for the joy of the kids, and…"

"And while they are waiting for the print I will make them a little sketch."

Magnus frowned.

"Raphael told me I could. I'll be quick, I promise."

"You draw?" Magnus asked.

"Yes."

"As long as you don't make the people wait too long, I think it's a wonderful idea. Keep the last one for me, ok?"

Magnus turned to Raphael.

"Let the kids come. We're ready for the magic to happen."

Alec's first week flew by quicker than he had imagined. He enjoyed talking to the kids and smiled at the incredible, sweet, improbable desires they shared with him. He gave them the sweets and a quick sketch; an animal, a toy, a star, a word, something he made just for them.

Raphael was amazed by how quickly Alec actually sketched. The queue was flowing regularly and no clients complained about waiting too long. Their Santa smiled and laughed with the kids and he didn't seem to become annoyed or bored.

Alec always listened with the same attention, always gave the children space and time to talk, enjoyed their sense of wonder, comforted the sad ones, knew how to deal with tantrums and tears, and never missed to give an encouraging smile to the parents waiting.

In that week, he fell asleep happily after such a long time.

Working at the mall turned out to be very exciting and interesting. Alec had always been fond of people, even if he wasn't very talkative and extroverted. He mostly loved to observe them, the quick glances between the ones in love, the farewell and welcome embraces, the arguments and the tears, the gazes lost in nowhere, the grandparents holding the hands of the kids, and of course, the kisses.

In the days he spent there, especially at the times his shift started and finished, when the mall was emptying, he loved watching Magnus interact with his employees. He was struck by how different Magnus was from his father.  

Magnus was always the first to arrive and the last one to leave, he always had a smile for everyone, he paid attention to all their needs, and always found the right words to say, supportive, encouraging, and caring. He brought coffee and sweets, he offered them lunch and then sat eating with them, laughing and having fun, and whenever he could, he would help them.

There was something in that man that had Alec yearning for his presence whenever he wasn’t around, that had him staring at him when Magnus wasn’t noticing, admiring him. He was beautiful inside and out.

"His wife must be so happy," he absentmindedly said to a cleaner one night as he was helping him pull up all the trash bags. Wei was the oldest one at the mall, and Alec had become his friend. He loved to listen to his stories and his memories, and got his fill of wisdom every day. Alec opened up to him like a father, sharing his personal life, his dreams and his sorrows. He remained with him long after his Santa’s duty was over, listened and helped along the way.

"Who?" said the man.

"Mr. Bane."

Wei stopped moving and cleaning, putting his mop on the floor, smiling at Alec.

"Magnus?"

Alec looked at the old man and smiled, hoisting up two other bags.

"Yes, Magnus."

The man looked back at him, pensively, and then talked.

"Magnus isn't married, and never has been. If you are referring to the fact that he has a child, I will tell you a story worthy of this time of the year. Tea first," and he went to the counter of the locker room and poured some in two cups, handing one to Alec.

"Three years ago, Anne, a young girl that worked at the bookstore, died unexpectedly in a car accident. She was the mother of a two-year-old boy, named Max. When Magnus heard that the social services were searching for a place for Max to stay for the night, he offered to take him home with him, and never left him since then. He applied for adoption, since he was the closest thing to family for that girl and her boy and since he was raised in foster care…"

The man looked at Alec, an unreadable expression on his face, something between awe and seriousness.

"I hope you'll have the chance to know him better, Alec. Magnus is one of the kindest souls that tread on this earth. He's caring, gentle, soft, selfless, he holds a special place in his heart for each of us. He knows all our histories, he never misses a birthday or an anniversary, he covers our shifts when we need a day off and no one can replace us. He's so incredible, that he's almost unreal."

He stood up and took the mop again, "I have noticed the way you look at him."

Alec swallowed, his cheeks getting crimson, "I… I don't…"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, he doesn't deserve to be alone," and he bent to grab some empty bottles.

"Leave that to me," Alec said and was quickly on his knees to collect them.

"You're just as kind as he is," Wei said and threw some paper cups in the bin.

Alec remained with him, and they talked until Wei had finished cleaning.

"Your dad will understand sooner or later," he said putting his coat and scarf on.

"He might, but he'll never forgive me," Alec sighed.

"He will understand one day that there's nothing to forgive Alec, you don't have to apologize to anyone for giving voice to your true self, he will understand, believe me. Just give him time."

Alec nodded as they went outside and decided to take a walk. He looked up at the grey thick sky, thinking about Magnus.

He opened his drawing book and checked all the sketches and portraits he'd made of Magnus while he wasn't watching. It would have been really nice to know him better, but December was almost over and he did not even have the chance to present himself.

He exhaled. In another life, maybe.

On his part, Magnus realized he was always finding an excuse to go to the children's store. There was something in that Santa that drew him closer, even if he had never seen his face. The way he moved, his soft, tender voice, the way he got lost in his drawing, and the way he answered the kids. Raphael always made jokes about the fact that he should go to the locker room and have a closer look at the man, but Magnus always dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

As Christmas approached, Alec noticed that Magnus was often around and he never missed the chance to draw him on many different occasions.

“You should show him," he heard Raphael say behind his back as he peeked at the sketch Alec had just made of Magnus standing beside one of the Xmas trees of the mall, sipping from a coffee cup, absorbed in reading, his brows furrowed, his lips curled in concentration.

Alec suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.

"Magnus loves beautiful things, and your portrait is amazing, you really should," Raphael stated as he walked away.

Alec closed his sketchbook when a loud thud tore him out of his thoughts. He rushed and found a crying kid on the floor, his knees up to his chin, a thin rivulet of blood on his wrist.

Alec knelt beside him, his voice soft and tender, "Hey, it's all right, I'm here. Can I have a look at your wrist?"

The boy raised his head and found Santa Claus kneeling beside him, asking him to have a look at his injury. He looked around confused, not really knowing what to do, until his eyes rested on another man standing behind his back.

"I'd let him if I were you, his touch might be magical."

Alec looked up and saw Magnus looking at him, gently nodding, encouraging him to go on. So he took the boy's hand and lifted his wrist to have a look at it; then he took out two small packages from his right pocket. He showed them to the kid.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Tom," the boy whispered.

"Okay, Tom. Now I will wipe your wound and disinfect it, it won't burn or hurt, I promise. Then I am going to put a magical Santa patch on it, how does this sound? Will you pick up the drawing while I clean it?"

"Mr. Bane…" Alec started only to stop when Magnus stepped in.

"Magnus." Magnus corrected.

"Magnus can help you pick one, if that's all right?"

The boy smiled and nodded.

Alec passed the small box to Magnus and for a moment their eyes locked. Magnus smiled at him, wide and open, and his gaze softened as their fingers softly brushed, and Alec felt something cracking inside of him, like an egg breaking to let a new life peek through.

He made quick work of the little wound, covering it with a candy cane-shaped patch.

"Now,” he added, “since you have been really brave, why don’t you follow me to pick some candies out from my basket near the sleigh?"

"And I will go and search for your parents," Magnus added, "remain here with Santa."

Later that evening, he was putting his black coat on ready to go home when he heard someone coming.

"Who are you?" Magnus asked, looking surprised at the handsome man standing outside the locker room.

Alec turned and saw him, he seemed almost in a rush. He was about to answer, but he realized he couldn't breathe.

“You don’t look like a thief, so, care to tell me who you are?”

"I’m Santa. I mean, the guy dressed as Santa. My name is Alec," his voice came out barely a whisper.

"Pardon?" Magnus asked him, almost not believing he had heard well.

Alec swallowed as he felt those chocolate eyes scanning him from his feet to the last of his black locks.

Magnus blinked as his heart skipped a beat. Damn Raphael, he was right.

They both remained silent as the veil was raised, staring at each other as their hearts were fluttering.

Finally, Magnus extended his hand to him, "Actually I was searching just for you."

Alec grabbed his hand and squeezed it, his grip strong and certain, "Why?"

"I wanted to thank you for today. The way you acted with that boy…,"

"It was nothing...”

"You turned a bad event into an amazing one, one he will remember for all his life. Plus, you didn't have to, and you did anyway. This says a lot about the kind of person you are, and I never take such things for granted."

Alec was still holding his hand, stuck in a sort of trance. When he realized that, he retracted his palm, "I'm sorry, I need to go…, my sister is waiting for me outside…,"

Magnus nodded.

Alec adjusted the scarf around his neck and moved toward the exit.

"Ah, Alec? We are having a small Christmas party on the 24th, after the mall closes for the clients, why don't you come? It's an open party, we all bring families or partners…," he stopped, waiting for Alec to say something.

"I'd love to, yes, thank you. See you tomorrow," he left and headed to Izzy's car, his heart racing, his head a bit spinning.

Izzy needed just a glance to understand, "Are you ok?"

Alec looked at her and licked his lips, twice, "I don't really think so."

"What's wrong?"

He pressed his fingers at the corner of his eyes, exhaling, "Fuck, Izzy, I think I've fallen in love."

"And what's so terrible about it?"

Alec looked back at her, almost desperate, "He's the owner of the mall, beautiful and sexy as fuck, smart, and kind, and...what do I have to offer him?"

"Yourself, Alec. And believe me, it's not something you easily find around nowadays." She turned the engine on and drove him away.

After the last bowl of popcorn was over, Max was almost asleep against Magnus' chest.

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"You were happy tonight when you came back from work, did something happen?"

Magnus kissed him on his head, gently, "Maybe, yes. I was thinking...We have a special Santa this year, do you want to come and make your wish?"

"You'd let me again?”

Magnus nodded and heard Max hum happily.

In that last week, Magnus found every excuse to be around Alec, and Alec always welcomed him with his bright eyes and his soft smile. The more Magnus stayed with him, the more he felt the desire to know him better. Magnus found himself thinking about which books Alec liked reading, what kind of movies did he watch, or what was the food he wanted to eat on a snowy night.

Magnus really wanted to invite him for a drink, but it was Christmas week and Max was at home with Cat the whole day, waiting for him to come home. That was what being a father was about. Putting Max first, every time, and Magnus knew not many would want a committed relationship with a lone parent.

Christmas Eve was really busy. Alec was searching for Magnus, but he never showed up. He wanted to see him one last time, since he’d decided not to show up to the party. He wanted to thank him for having made this month the best he had in years. All the customers had almost left when he spotted him at the end of the queue, holding a little boy in his arms, and chatting with him.

Max was the last kid of the day. Magnus knelt, putting him down and letting him walk toward Alec, to make his wish for this Christmas.

He knew that Max always asked for one thing, no matter if it was Christmas or if he was blowing his birthday candle, or watching a shooting star. All the others Santa had always given him silly answers, -- this is not a thing you can ask Santa, or this is a thing you should ask in your bedtime prayers, or Santa brings only toys-- , leaving Max always sad and deluded.

Why was he expecting Alec to give a different answer, he didn’t know.

As Max came closer, Alec opened his arms and pulled him up on his thighs, looking at him.

“And you are?”

“Max. Dad said you are a special Santa, so maybe you are the one who can finally help me with my wish?”

“I’ll do my best. What is it?”

"Can you bring my mum back?"

Alec felt like he had been slapped by a cold hand right on his face, as his eyes filled with tears.

He raised a hand and caressed Max’s cheek, staying silent as some seconds passed by, conscious of the other pair of eyes that were staring at him, aside from Max’s.

Alec thought carefully about the answer and then he started talking, “I wish I could, Max, but I can't. There are many things that happen in life that we can’t turn back or change, no matter how much we’d want or try to. Your mum has passed now and this means she can't come back, but there is something you can do about this. You can find her in the small things of your life, in the scents that remind you of her, in the melody she used to sing when she lulled you to sleep, in the words of a story she used to tell you at bedtime, in the way your smile probably looks like hers, and…,” he raised his gaze to look at Magnus who seemed visibly touched by his words, "... in the love your dad is giving you. In this way, it will be as if she never really left you. I know you miss her presence, her touch, and her voice, but if you close your eyes and search into your heart, you will find her there.”

Max looked intensely at the man in front of him, processing the words, serious and concentrated, then his face brightened in a sunny smile.

“Dad was right, you’re the best Santa I have ever met.” Max replied as he looked between his dad and Santa. He may not have his mom’s warm hugs anymore but Max did have his Dad’s embrace and bedtime stories. “Thank you Santa. I think you’re right.”

Alec let out a startled laugh as he held the candy basket out for Max, “Now, any other wish I can help you with?”

“Is there something you wish to have back and can’t, just like me?”  Max finally asked, picking up a candy cane.

Alec inhaled a sharp breath, “Of course there is.”

Max smiled and looked up at Alec, “Then come and spend Christmas with us, so you can tell me.”

Alec cleared his throat, “Leave a plate with cookies and a mug of hot chocolate, and I’ll see what I can do, ok?”

Then he kissed Max on his head, picked his sketchbook and drew a big comet on it. Giving it to the kid he told him, “Never stop believing Max, the best things come to us when we less expect them. Merry Christmas.”

He stood up, tearing another sheet from it, walked toward Magnus who was still kneeling and staring at him, handing him the drawing, “This is for you.”

Magnus looked at his portrait on the paper. He wanted to say something, but voices and laughters were coming from the hall of the mall, signalling that the Christmas party was about to begin.

“Magnus, Max?” they heard Raphael call.

Alec stepped back, grabbed his pencils and went to change his clothes, leaving Magnus and Max there.

He felt his heart aching at the idea of leaving without a word, but he knew that going to the party would have only meant to feel even worse when he had to say goodbye. He dressed up and before leaving he put a drawing next to the locker of each of the persons he had met and worked with, in those days.

“So you’re not coming,” he heard Wei say.

He turned, his eyes were red with unshed tears, that he wasn’t ashamed to show. “It would only be worse later. I’m already lost. I don’t want this to be out in the open, and if I ever get in there, with him, with them, I won’t be able to disguise it. Thank you for being my friend and confidant while I was here,” he told Wei as he hugged him, “Watch over him and make sure he’ll give his heart to someone worthy. Say goodbye to everyone, it’s been an honour working here.”

He patted the man on his back one more time, and then made his way out, deciding to walk home and let the snowflakes wash away the tears that were streaming down his face.

At the party, Magnus was trying to get distracted, but his mind was fixed on Alec, on the way he answered Max, and on the way the boy had seemed to want Alec in their lives.

Maybe he was the right one.

He would have asked him out, if only the man would show up, but he didn't, and Magnus had lost his hopes.

He was standing next to the bar, drinking and staring into the void.

"Drinking to celebrate or to forget?" Wei asked him.

"Neither of these, just drinking and enjoying the two days of rest we have ahead of us."

The old man hummed and took a glass himself.

"It seemed you were searching and waiting for someone who didn't come," he said, “Alec went away."

Magnus frowned and then exhaled, his voice turning sharp and bitter, "Ah yes, I call it the lone parent effect. It never fails to strike."

Wei looked at him, savouring his cocktail. The man looked to be weighing something in his mind before he spoke.

"He went away because he has feelings, and feared that these weren't reciprocated."

Magnus put down his glass on the counter.

"Who told you?"

"He did, just before leaving. And that's not the only thing I know about him."

Magnus shook his head, smiling, feeling his heart expand.

"Sit here with me and let's have a talk, Magnus."

The morning sun hit Alec right in the eyes and he cursed himself for not closing the curtains enough last night when he’d come home. He remembered feeling sad and being a bit tipsy, after stopping along the way to have a couple of beers.

He wasn't really used to drinking, so he always ended up confused and hobbling, until there was a couch or a bed to fall into.

Alec got up and stretched his arms and legs, staring at the thick snow already covering the roofs, and still falling from the pearly grey sky.

Jace and Izzy were out of reach for a couple of days, trapped in all those pompous meetings his parents always held at their place.

He put the coffee pot on the stove and took a pan, opened the fridge and looked at the watch. Nine o'clock. It was going to be a very long day.

He toasted some bread and cooked two sunny side up eggs, and put the plate on the table. He was scrolling his phone while eating, chuckling at the secret pics his siblings were sending him, before taking the still fuming cup of coffee, and going back to the couch, opening a book.

After a while he went to take a shower and then warmed some other coffee before getting dressed.

That's when he heard the doorbell ring.

He quickly put on a thorn old sweater he used at home and a pair of loose sweatpants. It must have been the old lady on the first floor, she knew he was alone.

He opened the door, threading his hand through his already ruffled hair and lost all his capacity to think and speak when he saw Magnus and Max, hand in hand, standing on the threshold of his small apartment, on that Christmas morning.

He wanted to say something, but didn't know where to start from. Magnus was looking at him, a shy smile on his face, a doubtful look in his eyes, as if he was sorry for showing up without calling him first.

Luckily Max was there too.

"So your real name is Alec?" the boy asked him.

Alec looked at Magnus, asking for silent permission, before nodding back.

"Me and dad had a talk about Santa," Max giggled, "he says that mall Santas are only interns right now. Like high ranking elves! Now I know why no one could help me, but at least, your words were honest, and we are here for a reason," and he elbowed his father on his leg.

Magnus seemed lost for a moment, trying to find the right words, then looked at Alec and said, "We were wondering if you would come and spend these two Holiday days with us. Our home is big enough and we have a spare room."

Alec looked at him and shrugged, incredulous.

"I want you to come, Santa Alec, please."

"And you?" Alec asked Magnus.

"I would love to. I would love to know you better, if you'd let me."

Alec smiled and it felt as if the sun had ripped through the clouds, even if it was still snowing, "I would love that too."

Magnus winked at him, "So that's settled. We will wait for you in the car while…"

Alec grabbed his wrist, pulling him inside.

"I'm sorry I didn't invite you in, I was… distracted. If you both don't mind the small place, I have some warm coffee and I can make you a hot chocolate Max."

As they sat on the couch, Alec warmed the coffee and prepared the chocolate.

The radio was playing in the background -- It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas --, Alec looked at Magnus intensely as he handed him the cup, and maybe, from now on, life was really beginning to look a lot like something they had been waiting for, for a long time.

[bestwishes1986]

Part 5 : Deception (WIP)

Reckless, impulsive, loyal, those were words that Kingston “King” McTavish would assign to Valiant Teague. Standing on the front step of a suburban hamlet in the middle of the afternoon had surprised even him. At 350 years of age it was hard to surprise him, but as he waited for someone to answer the door he was surprised. His opal blue curls and straight lines of hair were caught in a breeze that made them sway. He had had the underside of his head shaved all around with a thick beard not the same blue surrounding his face like a mane. His darker than vanilla skin tone from the mixed heritage of his father and mother and facial features made him appear handsome with more than a hint of African descent. His blue eyes watched the door, trying to be patient.

Any call to the castle was recorded and before heading out on his motorcycle he had the call played back over and over. Listening for any signs of immediate emergency, danger, or signs of a struggle. All he had heard was emotional rawness and that had been enough for him to cancel any plans he had made for the day and leave. His prisoner Tobin had just been brought back his second escape attempt and he needed distance from that man anyway.

The door opened and instead of his weapons specialist for the Kingsguard he commanded, there was a little girl looking disappointed to see him. Before he could speak she ran back into the house crying. King’s blue eyebrows drew together in concern. A stranger came to the door, beautiful with gray eyes and wild dark hair that could use a brush.

“Sorry about Abigail, we tried to stop her but she got ahead of us…you are?” Donovan asked holding out a hand.

“King, Sovereign of the United Kingdom. I was summoned here by Val, why isn’t he receiving me?” King asked, his light voice suspicious of this stranger. His Lycan, a blue wolf that lived inside his soul stirred from sleep. The bright golden eyes looking at the creature before King through their metaphysical bond. King took the man’s hand in a fierce grip and was surprised when Donavan gripped his hand just as strong.

“Donavan Roe, an acquaintance of Val’s. He’s in right state presently, come on in.” Donovan said keeping his face as passive as possible even though the death grip King had on his wrist made him wonder if bones would break if he applied any more pressure. King released his hand and walked past him, never taking his eyes off Donavan until he had to turn his head forward. Even then he didn’t like Donavan behind him. Using his Lycan senses he smelled the house. Three strong scents, one faint almost gone entirely.

He glanced at the furniture, most of it years old seemed in good condition. No signs of any fighting occurred.

“What exactly is happening here?” King asked looking back at Donavan.

“Short version. I witnessed the murder of Val’s wife and we just saw her in the crowd at the Mercy Hospital Bombing. So Val is trying to not have a breakdown right now. He’s in the guest room down that way.” Donavan surmised as he pointed down the hallway.

“You’re leaving something out.” King said he had listened to this man’s pulse the entire time, noting it’s rhythm changes as he spoke.

“Go see him first.” Donavan said ducking his head.

“You do know what Sovereign means, you don’t give me orders.” King said a bit of a growl coming into his words as if to show Donavan who was in control of things.

“He needs you now, this whose cock is bigger bullshite can wait. I will be trying to get his daughter to stop crying. If that’s alright, my Lord,” Donavan said with a tone beyond annoyed and King almost said something rude but his ears picked up the sounds of things being torn apart from the second story.

“Go, she’s tearing something apart right now and in that state I imagine it’s something important to her.” King said before he walked down the hallway without waiting for a response. Donavan turned and moved to the stairs, he felt out of his depth. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. He asked himself why he was still even here, he had done what he had come to do. He had told Val everything he knew about the man. But as he moved up the stairs he knew the reason, hated himself for the reason but as he came to door with pony stickers. He knew it was all beyond his control, he cared what happened to these people.

Donavan stood in the doorway, watching as the five year old tore a painting to ribbons. His eyes were wide with surprise but he didn’t stop her. Her tears were gone, her face red with anger as she pulled more of the once large painting apart. A part of him knew he should tell her to stop, but he didn’t. If he had learned one thing in his life, it was to trust his instincts. Finally when the painting was just small pieces of paper strewn about the room, and Abigail breathing hard with the exertion he knocked on the doorframe.

He kept his face calm and neutral of any emotion and just waited. Children were unpredictable, as an incubus he could feel emotions the way people felt a breeze before rain. Hers were a mess of anger, sadness and above all confusion. It made his heart hurt, that surprised him. He had only known of her existence for only one morning and already he felt he would hurt anyone who harmed her. But he didn’t have time to be perplexed as she launched herself at him and he had just enough time to crouch before she was hugging him tight and sobbing.

Donavan’s eyes were wide, this was the second Teague to do this and he just wasn’t sure what about him screamed “Port in a storm”. But he hugged her back all the same. Abigail was young but she wasn’t stupid. The concept of telling her everything would be alright seemed ludicrous, he wasn’t sure anything would be alright ever again. So he simply let her cry it out on his shoulder.

Downstairs was a different matter entirely. King had leaned against the closed door and listened to his subordinate’s retelling of recent events. He had resisted the urge to interrupt. Making mental notes as he did. He wasn’t angry at being kept in the dark about Val’s investigation, he knew if he had learned before now who the victims were he would have pulled him from investigation.

“We tried to keep Abigail back but she threw a fit and I retreated back here and let Donavan handle it. I just wanted to compose myself before you fired me from your employ,” Val concluded somberly and King’s eyes went wide but he said nothing for a moment.

“You’ve been using that word a lot today. “We” I mean. Have you noticed that,” King asked as he folded his arms over his long green wool sweater and waited for a reply. As predicted it took Val a moment to retrace the conversation and with a deep frown King knew it had finally registered with the man.

“I have no reason to sack you Valiant, but I will say you’re too goddamn smart to go it alone. Let alone too smart to take things at face value. So disappointed would be how I’m currently feeling. But above that, I’m sorry Mate. Losing a wife is hard, ye but getting on top of another bloke right after. That’s a bit of a stretch even for you yah?” King spoke with a bit of incredulous shock to his voice.

“I haven’t done anything with Donavan, besides he’s been a friend this day. As well as a witness to her death, I just want time to find out what he knows.” Val said and King nodded his brow creased in thought. King had heard Donavan approaching but said nothing. He had also heard the lie in Val’s voice but said nothing just watched him. This was going to be interesting.

The door burst open and King barely had time to move before Donavan came bursting in, his face red with anger.

“Is that it?! That’s all you want from me right! Information. Alright here,” Donavan shouted King watched him, listening to any underlying emotion or held back secret.

“The man is a Vampire. He has fangs instead of teeth and talks with a French accent. He’s tall like me, but muscular like a Football player. His skin is brown like an African but pale like a corpse. He wears fine clothes like a royal snob would. I never remember where we go because he has mental magic or some such shit. I used to think it was drugs but I didn’t eat or drink before the later takings so it can’t be. The rooms he takes me to are hotel rooms, like the one Tegan was in. Cheap places you pay by the day. He always paid with cash. There was a black briefcase that had an ornate set of operating tools in it. He would bleed me first, then rape me, feed me just enough to replinish blood then do it again.” Val rose to stop him but Donavan kept going.

“He forced me to watch. Used compulsion on me so my eyes wouldn’t close. I tried to move, to free myself but could only cry while he took his time. Savoring the meal he said. Is that enough, you get what you needed,” Donavan looked at King then. King’s blue eyes were shrewd, he nodded. Donavan nodded back, before looking at Val.

“See, that’s honesty. Not your dirty tacs, using your body and whatever I felt was happening to lure me in to a false sense of security. That’s on par with him and his money. Never, see me again.” With that Donavan ran. Val was too shell shocked to move. King slipped his phone out and made a call. Val felt his life breaking in ways he couldn’t imagine. The information from Donavan had felt like nails being driven into his skin, piercing muscle and shattering bone.

“I want eyes on him all day and night. This is the only lead we have to get to him.” King concluded as he hung up the phone. He was seized by Val who slammed him against a wall.

“What are you playing at King!? Eh, you set me up?” Val shouts. King looked back at him, cold blue eyes.

“I knew Donavan was listening. But I had no idea you would throw yourself on top of an emotional land mine. That was all you. Lying to me, what’s more you’re lying to yourself. I will give you two hours to be ready to roll out with the guard. Bring your daughter to the castle, she’ll be safe there.” King said. The words causing Val to release him as his arms dropped to his sides.

“Donavan didn’t tell you because he knew you weren’t ready to hear it. That’s how Incubuses work, they sense the person’s emotions and act accordingly. He would have told you when he felt you were ready. Now I have to go, my men are tailing Donavan but if I’m right. Someone else has been waiting for you to make the sort of blundering mistakes you have.” King concluded turning to leave.

“You don’t mean…?” Val whispered unable to believe the implication.

“Whatever entity stood in front of television cameras allowing you to see it. Yes, that creature. It most likely wanted to separate you and Donavan for the real threat to collect him without my intervention or yours. And you with your lies have made it that much fucking easier. I would suggest you try the honest approach going forward Mate,” King said and continued on. The door to the house opened and closed. A guttural sound of the motocycle engine came next. Val dropped to his knees, the full weight of all his situations and mistakes bringing him low.

Somewhere out there, a creature with his wife’s face knew about him. Somewhere out there Donavan was being lured to a trap. What was he going to do?

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

11. You Used to Love It

This chapter is the last good one for a while. I mean, there’s some pain here, I suppose, but nothing like what’s about to happen in the next few chapters. And, I’d like to dedicate this particular one to the apex of the Mall Rats shippers @scipunk63 and of course, my Infinity Train fandom ace boon koon @i-am-a-passenger 3668 Words

Previous

Even the idea of going back to school after the awesome summer that she had SUCKED. She halfway had the mind to tell her parents that she’d like to go back to personal professors, but she knew that ship had sailed. With her father being up in arms about her academic career and the fact that she hadn’t yet started looking for colleges… She didn’t NEED college, and if ever she did, she’d have enough to go then, so there was no need for her to lose her mind over it like he was.

“Grace!” Ah, finally. Some good fucking company. 

Simon rushed to her and grabbed her from the ground to squeeze her into a tight hug. He immediately began talking to her about school. She sighed. They had one more weekend before school began, so she straight up just cupped her hand over his mouth and shook her head. Then, she removed her hand and eyed him suspiciously.

“What’s happened to your face?” she asked.

“What’s… happened… to it?” He repeated, confused.

“Did you do something?”

“Is this like that time you thought my eye color changed?”

“No! This is real… WAIT. Did you do your eyebrows? AND shave off your peach fuzz??” She was on the verge of laughter.

“I think it makes me look more presidential,” he said, straightening the collar of his hoodie.

She laughed, “Sir, you are the junior class president…”

“Also debate captain, academic decathlon, I have a position in journalism,” he grumbled, ‘Two actually,” and completed his list, “As well as STILL the top of our class. People won’t take me seriously if I don’t take myself seriously. That’s one thing that my dad taught me.”

“He should’ve added that they won’t take you seriously if you take yourself too seriously, because I definitely do not.”

“Rude. I shouldn't give you your welcome home present… But, I already spent money on it.”

“You… spent money on me? Simon! You KNOW that you don’t have to do that!”

“Yeah, but I wanted to, and I rarely ever do. Besides, it’s a special occasion. The Apex is back together.” He pulled a gift basket out of his bag and presented it to her. 

“This is from that fancy custom basket place near the mall!” she said. That was WAY out of Simon’s budget, but also, not returnable. “Simon!” She fussed.

“Please, just tell me that you love it.”

“I do!” She accepted it with damp eyes and a trembling lip. There was a boxed honeycomb, a bottle of honeysuckle nectar extract, and a honey bun shaped like a bear. “This is really cute, Simon. I really love it. It’s one of the best gifts you’ve ever given me.” She reached out to hug him and he went in for a kiss. She gasped and he startled, then she rested her head against his chest and he rested his face on her hair… both confused as to why the other acted that way.

.

Honey had become one of Grace’s things, because of the products she represented and her natural branding, over the summer, she’d been being called, The Internet’s Honey, and so she ran with it. Apex members were putting the little honeypot emojis in her comments, brands started sending her their honey - which she loved because she could use it for SO many health and beauty purposes, but also, she was reckless and sometimes, just wanted to eat it. Her favorite way was to eat the honeycomb, with a fancy soft cheese and some fruit - generally honeydew melon, just because there sort of was a flow of collaboration. 

Simon had commented on a post she made while she was on the road that she should do one of those ASMR eating honeycomb videos… More people liked that comment than she expected. She wasn’t planning on doing ASMR anything and thought it was such a weird thing for Simon, of all people to comment on a post of hers! But, even though she wasn’t going to do one of those at this point in time - she just felt weird about all of her followers watching her eat, even if it was trendy - she still ate around Simon, and on their calls he kept asking her to do the honeycomb thing.

“What is with you, Dude?”

He blushed a lot and shook his head, “I just like it. There’s something soothing about watching you eat and it’s something you love, and I really like the sound, too.” 

She gave him a look but reached for her snacking sack and looked through it. “I’ve got mostly fruit snacks in this thing. Ummm… some dried mango, banana, pineapple… a jar of country peach preserves…”

“Are the preserves chunky?”

She examined the jar, “There are pretty big peach pieces in here, actually.” She looked at the anticipation on his face and wondered, “What, you expect me to just eat this with my hands? I definitely don’t have a spoon in here,” she glanced around the hotel she was staying in.

“What’s wrong with eating with your fingers?” he wondered.

“It’s messy! Then, I’ll have to suck my fingers, and this is already weird enough, Simon. What… is this gonna do for you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know,  it’s relaxing, and you’re just usually the person who helps me relax the most.”

“The anticipation of school got you riled up?”

“The anticipation of things with your dad.” he sighed. 

She nodded, “He stresses me out too.” She laughed at herself, shook her head and said, “Fine, fine. I guess… here I am eating peach preserves out of a jar, with my fingers, for my best friend.”

“It’s a show of love,” he said, as he began recording her on their video call.

Presently, she asked him, “Are you gonna wanna watch me eat the contents of this gift?”

“Very intently.” She laughed. She didn’t get it, but also… It did seem to help him out the times she’d done so on his calls, and it didn’t seem sexual or anything.

Over the weekend, he was with her at the house. Her parents were away, and most likely wouldn’t be back until the week after school began. That meant that Simon would be spending every night that they weren’t there with her. She didn’t want to stay in the house, either. Especially if they were going to be milking the boyfriend/girlfriend thing. She wanted to be out and about with him, maybe cause some trouble, do some secret destroying. 

He was perfectly content to just stay inside, just the two of them, because they hadn’t been able to be that way for a while. Of course, her desires won out. They went to the mall that evening. It was only open for a few more hours, but they loved the mall. They used to frequent it and were actually banned from a few stores, but they hadn’t been in a while and she wanted a corn dog from the Corn Dog Express. 

She generally didn’t have any pockets, and Simon generally had several large ones (some with buttons), so he always carried her wallet and whenever they (she) bought something, he usually handed over the card. She thought about carrying a fanny pack, because it latched on to you, but she just couldn’t rectify the thought with the fact that those things were hideous. Maybe if she were trapped in uncivilized society...

So, whenever they got to the Corn Dog Express and ordered, she turned to look at him when they were given the total. “I… don’t have it..” Simon told her. She furrowed her eyebrows and patted herself down. Did she… forget her wallet? And her cell phone?? The clerk looked annoyed while Grace looked worried. She could have sworn that she picked them up on their way out of the door..

“Did you two really order all of this without any money?”

“Chill out. She may have forgotten her wallet. It happens.” Simon said, annoyed at the guy’s tone.  He went to the back and Simon heard him say that there was “some Black girl out there trying to scam” them. He immediately was not pleased with that, and he saw from Grace’s face that she’d heard it too. 

“Let’s just go,” she said, softly. “I should’ve been more attentive.”

“Mmhmm,” Simon said, but he didn’t budge, save to pull out his phone. 

She made a sad face. She really wanted the dogs. “Simon? Did you hear me? I left my wallet at home, not to mention my cell phone. No need for me to further embarrass myself. I don’t even think we’ll have time to go get it and come back before the mall closes.” 

But whenever the clerk came back with the manager with him, Simon began announcing, “This null who works at the Corn Dog Express just described Grace Monroe, of the Monroe Square Monroes, as ‘this Black chick trying to scam them.’ Scam them. At the Corn Dog Express. In the mall. That’s it. That’s the entire post.” 

Grace covered her mouth and said, “Umm… Simon…” She was actually even more embarrassed, because obviously, these people didn’t know her. They weren’t her target audience, probably had only seen her family name on the plaques of buildings, and she really just wanted to go.

“You are fucking lucky that I don’t make you bob for corn dogs in that hot grease, you…” Grace pulled Simon’s arm and called his name. “You fucking short sighted, beast faced, insignificant little prick. She could buy this entire mall, never touch it again and STILL be above you. Who do you think you are?” The clerk was grateful that they had a plastic display between him and Simon. He looked terrified and the manager was confused but trying to speak on behalf of the company that they didn’t intend to upset Ms. Monroe... 

“Simon! Can we PLEASE. Just. Go?” He looked over and she had her fists clenched and she was shaking. He didn’t know if she was mad or sad… or what. It was unclear, but she was asking for them to go. That was clear.

“Are you sure?” he asked her, an eyebrow raised. He had been two seconds away from hopping the counter after this guy.

“I’m positive,” she said, through her teeth, tugging him by the sleeve to come with her. He knocked over everything on the counter, with purpose, looking right into the eyes of his target of anger as they passed it. “Sorry,” she told the workers. She would make sure that they were compensated for that entire scene.

Simon was casually on his phone as she dragged him outside of the mall and whenever they got to the parking lot, he said, “Posted it! We’ll let the Apex at him, now.” She groaned and released him with a shove of the hand she had been clutching his sleeve with.

“What?” He asked.

“Simon… I left my wallet at home. That experience was because of MY mistake, and you just attacked that guy like he was some kind of enemy combatant.”

“He was very rude to you and I didn’t like his tone when he spoke about you. I was defending you. How is that a problem?”

“Because, I have a reputation, Simon! I have a brand. An image! I can’t just go around slapping things off of counters whenever I can’t pay the man at the counter! People SAW us! Some looked like they were recording!” She was highly upset. “You… are gonna go to college, get a degree, build a career. You have several talents and intelligence and pathways. I’ve got THIS, Simon. MY future is nested inside of my personality, and the world can’t think that I’m this person that goes off on people like a rotten brat. I can’t believe that you would put me in something like this!”

“I thought we were in this together. The Apex sticks together.”

“I wish you would’ve stuck with me when I was asking you to leave!” 

He ran his hands through his hanging strands of hair and shook his head, “I thought you’d be happy. You used to love when I defended you.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Simon! You can’t DO THAT to people!” she snapped and walked off, hugging herself. “You can’t do that to people,” she said softly and sniffled. Where the hell was she going? He followed her, silently. He had already apologized. Why wasn’t she… doing something to make him feel better about her being upset with him?

“Okay. I’ll follow your lead, Grace. I won’t react next time unless you tell me to.” 

She looked at him. She seemed like she wanted to say more to him, but she just gave him a small smile and collected him by his hoodie string. “Let’s just go home and order in. We can watch one of your fantasy movies, or something.” he still looked nervous, like he was worried that she was still mad. She… didn’t ever get mad at him and she was realizing this as she watched him process how she’d just yelled at him in this public space. “That okay with you, Eyebrows?” he chuckled and wrapped an arm around her with a single nod. 

Still… They both felt it. Something just wasn’t right between them.

.

It blew up. Of course it did. What started with Simon’s post generating a massive amount of hate at the Corn Dog Express and the employees there, spiraled into Apex stans making death threats, doxxing these people, and harassing their family members. Grace went live several times to remind them not to do this and to explain that it was indeed her fault that she couldn’t pay because she left her wallet, and assuring fans that she paid after the fact and held no hostility for the staff there. 

“I am demanding that the real Apex stand down this time. I’m human. I made a mistake. Yes, the clerk could have been nicer, but I don’t know what kind of day he had or what’s happened to him before. I didn’t take it personally. Simon is a little bit more sensitive about these things happening to me and he got upset and tried to defend me. We’ve talked about it. We’re on the same page. Please leave that guy alone, Apex. Come on. Listen to your Honey.” 

With the incident going viral, in those comments appeared a very aggressive woman who wanted to draw people’s attention to her post from a few years prior. It was a post where she cried on camera, showed off bruises and described two kids that beat her up on the train. 

Grace gasped whenever she noticed her. Apex members were cussing her out and accusing her of lying, but she was claiming that she even tore out a handful of the girl’s hair and that she was POSITIVE that it was the girl in this video, and she knew that Simon was the same boy, because he looked exactly the same, but longer. She meant taller, and Grace hadn’t thought about that woman in almost as much time since her hair grew back.But, she definitely recognized her whenever she went to her profile.

Then Shana’s little bitch ass comes in to comment, “Actually, I very clearly remember her showing up in society with a shaved head around that time, so I believe you. They call her the Internet’s Honey, but she’s actually a violent, destructive sociopath and I hope that you get your justice.”

Grace’s head was spinning. She didn’t know what to do with bad publicity and this felt like it was a lot. Should she call her mom? Her mom would kill her! 

She saw Simon arguing with Shana in the comments, “Do you realize that whenever Grace went natural we were 12? You’re going to believe this stranger when she says that unprovoked Grace and I just beat her up for no reason? I know you’re a jerk, but I thought you were smart.”

The woman fussed, “You put me in a choke hold and crushed my esophagus while she punched me in the ribs and stomach!”

“Prove it, null,” Simon almost instantly typed.

“I still have her hair!”

“And what? You think that your lawyers are going to be able to demand that she release a sample to check it against the hair that your nasty ass has been carrying around for god knows how long? FOH. You deserved to be thrown to the wheels of the train and you got off easy, Jealous Null. You’re jealous of her. Every hater is jealous. Shana certainly is. She’d say anything to try to look better, since the hair weave and makeup doesn’t help.”

“If it doesn’t help, how come you think I’m almost as pretty as her?”

Grace waited for Simon to respond, but instead, she watched as both Shana’s and the woman’s comments vanished… Simon had obviously signed into her account and blocked them. She was both relieved and upset. 

This was EXACTLY the kind of thing that she wanted him to not do on her behalf. She started crying. Moments later, he was calling. “Hey… I spoke with your dad. They’re gonna take care of it, okay?”

“What? What did you say?”

“I said that a woman who attacked you a few years ago on the train is claiming that we beat her up, when we actually defended you against her and I gave him the time and date and train, in case they need to go back and check out the surveillance. If it still exists.”

“What?? My parents can’t know that I got into a fight on the train, Simon!”

“You defended yourself on the train. We were 12. That was a grown ass woman and she hit you first.” There was silence. “Grace, please don’t tell me that you’re mad at me again for fixing the problem for you?”

“No,” but she was frustrated about all of this. “I just… My dad… how did he sound?”

“He said he was pleased that I thought to call him.”

“I just don’t want them to be disappointed in me. I don’t want to hurt them like that, and I don’t want them to hurt me.”

“They won’t.” He heard her sniffling on the other end of the calling as she read the comments. “I’m coming over.”

“We’ve got school in the morning.”

“Yeah, which we would’ve rode together to anyway.”

“Simon…”

“You don’t need me?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then, I’m on my way.

Grace cried a lot, curled up in a ball in Simon’s lap. It wasn’t their usual. She didn’t generally come to him with things. She cried on her own, but since he had insisted on being there and insisted on holding her, that’s where she landed and she had to admit that it wasn’t bad, at all. He had told her father that he was going to keep her company and make sure she was safe and sound all night and her father had advised them both to go to school the following day and if anyone asked anything about that woman and her accusations to tell them that they are not at liberty to speak about it.

Grace just hoped that this weekend was not some indication of what type of school year that they might have. She woke up to see Simon climbing out of her bed, shirtless? When did he take off his shirt? Probably in the middle of the night, because he was always hot and always in long sleeves. She had never seen his physique before, that she could remember. Even when they went swimming, he generally wore a wetsuit that was tight fitting, but still covered up everything. He heard her gasp and he jumped and looked at her. “Simon, what happened to your arm?” She asked, climbing out of bed to rush to him. “… Did your mom do this to you?” She wondered, touching his faded tally marks. 

He quickly grabbed his undershirt and said, “I won’t like to talk about this.” She bit her lip and wished that she could help him somehow. He smiled softly and kissed her on the forehead, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. Just… If you need me today, say the word.”

“What should I even say?”

He thought for a while, “Say, charge.”

She laughed, “Are you gonna charge?”

“If you say charge, somebody is getting messed up.” She laughed lightly. She needed his sense of humor.

“I’m not saying charge, Dude. The way that the Internet has reacted to me telling you NOT to do something? I say charge and they’ll crucify me. My mom’s gonna wind up taking over my social media again.” She rolled her eyes and went for her uniform.

“A signal, then. I need to know when you need me to attack.”

“Simon,” she laughed. “I don’t ever need you to attack. Remember that you’ve got college courses starting this year and college is like super important to you?”

“You’re super important to me too,” he confessed, casually.

Soon, they were dressed, out the door, and heading for the campus. More kids were around outside than typically and Simon knew that it was because they were all waiting for them to arrive. He met Grace at her door and helped her out of the car. They checked each other out, gave a nod to each other that both were good to go, and turned at the same time to walk into the school. 

Simon was confident. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Grace had gotten upset over the weekend, but he had done nothing wrong and she was clearly just stressed out, because last night, she’d let him comfort her and be her support system. She had let him hold her and wipe her tears and lift her up. She had let him back in. He was confident that the Apex was going to become stronger than ever before, and keep growing. They stopped at the stop of the stairs and she leaned on his shoulder. A couple of the boys that Grace had kissed on the cheek the previous year rushed to grab the doors for them and the other present Apex kids gathered behind them, following them inside when they went into the building.

Next

[chasingforeverandaday]

Prompt: Gendry is too exhausted from days/ weeks of forging weapons to fight in the battle so he is told to go to the crypts...

So that got away from me. Like a lot. Apparently I’m bad at writing quick little ficlets. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and thank you so much for the prompt!

(also on ao3)

Staring at the far wall of the grain store, Arya listened to the distant sounds of the last night in Winterfell. The muffled music and shouting of those drinking away their pain; the laughing and crying of children too young to understand the odds of the coming fight; the moans and groans of lovers desperate for one last time together.

But mostly she focused on Gendry’s heavy breathing next to her on the sacks, unchanged since they’d rolled apart moments ago. Instead of passing out immediately, as she’d always heard men were wont to do after sex, he shifted closer and curled his body around hers, unarguably awake. When his hands began to wander once more, she grinned to herself before remembering the tiredness that had been warring with the desire in his eyes earlier. “You should be sleeping.” 

“Why would I be doing that, when I have you right here next to me?” Gendry nuzzled his nose against the nape of her neck, squeezing his arms tighter around her waist. She leaned into the touch, arching her back so her skin pressed against his. His arousal was quickly making itself known behind her as he began to kiss and suck his way along her neck, moaning as she ground her arse into him. Wrapped up in his embrace, she wanted to give in to the heat coiling in her belly once more, wanted to let herself fall back into his arms until nothing else mattered. 

But she couldn’t. He couldn’t afford her to. 

“Gendry, you haven’t slept more than a few hours since you arrived in Winterfell.” Turning in his arms, she lightly pushed his head away from hers and let the cool night air leech the warmth from between them. At his sad frown, she couldn’t help one more quick, simple kiss before she moved back again. “You need to rest, you have to be alert when the dead arrive.”

“How the hell would you know that?” He looked confused for a second and then annoyed, then almost angry. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Of course I have,” she rolled her eyes at the pouting now crossing his face, “how else was I supposed to make sure you were eating and sleeping?”

He raised an eyebrow. “By talking to me?” 

“You were a bit busy forging weapons the last few weeks now, weren’t you?” She sighed, not wanting to fight but knowing she needed to say things he may not want to hear, especially since he seemed so determined to have her again.  Not that she’d have complained under other circumstances. “You’re exhausted from all the labor, don’t hide it from me. I know how you lie.”

“Seems you know everything and I’m still a stupid blacksmith who knows nothing, is that how it is?” He released a loud huff as he collapsed down onto the sacking, no longer hovering over her.

Sensing that she’d riled him up in a decidedly not fun way, Arya bit her lip before settling herself back into his chest, head tucked securely into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, but please Gendry, sleep. You’re the one who said the coming dead were like nothing I’d ever seen before. We need to take all the respite we can in the hours we have left.”

“Maybe,” he said, “maybe.” Their eyes met, and Arya’s breath caught in her throat as she found the raw passion in his heated gaze. “But I believe you’re the one who said we were probably going to die, so maybe I want to enjoy my last few hours in this miserable world doing something worthwhile.”

Softening, she leans up to kiss him firmly on the lips. “I’ve changed my mind.” When a lusty look enters his eyes, she quickly covers his mouth with a hand. “You’re not allowed to die, I won’t let you.” Tucking her head under his chin, she feels him sigh before the strongest arms she knows fold her into his warm chest.

“As my lady commands.”

Half laugh, half yawn, the sound that escapes her is truly mortifying. “Don’t call me that.” 

A tired smirk crosses his face before sleep takes him, mumbling, “Yes, love,” into her hair. She snuggles closer, letting his steady breath lull her into the darkness.

-/-/-

When the bells ring out over the snowy grounds of Winterfell, Arya wakes. She is curled up with her head resting on her lover’s shoulder, a hand pressed over his steady beating heart. Breathing in his ever present scent of fire and ash, she sighs and kisses his chest once more before finally pushing herself up and looking for her clothing.

No words are said in the eerie silence, only the rustling of clothes and the growing sounds of a castle coming to life. It takes her a moment to realize there are no sounds of dressing from the other side of their makeshift bed, only the light snores that had been her lullaby. Pausing from lacing her boots, she reaches over to rouse him gently, trying to coax him back to awareness.

“Gendry, please, we need to go.” Still he snores on, though his hand bats hers away in his slumber. She shakes him harder, only getting a grunt in response. Slightly panicked now, she climbs over him, letting her weight drop onto his torso as she takes his face in her hands. “Gendry, wake up!”

Bleary blue eyes finally open, though they show little awareness. His hands slowly come up to grasp her waist, an exhausted mirror to their position hours ago. “...Arya?” he asks her, looking up with a confused smile.

“Yes, it’s Arya.” As his tired eyes track her movements to get off of him, her heart tightens in fear. There’s no way she can let him fight in this state. No matter his insistence on being a fighter, she’d be sending him to certain death. And that is a fate she cannot fathom for her blacksmith. “Gendry, I need you to get up, and get dressed. You need to get to the crypts before the dead breach the walls.”

“Not going to the crypts, ‘m supposed to be on the front line,” he tells her, struggling to right himself as she finds his clothes. 

Placing herself in front of him, she helps him back into his shirt and pants, nearly falling into hysterics when he can barely keep his head up enough for her to get it through the collar. His forehead rests against her stomach as she bites back tears and strokes his shaved head, so painfully aware that this may be the last time she sees him, wobbly and affectionate but in no way capable of fighting.

“Gendry please, I need you to go to the crypts.” Kneeling in front of him, she tries to put every bit of her fear into her eyes, locked on his. “Please, don’t make me fight knowing you’re out there like this.”

Her stubborn, stupid, brave bull looks down, jaw set even as his hands shake when they reach for and hold hers. “Arya, I have to fight.” 

And she’s crying now, feeling like the girl who desperately tried to save her father in King’s Landing so long ago; like the girl who was terrified in the pens of Harrenhal, watching her only friend be sentenced to death by a madman with a rat; like the girl who was held back as her best friend, the only person she could call family was ripped from her hands and sold for a bag of gold, going somewhere she could not follow. Leaving her all alone. 

She feels all the helplessness she thought she’d burned out of her body come roaring back with a vengeance as she watches him wrestle with his honor and that damn promise he gave Jon to fight with him. She doesn’t care if he breaks it, if only he will be alive to repent in the morning. The sobs wrenching their way out of her steal her breath, her lungs aching. She barely knows what she is saying, only knows she will say anything to keep him safe. 

“Gendry, please,” her voice is hoarse, no more than a painful whisper as she begs him. “Please, don’t make me lose you too. I’m not strong enough to survive it.”

His head drops, the weight of it all coming down on them both. Pulling her up and into his lap, his arms come around her shaking body as he rubs along her spine with one hand, stroking her hair with the other. He nods, not putting his acquiescence into words, but placing a soft kiss to her lips as he continues to calm down her demons.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows it’s a miracle no one has come looking for either of them yet, but she cannot bring herself to part from him until she absolutely must. In the end, he is the one to stand, setting her back on her feet lightly. They dress silently, no more arguments or heartfelt words spoken as they strap on belts and layers against the cold.

Ready to leave this little haven they’ve created against the outside world, he catches her hand and reels her in one last time. Enfolded in his arms, she feels safe. Looking up at him, she closes her eyes to force back the tears and rests her forehead against his. Into the air between them, he asks, “Promise me you’ll find me after.”

Part of her wants to remind him she may not make it through the fight, but she cannot bring herself to ruin this final moment together. Cupping his cheek, she kisses him fiercely, pouring every ounce on the emotions she will not name aloud into the way she’s holding him close, trying to brand him into her soul. Breathing heavy, they break apart but open their eyes so icy gray meets smoldering blue. 

“As you wish.”

[naferty]

Little switch up where Steve is the alcoholic one. His journey mixed with abo and mpreg. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

Rock Bottom

(stony, a/b/o dynamics, mpreg, alpha!Steve, omega!Tony, alcoholic Steve, mention of depression)

~~

It wasn’t supposed to be permanent. This thing between them. Between him and Tony. 

It was meant to be a one time deal. An act encouraged by ‘down on your luck’ mentality. No strings, sexual relief. Something Steve didn’t find appealing, but for that night he acted on it. What did he have to lose? His morality had been shot to hell. His pride nonexistent. His ma would be ashamed, but she wasn’t there to yank his ear so it didn’t matter. 

No, Steve more or less broke his own rules and his mother’s teachings when life, who had been patiently waiting for this exact moment of his years, finally decided to strike. It had started with his mother. She had gotten ill. With no one to care for her and bills stacking up, Steve had to step down from his school, surrender his degree in order to help. He poured every dollar, every penny, into those bills. In the end, money wasn’t enough to heal his ailing mother. 

The day she left, something in Steve broke down, and in the months following he became a sack of potatoes dragging anyone willing to help him behind. He functioned, but he wasn’t exactly living. 

Sharon put up with this for a year. In his months of mental spiralling she had moved up the systematic ladder in an unimaginable pace and found herself a future within her reach that required her to move away. Something Steve didn’t want to do. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Not for him. Not for anyone. 

Who was Steve to begrudge her for that? He had been happy. He had been supportive. He had helped her pack her things and send her off to a bright future with no baggage from him weighing her down. It had hurt like hell, but he had been happy. So damn happy. Shame. His mother had liked her a lot, but he went and ruined it. 

Without Sharon, his apartment had become emptier. Lonelier. Very, very sad. He realized he didn’t have a lot of things to his name. Didn’t have a lot of friends either. Bucky was still in tour. Natasha was often busy with work and could only spare him a coffee date once a week. Sam often invited him to events he hosted, but Steve usually didn’t have the heart, or the motivation, to embrace the social world for strangers. Sam suspected depression. Steve believed he had hit a snag that would clear up in a month or two. 

Then came problems with work. Lay offs. Had he been singled out as non-essential? Or had his lack of motivation caught the eyes of the higher ups? He’d never know. Not when they would shove him out the door without a chance to look back. One after the other.

He should be grateful for getting jobs at all, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much for them. He got paid less than what he deserved for the treatment and respect was often nonexistent. Sam suggested help. Steve thought alcohol. 

Steve wasn’t an alcohol guy, but he understood why some would turn to it. The numb feeling helped forget his troubles. They didn’t make them disappear, but for a moment he could pretend they weren’t there. Haunting him. Looming over him. One shot became two, and eventually two would finish to three. Then he’d go home and ignore the disappointed stare he knew his ma would be giving him if she saw him now. 

He’d never pass his three limit. The days in a week would increase, but the drinks were never more than three. He considered that control. He wasn’t drinking his life away. Not until Bucky returned from overseas, injured, one arm short of when he first left, and with haunting eyes that cut even deeper into the wound his mother had left behind. 

Steve had tried to pour every bit of himself to help, but with how his own life had drained him, there was little of him left to offer. He couldn’t help like he wanted. Couldn’t be the shoulder he promised his best friend to always be. Sam had to take over and Steve… Steve was left to drink his three drinks alone and wondered when saying ‘no’ to the fourth drink had become so hard and where time had gone.

An alpha with nothing to his name and nothing to lose was a dangerous combination. With no shame and no voice in his head telling him wrong from right, Steve thought nothing of it when the newly introduced omega Natasha had brought in showed interest. The attention had been flattering and Steve would be lying if he said the omega wasn’t downright gorgeous, but like he said, he thought nothing of it. 

The omega flirted, but Steve simply responded in kind like any conversation. Natasha noticed and thought perhaps a date was exactly what Steve needed, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to be excited over the notion. Perhaps if life hadn’t beaten him down he might have given it a chance. Of course, if life hadn’t beaten him down he’d imagine Sharon would still be by his side and dating others would be off the table. 

This was his life, however, and Tony didn’t need it in his, but the omega was a stubborn one and Steve had no sensibility. Their first night together had been rushed and messy. Steve with a few drinks in him and a miserable sex life since his break up and Tony with one drink and the misfortune of having picked Steve. Surprisingly, Tony had stayed overnight in his apartment and left bright and early. Steve bid him goodbye and believed that would be the end of it. The omega wouldn’t return and Steve would continue like clockwork.  

He was wrong. 

Tony had come back the following week. Then three days after. Then the following week again. A month turned into two, and two turned into four then six and Tony continued to come back to his sorry ass. Steve should have turned his life around at this point. This beautiful omega was giving him the time of day, something he didn’t deserve, but Steve continued to ruin it by doing nothing to improve. If his ma could only see him now. 

Then came the news. Something shocking. Something that should’ve kicked his mind into high gear. Tony was pregnant. It was Steve’s. Tony wanted him to know. Tony wanted to keep the child. Steve should have responded. Surprise. Shock. Panic. Happy. Anything. He didn’t react. 

Steve would help. Of course he would. Even in his drunken state he knew the right thing to do was be there and help. What little he could offer. It wasn’t much. Drinks still managed to find their way to his system. Tony would glow and grow. Steve continued to nurse a glass. Tony would always return to him. Nothing changed. 

Not until a right smack to the head was given by Tony’s best friend. Rhodey. Tall and serious and independent. Clean shaven with an aura of strength. A provider. A leader. Everything an alpha should be. Everything Steve might have been once. Everything Steve could still be. 

“I don’t know what it is about Tony that attracts deadbeats and drunks to him and I sure as hell don’t know what he sees in you, but if you’re here to stay you better man up and get help or let Tony go so he can find an actual alpha. He and the kid deserve that at least.” 

And it was true. Tony and the child do deserve that. Deserve everything. Deserve what Steve couldn’t provide. What did Tony see in him? What had he seen to even try? Why return to him? Sharon got the hell out of dodge. Tony should have followed her footsteps. It would have saved him a lot of grief. 

But Tony always returned. Always came back. Gave Steve seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. He thought Steve was worth something. Worth the time. 

Steve stared at his reflection in the bathroom in disgust. His ma would be beside herself. His pa disappointed. Bucky wouldn’t recognize him anymore. No one would. 

He didn’t.

He shaved that night. Bottles that littered his cabinets were emptied and thrown. He cleaned up. Himself and his apartment. It still looked empty, but it was a clean empty now. A beginning empty. The start of something new. 

He sought help. Asked Sam for recommendations. Signed up for every group available. Sam patted his shoulder in encouragement. 

“It’s good to have you back.” 

He got burgers and a card for Tony. His favorite. They ate together. In the card he had written an apology. For all the time Tony had wasted on him. For having Steve hold him back. For Steve not caring enough. For falling for an alpha that didn’t deserve him. Steve promised to do better. For him and for the child. Steve wanted to be there. He wanted to help. As both a mate and a father. If Tony would have him. 

Tony had called him a dumbass and blamed the tears on the pregnancy. 

It wasn’t supposed to be permanent, but Steve was grateful for every day he woke up to the cheers of an energetic child, going three years sober, and his beautiful Tony groaning for five more minutes. 

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Sixteen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

Time Will Take It’s Toll

Inhaling a breath had her coughing into her arm for a few moments and clearing her throat. The explosion had knocked the wind out of her, and her lungs were still complaining about it. Her leg was starting to ache from all the running and how she’d fallen, too.

She’d managed to slip away from the men shortly after they realised the explosion hadn’t killed her, scattering to try and find where she’d gone. She’d just sat there for a little while, regaining control of her breathing, of her pounding heart, then got up and run.

He’s been looking for me.

Sniffing and lifting her head, Ada let Mags walk idly down the main and only street of Van Horn. It was, as always, quiet. A couple of men sat on the porch outside a shop, talking and smoking. A man lay by the water, sat up against a rock, asleep.

Sadie waved to her from outside the bar, her mustard coloured shirt acting like a beacon amongst the dark and dinginess of the town, and Ada raised her hand in greeting.

“You okay?” the older woman asked as she approached, gently pulling Mags to a stop.

“Yeah. Some idiot thought playing with dynamite would be fun, though.”

“Yeah, I heard. Was gonna come back to see if you were alive but I thought you’d be fine.”

Ada laughed, inclining her head. “Yeah, well, I seem to be. Think I’ve got some dust in my chest but what’s new.”

Sadie nodded her head in the direction of the saloon doors. “Want to get a drink?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Here, are you kidding me?”

Sadie smiled as she pushed her hat onto her head and mounted her horse. “Thought you might say that.”

 “Hey, hey, wait a second!”

The two women turned to the calling voice, Ada stiffening, Sadie arching an eyebrow. A man narrowed his eyes at them, his hands on his hips as he stood from the bench where he’d been talking with another man.

“Yeah?” Sadie answered.

“That’s my horse!”

Ada answered this time, relieved. “No, it isn’t.”

“Yeah, it is,” the man insisted, his voice cracking. “That’s Louisa!”

“No, it ain’t,” Sadie drawled.

“Yes, it is, now you give her back, you damn wh—”

The women settled their hands on their guns.

The man froze, glanced at the weapons, then smiled quickly.

“Y-yeah, I guess not, sorry, my eyes ain’t so good,” he laughed nervously, lowering back down onto the bench.

“That’s all right, friend, no harm done,” Ada called cheerily, realising faintly that Arthur had said nearly those exact words several times.

Well, look at me.

Sadie chuckled as they rode out of the tiny town, shaking her head. “I love people sometimes.”

Ada snorted. “All right, I feel a little bad.”

“Don’t. He called her Louisa, that’s reason enough for him not to have her.”

“What do you have against the name Louisa?”

“Nothin’, just a dumb name for a horse.”

—

Charles came back for them all an hour or so after she and Sadie returned, safe and fine, and he reassured her so was Arthur.

Ada dismounted Mags, stroking the horse’s neck gently as her eyes scanned their new home. Well... The new camp would have to do, no matter what she thought, and she thought it wasn’t much of a home anymore. She’d arrived a little behind the others, just in case they’d been followed, so they’d had some time to set up but... It seemed no one had taken the care they used to in doing so. Tents and tables were set up but nothing more, the wagons hadn’t been unpacked properly and she couldn’t place that down to lack of time or people as everyone was either sat or lying down.

They expect to move on soon, she realised, very soon.

Her gaze found Arthur’s as she approached where he had been talking with Dutch, and he moved towards her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered, smiling at the sight of him. He’d shaved, thank God.

“Not much, is it?” He’d clearly had the same thoughts.

“It’ll do, I suppose.” Her arms wrapped around his waist as his went around her, holding her close.

“Are you okay?” she murmured, her fingers stroking his back.

“Yeah. You were righ’, they’re strange folks, those Murfrees.” 

She snorted. “You’re damn right.”

A corner of his mouth twisted up before he lowered his head and captured her lips in a kiss she knew they both needed. It lingered, deepening as his arms tightened around her. She smiled against his lips, half-heartedly trying to draw her head back.

“Arthur...”

“Lot of caves down there, lots of secret passages...”

She arched an eyebrow as his lips went to her cheek, unable to stop a smile. “If you think I’m gonna be able to relax in those caves after what Charles told me...”

“I can make you forget all that, though...”

“Stop it...” she laughed, trying to turn her head away from his sinful lips even as her stomach tightened at the thought. It had been so long since they’d been alone, all she’d had when he was away was thoughts and memories and—

“Hey.”

They both stiffened, their heads lifting as Arthur automatically half-turned his back to shield her.

Molly, Christ, Molly, came stumbling down the path. If she hadn’t clearly been drunk Ada would have thought she'd spent the last few weeks living in luxury with her skin and clothes being clean and neat and her hair perfect.

“So, Dutch!” she called out, “Did ye miss me?!” She stumbled closer to them, Dutch only a few feet away. Ada glanced at him, finding his features stony.

“I found her, drunk in Saint Denis,” Uncle was explaining somewhat apologetically, trying to keep up with her.

“You’re back. How jolly, Miss O’Shea,” Dutch retorted sarcastically, stepping closer.

“It’s ‘Molly’, you sack of shit!” she cried, rage pouring out of her.

“Back and drunk.”

“Who made you the master, the Lord Almighty!”

“Molly, calm down,” he demanded as she waved her arms around.

The gang had gathered now, everyone staring and not knowing what to do, Ada included. She felt Arthur beside her, silent and tense.

“I won’t be ignored, Dutch van der Linde! I hear all ye conversations! I hear all ye whisperin’! But I won’t be ignored! I aren’t him!” She pointed at Bill. “Thick as shit but would probably turn ye over in a heartbeat!” She turned, swaying, and pointed at Mary-Beth who looked so distraught. “I ain’t her! Ye’re little whore!” Then, she turned to Ada, pointing at her. “And I ain’t her, ye bloody O’Driscoll, thinkin’ ye’re holy than thou!” 

Ada felt her heart drop into her stomach as she stared at her, a terrified coldness sweeping over her body. Molly just turned to Dutch. “I ain’t any of your stooges!”

“Calm yourself, miss!” Dutch was angry now, truly angry.

“You don’t owe me nothin’!” She was squaring up to him now. “I don’t owe you nothin’! Nothin’! Even though I did all ye’re dirty work!”

“Okay, okay,” he said, suddenly trying to calm her as much as himself, probably.

She wasn’t having it as she turned away. “I’d spit in yer eye!” Then, she turned back, pointing at him and looking as if something just suddenly came to her. “I did! I told them!” she shouted.

The mood shifted very sharply.

“I’m sorry?” Dutch hissed, staring at her.

“Yeah, I told ‘em! And I’d tell ‘em again! Now I’ve got God’s ear!”

“You told who what?” he demanded, thunderous.

“Mr Milton and Mr Ross,” she practically trilled, waving her hand, “about the bank robbery, and I wanted them to kill ye!” She thrust her finger at him.

Something inside Ada twisted sharply.

It wasn’t her fault. Because of Molly, Lenny and Hosea had died and John had been captured... She wanted to yell at her, to kick and scratch and scream, but... she just couldn’t bring herself to hate her. She pitied her too much.

Dutch, though...

“You did what?!” He drew his gun with an anger she had never seen before, and aimed it at Molly.

“I loved you, you God damn bastard!” she shouted, tears pouring down her cheeks. “Go on, shoot me!”

Ada heard Arthur murmuring to Dutch, a hand on his shoulder, but she couldn’t look, couldn’t look away from Molly.

“She’s crazy,” Arthur was saying quietly, trying to push Dutch’s gun down, “She ain’t worth it.”

“You told on me?! You betrayed me?!” Dutch was shouting but Molly was barely listening, staring at him and talking over him, elated, “Oh, you’re not so big now, are ye?”

“Quiet!” Arthur commanded her before murmuring to Dutch, “Just calm down.”

Dutch’s gaze darted to him.

“She’s a fool,” Arthur continued, nodding slightly, “Get her outta here.”

Dutch stared at him, then thundered, to him or Molly she didn’t know, “You know the rules.”

“Oh, not so big now!” Molly was still going on, nearly screaming, “Are we, your majesty?!”

“You—”

A gunshot rang out, a bullet tearing through Molly’s stomach.

"Damn!” Bill cried as people gasped and Ada’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, holding in her cry as they all watched a dark redness blossom across Molly’s white blouse.

Susan stepped forward, gripping a shotgun, as Molly collapsed, dead, and Ada could hear Mary-Beth sobbing.

Oh my God.

“She knew the rules, Arthur,” Susan hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She turned sharply. “Mr Pearson, Mr Williamson, get this body outta here and get it burnt! Now get back to work, all of ya!”

As they all moved instantly, startled into it, in her peripheral vision she saw Dutch turn to her, so slowly it was almost like a dream. Lowering her hands, knowing they were shaking, she met his gaze.

He looked at her.

   Oh, God, Molly, I’m so sorry.

"She never liked me,” she heard herself saying. She had no idea how she kept her composure, how her voice didn’t shake, how she sounded so sad and calm and casual at the same time.

Maybe because her life was on the fucking line.

She stared at him as he looked at her.

A lifetime seemed to pass, then he nodded and turned away, moving towards his tent. Arthur was looking at her, but he didn’t say anything, just turned sharply on his heel and strode after Dutch, spitting out curses.

She felt sick. She felt cold and hot and angry and sad and helpless and useless.

Folding her arms, her hands gripping her biceps to hide her shaking hands, Ada watched as Bill and Pearson carried Molly’s body away. They were going to burn her. She felt tears stinging at her eyes. Because of her they’d died. And she’d called her an O’Driscoll? Where the fuck had that come from? Her mind should have been racing, she should have been relieved Molly hadn’t been made to elaborate, but...

Despite what she’d done, she couldn’t hate her, she couldn’t...

Molly, I’m so sorry.

 “Hey, honey.”

She stiffened. Micah, who had been so quiet these past couple of months, who had barely said a word to her, who had seemed so disinterested, smiled as he approached her.

“What do you want.”

He laughed, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “So abrupt. I can’t just say hello?”

“What do you want, Micah.”

“Nothin’.” His smile lingered. “Just wanted to ask how your day was goin’, that’s all.”

“It was fine.” She didn’t like that he continued to smile, even as he followed the direction of her gaze, watching Bill and Pearson.

“Yeah, big mess, ain’t it.”

She didn’t say a word.

“Well.” His hands clapping together made her jump, her nails digging into her biceps. “I expect things will sort themselves out soon.” He grinned. “Hope your day gets better, darlin’.”

He wandered away, humming to himself as he headed for the main fire, Charles and Uncle sat before it, silent, staring into the flames. Her gaze lifted from them and... she saw Karen, looking at her, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly looked away as Ada met her gaze. Starting to tremble, Ada turned and saw Tilly... sat against a tree, crying, looking at her. She, too, looked away.

Oh, my God... It’s in their minds... Whether they believe it or not, it’s in their minds...

She felt like she was going to faint. Lifting her gaze again, she found Arthur striding towards her, his features tight. Lowering her arms as he approached, she didn’t have a chance to speak as his hand settled on her back and pushed her into a walk with him.

“C’mon, we’re goin’ out.”

“Where?” she asked, so relieved, moving towards Mags.

“I don’t know, huntin’ or somethin’,” he muttered, mounting Ophelia. “Need some God damn space from here.”

She pulled herself up into Mags’s saddle, and met Javier’s gaze. He just looked at her. He didn’t look away. Turning Mags around, she pressed her lips together as she and Arthur rode out of camp, clicking her tongue to urge Mags into a trot so she could take the lead.

“I know a place.”

Arthur just grunted in response, and she let silence fall, letting him work through what he needed to, and, God, she just couldn’t talk anymore. They pressed on into a canter, both eager to get away from what had once been home.

— 

The crumbling sign on the wooden archway had faintly read ‘Willard’s Rest’.

Arthur could see no Willard, though.

And he was damn fucking happy for it.

The cabin was empty, though furniture still remained in the three rooms that made it up; a bed in two of the rooms, one large, one small, a table and chairs in the main room along with empty cabinets. It was fairly clean, a slight layer of dust, but otherwise fine. It was probably too far out for most travellers, and maybe too hidden, too, the trees giving good coverage at the front, the cliff at the back.

“How’d you find this place?” he asked, removing his gloves and dropping them on to the table as he returned from his perusing of the rooms to see if they were clear.

“Sadie and I came here once when we went out hunting, when we were hiding at Lakay.” Ada hissed softly as she rose, her leg stiff, having just about managed to light a fire in the hearth opposite the table. A light rain had started as they’d arrived and she was absolutely not going to spend the night in a freezing cabin.

 “Mmh. This is quite a way from there.” Arthur took a seat as she stood by the fire, warming her hands.

“We just started riding and didn’t stop.” She smiled slightly. “Think we just wanted space, too.”

He nodded, stretching his legs out as his gaze roamed the room again. “This is nice. Seems like someone just moved out.”

“That’s what Sadie and I thought.”

He looked to her as she rubbed her arms and leaned against the wall. “You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured.

He could see she was shaking, and he didn’t think it was from the rain. 

Inhaling a breath, Ada shrugged. “I don’t... I don’t know. I haven’t been... able to feel anything for the last few weeks and I’m afraid if I do, I... And what just happened, it...” She exhaled a faint, shaking laugh.

“I get it,” he murmured, guilt twisting at his heart again.

Silence lingered as she took another trembling breath, exhaled it, then paused again. Finally, she smiled slightly, her gaze holding his. “I’m so glad you came back. I’m so happy, very happy.”

He couldn’t help but match her smile even as the knife of guilt continued to twist. “Me, too.”

She licked her lips. “It... It was very hard without you, for me.”

She could feel the tears forming again, clouding her vision slightly, but she tried so hard to suppress them. If she started, she didn’t know if she would ever be able to stop.

Arthur saw it, though, and he couldn’t bear it. Rising, he moved towards her. “Hey, c’mere.”

She released another quiet, useless laugh as she straightened. “Oh no, please don’t, I don’t think I can...”

His hands went to her waist, pulling her into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around her. He felt her stiffen slightly, her arms at her sides.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair, his cheek resting atop her head.

After a few, silent moments, her hands lifted, gripping his jacket at his back. He felt it, then, her silent sobs as she held on to him, her tears wetting his shirt.

“It’s okay...” he murmured again, just holding her as she cried.

He didn’t care to recognise how long he held her for, how long she cried. He’d have done it forever, if that’s what she needed. It tore at his heart, her sobs, the burdens and fears and anxieties she was releasing with every jagged breath. He knew it would have done no good to tell her that he should have been there, he shouldn’t have left, that they should have left, run away, gone west, gone north, gone anywhere away from all of this, this crumbling society. He knew no apologies would atone for any of it. So, finally, after a lifetime, as her cries softened, he whispered one of the two things he had faith in.

“I ain’t goin’ away again, darlin’, not without you.”

“You can’t promise me that, Arthur,” she murmured, the words muffled against his chest.

“I know.” His hands caressed her back gently. “But I’m gonna do my damn best.”

Her shoulders shuddered and he thought she might dissolve into sobs again, but she inhaled a quiet breath and lifted her head. She looked at him then, holding his gaze, as if she could find the real answer, the truth, within his eyes. He didn’t know what she found but she raised her hands and wiped at her face, her palms resting over her eyes as she released a long breath. Then, her features seemed to crumble again.

“Oh, God, Molly...”

The tears came again as he held her, his heart breaking again.

“I just can’t believe she just... And how did she know...”

“She could have been lyin’,” he murmured, “Seemed to me she was just sayin’ shit about people, wanted to hurt ‘em.”

He felt her shaking her head, managing to speak through her tears as she raised her head to look at him. “I don’t think so, Arthur... Hosea knew.”

“What?”

She sniffed, taking a breath. “When Sadie and I went back to Shady Belle, a week or two after it all happened, she let me check all the rooms just in case any of you had come by and left something. I checked Hosea’s room and by his bed in a drawer was a newspaper.” She swallowed hard. “The newspaper that had me in it, the description of me and the article about my uncle looking for me.” Fresh tears began to fall. “He was an intelligent man. There’s no way he wouldn’t have figured it all out and...” Her voice broke as she continued, “and he didn’t say anything. He gave no... no indication, no hint that he knew, he just... carried on treating me the same. God’s sake...” She closed her eyes, weeping. “I wish I’d told everyone now. Not at the beginning but at some point.” She looked up at him. “Whatever had to happen would have happened. I’d like to think I would have been able to argue my case and I’d have been left alone, accepted.”

Arthur exhaled a breath as he wiped her tears away. Truthfully, he had no idea what would have happened... but...

"I’d have had your back,” he murmured, “and Sadie, Sean, Lenny, John, Abigail, and Hosea, and the girls... we know what kind of person you are.”

Her chin was trembling. “But Dutch—”

“I can’t speak for Dutch, but...” He cupped her cheek. “... we’d have been there for you.”

“I don’t know, Arthur...” She shook her head. “... I saw some of them looking at me as we left, I... I don’t know.”

“Whether they believe it or not, they know what kind of a person you are,” he repeated gently. “You did so much for ‘em while we were away. They know that. They’ll just be upset and their minds scrambled ‘cause of Molly.”

“And what a fucking mess,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I just feel so sorry for her.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know...” And he couldn’t think what else to say. He was just as sad, just as enraged. No matter the rules that wasn’t how it should have gone down. She had been drunk, out of her mind, and while he couldn’t think why she would lie about being the one to betray them, she’d seemed to have revelled in revealing it, actually, she still should have been allowed to sober up, say her piece, say why, and then they could have decided what to do... and he hoped it wouldn’t have been to fucking kill her. Molly was Molly, lazy, entitled, sour, but... she hadn’t deserved an end like that, despite what she’d done.

Then again, a small, angry, exhausted, desperately sad part of him whispered that she had. Hosea, one of the greatest men he’d ever known, the man who had practically raised him, had died in a street, bleeding out in the gutter. Lenny, the future of the gang, a kind, funny, lively boy, had died running from a situation he shouldn’t have even been in.

He just held her tighter in his embrace, knowing they both needed it. She held on to him, taking in quiet, ragged breaths as the last of her sobs faded away.

Gentle rain pattered against the roof, and he faintly hoped there wouldn’t be any leaks.

“I’ll cook us somethin’, all righ’?” he murmured, against her hair a few minutes later, his thumbs gently stroking her back. “There’s some tins of somethin’ in my saddlebag, that should do.”

She nodded, and drew her head back as she exhaled a breath, the faintest ghost of a smile on her lips. “That sounds good.”

“Good.” 

His heart ached and he couldn’t release her just yet so he bowed his head and kissed her. It was soft, gentle, meant to comfort her and silently reinforce his vow of staying with her. Her hands slid up his back, though, gripping at him again but in a decidedly more urgent manner, and he relinquished to her as she deepened the kiss.

I’ll go in a minute, he thought as an arm tightened around her waist and his other hand settled on the back of her neck. In a minute.

Then she moaned quietly against his lips, her tongue brushing against them.

He knew, he knew if it didn’t stop now then it wouldn’t later.

Her hands were at his jacket, pushing it off of his shoulders and he helped her, throwing it to the side and immediately returning his hands to her, holding her by the waist and pulling her closer.

They needed each other.

Her fingers undid the bandanna she’d returned to him from around his neck, moving to unbutton his shirt before it had even touched the ground. Knowing they both needed a breath, he pulled his lips from hers and brought them to her neck, kissing a trail down the soft column of her throat and back up, teasing along her jawline. She exhaled a moan, her fingers splaying across his bare chest as his shirt fell open, her head tipping back, her eyes closed.

One hand pulled her blouse free from where it was tucked into her trousers, his fingers tracing along her stomach and she gasped softly, probably would have jerked away involuntarily if his arm around her lower back hadn’t kept her tight against him.

Ada could feel his cock hardening against her thigh and she pushed against him, drawing a groan from him that had her shoving his shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms. He helped her again, his hands off of her for the briefest of moments before they were returning, gripping at her back and ass, pulling her as tight against him as possible. She was kissing along his shoulder, kissing at where his scar was, her teeth grazing over his skin with every one, and it drove him insane.

God, he wanted to feel her everywhere.

“Bedroom...” she breathed against his neck, as if hearing his thoughts, “... One with the bigger bed.”

“Obviously...” he groaned into her jaw, biting at it gently as she nipped at his skin in return with a moaned, “Shut up...”

Grunting with impatience, he turned them, pushing her backwards towards the bedroom with his arms remaining tight around her. If either of them stumbled a little they barely registered it, and his arm only moved from her to dart out and grip at the doorjamb so she wouldn’t knock into it. He was surprised he’d reacted in time, her fingers dancing along the waistband of his trousers and unbuttoning them thoroughly distracting.

Stumbling into the room, her back did knock against a chest of drawers, making her hiss in surprise, but it was swiftly replaced by a gasp as he turned her and her back now collided with a wall. Leaning her head back against it so she could see what she was doing, she went to push her hand into his open trousers when his knee pushed between her legs, his thigh pressing against her covered cunt. Inhaling a sharp breath, her hands gripped at his biceps as he braced a hand against the wall.

“Fuck...” he groaned as she rocked against his thigh, her eyes closed and her lips parted. “... I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes...” she breathed, her hand moving to the back of his neck. Opening her eyes, her tongue darted out over her lips. “Touch me, Arthur, please...”

His hand instantly dropped from her hip and tugged the buttons of her trousers undone. Then his hand was inside, his fingers sliding over her cunt and spreading her wet lips. She couldn’t and didn’t care to stop herself from crying out, her nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Oh, Christ, Arthur...” She had to trail off with a breathy moan as his middle finger glided up her slit and circled her sensitive bud, making her hips buck.

She was wet already for him, enough so that he could press two fingers into her easily. His lips went to her neck as he instantly began to pump them, his other hand pulling her shirt open a little wider, hearing a button or two collide with the wooden floor but neither of them cared. His half-biting, open-mouthed kisses moved down to her throat and chest, and he growled against her skin as her slick walls fluttered around his fingers and her beautiful moans sounded against his ear.

“Fuck, Arthur...” she breathed out, and he could feel her nearing her release already, so wound up and ready for him, ready for the bliss he could give her.

“Come for me,” he commanded, kissing under her jaw so he could gravel into her ear, “Get my hand wet, sweetheart, let me feel you...”

Just his words alone had her clenching around his fingers, and his thumb pressed against her aching clit, rubbing in a firm circle. He wanted to see her face but he couldn’t tear his mouth from her skin, so the only warning he had was her sharp inhale, a very short silence, and then she was crying out through gritted teeth as her nails sank into his skin. He could feel her wetness around his fingers, beads of it sliding down his palm and his cock was so, so painfully hard.

As she rode the last waves of her pleasure, barely coming down, he pulled his hand away and slid his arm around her back, pulling her away from the wall. Her eyes snapping open, the next thing she knew, he’d turned them and was pushing her backwards once more. Her calves met the iron frame of the bed and she fell back, him following, her back colliding now with the soft mattress. Neither cared about the state of the bedsheets, a little musty but better than the blankets they’d had at Lakay, and their lips met instantly. It was a fierce kiss, all teeth and tongue and harsh breaths. His body covered hers and she couldn’t stop herself from focusing on his cock pressing down against her.

“I want you inside me...” she breathed against his lips before she could stop herself, rocking her hips up against him. “... I want to feel you inside me...”

And he paused. Lifting his head, he met her gaze, both their lips parted, chests rising and falling swiftly.

She thought he was going to say no or pull away, thought she’d pushed her luck... when he nodded, his thumb on her waist where her blouse had ridden up caressing gently.

“Yes,” he gravelled, then his lips were back on her but at her neck this time, biting and sucking a path down and her cry of relief was lost in her moan of delight as he licked at her nipple through her blouse and thin, cotton corset.

“Off, get it off...” she heard herself demanding breathlessly, and then his hands were pulling her blouse off, pulling it apart, actually, buttons dropping onto the mattress but she didn’t care.

Arching her back and moving her arms to help him remove it, she then kept it arched as his hands went underneath her, trying to unlace the corset.

It was nowhere near as complicated as the corset she had worn for the Mayor’s party but he still hissed out curses in frustration. Her lips twitching, she was about to tease him when he rose up on his knees, gripped her waist, and turned her over swiftly.

Exhaling a sharp breath as she suddenly found herself on her front, her hands gripping the sheets, she barely had time to react as his hand aggressively tugged at the fastenings and his other pushed her hair aside so he could mouth at her neck and shoulder. Her eyes fell shut as she hummed at the delicious sensation, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, and, with his straining cock digging into her ass, she couldn’t stop herself from rocking back against him.

He growled and swatted at her ass lightly, drawing a gasp from her.

“Can’t concentrate if you do that, woman...” he muttered into her neck and she gave a wide, breathless smirk.

“Can’t do two things at once? Poor baby...”

“You know I can, sweetheart.” 

The fastenings finally undone, he tugged the corset apart and pushed her over onto her back again. Arching an eyebrow at him, even as a flush spread across her cheeks and neck, she huffed out, “Are you going to keep throwing me around?”

A corner of his mouth rose higher than the other. “Only if you keep likin’ it. Arms above your head.”

She obeyed immediately, her teeth biting at her lower lip again to try and hide a smile, unsuccessfully, though, if his own smirk was anything to go by. He pushed the corset up and over her head, letting it drop to the floor, and then he was on her again, kissing at her jaw, throat, going down, down, down, until he was at her nipples, bare for him now and hard. He sucked and licked at one, and as she moaned, the sound low in her throat, she was about to sink her fingers into his hair when his were suddenly lacing with hers, keeping them above her head. All she could do was arch her back and roll her hips, mewls and soft curses falling from her lips as he did as he pleased, moving from one breast to the other.

She was about to curse at him, her already very intense need growing, when he released her hands and moved down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach like a starving man until he was shifting off of the bed, lowering to his knees on the floor. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her curls sliding over her shoulders, not wanting to take her eyes off of him, and watched him pull her boots off before his hands were at the waistband of her trousers, tugging them down. Ada raised her hips to help him, and even as he was still pulling them down her calves his lips were on her thighs, placing gentle, hungry kisses along them, pausing only to press a gentle, lingering one to the new, pink scar. Tossing the trousers aside once they were off, his hands curved around her knees, pulling them wider apart as his mouth moved up to her wet cunt.

She barely had time to take in a breath before he was licking and sucking at her soaking folds. Her mouth dropping open, her head tipped back and a low moan escaped her.

“Holy God...” she breathed, one of her hands moving to his hair, finally able to tangle her fingers in.

It was a little longer now, so she could easily sink them in and pull and tug, her nails gliding against his scalp. He groaned against her pussy with every tug she gave, his hands sliding over her hips, settling on her stomach. Dragging her teeth over her lower lip as hummed moans left her, she opened her eyes looked down at him, instantly meeting his gaze. He released a sound akin to a growl as their eyes locked and the flat of his tongue slid up her slit, watching her brow dip as she moaned loudly.

“Taste so fuckin’ good...” he groaned against her, and the vibration of his voice had her hips bucking, his hands on her stomach instantly pressing down.

One of them then slid up to pull and roll her nipple, and her elbow supporting her gave out as her other hand flew to his hair at his tongue circling her clit.

Her breaths were becoming shorter and sharper and she wanted to roll her hips but he wasn’t having it, his arm lying across her stomach now. He was driving her insane, his tongue dipping into her before coming back to lap at her clit and it was both perfect and not enough.

The sound she released, close to a whine, had him arching an eyebrow, and she could feel his smirk.

“Somethin’ you want, Ada?”

Her breathing hitched at both feeling his voice again, and his tone. “Come on, Arthur...”

“Oh, I don’t know what to do, sweetheart...” he rumbled as he drew his head back, his hand moving down from her nipple. “... wanna keep tastin’ you, been dreamin’ about this, but also wanna feel you come again...”

Her response, whatever it would be, even she didn’t know, died on her tongue as he slid two fingers inside her and stroked them. Crying out, her head tipped back and she pulled at his hair, pushing her hips against him.

“Oh, fuck, God, Arthur, oh, fuck...” She was almost babbling, so close, so fucking close to the edge again and and his words and fingers had only driven her there further.

He could feel her slick walls starting to flutter around him, and he groaned, kissing and sucking at her clit. “... Think I’ll be nice and make you come again...”

She breathed out a sound of relief, her gaze darting down to him as her moans became louder and higher. She tried to keep her eyes on his, but as his fingers and tongue stroked at her, only a few moments later she threw her head back and cried out, her hips rising off the bed.

“That’s it, that’s it, let me taste you...” he mumbled, scissoring his fingers slightly against her tightening walls.

She was almost pushing against his head, pushing him further against her, and he wasn’t about to complain. Lapping her up, he slid his fingers out so he could collect all of her wetness on his tongue, gliding it up her slit. When he reached her clit, her hips jerked, sensitive, and she then started to push his head away.

Chuckling lowly, he obeyed and softly kissed along her thigh as her hands fell to her sides, her eyes closed. Breathing hard, small, hummed moans left her every few moments, and when he reached her knee, he then gently lowered her legs and pushed himself up.

The sound of his boots coming off made her eyelids flutter open, and she gazed up at him, meeting his gaze. Then, a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and he was about to return it when she pushed herself up and settled her hands on his hips. Her legs widened so he was essentially standing between them, and she gazed up at him as she pressed a soft kiss above the trail of hair on his lower stomach.

A slightly hissed breath escaped him, and one of her hands slid to the open front of his trousers.

“Can I touch you?” she murmured against his skin, pressing another kiss, and he realised she was giving him the option to stop this.

And then he realised he could let her touch him now.

Because he’d said yes.

And he wanted this, wanted her.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice almost hoarse with need.

The slow smile that spread across her lips had him wanting to taste her yet again, but he restrained himself as her hand slid into his trousers and her fingers wrapped around his hard, straining cock. His eyes fell shut with a groan as she pulled him out, and she’d remembered what he’d said because her hand left him briefly and when it returned it was wet and, God, it was heaven...

His hand found the side of her neck, cupping it, and his thumb brushed against her jaw gently as she moved her hand up and down his length.

Then her tongue was on the weeping head of his cock.

Clenching his jaw tightly as she gave small, light licks, he knew he couldn’t open his eyes because he’d just come right there.

Ada gazed up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw move, feeling his fingers flex and tighten against her neck, though she didn’t mind at all. Her other hand pulled his trousers down a little further, and the feel of her nails against his thigh seemed to bring him back into the room as his eyes snapped open.

She was about to murmur something coy when he gently pushed her hands away and shoved his trousers down to the floor, kicking the garment aside.

“Lie back,” he murmured, and she did so instantly, shifting backwards and lying on the bed.

He placed a knee on the bed and leaned over her, supporting himself with a hand by her head. He was about to speak, to tell her how beautiful she looked, when her hands cupped his face and drew him down, claiming his lips in a firm kiss. His whole body lowered against her, an arm sliding under her as the other settled above her head. He could feel all of her, all of her soft skin against him, feel how wet she was against his thigh.

“Ada...” he mumbled against her lips, and she hummed in reply, hooking a leg over his hip, opening up to him.

Christ...

Breaking the kiss gently, he drew his head back and gazed down at her. Her eyes opened a moment later, and she smiled softly, slightly breathlessly.

“What is it?” she murmured as her fingers caressed his hair.

Licking his lips, his thumb above her head stroked at one of her curls. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked quietly, now giving her the opportunity to stop.

The backs of her fingers brushed against his cheek as she nodded without hesitation, her teeth grazing over her plump lower lip. “I am.”

He nodded, and lust surged within him once more because she wanted him and there was his fire in her eyes and so he kissed her fiercely.

She reacted instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she released a soft sound against his lips. Shifting between her legs slightly, his arm moved out from under her and he gripped his cock, guiding the tip to her entrance.

Fuck, feeling how wet she was...

“I ain’t gonna last long,” he mumbled, breaking the kiss and meeting her gaze. “Been some time.”

She nodded and swallowed lightly. “That’s okay.”

“It might... It’s gonna hurt a little, so I’ll go slow.”

Ada nodded again, her fingertips pressing into his shoulders. “Okay.”

He nodded, licked his dry lips, then pushed the head of his cock into her.

Oh, fuck...

Oh, Christ, he wasn’t going to last long at all.

Even with just the tip he could feel how warm and tight she was.

He had to force himself to keep his eyes open because he wanted to watch her reactions, wanted to see if he might be causing any really bad pain.

And, oh, fuck, looking at her...

She was holding his gaze, her lips parted, her skin flushed, a gentle sound coming from the back of her throat. He pushed in a little further and she winced just slightly but it was accompanied by a small moan. So he kept pushing, gently, slowly, watching her and trying not to think about how fucking good she felt.

After what felt like a thousand lifetimes, he finally sheathed himself inside her.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from closing.

Lowering his face, it pressed into the crook of her neck as he hissed out breaths through his teeth. He could feel her nails digging into his skin and he focused on that because, fuck, he wasn’t going to come yet.

Ada, in turn, was staring at the ceiling, her lips still parted, every breath leaving her almost a moan... and she was trying so hard to not move because she knew, from how damn tense he was, he was trying to do the same.

It had hurt a little, but after a few moments, after she’d adjusted, it felt... incredible. The long, hard length of him fit her perfectly, and being filled by him, being stretched... A new wave of warmth settled in her lower stomach and he must have felt it in some way because he hissed out a short breath, his hands gripping at the sheets.

How long had it been for him? she thought, her fingertips brushing against his skin in the lightest of touches.

Licking her lips as he stiffened, she then tilted her head down a fraction and brushed her lips against his skin as her hips gave the smallest of rolls.

His hand darted down and gripped her hip, but not firm enough to stop her, so she did it again, then again, then again until she was rocking up against him. She could feel each of his breaths on her skin, laboured and short.

He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be buried inside her forever, and he didn’t want to come because then it would be over and—

She moaned against his ear.

It was the softest of sounds, and it broke something inside of him.

Gritting his teeth, his hand slid from her hip to her thigh, and he held her leg in position around him. Then, he started to move his hips, drawing them back and thrusting inside her in a slow, drawn out movement.

He could feel all of her, every inch of her warm wetness, and she could feel every inch of him, her head tipping back as she cried out softly.

Each sound she made only spurred him on, making his movements quicken until he was thrusting hard and fast and she was moaning and gripping at him and he wasn’t going to last, he wasn’t going to last...

She heard him grunt something out, and it took her a moment to respond herself, one hand gripping at his hair.

“Hm?”

“... Gonna come...” came the tight reply, and it sent the most delicious of thrills through her.

He was going to withdraw, was going to spill his seed on her stomach, when her legs tightened around him, holding him against her, and he let her, all thought of consequences leaving his mind. Breathing hard into her neck, one hand gripped her thigh tightly as his other tangled in the sheets above her head, and he thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt each time, and she was so warm and wet and tight and she was moaning his name and—

Gritting his teeth, his hips drew back, then he thrust into her once more, burying himself deep within her, and his body went taut as he froze and his release finally came. 

Low, breathless groans fell from his lips as his hips jerked, and her mouth dropped open as a rush of breath escaped her, her arms tight around him, feeling him release inside her. Her slick walls fluttered around him in response and it just prolonged his heaven-sent pleasure, and he couldn’t think, all he could do was feel, his mind blank.

He didn’t know how long he lay there on top of her, still, his face pressed against her neck, softening cock buried inside her, exhaling harsh, short breaths. It took him a little while to realise her finger tips were gently stroking against his back, and it wasn’t until she shifted just slightly that he realised he must be crushing her, and so he lifted his head and pushed himself up with a mumbled, “Shit, sorry...”

She was smiling, though, as he met her gaze, the most tender of smiles he’d ever seen. Exhaling another breath, a smile pulled at his own lips and he cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin.

He bowed his head and claimed that smile, kissing her softly. Her hand settled on the back of his head as she returned the kiss with a quiet hum.

“Sorry, it’ll be better next time...” he murmured when the kiss broke, still a little breathless.

“That wasn’t good?” she answered, arching an eyebrow as her smile returned.

“No, no, I mean for you, it’ll be better—”

Her kiss silenced him, her arms wrapping around his neck and drawing him back down against her. He gave in, an arm sliding underneath her and holding her tight against him.

“Shut up, Arthur Morgan,” she murmured against his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied just as quietly, his lips brushing over hers.

Her smile was there again when he drew his head back. “... Next time, did you say?”

“In-satiable...”

She laughed as he pushed himself up with a shake of his head, the sound drawing off with a slight hiss and a wince as he slowly pulled out of her. Licking her lips, her hands went to her stomach as he moved off of her and settled on his back with a contented sigh. Then, before she knew it, his arm was going around her and pulling her against him. Turning on her side, one of her legs draped over his as she curled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Gazing up at him, she found his eyes had closed, but his fingers traced light and lazy patterns on her arm. A soft smile danced across her lips... but something had resurfaced in her mind; a question that had been playing on her mind since he’d left.

“Arthur...?”

“Mmh...” His eyes remained closed for a moment longer before he looked down at her, arching an eyebrow.

Licking her lips again, she took a slight breath. “... Why were you so reluctant to do this with me?”

His gaze held hers, his jaw moving just slightly. “I ain’t... I ain’t been with someone in some time.”

“So... you were nervous?” she asked gently, her hand resting on his chest.

“No, I, well, a little, but it weren’t about that, I...” He cleared his throat after a moment as he sat up carefully, giving her room to shift from under his arm, and he leaned back against the headboard.

She stayed silent, watching him as she leaned up onto her elbow.

He looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumb across one and cleared his throat again before looking up at her. “Ada, I... There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you for a while. I’m sorry I ain’t said it sooner, but... I had a kid.”

Her lips parted as her eyebrows rose. “What?”

He took a breath, his mouth moving slightly. “... Years ago, when I was younger, there was a woman called Eliza, and we... we liked each other a lot and slept together and... And Isaac came along. I couldn’t stay with ‘em, not with this life, but I sent money and would visit whenever I could.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “He was a good kid. And, then, ah...” The smile vanished as soon as it had come. “... Then I went to visit one time and when I got there... house was empty, two graves outside. They’d been robbed and shot. It was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through in my life and I just stopped... feelin’. Hardened me.” He glanced up at her. “I think you can understand that.”

A corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes shining.

He swallowed, exhaled a breath. “Then I met Mary and I started to feel again, but, it weren’t righ’. That’s why it was so hard for me to really let her go. I thought she was my only chance at somethin’ really good.” He looked at her again. “I ended it with her, you know. Called it all to an end when I went and saw her that day.”

“You did?” she said quietly, her chest tightening slightly.

“Yeah. Was time for one of us to do it. I didn’t love her that way anymore, either, I need you to know that.”

She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t need to tell her, but he preempted it and raised his hand slightly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Wait a second, let me finish... I hadn’t really loved her for some time, not properly. I’ll always be fond of her, she was an important part of my life but, I didn’t, I don’t think I ever did, actually, love her.” He paused, then murmured the second thing he had absolute faith in. “... I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like I love you.”

Her heart stopped. 

Gazing at him, her lips parted, she could feel tears starting to prick at her eyes again. “... You love me?”

“Yeah.” A corner of his mouth twisted up. “Done what I can to stop it, but... it’s just as stubborn as you are.”

Her eyes shining again, she pressed her lips together to stop her lower one from trembling. Swallowing hard, after a few moments, moments that seemed like an eternity to him, she nodded and smiled softly.

“Well... I love you, too, Arthur Morgan.”

His eyebrows lifted, his chest tightening slightly. “You do?”

She nodded, a tear dripping down her cheek as she blinked, her smile lingering. “Yeah. Tried to stop it, too, but... just keeps following me around, wherever I go, like you.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound of it slightly thick from the emotion settling in his throat. “Well... that’s good, then.”

“Yeah.”

After a moment, she sniffed then pushed herself up and moved towards him, and he leaned towards her and his hands cupped her face as hers settled on his chest and they kissed, lingering and tender.

I love you.

When he finally released her, her head settled on his shoulder and his arms went around her, fingers lightly stroking her skin.

They lay in silence, allowing their words to linger in the air.

Her eyes were closed, a smile on her lips, her heart beating a little faster.

I love you.

It had felt like the most natural thing in the world to say. No ceremony, no floods of tears, no hesitation, just saying it and meaning it.

I love you.

She felt him shift slightly, adjusting his shoulders against the headboard. Whatever was going to happen tomorrow, the day after, the rest of her life, she was going to be with him, loved and safe, and she was going to do anything to keep it that way.

She had a hundred questions to ask, about Isaac, about Eliza, about his life back then but... They could wait. Despite the years that stretched between now and those events, she could sense there was a rawness still there, a grief that hadn’t ended, and she could understand it all too well.

“Mmh, anythin’ happen with the O’Driscoll camp, by the way?” he murmured after a few more quiet minutes.

“Oh, yeah...” She shifted a little, her eyes remaining closed. “Rounded a few up, asked them about Thomas and they all went quiet, so I think they knew something.”

“Righ’.”

She inhaled a breath, her eyebrows rising a little. “But maybe not, they didn’t seem particularly bright. One lit a stick of dynamite and threw it without even looking, it exploded near me and his friends.”

“There was an explosion?!” He looked down at her as his hands stilled, staring. “Jesus, woman, can you prioritise the things you tell me and when?”

Her lips twitched as her gaze slid up to him. “Well, there was an ambush t—”

“Ambush?!”

“Well, the explosion came from the ambush—”

“God damn it, woman, you are just...” He exhaled a heavy breath as he shook his head. “... Are you okay?”

She smiled, almost in amusement. “I’m fine, Arthur.” The smile faded after a few moments, though, and he knew something else was on her mind.

Licking her lips, she curled up against him. “I heard one of the men say that Colm’s been looking for me. I just don’t know why. I can’t work out if it’s just a game for him or whether there’s an actual reason.”

Arthur had resumed stroking her skin gently, soothingly, and he released a low hum. “Well, he ain’t got you yet, though, and I won’t let him.”

Her lips twitched faintly as she arched an eyebrow. “You’ll have to get in line because I won’t let him either.”

“I would gladly get behind you...”

She laughed softly as his lips went to her forehead and cheeks, kissing sloppily.

“Stop it, my heart’s only just calmed down.”

"You sure? Lemme just check that you’re really okay...”

She laughed louder as her arms went around him as he shifted them so she lay underneath him, and he kissed and caressed every inch of her body, except where she wanted him the most.

“Insatiable, Mr Morgan...” she murmured with a breathless smile as his nose brushed against her stomach, and he pressed a kiss there, his lips trailing down.

—

He dozed off afterwards and she let him, knowing she should probably get some sleep, too, but it hadn’t come. She could barely close her eyes without wanting to scream with joy.

He loved her. She was loved, for all that she was, good and bad.

She would never be able to convey how happy she was.

Tonight had been the last barrier. The act and their words had told her he was hers and she was his, for all that they were, mind, body and soul. 

On her side, her hand tucked under her chin, she gazed at him, her eyes tracing the lines of his nose, his mouth, his eyelashes, the hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck, the sparse, light freckles on his skin, the—

He shifted as he inhaled a slow breath. Her eyes moving back up, they met his.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice a little hoarse.

“Hey,” she whispered, a soft smile lifting her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder.

Rubbing at his face with a hand, he then arched an eyebrow as it dropped to his chest. “How long you been starin’ at me?”

Her smile widened. “Hours.”

He snorted. “I don’t sleep hours. You should sleep, though.”

“I will.”

He gazed at her as she didn’t move, just looking at him, her smile lingering.

She had to say it. Had to make sure it was still real.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan,” she murmured softly.

His features softened instantly, his arm sliding around her. “I love you, too, Ada.”

Lifting her chin, her lips met his in a tender kiss.

It was still real.

—

He awoke in the morning, after a peaceful, unbroken sleep, to find her head on his chest, her fingers tracing light patterns, her stomach rumbling, and aching and sore in the best way.

“I’ll cook us that meal,” he mumbled against her lips once he’d finally found the strength to stop kissing her.

She hummed and rolled onto her back as he pushed himself up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Watching him run a hand through his hair, she played with her ring, twisting it around and around, because as blissful as last night was, every second of it... the light of the morning sun brought with it an unspoken question that hung in the air.

He cleared his throat, his elbows on his knees. After a few moments, he then looked to her.

“We have to go back.” The words were quiet, expected, and she nodded.

“I know.”

Watching him dress, she didn’t allow herself to feel resigned, hopeless or afraid.

They would go back, and she would plan a way for them to leave this life behind.

—

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