#1. Fandomization of everything is a curse

[le-panda-chocovore]

I think the reason for all that discourse in the JJK fandom is that we had some expectations about what this story would be about, and we were wrong. I'd say it was our fault for having them, because Gege had his own story in mind and it isn't our role to tell him what to write/draw. But I'd also say that we were misled into having those expectations and then being deceived, because shock value is fun.

(I'm not in the AOT fandom so maybe I'm 100% wrong, in which case don't pay attention to me. I'm just rambling I'm not trying to make a point)

See there's not such a thing in Attack On Titans. I mean I know people are arguing whether a decision was good or bad or a character development was positive or negative, but no one is rioting the way JJK readers are even when someone dies, kills, or does worse (they do start a genocide lol). Because in AOT you know since the beginning what this story is about : surviving, war, and liberty. With time you learn that it's also about racism, destiny and injustice. But the story starts with death and blood and it never calms down, characters keep dying or getting hurt and no one's safe all along the story. So you just know it'd end the same way, you know what to expect, that power of friendship won't save anyone here.

But Jujutsu Kaisen is different, because it has all the codes of a basic Shonen. Everyone was comparing it to Naruto during the 1st season so you would believe it'd follow the same path. Of course there's fights and fails and suffering and death, because it's necessary for the growth of the protagonist. He'd learn he's not strong enough and he'd try harder and mature more and be better. Jujutsu Kaisen makes you think it's your One Piece-type manga where 1 person dies every 4 arcs and the main team survives everything, even when it looks impossible.

And then Shibuya happens and you're shocked because it's way to early to kill so many valuable characters in a row. Usually that kind of massacre happens during Big War arcs like in MHA. At first you think it's an interesting writing choice because it changes from other mangas, and you wonder how the main character will evolve from that. But then the training arc never happens, because shit keeps falling on them and there's a pile of deads and you start to wonder when it'd stop. Spoilers : it doesn't.

So at some point you realize it. This isn't a classical shonen. This isn't an happy-ending after a hard fight kind of story. There's no power of friendship to save them, there's no important moral path to keep following no matter what (like "I won't do to you what you did to me because it'd mean that I'm the same" no it doesn't work here), and there's not even a chance to run away from that cursed role no one wants to bear. There's no one protecting the kids anymore. The MC isn't strong enough and the mentors are dead and close friends are off-fight and the one person able to end this has to make the horrendous choice to give up his humanity.

In AOT, you were shocked, but it felt logical in the sense of where the story was leading you from the beginning. In JJK, you feel betrayed and manipulated because everything made you think about those other mangas where people ended up fine, but it was just a cover.

Honestly you COULD have guessed it'd end that way. Many people did. You just ignored it.

You thought Junpei's death was an exception, the Major Point for Yuuji's development, the Shock Value Kill to put some depth nuance in the story. But in reality it was a warning, a taste of the future. There WERE signs after all, and Gege never pretended to write another Naruto. You were so used to the classical shonen that you read the signs and fell for the trick.

JJK has never been a nice story from the beginning, Sukuna was at the center of every event since the beginning. You can dislike what is happening but you cannot say it's bad, as in a scenaristic choice. Gege is a writing genius and unfortunately he's also pure evil.

You shouldn't have trusted a one-eyed cat after all.

[luffysinterlude]

REMEMBER WHEN. . .

★ summary: the straw hat pirates reminisce on some fun memories while voyaging through the Grand Line.

★ warnings: chatroom au/comedic relief, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, takes place after water seven/pre thriller bark, ooc characters, use of yn + female reader in mind, flirty!yn + the crew teases yn a bit ><, zoro x reader…kinda..im biased im sorry 😞 + some things are NOT canon and i just made it up :p

★ an: hiii!! there is not enough one piece fanfic content on this app in my opinion (i feel like i’ve read almost every piece, all have been amazing), so here’s my attempt at making more!! also, i’m still pretty new to the op fandom, so some characters may be a little ooc. i’m still reading/watching thriller bark so pls bare with me! also this is a chatroom au because i don’t have access to social app anymore *cry*. anyway, please enjoy!

NOW ONLINE [9]. . .

yn: SIGHHHHHHHHHH

robin: is everything okay, yn?

chopper: yeah yn, is everything okay?

zoro: probably not

yn: just thinking

usopp: thinking about where we’ll be next? praying manifesting it isnt anywhere scary

chopper: everywhere we’ve been has been terrifying

nami: yeah usopp

nami: its like we goto hell, leave it, and then enter another part of it

nami: i think we should just start expecting the worst

zoro: maybe we should all just get a lil more stronger. starting with the blonde pervert we have as our cook

sanji: I DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING YET

sanji: AND YOURE THE ONE TO TALK!

sanji: MUST I REMIND YOU THAT I LITERALLLLY JUST SAVED YOU AND USOPP AT THAT TOWER

luffy: oooooo thinking about what? tell me tell me tell me!

sanji: now, my dearest yn, please let me know if theres anyway i can assist you

zoro: she probably doesn’t want your help lmfao no offense

sanji: WHOOOO was even talking to you? I SAID YN’S NAME IN THE TEXT DAMMIT

nami: can you two idiots cut it out already? its like, i can hear your voices through my screen and i don’t like that

franky: yeah it’s actually kinda crazy i can hear you all…without actually being in your presence

chopper: soooo yn?

luffy: yeah yn what’s going on?

yn: just sitting here thinking about all of our fun adventures. like wow we actually did all of that and it was like…real life

yn: i feel like if i didnt know you guys and didn’t experience it then it wouldn’t sound real

yn: but like wow it was all real

robin: we’ve had some wild times, haven’t we?

luffy: LOL yeah that might’ve been on me

luffy: but we’ve survived this long

luffy: we’ll continue to survive because fate loves us!

nami: -.-

sanji: luffy’s right, surprisingly

sanji: sometimes i think about how fate brought us together…or atleast i think about how fate brought me nami yn and robin together

yn: watch it pretty boy

sanji: YES MA’AM

sanji: screenshotting

zoro: ignoring that dude. i think it’s amazing how we prevail every time. we get stronger without realizing

yn: i mean we did fly into the sky

yn: thats so crazy we actually like. flew. in the air. on a ship.

nami: yeah all thanks to me ;*

yn: thank u pretty i remember falling in love with you then and there

franky: WHAT THE HELL

franky: YOU GUYS FLEW IN THE AIR WITH MERRY?!

usopp: HELL YEAH MERRY FLEWWW

usopp: FRANKY YOU SHOULDVE SEEN IT

usopp: there was this gigantic whirlpool below us and everything

chopper: haha yeah that was crazy! and those giant monkeys

robin: oh! yes, the saruyama alliance. i could never forget the amount of fun i had during our time on Jaya Island

yn: robin i love u but FUNNNNNN???-?-?-!-? DID WE FORGET ABOUT THAT STUPID FOREST CRICKET HAD US GO INTO?!1? i still have nightmares of that stupid south bird and its stupid face and the way it made all those stupid bugs chase me

luffy: haha those south birds were really something else

nami: it’s funny because we had no idea what was coming next

zoro: that stupid “God” was next. what was his name again? emily? enemy….?

zoro: well shit i’ve forgot. it was somethin else though. his stupid lightning

franky: BROTHER WHAT

franky: YOU GUYS FOUGHT….A GOD?!?!1???!!!?

franky: was it like….you know…..THE GOD

chopper: not really sure what you mean but that guy enel really had some sort of crazy insane powers

chopper: him and his crazy insane priests were able to predict our moves!

robin: oh yeah. he electrocuted zoro, yn, and i.

yn: pls dont remind me TT

yn: he scares me because i feel like he somehow is still alive

yn: like what if hes reading our messages

nami: i never thought of it like that…

nami: enel if ur reading this please drop 1,000,000,000 berries down from the sky

luffy: i wish the skypeians and shandians rang the bell more often.

luffy: haha oh well! i know they’re doing just fine! :D

usopp: well thanks to yn now i’m reminscing TT

usopp: it feels like alabasta JUST happened

robin: well, we did just face the world government

robin: technically crocodile was apart of it

usopp: YEAH AND YOU WERE HIS ASSISTANT OR WHATEVER

robin: that’s the past. i had to do what i needed to do to survive. and i’m glad i was, considering i was able to find you all <3

yn: ROBINNNNNNN TT

nami: ROBINNNNN

sanji: robin i wouldve followed you to hades’ kingdom if i had to. i will always protect you (and nami and yn. the others can fend for themselves).

luffy: hahahaha i agree!! see, fate loves us

chopper: WE LOVE U ROBIN

franky: YEAH! WE LOVE SISTER ROBIN!

zoro: appreciate ya.

usopp: YEAAAA WE LOVE ROBIN!

yn: shoutout to us

yn: i love us

yn: i love being a strawhat

chopper: same!!! forever and always gonna be a strawhat!!

luffy: i love our little family!

luffy: without you all, i wouldn’t be as close as i am to reaching my dream! so thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

luffy: also sanji when is dinner gonna be ready so i know when to head back to the sunny

nami: same

nami: now i’m really reminiscing. do you guys remember when yn thought she was pregnant

usopp: i-

usopp: …

yn: NAMI

yn: alright well.

sanji: WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TT

sanji: also luffy dinner will be ready when its dinner time. its mid day. if you’re hungry i have snacks in the fridge or since you’re running around this island, find a food stand

sanji: BUT WHATTTTTT DID NAMI JUST SAY

chopper: HUUUUUUUUUUUUH

robin: what a naughty girl you are, nami. teasing yn about her “almost” pregnancy

nami: yk me! but i remember being soooooo worried only for the pregnancy test to come back negative

zoro: yn?

franky: LITTLE SIS YN…DOES THE DEED….BUT SHE LOOKS SO INNOCENT

luffy: oh wow cool sanji thanks!

luffy: also congrats yn? but where will the baby stay?

usopp: did you even read nami’s text

luffy: oh..right LOL that’s good! i can’t imagine yn having a baby. plus how are babies even made

chopper: :o

nami: …

robin: your innocence is apart of my will to live

yn: luffy TT

sanji: THROUGH LOVE! BABIES ARE MADE THROUGH LOVE!!!

luffy: oh sickkkkkk do you guys think we can make one?

yn: oh luffy TT

nami: well!

sanji: he’ll come around

luffy: LOL BRB

LUFFY has gone offline.

chopper: wonder what he’s up to

yn: probably found food like sanji told him to

zoro: yeah he kind of left the store we’re at and i have no desire to look for him right now

zoro: oh nevermind. he just went outside to buy meat from a vendor. he’s good, still in my eyesight

chopper: also

chopper: YN WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME

yn: chopper >< you were still fairly new to the crew then

yn: but this happened after we left chopper’s hometown

yn: i think i was just sick because of the crazy weather changes, plus nami has just recovered and didn’t want anyone to be worried sick :p

zoro: why didnt you tell me?

zoro: you’re apart of the crew too, ya know.

usopp: interesting

sanji: you stupid ass MOSSHEAD WHY WOULD SHE TELL YOU HER BUSINESS

nami: sigh

nami: its like the most obvious thing ever

robin: i’m afraid it just isn’t clicking for him.

yn: it’s not like i didn’t wanna tell you

zoro: okay so why didn’t you

sanji: WATCH HOW YOU SPEAK TO HER DUMBASS!

yn: LMFAOOO I REMEMBER WHY I DIDNT TELL YOU

yn: YOU GOT LOST AS SOON AS WE GOT TO ALABASTA

yn: and by time i found you, i had already forgotten that i thought i was pregnant because there was a whole warlord wanting us dead so

zoro: hmm. okay. well next time..

sanji: YOU DIDNT HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO HIM YN YOURE BETTER THAN HIM IN EVERY WAY

zoro: if you ever need a safe space. you know.

yn: hehe yes i do. but i apologize for not telling you as soon as i felt…different. it’s just that we’ll always have bigger issues to worry about

franky: ummmm are we interrupting something

zoro: hm

zoro: nah. yn and i will talk later when we see each other.

zoro: for now i’m thinkin about that time luffy and i got beat up on jaya island. now i’m annoyed.

zoro: the principle of the matter was good but i really just had to sit there and take an ass beating when i could’ve handled the entire bar

zoro: ehhhh now i’m gonna go workout. if anyone needs me you know where to find me.

ZORO has gone offline.

yn: he left saying “you know where to find me” as if we’ll actually know

robin: i really hope he finds his way back to the sunny.

sanji: he can get lost for all i care

yn: it’s crazy that i really thought i was pregnant that one time

yn: even vivi thought so

nami: i was super worried

nami: so worried i was reading every book we had to find anything i could help you with

usopp: well i’m offended cause why didn’t you tell me i thought we were besties

yn: wellllllllll no offense but full offense, you have “i-can’t-seem-to-keep-my-mouth-shut” disease

yn: just yappin all day everyday

franky: so, sister yn, zoro huh?

sanji: DONT OFFEND HER LIKE THAT YOU IDIOT!

usopp: HEYYYYY!!!!! I WOULDVE KEPT A SECRET

sanji: yn my loveeeeee you know you could always tell me your secrets

yn: i cant lie i almost let it slip when i helped you with dinner that night

yn: but again, bigger fish to fry

sanji: screenshotted again

sanji: did you guys see that? shes flirting with me. might die

robin: hm not sure what part of that was flirting but whatever makes you happy.

nami: oooo franky’s quick

franky: it isn’t hard to tell

chopper: what’re you all talking about!!?

yn: nothing important you little cute doctor

chopper: >~< SHUT UP! >~< THAT DOESNT WORK ON ME!!

sanji: robin! nami! yn!!!! i will be going offline to go back to the sunny to make some snacks. would you ladies do me the pleasure of enjoying them? should they be ready before you all arrive?

robin: please do! surprise us this time :)

yn: hell yea sanji you know i’d never say no to you

nami: lol yes please! i’m kind of craving something sweet

sanji: OFF TO THE KITCHEN I GO!! GIVE ME AN HOUR!!

SANJI has gone offline.

yn: well now that those three are gone

yn: i worry about them a lot

yn: i feel like those three find trouble every where we go

chopper: same but we’re all like, insanely strong now!

chopper: and it’s not like we’re actively looking for trouble, sometimes we just want to chill

nami: yeah. but now, more than ever, i feel more secure

nami: like wow he’s really gonna be king of the pirates

yn: most definitely. we only ever get stronger

usopp: yeaaaaaaaaaaaaa obviously i’ve had my doubts but…

usopp: it’s never been because of luffy

robin: ever since i met you guys again on alabasta…

robin: i knew you all would give me a life worth living

yn: robin’s so sweet online it makes me want to cry

yn: well shes always sweet

franky: SISTER ROBIN TT

nami: robin, i’m curious. how did you find our ship?

robin: well it was just docked and i figured i’d finally take a rest somewhere. if you all hadn’t left alabasta by time i had woken up, then i wouldn’t have stayed. like luffy says, fate loves us.

franky: WHAAAAAT you just…..snuck on? O.O

chopper: oh yeah i remember!

chopper: i’m not gonna lie, i was a little intimidated by you at first

yn: OH HOW COULD I FORGETTTTTTTTT

yn: chopper wasn’t there when we first met robin!

nami: oh yeah!

yn: franky chopper omg like have i ever told the story of how i first fell in love with robin

usopp: OH YEAH she blew that guy’s ship up

usopp: i wonder how vivi’s doing

nami: VIVI TT i hope she’s okay

nami: but yeah i agree. i was scared shitless of robin but then she told me she got me treasure

franky: WOAH ROBIN BLEW SOMEONES SHIP UP?

robin: not entirely. he survived and thats what matters

franky: i mean i guess

franky: i was definitely intimidated by luffy when we first met. even though that was like three weeks ago

franky: i can’t lie he still sometimes intimidates me

yn: brother ur half machine

franky: YEAH BUT MOSTLY HUMAN!!!

franky: anyway sisters. you guys have to tell me more stories at dinner later i have to go refill the coke tanks, see ya!

FRANKY has gone offline.

usopp: well chat

usopp: i usually help him so i’ll be going back too

usopp: yn i’m expecting way more details later after dinner

usopp: or zoro. but preferably before you see zoro

chopper: i’ll help! girls if you need me for anything i’ll be with those two!!

yn: um…okay…? we’ll see u all later!!!

USOPP has gone offline.

CHOPPER has gone offline.

nami: and now it’s just us three

nami: sorry for bringing your pregnancy scare up

nami: i’m getting my nails done right now and i can’t really seem to remember our journeys

yn: its all good

yn: i kinda forgot about it

robin: we’ve been through so much our brains probably started to black out any unwanted memories. i’ve read that it happens

robin: and yn, i don’t blame you. i would’ve been worried sick if i was apart of the crew then. but since it’s just us…

yn: omg let us catch you up

yn: so basically..i had…with…and then…

nami: —.—

nami: she had sex with someone *cough* zoro *cough* and started puking the next morning

yn: NAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

yn: TT

nami: i definitely thought it was pregnancy

robin: silly girls. you do realize pregnancy symptoms don’t happen overnight, right?

robin: also, yn. it’s obvious. i’ve seen the way you two are always the first ones missing during our celebrations

nami: well……..yeah but

nami: we can never be TOO safe

yn: mmm if you hadn’t caught on by now then i’d be surprised

yn: i was still scared

yn: i think it was more of a “wow me and zoro actually did that and it was real”

nami: it’s just….in a forest?!-?

nami: with…HIM!!!-?-?-?-??

nami: you can have any man or woman or creature you want and you stillllllllll………….

yn: i was running on adrenaline. that dude and his stupid ass candle wax drove me insane

yn: plus you both know i kinda have a little crush on the guy

yn: i can fix him

nami: okayyyyyy whatever you say.

nami: pfttt “little” and you guys are basically dating in my head

robin: i forgot his actual name but i’m assuming you guys are talking about mr. 3

robin: ah yes his wax is quite the problem. i wonder if hes alive still

nami: i was seriously stressed out

nami: but honestly, since we’re on the topic, i’m glad i joined luffy

nami: there was this one time, yn i’m sure you remember

nami: right before going to the baratie

yn: the day we went to the baratie TT

yn: but what happened before i kinda forgot

nami: WHY’RE YOU ALWAYS FORGETTING THINGS

nami: anyway when we ran into your crazy psycho ex

yn: OMG

yn: AND HE THREATENED LUFFY

yn: AND THEN LUFFY THREW HIM INTO THE OCEAN TT

robin: oh? tell me more about this ex of yours. i’m interested

yn: he kinda followed us after luffy saved me from HIM

yn: um so basically..you know my devil fruit powers…yeah he held them over my head and threatened to tell the marines about me and

nami: it was chaos. but it was the first time i’ve seen yn in combat and it was mind blowing

robin: luffy being our life saver and our little brother

robin: what would we do without him

yn: you’re right

yn: but i think at this point, we’re all strong enough to handle our own. if i ever see my ex again i’ll beat him so bad

nami: yeah me too! cause he had the crazy audacity to ask me out after i found out what he did to you!

nami: either way, i’m just happy we’re still all together. you know since we’ve been throwing the word fate around, i’m really starting to believe it. luffy has a really good sense of knowing who should join our crew

yn: he does :’)

yn: he gave me a family

robin: well we should probably go check on the boys now. i’ll meet you all at the sunny <3

robin: come back safely.

nami: yeah!! you too robin! yn, bring us some goodies! i’ll see you both later!!

yn: I LOVE YOU GUYS BE SAFE ILL SEE YOU SOON

yn: can’t wait to see u guys again

nami: ….you saw us this morning.

ROBIN has gone offline.

NAMI has gone offline.

YN has gone offline.

CHATROOM IS NOW CLOSED [0].

NOW ONLINE [1]. . .

LUFFY is now online.

luffy: HEY GUYSSSSSSS

luffy: IM BACK

luffy: i ate some meat and came back to the shop we were at but zoro isnt here anymore so i’m wondering if you guys happen to know where he is!

luffy: ….

luffy: oh the chatroom closed

luffy: well i guess i better get back to the sunny!

luffy: hopefully my friends make it back safely! we still have more adventures to take care of

luffy: wow these things are so cool i’m just talking to myself

luffy: i wonder if i can get one on the sunny…

luffy: OH WELL

LUFFY has gone offline.

CHATROOM IS NOW CLOSED [0].

★ an [2]: ahhh!! my first work is now done ☺️ honestly this was all self indulgent because i’ve been going through some personal things and right now the strawhats are my comfort zone. i decided to make it like a big groupchat because i don’t really have any friends irl or online so this makes me feel a lil better ☺️! i hope you all enjoyed.

its a lil messy because when i first started this i was about to began Thriller Bark but as I’m typing this I’m currently on the Sabaody Archipelago arc and things are getting more exciting like omg hello mr. Trafalgar Law I’ve been waiting for your debut….

if you enjoyed this please like and reblog! maybe i’ll start writing more drabbles idk. it used to be my thing when i was still using @/krazykento and jjk used to be my comfort zone. also, if you want to be friends please don’t be shy to say anything! i’d love to make new friends!!

[pauein]

Not to ramble on main (Just kidding i will not be stopped) but. Anyone else ever get the Fear irt branching off into making more Mature:tm: content? Like... OK maybe its just the crumbling state of media analysis on the internet right now (....+ The fact that most of the followers on my art account are from. Uh. Teh kirby fandom DHDBDJDHDBF NO OFFENSE TO KIRBY FANS its just. Very different target audience) but i always just get very worried about people completely misreading my intent in darker works or being frustrated and considering it Bad writing if things.. Dont work out well for the characters

DONT THINK THIS POST WILL GAIN TRACTION BUT JIC IT DOES THIS IS NOT FOR PR/SH/PPERS. FUCK OFF

[aria0fgold]

The more I think about Soleil stuff, the more it really feels like I'm testing the limits of isat's universe but fuck it we ball.

[cowboy-robooty]

do you like komahina

yes

[samcarter34]

Since people seem to once again be having trouble remembering the order of operations, let me just remind everyone:

The ability Laudna possesses to feed Delilah is Hunger of the Shadow. In the fight with Bor’dor, Laudna used that BEFORE Orym’s head nod. Bor’dor attacked them and her response was to do the thing she knew would give power to Delilah. Matt even makes the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat.

The spell she used after the head nod? Whither and Bloom. The same spell she later attacked Orym with, which isn’t even a warlock spell.

And speaking of the head nod, you want to know what’s it’s prefaced with? ‘Laudna you can do whatever you want.’ And Marisha responds by saying that Laudna is ‘barely present’ because she’s having ptsd flashbacks to all of the times something horrible happened to her and she couldn’t do anything about it. So she kills Bor’dor because it makes her feel in control of the situation.

And yeah, the 4SD where Liam says Orym thought Delilah might come back. Except y’all somehow took that and made it seem like he’s the one who shoved Laudna over the edge when what actually happened is that Laudna flung herself off it because betrayal is triggering to her.

And the sword. The sword which apparently wasn’t triggering enough that Imogen contemplating whether the Vanguard were good guys didn’t cause any reaction. Or for that matter, make her object to Ashton’s ‘this is permission statement.’ But she saw Orym wearing it, got uncomfortable and then all it took was one sentence from Delilah for her to decide to steal it. Delilah, who mutilated her, murdered her, has been possessing her for decades, and who basically held her soul hostage when BH wanted VM to resurrect Laudna. But what Delilah didn’t do? Tell Laudna to steal the sword.

I wasn’t around for campaign 1, but in campaign 2 I definitely noticed a trend that people who were all ‘I love women! Female characters rock!’ would, the second one of their alleged faves did something controversial (or just something they didn’t like) would find a way to shift the onus onto someone else so she could remain blameless. And that is definitely continuing this campaign, and if anything is getting worse (which, not to get into speculation, but I wonder if it’s because all of the female characters this go round are more traditionally feminine than last campaign.)

I think the reason Orym’s been getting raked across the coals so hard by certain parts of the fandom is actually because of this. Because Imogen’s repeatedly gone ‘what if the Vanguard have a point’ and Laudna agrees with everything she says, whereas Orym’s been pretty consistently ‘no, the murder cult that murdered my family are bad guys.’ And well, can’t go around admitting that our faves did something wrong.’

And so we have a situation where Laudna attacks Orym, but somehow that’s Orym’s fault because the possibility of Laudna doing something wrong ruins people’s lesbian cottegecore fantasy. But the thing is, that whole thing was all Laudna. She chose to listen to her first murderer when Delilah said ‘maybe it’s cursed’ and then she chose to blanket the room in magical darkness (sorcerer ability, not warlock) chose to cast an area of effect spell to destroy the thing Orym was using to sheath the sword (sorcerer spell, not warlock) and, upon hurting Orym, chose not to drop said darkness, which meant Orym couldn’t see who attacked him. And when she got caught, she tried to downplay what she did, tried to say that because she didn’t mean to hurt him it didn’t count, refused to apologize for actually hurting him, kept shifting her argument (and even low key got called out on it by Imogen when she asked Laudna why she’s want its power inside her if she thinks it’s so evil.)

There is an alternate universe where Laudna wakes Orym up and they have what probably would have been an intense discussion about the sword (and that might even have been what Marisha was aiming for before Delilah got involved) and THAT truly would have been the ‘both sides are equally right’ scenario, but that’s not what we got. And you can say Orym shouldn’t have taken the sword unilaterally (but somehow Laudna’s allowed to unilaterally steal and absorb it?) or that she’s being manipulated by Delilah, but the fact is that Laudna’s an adult and is responsible for her own decisions. Yes, Delilah is a powerful and malign presence that they all downplayed/ignored, but, to use Marisha’s addiction metaphor, making amends with those you’ve harmed is a part of recovery for a reason. Because ultimately, you are the one who did that. Yes, it does immensely suck for Laudna that she’s been handed the cards she has been, but it’s up to her to make the best play she can.

Wow this got long, but my overall point is that Laudna is a character with her own agency and makes her own decisions (well, Marisha makes them, but at this point y’all should know she’s not conflict averse and is willing to have her characters make controversial character choices). And really, take all that away, what’s left? How much onus can you take from a character before you might as well go look at a painting?

[cantstoptheimagines]

Hunger (Carmy Berzatto | The Bear)

Summary — Things boil over between you and Carmy.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Smut (including a lowkey ‘Chef’ kink, Reader being referred to as ‘good girl’, also like one mention of birth control); Carmy mentions never having a girlfriend, so I’m rolling with that (aka Never-Been-Kissed!Virgin!Carmy is upon us!!); a little bit of angst on the side; mentions of childhood trauma and resulting body insecurities (Carmy); cursing (especially the canon-typical ‘Fuck!’); coworkers to lovers with a touch of idiots in love; some typical Original Beef arguments in the kitchen (including Carmy getting put in his place after being extremely mean); Reader accidentally gets burned by hot food; Reader is a waitress with an attitude; my attempts at casual, non-flowery, awkward, quiet conversation between Carmy and the Reader, so please don’t come after me if it sucks, lmao.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 7,942. This is a slow, slow, slow burn! Enjoy it, baby! ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is slightly inspired by the chaos of Season 1, Episode 7. I also want to add that this draft was started before the release of Season 2, so absolutely no spoilers in this one!

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Everything was a complete mess. An expected lunch rush had sent everything and everyone at The Beef into chaos.

You had a line of customers waiting on takeout orders while others were hoping for a table to open up. Some had immediately turned around at the door after seeing the crowd.

Richie stood behind the counter, trying his best to keep up. He gave you a nod as you cleared another table. The fake, ‘customer service’ smile on your face fell as soon as you left the dining room and entered the kitchen. Angel and Manny were both instantly by your side, taking the dishes from your arms. 

Your sigh of relief, however, didn’t last long. As soon as you turned, you were met by Sydney, who shoved a dish at you, shouting, “Hands! Once that’s out, I need you to come back for a sandwich and a salad!”

You barely caught the plate, replying, “Heard!” 

The plate was warm against your hands. The food, however, was burning hot when it flew off the dish and onto your exposed skin as someone interrupted your cry of, “Corner—!”

The plate shattered once it hit the floor, covering the tile in a mess of food. Sauce dripped down your clothes and practically seared your flesh. Amidst the hectic kitchen, only Sydney seemed to notice. She stared at you with a shocked expression as tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.

“—fucking going?!”

You blinked, clutching your blistering hand. You could already feel your skin becoming overly tender. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. Nearby, Tina had paused to see what the commotion was about with concerned eyes.

In front of you stood Carmy. Out of everyone who worked at The Beef, he was the person you were closest to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole sometimes, especially when the restaurant was busy like today.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you quietly asked, “What?”

The flaring pain you were feeling made it almost impossible to focus on what anyone was saying or doing. Carmy’s words, on the other hand, were loud and clear as he took a step closer and shouted, “I asked if you can watch where you’re fucking going?!” 

Your cheeks were wet with tears, which you couldn’t stop from falling, no matter how hard you blinked. Carmy was toe-to-toe with you. He was so close that you could see the sweat on his skin and the red flush of his cheeks. His teeth were gritted as he stared at you with fiery eyes. 

“Carmy,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “don’t yell at me.”

He came even closer, shoes nearly slipping on the sauce that covered the tile. You avoided meeting his gaze as you continued holding your injured hand. Thankfully, the other one wasn’t as bad, though it still ached. 

“Why the fuck not, huh?!” he continued. “Open your damn eyes next time—!”

“Carmy, stop!” you demanded. “I’m hurting right now and you’re not helping—!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you used your fucking brain!” he snapped, taking two fingers and harshly tapping them against your temple.

You tried to take a step back, only for him to follow. You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain yourself. Sure, you were used to Carmy’s regular outbursts, but this was on a whole other level.

His nose brushed against yours with how close he was standing. Sydney reached out, placing an arm between the two of you, though it wasn’t much help. Tina was slowly coming closer. Everyone else in the kitchen had stopped working to cautiously watch the scene. Even Richie had paused service in the front to stand in the kitchen doorway, ready to step in if he needed to.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Carmy—!”

“I’ll do whatever I fucking want—!”

Richie finally spoke up, “Hey, cousin, leave ‘er alone, alright—?”

“I’m gonna fuck you up if don’t get outta my face—!”

Sydney was beginning to sweat, “Chef! Please calm down—!”

“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of my fucking kitchen—!”

SLAP!

“¡Ay, mierda!” exclaimed Tina, mouth agape as your uninjured hand suddenly struck Carmy’s cheek.

The silence that took over was almost deadly. Carmy licked his lips and clenched his jaw. His cheek was already turning bright red with your handprint. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he stared at you.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to me,” you glared, “then don’t fucking talk, Carmen! You can fuck off instead!”

Carmy kissed his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. Instead, he watched as you whipped around and stormed away from him. You were once again holding your injured hand, in which the pain was only growing worse by the second, as you disappeared around a corner without looking back.

Carmy closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t even need to look at the expressions of his coworkers’ faces to know that he had fucked up big time.

His eyes met Sydney’s as he tugged at his thick hair. She, however, only turned away and returned to calling out orders after shaking her head. Richie, meanwhile, gave him the finger before going back to the front to continue lunch service. Everyone else in the kitchen either gave him harsh glares or stares of disappointment.

“Chef!” he called out, gaining Sydney’s attention. “I’ll be back in a few!”

Sydney slowly nodded, “Heard!” 

Carmy glanced down, looking at the mess that covered the kitchen tile, along with his work shoes. Pieces of the shattered plate were spread about as well.

“I’ll clean this up when I get back,” he said, gesturing to the floor.

“Heard!” repeated Sydney, though Carmy could tell she wished he would just leave already.

“Thank you, Chef,” he muttered.

As he passed by Marcus, the usually kind pastry chef glared at him, “You’re a real mess, Berzatto.”

Carmy sighed, slowly making his way around the same corner you disappeared behind only moments ago, “Tell me about it.”

Ebra shouted after him with a bark of laughter, “We don’t have to! You’re gonna find out when you go back there!”

Carmy rolled his eyes, turning the knob on the door that led to the back lot. That was where everyone, including you, disappeared whenever they needed to be alone.

He immediately spotted you sitting on the ground with the restaurant’s first aid kit in front of you. The injury on your hand was now covered with some burn relief gel.

You barely even glanced in his direction when the door closed behind him. The air outside was rather cold and Carmy could see the chills that covered your skin.

He nervously wrapped his hands in the hem of his apron, and then cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.” 

“Whatever,” you shook your head.

He paused, unsure of what he should say next as he blinked a few times. Finally, he licked his lips and stared down at his shoes, “Are you—uh—are you okay? I mean, you’re good?”

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head with a sardonic smile as you finished wrapping your injury with some gauze, “No, Carmy, I’m not good. Fucking asshole.”

Carmy took a deep breath, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah, alright. I deserve that. You—uh—gonna go early? Home, I mean? Go home early?”

You slammed the first aid kit closed, the latch snapping into place with a click! Standing up, you shoved it into Carmy’s arms, causing him to grunt at the impact against his chest. 

“Yes,” you said, “I’m going fucking home early.” 

He groaned as you pushed past him to go back inside. He slowly trailed behind you, watching you collect your coat and keys. He grimaced at the loud SLAM! of your employee locker. He knew everyone in the kitchen secretly had their ears open, each of them trying to figure out how badly Carmy had messed things up with you.

As you tried to slip past him once more, he reached out to place an arm across your front. He remained facing the empty room of employee lockers while you were facing the kitchen, forced to endure the cautious eyes of your coworkers.

With a sigh, you finally turned your gaze to him, unsure of what to make of his actions, “What?”

“Go to the doctor, alright?” he muttered, eyes gliding over your features.

Everything was much calmer now. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have finally cleared out some of the crowd, leaving only a few stragglers. Each of them took an occasional glance at the two of you.

You bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but be fully aware of the way Carmy’s startling blue eyes suddenly dropped to focus on your mouth. And you definitely couldn’t stop your own gaze from doing the same, admiring the soft pink shade of his lips.

Maybe it was wrong to be so attracted to your boss. But when your boss was Carmy, you didn’t really care. And there were times, like now, when it felt as though he didn’t care either.

Sure, he could be a real asshole sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your eyes, more specifically.

“Yo, cousin, we’ve got—! Oh!”

Carmy finally tore his stare away from you, and said, “Just a sec, Richie.”

“Yeah,” nodded Richie, tossing his hands into the air. “Yeah, sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”

Carmy rolled his eyes before finally returning his attention to you. His stare softened and his fingers dug into the clothing that covered your hip with a gentle squeeze.

“Doctor,” he whispered, “‘kay?”

You finally muttered, “Okay, Bear.”

Carmy gave you a nod, heart pounding when he heard his nickname fall from your lips. Your hip received a few pats and a gentle rub before his arm disappeared from your path. As you walked away, he finally turned to face everyone in the kitchen, all of whom had their eyes on him.

“Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “get back to fucking work!”

At the same time, he could hear you ordering Richie, who had followed you to the front, to ‘shut his fucking mouth’.

You unlocked the back entrance of The Beef. It was way past closing time and each of your coworkers had already gone home. In fact, you had only come back to get the tips you had left behind after your argument and semi-reconciliation with Carmy.

You flicked on one set of smaller lights before making your way through the kitchen and into the front room. Richie always cashed out your tips for you before his shift over and tonight was no different. On the counter, right next to the register, you found a wad of cash and a sticky note with your name on it.

Unfortunately, you were too focused on counting out the money to notice someone appear in the doorway. That is, until they spoke, “Hey.”

You gasped in surprise, clutching at your chest in a failed attempt to stop your pounding heart, “Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!”

Carmy smiled down at his feet as he leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. He watched you shove your tips into the pocket of your heavy coat. He nodded towards your hand, and asked, “Rent due?”

You nodded back, “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”

He hummed quietly, “See a doctor?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Gave me some stuff to put on it. They said it should be good in a week or two. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” 

“Right,” he said, twisting the hem of his apron around his hands.

He watched your eyes drift to where his fingers wrapped themselves in the blue fabric. The realization that the two of you were alone, without the stress of your loud coworkers or a line of customers, overwhelmed him.

“You do that a lot, ya know,” you said, gesturing to his hands, “when you’re nervous and stuff.”

He shuffled awkwardly, shook his head, and then shrugged, “Hard not to be. We cool?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. One of Carmy’s hands rose to his lips, allowing him to anxiously bite his nails, while the other disappeared into his pocket. The soft glow coming from the back of the kitchen made him look like an angel.

A tired, fidgety, nervous wreck of an angel.

It was hard for him to breathe when you suddenly moved closer and closer until you stood mere inches away from him. He stared at your hand that untucked itself from your coat pocket. Yet, it wasn’t until you gently wrapped your fingers around his forearm, tugging his hand away from his nail-biting habit, that he knew it was over for him. 

“Carmy?”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

His mind flashed back to all the times Richie had caught him staring at you and made fun of him for doing so.

And how after Sydney had first met you, she turned to him after you had walked away and quietly asked if you were his girlfriend.

And the way Tina almost beat his ass earlier for shouting at you so viciously after everyone else had left for the night, leaving him to wallow alone in his office.

Or the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your lips while your hand gently rubbed his arm, listening closely as you whispered, “We’re cool.” 

“Good,” he muttered.

Your lips parted with a soft, shuddering gasp. Slowly, Carmy had tilted his head and began leaning in. Your grip on him tightened just as his free hand untucked itself from his pocket. His palm slid under your coat and landed on the same hip he had held earlier that day.

His nose brushed against yours. His fingers dug into you, splayed out against your clothed waist. His eyes slowly fell shut as did yours. After that, it didn’t take long before your lips met his.

You could feel the warmth of his cheeks when you placed your palms against them. You pulled him closer until you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, intertwining your fingers in his hair.

Carmy’s lips moved against yours tentatively. His other hand slowly slipped beneath your coat to caress your back. He groaned at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair.

Slowly, he pulled away, but only slightly. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and then traveled along his strong arms before finally wrapping around his waist. His apron loosened when you tugged at the strings.

Carmy felt his cheeks warm as he allowed you to remove the blue fabric from his body. He watched it fall to the floor and then made an effort to copy your movements, gently pushing your coat off your shoulders before letting it join his apron.

He sighed softly when you pressed your lips against his in a series of short, gentle kisses, “I’ve—uh—I’ve never…”

He trailed off quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed. Richie had always given him shit for being a virgin. But Carmy had gone through life without friends, let alone girlfriends.

“Carmy?”

His lip quivered when his eyes met yours again. He was surprised to find your gaze void of judgment. Instead, you gave him a small smile and gently pressed your hands into his lower back. He hummed quietly when you repeated his name.

Glancing at his lips, you murmured, “Do you want to?”

Despite the millions of thoughts running through his mind, he was still very clear, albeit quiet, with his answer, “With you? Yeah.”

You nodded silently. One of your hands gently pushed some of his thick, messy hair behind his ear. His eyes fell closed at the feeling.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“You gonna laugh at me if it was?” he asked.

You smiled at the way his cheeks flushed with red, and replied, “‘Course not. It’s like that for lots of people.”

He licked his lips, opening his eyes. His fingertips went deeper into your hips. Fuck, you were being so nice to him.

“It was,” he confessed. “That was my first kiss. I’ve never done any of it. Dates, girlfriends, none of it.”

“Okay,” you said, still allowing your fingers to trace through his hair. “You still want to?”

He paused, eyes exploring your features, “Yeah.”

“We can stop any time you want,” you said. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” 

Carmy licked his lips again, hooded eyes drifting to your mouth. Slowly, he nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and your noses brushed. He could his heart pounding in his chest, briefly wondering if you could as well as he collided his lips with yours once again. 

His fingers delved deeper into your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, tugged at his thick hair, forcing a grunt out of him. He was surprised by how much he liked the feeling. 

Pulling away, though not far enough to avoid the kisses that were now being pressed onto his jaw, Carmy quietly gasped for air, head tilting back as he asked, “Can we go to my office?”

He felt you nod against him in response. He then tugged you along in the direction of his office, biting his lip at the feeling of your mouth on his warm skin. He turned the two of you so that he could see where he was going. Not that doing so was much help since his eyes began fluttering at the feeling of a gentle bite sinking into the flesh of his neck.

One of his hands left your hip momentarily. His palm gripped at one of the metal counters in the kitchen, barely steadying himself. He was nearly tripping over his own feet, distracted by the pleasure you were already sending throughout his body. 

His hand quickly left the countertop. It found a new place on the back of your neck, but only after the two of you finally made it into his office, where he immediately pulled you into another kiss.

Slowly, your hands disappeared from his hair, opting to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently scratch his back instead. You smiled against his lips, nearly breaking the kiss, upon noticing him shiver at the feeling. He practically arched into you, both of his hands moving to your cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.

His white shirt complimented the golden chain around his neck. It was something you had seen him wear plenty of times. And for Carmy, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change just yet.

He paused when you began to slide his shirt up, obviously preparing to remove it from his body. He gently wrapped his hands around your forearms to stop you. His lips then moved away from yours. His head ducked as he cleared his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, eyes beginning to burn. “I’m—uh—It’s just—I don’t—I don’t think—! Shit, I’m sorry! Sorry! Sorry—!” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted, gently wiping away any tears that had started to make an appearance on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Carmy.” 

He sniffled, cheeks warming with embarrassment, upon having felt your hands withdraw from underneath his shirt. His breathing had quickened, along with his heartbeat.

Carmy hid his face against your neck when one of your arms wrapped around him. You softly rubbed the space between his shoulders. Your other hand gently stroked the back of his head, fingers running through his hair once more. Meanwhile, his hands had dropped to your ribs in an effort to steady himself again. 

“We can stop—”

He interrupted you within seconds, shaking his head as he finally met your eyes, “No. I don’t want to. I—uh—I’m just—my childhood wasn’t the best, ya know? Parents were always fightin’ over stupid shit. And sometimes, my dad—well, he—uh—he’d take some of it out on us—”

“Oh, Carmy,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

He continued, caressing your ribs with his thumbs, “He didn’t do it a lot, but, ya know, my back’s kinda, like, got scars and stuff.”

Pulling him closer, you nodded, still allowing him to lead the conversation, “Okay. Okay.” 

“I promise I wanna do this,” he sniffled again before taking a deep sigh, “but I wanna keep my shirt on. For now anyway. For this time.” 

You nodded again, giving him a small smile and lightly tracing the variety of small freckles on his cheeks, “Of course. Anything you want.”

Carmy hesitantly met your eyes. The startling ocean blue sent chills down your spine, especially when he muttered, “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. Instead, his hands traveled to your back and pushed you against him in a quick, unwavering motion. He groaned at the feeling of your fingertips imprinting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved against yours in yet another heated kiss, though this one was much more desperate than the others had been. 

In that moment, as your hands wandered along his clothed back, venturing to the waistband of his pants, Carmy could picture himself falling in love with you.

In the space between your kisses, gasps of air escaped your throat, “Let me make you feel good, Bear.”

Carmy nodded. His lower back gently collided with the edge of his desk. He watched as you slowly undid his pants. He groaned and his cheeks flushed red at the sight of you lowering to your knees. One of his hands shifted to grip his desk while the other raked through his hair.

Before he knew it, his pants were pooling around his ankles and his hard-on was showing prominently through his briefs. His head tilted back and his gaze met the ceiling as your fingers delved into the waistband of the fabric covering his throbbing cock.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“Carmy?” your quiet voice cut through the tension. “You still okay?”

“I’m fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Please keep going.”

Your amusement was obvious. Carmy hissed when your smiling lips met the flesh of his stomach. He slightly tugged up the hem of his shirt in order to give you more access to his briefs, trying to prepare himself for his first blowjob ever.

The hand that had been in his hair quickly entangled itself in your own. His briefs were slowly being removed with every kiss you gave his skin, your movements trailing lower and lower with every passing second. You stopped at the last possible moment, pulling away and giving a final tug at his briefs.

At last, they fell, finding their place around Carmy’s ankles, alongside his pants. He couldn’t help but watch as his cock sprang free, nearly slapping against his stomach. You eyed it for a moment, licking your lips at the sight of the dark vein on the side and the way it curved slightly to the left. 

Carmy took your pause for negativity. His thumb softly caressed your temple as he murmured, “You alright—? Oh, shit!”

He was suddenly on cloud nine. Fire burned in his chest. Both of his hands moved to tightly grip the back of your neck. One of your hands grasped onto his tense forearm while the other held his cock. Your tongue traced over the vein that you had been admiring. 

His eyes closed and his head tilted back. He could feel you smiling as you pressed a kiss against his cock’s mushroom-shaped head. Your lips trailed along his length until you reached his balls. 

“Fuck!” he groaned, mouth falling open.

The way your tongue lapped at his balls while your hand stroked his swollen length set his stomach on fire. He could feel a layer of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.

You were a fucking god. And Carmy felt ready to worship you.

Suddenly, you were at the head of his cock again, slowly taking him into your warm mouth. Carmy looked down to watch it happen and nearly came at the sight of you.

Your lips stretched around him. His hands moved to be on either side of your face, gently caressing your temples with the pads of his thumbs. Both of your palms wrapped around his bare thighs.

Carmy hissed at the feeling of his cock disappearing into your mouth as you began bobbing your head along his length. Though when he felt you fondle his balls with a sudden squeeze, he couldn’t stop an abrupt buck of his hips. 

You gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, as you pulled away, gasping for air. He wiped away the saliva that had built up at the corners of your lips, “Shit! You okay? I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that!” 

You sniffed, laughing as you brushed off the small tears that came from your eyes, “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Unsure of what to say, Carmy nodded silently. He continued tracing your temples in an effort to comfort you, trying to ignore his cock, which continued to throb between his legs. Meanwhile, you rubbed at his thighs, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Hey, hey,” he muttered, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze, “you sure you’re alright?” 

Your eyebrows rose, your fingertips dug into his flesh, and then you smiled, “I’m fine. But Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re fucking huge.” 

And in yet another wave of shyness, Carmy couldn’t stop the blush that appeared on his face. You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the space above his pelvis, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock once more. Your eyes remained on him as his lips fell open and moans escaped his chest.

“Hey?” you muttered. 

He watched as you leaned against his stomach, resting your chin atop the fabric of his shirt to stare up at him. He shivered at the way your pupils grew. They nearly overtook your irises, leaving only a sliver of their nature shade. 

“Yeah?”

Your teeth dug into your lower lip. Carmy admired the glow that had overwhelmed your skin. He shuddered when your hand tugged particularly hard at his cock.

“Can you fuck my face, Chef?” you whispered. “I want your cock down my throat ‘til I can’t breathe.” 

“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I want you to feel good, Carmy.” 

He hissed at the sudden feeling of your tongue once again tracing over his length. The head of his cock was then repeatedly kissed in a soothing pattern. One of his hands moved to tightly grip the edge of his desk. The other continued smoothing over the skin of your cheek as you took him back into your mouth.

With a hand on his thigh and the other shifting to wrap around his forearm, you slowly dragged his hand to the back of your neck. Carmy panted heavily at the feeling of his hard cock sinking deeper into your throat. He successfully held back his quivering hips, not wanting to accidentally choke you a second time. 

His fingers dug into your skin, his mouth fell open, and heat rose beneath his skin. He looked down to find you with nearly his entire cock in your mouth. The sensation of your tongue swirling around him made him want to cum on the spot. And he nearly did so when your lips finally met the base of his cock. 

Your nose dug into his pelvis. He then felt the mushroom-shaped head of his cock reach the back of your throat, only you didn’t pull away for a fresh burst of air this time. He caressed the back of your neck in an effort to ease the tension. 

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, soaking your eyelashes. You were doing your best to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightened when your eyes suddenly looked up at him.

The sight of you staring at him with tear-filled eyes and your lips stretched around his cock made him curse. Both hands quickly returned to your face so he could brush away the glistening tears. After admiring your flushed appearance, he muttered, “You ready?” 

He took the moan you let out around his length as confirmation. The vibrations of it, along with the way your fingers were now tightly grasping at the backs of his thighs in preparation, made him hiss with pleasure. 

He groaned at the wet sounds of your mouth as he began gently thrusting in and out of your throat. He cursed repeatedly, especially when you continued to moan around him. Upon seeing you shut your eyes, however, he patted your cheek to bring your focus back to him.

He smiled down at you when you met his gaze, “Eyes on me, alright? You’re makin’ me feel so—ah!—good right now. Oh, fuck! You’re fucking amazing, ya know that? Oh!” 

Heat was growing in the pit of your stomach when you realized how much pleasure you were giving him. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter by the second. 

You couldn’t help but gag around him when he suddenly gave a rough thrust. You were sure his thighs would have finger-shaped bruises by the end of the night with how strong your grip on him was. 

Carmy’s thrusts were picking up pace. He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and his mouth agape with silent moans. You wanted him to fuck your face? Then he would do exactly that. 

He repeatedly shoved you down to the base of his cock. With every thrust of his hips, he felt his balls slap against you. The sounds of you practically gasping for air as you choked on his length made him shiver with a blissful expression.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “So fucking good! You’re perfect, ya know?”

His moans continued. The echoes of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth caused warmth to slowly build up within the pit of his stomach. With a few final thrusts, he pressed himself as deep as he could into your throat.

You choked around the sudden release of cum that flooded your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as Carmy pressed you further onto his length. Your nose dug into the skin of his pelvis and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.

Carmy grunted, now gazing down at you with heavily lidded eyes, as his cock released thick, white ropes of his cum. He huffed in an effort to regain his breath. You, however, made that difficult with each and every time you swallowed around him, taking in all of his cum without a second thought. 

His cock was still hard when you finally pulled away. Your tongue ran over the tip while one of your hands moved to stroke his length. Before you could send him tumbling into overstimulation, Carmy tugged you upwards. 

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, barely able to keep hold of you between heavy pants. You could practically feel his confidence finally starting to bloom within him. 

Twirling in order to switch your positions, you tugged him closer, urging him to help you onto his messy desk. He quickly did so after reaching out to shove aside what seemed like a million unorganized papers. They fell to the floor, some even crumpling beneath his shoes as he stepped on them. 

His large, tattooed hands slipped beneath your shirt as he moaned at the feeling of your lips against his neck. He grasped onto the back of your bra and tugged... to no avail. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice. 

His face flushed red, especially when your clothed thighs squeezed closer to his hips. His cock began to throb as it met the covered space between your legs, desperate and eager for what was to come. 

Carmy furrowed his eyebrows and tried a second time to unclasp your bra. When it refused to budge, he couldn’t help but curse. And he nearly let out another when your affections came to a pause. 

Your kisses slowed. Pressing one against his ear, you whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. 

You tried not to laugh when you felt another tug, “Carm? D’you need help?” 

He cursed a little louder. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to conceal a grin as you tucked your face into the crevice of his shoulder. When he confirmed your suspicions, you leaned away and did your best to give him a warm, comforting smile. You unhooked your bra and removed it from beneath your shirt with ease, tossing it aside. 

Carmy’s expression shifted into one of frustration, though his eyes shined with a bit of awe, “How the fuck did you do that?” 

Your hands ran over his shoulders as you asked, “Really wanna have that conversation right now?” 

He paused for a moment, seemingly taking some time to think over your words, “Fuck no.” 

You allowed yourself to laugh that time, “Then come here.” 

Carmy found it difficult to breathe when you tugged him closer. The scent of your shampoo fogged his mind as he hid your face against your neck. Your hands guided his, leading them beneath your shirt. He let out a deep sigh when his palms met the warmth of your skin. 

As his hands began tentatively exploring your breasts, he tried to ease his nerves by layering a series of open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with undoing your pants. 

“You have big hands, Carm,” you muttered, leaning your cheek against his messy head of hair as he indulged him in his affections. 

Big, warm, tattooed hands. His thumbs ran over your nipples occasionally as he gently squeezed you. His fingers dug into the plush of your skin. 

Despite having little room with the way Carmy was leaning against you, you managed to push your pants off your waist, shifting your hips in order to do so. As he continued palming at your breasts, he flushed a deeper shade of red, thankful his face was still hidden from your view. 

“Is that a good thing?” he questioned. “Big hands?” 

He felt you nod in response, “It’s hot.” 

In more ways than one, he believed, due to the heat building up in his stomach. His forehead had developed a thin layer of sweat as well. He followed your lead when you directed his hands to your hips instead. When his fingertips met the hem of your underwear, he inhaled sharply. 

“Think you can get these off without any help?” 

He stopped pressing warm kisses against your neck to meet your gaze. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head at your teasing tone, licking his lips with an amused grin, “Shut up. What happened to the nice, sweet, good girl from before?” 

Holy shit. 

His comment made you pause. Your semi-arrogant smile fell, becoming one of shyness instead. Carmy’s, on the other hand, brightened. He had somehow managed to turn the tables. Seems like it was your turn to be embarrassed. 

He ran his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you closer. He continued to smile as you avoided his gaze. 

“Hey,” he muttered, placing a hand on your cheek and encouraging your eyes to meet his, “d’you like it when I call you that?” 

His smile was softer now. His body language, however, was giving off a newfound confidence, something you didn’t get to see very often. But with the way he caressed your skin, palms rubbing you soothingly in a steady pattern, you could tell he genuinely wanted to know. 

He furrowed his eyebrows when you offered a mumbled reply, “Hmm?” 

With shivers running along your spine and an affirming nod, you repeated yourself, “I do. Yes.”

“Yes, who?” he asked, cursing himself only seconds later for the question.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath in surprise. Your eyes fell to his lips, thinking about feeling them on yours again. Carmy watched you carefully when they did so. His cock throbbed heavily between his legs as the head gently bumped against your clothed entrance with every move he made. 

You met his eyes again when his fingers delved into the flesh of your thigh. Admiring his blown pupils, you answered, “Yes, Chef.” 

Both of his hands came to your hips. His fingers sunk into the hem of your underwear as he whispered, “Can I?” 

He slowly slid the fabric down your legs when you gave him a whispered confirmation. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him closer. His lips hovered over yours with a groan as your free hand wrapped around his cock.

“Are you sure?” 

Carmy’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, slowly fluttered open. They flew over your features before he finally nodded, “Yeah.” 

Your lips met his in a soft kiss before your forehead came to rest against his. With your hand gently stroking his length, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp. He looked down to watch your movements with desperate, hooded eyes. 

You ran the mushroom head through your wet folds. Carmy would’ve been embarrassed by his fascination at the way his cock glistened with your wetness if he wasn’t too busy groaning in pleasure. 

“Gotta go slow, okay? I’ll have to adjust,” you said, and then a quiet laugh filled the air between the two of you. “Like I told you, you’re big.”  

Carmy was sure his skin was cherry red by now, due to a combination of the growing heat in his stomach and your compliments. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows furrowed when your hand eased the head of his cock into your entrance. He couldn’t stop his fingers dug into your skin, creating indents on your thighs. 

Arms encasing your lower back, he pressed himself closer, furthering the reach of his cock. His chest met yours, both of your shirts rubbing against the other. He could both see and feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. 

Your hand that had been guiding him moved upwards, threading through his thick, unruly hair. He didn’t even need to move for you to start letting out a series of gasping moans. The sheer size of him was enough. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you nudged him as close as you could. His warmth melted into yours. His skin was aglow with heat, effort, and sweat. His length sinks deeper, stretching you wide and open for him. You hiss at the feeling. 

Oh, yeah. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. 

You kiss the bridge of his nose as you adjust to his size. Carmy quickly raises his head so his lips can meet yours. It’s a struggle, given how difficult it is for either of you to properly breathe at the moment. 

Carmy’s cheeks are flushed red entirely. He’s burning on the inside with a newfound desperation for you. His cock throbs inside your walls and he feels as though he’s being drowned in your body by the pressure. Meanwhile, you can hardly focus on anything besides the noises he continuously lets out. 

He hisses and groans with every shift, not expecting the feeling to be so tight. You’re dripping with so much arousal that it’s nearly soaking his pelvis and thighs. As his hands traveled under the fabric of your shirt to practically claw at your back, he can’t help but think about how the feeling of you around him is infinitely better than that of his own fist. 

In that moment, Carmy knew you had ruined him for anyone else. He was completely, without any doubt in his mind, yours. And fucking proud of it too. 

“You can move,” you whispered, strengthening your grip around his shoulders and tugging at his hair. 

One of his arms curled further around you. His palm landed between your shoulder blades, slowly gliding over your skin that was hidden beneath your shirt. The other wrapped around your lower back. 

His cheek leaned against yours as he gasped heavily into your ear after the first roll of his hips. Your hand continued to pull at his dark strands of hair, the other tangling itself in his shirt. 

Slowly, he rocked into you, the pace starting off easy and unhurried. Given his size, you could already feel the head of Carmy’s cock gently bumping against your cervix. You gasped heavily with each of his movements. Your body writhed against him. 

“Faster,” you muttered. “Carmy, go faster. Oh, fuck, please.” 

Carmy melted at the way your moans echoed throughout his office. He huffed repeatedly with effort as his thrusts steadily increased. The slapping of skin, along with the slick sounds of your wet entrance, filled the room. Carmy couldn’t help but curse when your teeth suddenly sunk into the crevice of his neck. 

“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Could stay inside you forever! Damn it! Wanna stay, wanna stay!”  

Your mind felt empty of anything besides Carmy. His warm breath hitting your skin as he rambled on and on. The way he clawed at you desperately, trying to bring you impossibly closer. How his balls were repeatedly slapping against your dripping arousal. 

“Carmy!” you whined, trying your best to redirect his grip on you, which was rather difficult due to his lightning pace. “Here! Touch me here! Make me cum! Make me let go on your cock! Oh, shit, you’re—ah!” 

You guided his fingers against your clit. Despite his state of pleasured delirium, Carmy seemed to understand what you wanted from him. He massaged the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves down your spine. 

The tightly wound cord within you finally snaps. You cry out, gripping onto Carmy in order to gain at least some sense of stability. He continues to rut in and out of you like no tomorrow.

The only inclination that he knows you’ve finally cum is the pitchy moan he lets out when your walls constrict his cock with every wave of release. His hand is covered in your cum and he can’t stop himself from pulling his face out of hiding.

With one arm still around you and his hips still slapping loudly, he’s quite the vision when he suddenly brings his fingers to his mouth. It’s then, as he gets a taste of you, that he decides you’re his new favorite meal. In just one night, you’ve made him insatiable.

His hand goes for another round, trying to collect more of your wetness on his fingertips. Meanwhile, you’re beginning to collapse into overstimulation. You take to pressing your forehead against Carmy’s shoulder, panting and huffing as his throbbing length continues to delve deep into your dripping hole. 

Carmy’s trying his best to take in every bit of you that he can, repeatedly collecting your release to press against his tongue as he pounds into you. He rubs at your clit with reckless abandon, craving more of the taste. 

“Please, please,” he begged, distressed at the very idea that you might not cum again. “Wanna keep tasting you! You’re so fucking good!” 

He’s unaware that your moans are no longer coherent. The only thing that continues to tumble from your lips is the sound of your uncontrollable gasps for air and an occasional curse.

Given it was his first time, you hadn’t expected him to have so much stamina. His thrusts seemed impossibly fast, pistoning in and out of you at lightning speed without a second thought. 

Sinking against him, another orgasm washed over you as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Carmy groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, “Fuck, I can’t—! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, fuck, oh—!” 

His entire lower half rolls into you. He can feel crescents forming in his skin with how deep your nails are digging into him. He thrusts again, once, twice, and then a third time before he’s spilling into you. His cum seeps out around his cock, forming a white ring at the base. 

Despite hardly being able to breathe, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips move against yours in gentle movements. It’s a stark contrast to the way he had been pounding into you only seconds ago. His length is beginning to soften inside you, which you’re slightly grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure you’d make it through another round of that. 

“Are you okay?” he muttered, lips haphazardly meeting yours as his cock leaves you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to cum inside. I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, “I’m on birth control. And I can get a morning-after pill.” 

He nods in response and then his eyebrows scrunch up. You almost laugh, wanting nothing more than to smooth out the ridges between them. Your hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, tracing over his chest absentmindedly. 

Pressing another kiss against his jaw, you ask him just to make sure, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hands slipping beneath your shirt in order to rub your back. “It’s just—uh—I don’t know, it’s stupid—”

“I’m sure it’s not,” you interrupted, not wanting him to lose the confidence you had seen in him only minutes prior. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 

His eyes quickly darted to the side. Although they only did so for a split second, you still noticed. Following the direction of his glance, your gaze lands on your discarded bra.

Carmy lets out a quiet curse as he zips up his pants, realizing that he had been caught. He ignores your smirk while he pulls you off his desk and helps you do the same. Even though helping you put your clothes back on is something no one else had ever done for you after sex before, you knew it was at least partially meant to distract you from your new revelation.

You quickly decide, however, that you can’t help yourself. With a smile, you quietly say his name in an effort to bring his attention back to you. 

“Hmm?” he muttered, trying to ignore the way your hands trace gently over his shoulders while he rebuttons your pants. 

You slowly tilt his head, leaving him with no choice but to meet your eyes. You repeat his name in a sing-song voice, “Carmy!” 

He grasped your hands in his and pulled them away from his face. He quickly distracts himself by playing with your fingers. After a moment, he sighed before looking at you with softened eyes. 

“Can you teach me the bra thing now?” 

Your face brightens with an amused laugh. Carmy instantly groans in embarrassment, throwing his head back and swatting gently at your backside with a muttered, “Stop that! I told you it was fucking dumb!” 

“No, no,” you shook your head, still chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “Pass it here, Berzatto. Then you can keep it as a homework assignment.” 

He muttered a curse under his breath, which only made you fall into another fit of laughter. He then picked your bra up from the floor and handed it over. With an arm on either side of your hips, he rests his palms on his desk that sat behind you. All his weight leans onto them and you can’t help but smile at how close he is while he stares intently at your hands, waiting for you to begin your lesson.

[sara-scribbles]

Melting the Dragon King's Heart (Part 3)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 7,661 Notes: Hey all, sorry for being off the grid for so long! I've been busy and haven't had much time to do anything besides study. But we're finally at the end! I hope everyone enjoyed the story! It was a lot of fun to try my hand at writing this. Malleus is a fun character to write for.

I might have some more isekai/regression/reincarnation stories for Leona and Jamil. It's something I've been thinking about but haven't fully committed. Let me know if these ideas sound interesting and you'd like me to write on them.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: Physical abuse, emotional abuse, attempted murder, actual murder, death

Despite being in the library often, it’s always a little daunting when you first step in. There are plenty of staff to help, but shelves upon shelves of texts are still a bit much. A lot of the texts near the back are quite old. A lot of them have to be handled with care or they might just fall apart.

After asking for books on enchanted weapons, with a strange look from the librarian, you sit down and try your best to go through as much as possible. After a few hours of no success, you feel a headache coming on. Leaning back, you let out a deep, tired breath. There are plenty of enchanted weapons, some real and some just legend, but there’s nothing about the specific weapon you’re looking for.

In the story, the dagger is described as being crimson with an obsidian handle. It was originally a sword blessed by a group of fairies to take down a corrupted dragon. However, once the blade had been dipped in the ancient dragon’s blood, the blessing turned into a curse. Somehow the sword was broken but enough remained to create a dagger. 

Any cut made by the blade could not be healed. No magic, no potion, no artifact could stop the bleeding. The wounded person would bleed to death. If the person was lucky, they could die in a matter of seconds. Those not so lucky would have an agonizingly slow death. Even if they were to cauterize the wound, the bleeding would continue. It would only stop once the wounded died.

“Very grim,” you mutter under your breath. For such a light hearted novel, the curse of the blade was surprising. However, it’s never used since the main protagonist is able to get it.

“Your highness, is everything alright?” the royal librarian.

Sitting up straight, you clear your throat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find what I’m looking for. Could you put these back?” You close the book with a thump.

“Of course. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you.” Deciding to head back to your office, you leave the library. By now you know how to navigate your way through the castle. 

Your feet move on autopilot as your mind wanders. There must be something you can do. The only other thing you can think of is returning home to see if they’ve found the cursed dagger. Of course this would require you to figure out the relative time frame of when Yūki meets Malleus to when it's found. However, you’re unsure if following the story timeline would even be helpful with how different everything is now.

Arriving back at your office, you eye the stack of documents still left for your review. Plopping down onto the chair unceremoniously, you rub your eyes. Instead of doing the work on your desk, you find the previous book you had been reading. You never thought books about laws would be interesting, but Briar Valley has some strange laws that make reading about them fascinating.

As you flip to the bookmark, you note with some irony that the next chapter is on divorce. Perhaps when your plan had been to divorce Malleus, this would have been helpful. Though, still curious, you decide to read it. Everything about Briar Valley’s laws are complicated, though maybe not as complicated as the Queendom of Roses. There are separate laws for fae, humans, and fae-human issues.

You skip to the section on fae-human divorce since that would apply to you. “ ‘Depending on whether the parties have participated in the soul ceremony, divorce can be rather difficult though not impossible.’ What’s a soul ceremony?”

Before you can continue, Diablo knocks on the door. “Your grace, lunch is being served.” You quickly close the book before following him.

---

You’re silently reading in bed while Malleus goes through some documents. The times he used to come to your room to “hold your hand” has extended to almost every night. Instead of holding your hand, you both comfortably sit in your bed either talking or reading.

Malleus still returns to his room once it’s time for bed. You almost asked him if he wanted to stay the previous night, but you lost your nerves. There’s something very different from just reading in bed to actually sleeping next to him. You wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with him, but it’s almost been an entire year of marriage and you haven’t once slept in the same bed, so you’re unsure about how to bring it up.

Malleus shuffles his papers with a deep sigh. Glancing over at him, he rubs the bridge of his nose while muttering to himself. “Something wrong?” you ask.

He sets the papers aside on the bedside table. “Nothing really. Just that grandmother will be visiting soon. And she’s already placed certain…demands on me.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “She is?!” You had only met her a handful of times. Yet, in those few formal visits, all you can recall is how intimidating both in magic and overall presence she is.

Chuckling, the fae reaches out and squeezes your hand. “No need to worry, my heart. I’ll take care of all the preparations.”

Book forgotten, you turn to him. “What did she ask for?”

“She wants her favorite room overlooking the gardens. She, of course, expects to have dinner with both of us. And a few other things about her daily walks around Briar Valley that I’m sure Diablo can take care of,” he answers, ticking off each one on his fingers.

Fiddling with the sheets, you ask, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Hmm… She didn’t say anything in her letters. But I’m sure she’ll let you know if she wants anything.” His gaze flickers over to the book in your lap.

“I should do something for her. Since it’s been awhile, maybe I can get her some flowers. Or maybe plan an outing? Do you think she’d want to have tea in the gardens? Or maybe…” As you ramble, Malleus takes the book from your lap.

He nods occasionally while he skims the page. His lips press together in a thin line. Brows furrowing, his eyes narrow. You pause when you finally notice he’s not listening. “Malleus?”

Turning away from the book, he asks in a serious tone, “Did I do something wrong?”

Blinking owlishly, you cycle back to the conversation. Yet, nothing comes to mind about what he is referring to. “What are you talking about?”

He gestures to the book. “You’re reading about divorce in regards to fae-human relationships. Did I do something wrong to make you consider divorce?” Though his tone is even, the stormy look in his eyes say otherwise. There’s a flash of lighting outside the window.

Ignoring the sudden change in weather, you shake your head. “I’m not planning to divorce you, Malleus.”

His shoulders relax and his gaze clears. “I see…”

Taking the book away from him, you set it aside. “I’ll tell you the truth. I may have considered divorce at the start of our marriage because I didn’t want you to be unhappy.” ‘I also didn’t want to die’ you add silently. “But I realized that it would be unfair to ask for divorce based on a few months together. And it would be selfish of me to not consider your own feelings.”

“If you aren’t happy here, I’d be fine with a divorce,” he says, his voice strained. “I want you to be happy.”

Leaning against his shoulder, you hum in agreement. “I am happy. And you’re happy too, right?”

“Of course,” he responds without missing a beat.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Except the fact your parents possibly have a weapon that could kill him.

He wraps his arm around your middle, dragging you closer to his side so your head rests against his chest. He leans back against the pillows. You can hear the steady beating of his heart. A comfortable silence falls and you're almost lulled to sleep. The thought of sharing a room pops into your head once more.

“Hey, do you want to share a room?” you inquire, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

Malleus straightens up, which startles your comfortable position. “You wish to share a room?” His eyes are wide.

Sitting up, you find yourself picking at the sheets again. “Well, you basically come here every night, so that would be the most logical thing to do. And we are married, so it wouldn’t be strange if we decided to sleep in the same room.”

Shuffling out of bed, Malleus puts on his dragon slippers. “I will let Diablo know at once to prepare the master bedroom,” he says hurriedly. 

“M-Mallues?” He has already gathered his papers and is about to head out before he stops halfway.

He walks back over to you. With a large grin, he leans down and kisses the top of your head. “I almost forgot, my heart. Good night.” Eyes twinkling, he leaves without another word.

Your mouth hangs open for a bit before you snap it closed with a click.

---

In less than a day, your new bedroom is ready. Diablo has your things moved in while you're working. The old butler seems at ease and comments how Malleus is in a wonderful mood. Everyone you pass by smiles brightly at you. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that it seems everyone knows why he’s in a good mood. But, it’s honestly adorable.

There is a nervous feeling that settles in your stomach as you think about the logistics of sharing a room. For one, you have to share a bathroom, which isn’t much of an issue considering how massive the bathrooms are. The only thing you’re concerned about is possibly being walked in on while changing. It isn’t like you haven’t seen another naked person, but you’re self conscious about the scars on your back.

No one, besides your parents and the few people who treated you on occasion when you were unable to, knows about the scars. They’re all thin and straight, but there are so many. They crisscross from the top of your back to the small of your back. Some are very old while others are only about a year old. 

You recall the faces of the few doctors who had seen the scars. Looks of shock and pity aren’t uncommon. One, you recall vividly, did not react at all, but you could see the way her hands shook. Yet, none dared to ask where the marks came from nor did they ever say anything to your parents. They valued their lives far more.

How could you blame them?

Shaking your head to clear out the bad thoughts, you decide you’ll figure out what to do when the time comes. For now, you have to decide what to do with two unexpected visitors. 

There had been a commotion at the palace gates that Diablo had come to you about this morning. When you heard what happened, you immediately went to meet them. Now in the drawing room, Yūki sits across from you looking sheepish. Grim happily munches on the food offered by Diablo.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” you start. It’s true since Yūki and Grim are not supposed to come for another two months. It’s just another indication that the story is completely different.

Yūki sighs. “Grim kept nagging about wanting to visit. When he wants to do something, he typically won’t change his mind. I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced.”

You wave off their apology. “It’s fine. I just wanted to be able to prepare for your visit more. Diablo can prepare a guest room. It’s a little busy here because Malleus’s grandmother is visiting soon.” you explain.

“Should we leave? I don’t want to be intruding…” Grim doesn’t seem bothered as he downs a cup of tea. Diablo pours him a refill without missing a beat.

“No, it’s fine. She’s not supposed to be here for another month. So, how are your travels?” you ask, changing the subject.

They seem to relax a bit. “It’s great! We went to visit the Scalding Sands before coming here. We even got to ride a magic carpet!” Their eyes light up as they talk about their newest adventure.

You wonder how they felt in the original novel when they had to stay in Briar Valley at the end. The author didn’t mention much about what happened except that Yūki went on to rule alongside Malleus. It was implied that they never left Briar Valley. Could someone who loved traveling so much really be happy staying in one place?

At some point in the conversation Malleus comes in. He pauses when his gaze lands on Yūki. You watch as he regards them curiously. Yet, it’s only a brief pause before he turns to you to ask you a few questions about a document. He leaves right after without a second look.

A part of you is a little disappointed at the underwhelming moment of their first meeting. However, another part is happy that there isn’t some kind of instant connection between the two. You’re selfish.

“He’s scary,” Grim mutters once Malleus is gone.

“Grim!” Yūki looks at you apologetically.

“What?! I’m just telling the truth! The magic rolling off of him is intense!” The cat waves his paws around. “It’s suffocating! You might not be able to feel it henchhuman, but I can tell!”

“It’s alright. Malleus can seem rather intimidating, but he really isn’t. I promise he’s a gentle, kind soul,” you assure them with a laugh.

Yūki relaxes once more. “He obviously loves you very much,” they state while chewing on a macaron. You face warms. “He only has eyes for you,” they continue “and it seems the feelings are mutual…” A single eyebrow goes up.

Trying to hide your embarrassment, you take a long sip of tea. Clearing your throat, you can’t meet their amused eyes. “Well…yes, they are,” you say in a soft tone. You can’t lie about your feelings. “He has a good heart. We started off rocky, but we’re in a good place now.”

Yūki and Grim both glance at each other. You realize you’re probably smiling like a fool and quickly school your features as best as you can. You steer the conversation to a different topic.

Later, Diablo shows them to the guest room and you head back to your office. There’s still paperwork you need to finish. On your desk is some mail with many of them being letters from other foreign dignitaries. However, one letter causes your blood to run cold. You know that sharp but elegant script as you know the scars on your back.

Rarely have your parents sent letters. Slipping the letter opener under the envelope, you’re almost tempted to burn the letter without looking. But the fact that they sent a letter must mean something important. It’s only a single sheet with only three sentences. You blink a few times before setting down the paper. The page blurs as you feel your chest pounding and a distant, high pitched noise fills your ears.

Dearest child,

Your mother has passed. Come home so our country may mourn her. The funeral will be tomorrow.

Father

Before you can fully realize anything, the door to your office opens. Malleus steps inside with a concerned look in his gaze while holding a piece of paper. Breaking out of your daze, you zero in on the paper in his hand. It’s the same sharp writing. There’s nowhere to hide.

“My heart, I am so sorry,” he says, gently setting down the letter. You can see that your father wrote more to him in the letter. “Are you okay?”

He reaches out but pauses when he notices the look in your eyes. There’s a long pause before you find your voice. “I’m fine. Thank you…” You carefully take your own letter and fold it back into the envelope. “I should prepare to return…” you whisper.

Malleus gently takes your hand in his. “Take all the time you need. I know the mourning process can take time.”

Your heart aches at his kindness. But how can you tell him that you don’t want to go back? That you’re terrified of returning to a place that only holds bad memories? Malleus lost his parents, so he’s no stranger to loss. But you hold no sympathy for the woman who called herself your mother.

“I’ll inform Diablo. Finish up what you need here.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before leaving to find the old butler.

You stand there for a moment. Your heavy breathing is the only sound that you can hear. You stumble your way out of the study. As everything fades in the background, childhood memories come back. Memories of a younger version huddling on the bed, knees draw close to her chest. Always shaking but never crying because it would only lead to further punishment.

A voice calls out as you stumble and fall forward. You hit the ground face first but you don’t register the impact. A hand comes into your lines of vision and you instinctively jerk away.

“Don’t…” you cry out weakly.

Suddenly Yūki’s face appeared into your field of vision. They say something but you don’t really hear. They move away for a bit and return with some water. They press the cup into your hands. They place a gentle hand on your back while rubbing slow circles. Your hands shake as you stare into the cup. As your breathing slows down, the pressure in your chest lessens. After a little longer, you take a slow sip.

“Your highness?” Yūki hesitantly calls to you in a soft tone.

Swallowing, you look around. Somehow, you stumbled your way to Yūki’s guestroom. “I…I’m sorry for barging in on you…” you apologize.

Yūki offers their hand and guides you to a chair. Setting the cup on the table, you sag back into the chair. “Just take your time,” they say, taking a seat as well.

Glancing around, you note that Grim isn’t anywhere to be seen. As if reading your mind, Yūki adds, “Grim went to grab a snack from the kitchen. He probably won’t be back for a while.”

You fiddle with your hands trying to find the words. You’re sure Yūki isn’t the type to gossip, so whatever you tell them would be safe. But should you be dumping your personal problems on someone who you’ve only met a few times?

“I don’t want to burden you with my personal problems…but would you be willing to listen?” The weight of everything has always been there, but you had ignored it. But with the arrival of the letter, you can’t ignore it anymore. Perhaps hearing the advice of someone from the outside would help.

Nodding, Yūki offers an encouraging smile. So you tell them everything. Well almost everything. You tell them about the past, your parents’ plan to take over Briar Valley using your unique magic, the fact that you’ve been lying to Malleus from the beginning, that they may have the one weapon that could kill Malleus. Every word out of your mouth feels like a release. Yūki listens without saying a word and keeping their facial expression straight.

Finally, you finish and it feels like you’ve been speaking for hours. Your throat feels dry, but the weight has been lessened. You wait for Yūki to respond. It’s a lot of information to be telling someone in one sitting.

Clearing their throat, their brows draw together. “Well…sorry but fuck that’s a lot!”

Your eyebrows go up as you stare at each other. Then, you start laughing. You both burst into laughter. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Yūki say something like that. Wiping away stray tears, you shake your head with a smile.

“Sorry for dumping all that on you. I think I just needed to tell someone.” You sigh. “I’ve been holding that in for so long, but it feels good to at least tell someone.”

They wave off your apology. “You’d be surprised how many of my friends I had to play therapist for. It’s nothing new.”

Despite the reassurance, you can see the slight sag in their shoulders. “Still, you shouldn’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m being a hypocrite since I just did the same thing, but I want you to know it’s okay to just turn away if something becomes too much. You don’t have to fix everyone’s problems.”

Looking away, Yūki chuckles softly. “You’re the first person to tell me that… Thank you.”

You want to tell them that you know about the things they have to go through in the story. But don’t because Yūki isn’t a character in Idia’s book. Despite starting out in what you understood to be a story, you’ve come to realize that the people you’ve interacted with are not characters. They’re people with their own emotions and wills.

Breathing in deeply, you flex your hands. “I’m going to tell Malleus everything. I think it’s time he knew the truth, and he can decide for himself what he wants to do.”

“That’s probably for the best. Lying usually ends up biting you in the ass later on.” You both laugh. “He clearly adores you. So, you just need to trust in him to understand.”

“Right.” You offer Yūki a wide smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

---

After a lively dinner thanks to Grim’s antics, you’re getting ready for bed. Malleus is already tucked in reading. Though you plan to tell him everything, you can’t help but move slowly. You had prepared a speech, but now you can’t remember a word.

Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, you regard Malleus. His shoulders are relaxed and his facial expression is almost serene. The stress from hosting his grandmother has all but disappeared. Your heart swells with affection for him. You want to live the rest of your life with him in peace and warmth. And the only way that it can happen is if you tell him the truth. Together you can figure out a way to take care of your parents.

Feeling your gaze, Malleus looks up. “My heart?” His head tilts to the side.

Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders. “Malleus, I need to tell you something.”

He closes the book, giving you his full attention. “Why don’t you come here and we can talk?”

Hesitating, you shake your head. “I want to stand. What I’m going to tell you will be a lot.” He nods.

As you tell him everything about your life and your parents’ plans, he doesn’t react at all. You pour out all your feelings and thoughts. As the words leave your mouth, you feel even lighter. A sense of relief washes over you as you finish. You wait in agonizing silence as Malleus remains quiet. His gaze is distant as he takes in everything.

Finally, he looks at you. He doesn’t say a word as he holds his arms out to you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you walk over to the bed. Climbing in the bed, he wraps his arms around your form and pulls you close to him.

You bury your face in his chest. You can only mutter apologizes as he holds your tight. He doesn’t say anything as you quietly sob. After what feels like an eternity, you seem to run out of tears. Your eyes are sore and puffy.

He kisses the top of your head. “Thank you for telling me the truth. It must have been difficult,” he mumbles. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Ear pressed against his chest, you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was too scared,” you admit. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” He gently wipes away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “However, I am upset. Very much so.”

His green eyes glow dangerously as he glances out the window. Dark clouds roll in and lightning strikes. “Should I go there myself?” he muses.

“Malleus…” Placing a hand against his cheek, you turn his head so he looks at you. “Don’t do anything rash. My father is to blame not the people of my country. You can’t just go in and wipe out the country.”

Frowning, he looks thoughtful before he smiles sharply. “How about I just kill him, my heart. Or I can give you the honor of doing that.”

Leaning against his chest, you shake your head. “He might have that weapon…”

“I’ll squish before he even has a chance to think about using it.”

“This would be considered a criminal act.”

“What your parents did to you and planned to do with me are criminal acts. I’m only ending this before it can lead to something worse.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Then I’ll do it for you.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you smile to yourself as you tighten your hold on Malleus. “Let’s talk about what to do tomorrow. But thank you for offering to help despite everything.”

“Of course. I would do anything for you.” 

---

The next day you wake up feeling at peace. Malleus knows the truth and he still cares about you. You don’t have to go back to that place. Stretching, Malleus tightens his hold around your waste. 

You still can’t believe that someone as regal as Malleus likes to cuddle. Most mornings you spend a few minutes trying to get out of his hold. He can be rather clingy first thing in the morning. It’s cute.

“We need to get up,” you say, trying to worm your way out of his hold. He hums before releasing you.

Malleus sits up as you find your slippers. You can feel his stare and quickly look up. He’s frowning with his brows pinched together. “What’s wrong?”

“Your scars…I didn’t realize…”

Right, you usually hide them long before he can see them. But last night’s confession had taken a lot out of both of you. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Malleus.”

Eyes narrowing, he shakes his head. “I need to talk to Lilia about what we should do.” He pauses, his brow smooths as he regards you. “Can I tell him everything you told me?”

You hesitate for a second but agree. “Yes. You trust Lilia, so I’ll trust him too.” If you’re going to do this without blowing up an entire country, you’ll need help. And Lilia seems rather level-headed under all the teasing.

Malleus leans over to peck you on the cheek. “I’ll see him now. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’m going to head to my office once I check up on Yūki and Grim.” You feel your mouth stretch into a goofy grin as he pulls away. You’re pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach when he kisses you will never go away.

Once you’re clean and dressed, you make your way to the guest room. Yūki and Grim are already out, though the feline looks half asleep. “Morning, you two.”

Yūki gives a short wave before a yawn overtakes them. They quickly cover their mouth. “Mornin’....”

“It’s too early to be up!” Grim grumbles.

You chuckle as he yawns. “I’m sure the cooks have prepared something tasty for breakfast.”

That perks him up. “What are we standing here for?! Let's go!” He rushes ahead as Yūki follows at a slower pace.

“So… is everything okay?” They give you a sideways glance.

“Yeah. He took it well.” You give a small nod. “Thank you for listening yesterday.”

“Of course.” They offer a reassuring smile. “I was also thinking about what you said yesterday…about not needing to fix everyone’s problems…”

“Yes?”

Chewing on their lower lip, they’re silent as you near the dining room. They relax a bit when Grim turns around to beckon for them to hurry up. “You’re right. I don’t need to fix everyone’s problems. I need to learn when to take a step back and say no. I’m going to work on that. I just wanted to let you know.”

“It might take a bit of practice, but it’s good you’re taking your own feelings and well-being into consideration.” Patting them on the back, you two share a look before they’re pulled away by Grim’s shouting.

A flash near the window catches your eye and your blood runs cold. “Your majesty?” Diablo calls to you, worry etched on his wizened face. He looks out but doesn’t react. “Is something the matter?”

“D-did you see him?” you ask, your hands curl into fists.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I did not see anything. Should I have the guards take a look?”

You pause. You don’t want to cause a scene if it’s nothing. But you also wouldn’t put it past your father to show up uninvited to drag you home. “Yes, have someone take a look. If they find Duke Wynters, please send him away.”

Without further explanation, Diablo leaves. You let out a deep breath. It could just be your own fears playing tricks on you. Joining Grim and Yūki for breakfast, you try your best to forget about it.

However, after breakfast Diablo reports that the guards did not find anyone. Not even a trace of magic. Despite that, you’re still on edge as you head to your office. Hand hovering over the door knob, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Grasping the handle, you throw open the door to your study with a bang.

There’s no one inside. Everything is in its usual place. You let out another deep breath and shake your head. Taking a seat, you take the nearest stack of papers to start work. You throw the stack across the room as if burned.

The letter that you had burned flutters to the floor. You jump up. “Diab-!”

A cold hand clamps down on your arm. “Don’t.” Duke Wynter’s grip is strong despite his age. Old memories hold you in place as fear settles in.

“You know, I was so disappointed when you didn’t come home for your own mother’s funeral. Tsk…” His voice is calm, but you know better.

“H-how did you-” You hate that your voice shakes.

“Get in here? There are things magic artifacts can do that can even trick a mighty dragon.” He snorts. “Now, we’re going home. And I’m sure your dear husband will follow.” He bares his teeth in a ruthless smile.

Duke Wynters pulls a small pocket mirror from his breast pocket. He tosses it out and it expands into a full length mirror. A disembodied face stares back at you. “Take us back home, Mirror,” he orders.

“As you command,” the mirror murmurs. The surface of the mirror ripples and slowly changes until it shows the image of the manor. Gripping your arm tightly, he drags you toward it.

You don’t want to go, but fear grips your body. So, you let your panic swell along with your magic. The room becomes so cold you can see your own breath. Your vision blurs as Duke Wynters screams and something explodes.

Then everything goes black.

---

Malleus sends the doors of the study flying off. The entire study has been destroyed. The windows have been blown out and a thick layer of ice coats everything. His breath comes out in small puffs of fog.

He shouts your name. The frozen chandelier shakes.

Lilia places a hand on his arm. “They’re gone. Most likely back to his home. We need to leave now if we want to catch up to them.”

Turning to Sebek and Silver, Lilia gives them both a hard look. “Malleus and I will go after the queen. You both stay here and make sure everything is okay.”

They both give him a salute. “Please take care, father,” Silver says, forgoing the formalities.

“Stay safe, your majesty!” Sebek bows deeply to Malleus.

The two fae give one last nod before they vanish.

Standing at the entrance to your home, it’s oddly quiet and deserted. Dark, gloomy clouds loom threateningly in the distance. For a brief moment Malleus wishes he could have seen you during your childhood. But that thought quickly fades as he remembers the scars that criss-cross your back. Bitterness fills his mouth and anger boils to the surface.

The front gate is locked, but he simply blows it away with a snap of his fingers. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Lilia gives Malleus a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be okay. But…maybe we shouldn’t destroy everything.”

There’s a beat of silence before Malleus calms himself, though his fists remain clenched. “Let’s head inside.”

They enter the home but there’s still not a soul to be found. There’s an eeriness to the dead silence. Passing rooms, there’s evidence of the occupants hastily leaving. The two fae follow the strong presence of magic. They enter an outdoor courtyard though it looks like it’s seen better days.

There in the middle sits a figure slumped over. Malleus’s eyes widen as he rushes over calling your name. However, he’s stopped by another voice. “I’m so glad you could come, your majesty.” Duke Wynters stands on a balcony that overlooks the courtyard. Malleus notes he seems to favor his left side. Small flecks of ice cling to his tattered coat sleeve.

Clenching his teeth, his hands itch to burn him without thought. But the smug look on the man’s face makes him cautious. He has something up his sleeve if he can confidently speak down to two powerful fae.

“Let her go,” he orders. “And I will make your death a merciful one.”

The duke cackles. He gestures to the still slumped over figure. “Unfortunately, I cannot give you my dear daughter unless you’re willing to make a deal.”

His eyes burn with disgust. “Or I could just kill you right now.”

“You could. But then you’d also be killing her.” Duke Wynters raises both hands and starts moving his fingers. Now, Malleus can see what’s going on. Thin strings of magic are connected to each of the duke’s fingers. And they’re attached to you.

Your body suddenly moves. You jerkily raise your head and stand up. You're holding a dagger in one hand. Like a puppet, you mechanically point the blade at him. The strange crimson metal gleams under the low light. However, Malleus can see the pain and panic in your eyes. Despite your body being controlled, you’re fully conscious of what’s going on.

The duke continues, “You see, my unique magic allows me to control a person’s body like a marionette. However, my life and their life are connected until I end the magic. I believe you’re a smart one, you understand what I’m saying.” He grins sharply.

“What do you want?” Malleus finally asks.

The man chuckles. “All you need to do is to take her place. Call off your man and promise no harm shall come to me. In return, I’ll release your beloved.”

“How can I guarantee that once I die, you’ll keep your word?”

“Malleus I don-” Lilia is cut off with a look.

The duke sighs. “Honestly, you should have more faith in your father-in-law. But I will make a magic oath with you.”

Malleus doesn’t hesitate. “I accept.”

A wide, crazed grin forms on the duke’s face. “I knew you’d make the smart choice!”

“Malleus!” Lilia protests. “Don’t do this!”

“What choice do I have, Lilia?” Tears are streaming down your face. “If I don’t do this, she’ll die. And if she’s gone, I…I might as well be dead.”

The older fae can’t find any words. Of course he wants the queen back. But if Briar Valley loses their king, he’s not sure what will happen. However, Lilia can’t think of a way out of this. If what the duke told them of his unique magic is true, then they can’t kill him without killing you. And even if it might not be true, Malleus isn’t the type to take that sort of gamble. Not with you on the line.

Duke Wynters sighs. “This could have all been avoided if my dear stupid child had followed the plan. Instead she goes and falls in love with you.” Clucking his tongue, he shakes his head with feigned sadness. “That blade she’s holding is special. We spent so much time and resources looking for something that could kill such a powerful creature like you. The blade is cursed so that no wound made with it can be healed with magic or potions.”

Suddenly you start to jerkily walk toward Malleus while wielding the blade. The fear in your eyes shines brightly as you hold the blade inches from where his heart is. Your hand shakes.

Malleus meets your gaze. He had vowed to never make you unhappy, but it seems he’s unable to keep that promise.  Reaching out, he cups your face and brushes away the tears. “Do not worry, my heart, everything will be okay.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he can feel the blade’s point press into him. He closes his eyes.

“NO!” The shout that breaks through the tense silence chills him to the bone. Eyes opening, he only briefly sees you smiling through your tears with the blade plunged deep into your chest. You crumble to the ground.

The duke lets out a horrified scream that turns into a choke gurgle. He clutches at his chest as he loses his balance. He falls forward and plummets from the balcony. His body hits the ground with a sickening crunch.

However, Malleus is preoccupied with the blood that seeps from your body. Holding you close to him, he attempts to use magic on the wound. He ignores the blood that soaks into his clothes. But the blade only seems to absorb it. He mutters an apology as he pulls the blade out and attempts to heal the wound. Still nothing happens.

His voice cracks, “Lilia, what do I do?!” For the first time, Malleus is powerless.

Lilia shakes his head. “I don’t know…”

Your eyes flutter open. You attempt to touch him but you have no energy, so your hand falls uselessly aside. Malleus cradles your body. “Don’t leave me! Please!”

Your eyes glaze over. “No!” Malleus screams your name, but you don’t move. Dark clouds block out the sky and the wind howls outside as green lightning flashes.

A loud, mournful roar shakes the very earth.

---

You wake to bright fluorescent lights and the sound of a steady beeping noise. There’s also the familiar music of Idia’s favorite idol game playing. Turning your head to the sound, you spot Idia sitting in a chair with his eyes glued to his phone. It’s strange seeing him. Your head feels like mush as you try to gather your thoughts. Your heart throbs painfully for a moment before the feeling fades.

“Idia?” you call him.

He looks up from his screen, eyes widening. “You’re finally awake!”

Trying to piece together the last thing you remember, you ask, “What’s going on?”

“You fell down the stairs to the subway.” He pauses his game. “The doctors said you might be confused. Do you still remember everything?”

Sitting up, you glance at the clock on the wall with a slow nod. “How long was I out?”

“About a day.”

Touching the back of your head, you wince. “Are you sure? I swear it feels like I’ve been asleep for a long time.”

“Yup. You left me a message yesterday. By the way, it’s not a cringe book! Only noobs like you would think that,” he scoffs.

“Book?” Your head feels like a jumbled mess.

He rummages through his backpack before pulling out a familiar book. “The one I lent you. ‘Melting the Dragon King’s Heart’ is a heartfelt strangers-to-friends-to-lovers royal romance! It has everything you could ask for! Evil queen, hot dragon fae, spunky protagonist and a talking cat!”

You take the book from him. Frowning, you stare at the cover. The dragon king looks like a generic dark haired man. Yet, it looks wrong. “Are you sure he always looked like this?”

“What’s wrong with the way Malford looks?” You can see the annoyance in his face.

“Malford? Are you sure that’s his name?” You point to the cover. “I swear he looked different…”

Idia shrugs. “The dragon king is Malford Drago. He’s always looked like that. Yeesh! I know you didn’t like the story but at least pay attention to the main leads.”

When trying to remember, your head throbs painfully. Letting out a deep sigh, you fall back into the pillow. “Maybe I did hit my head harder than I thought…”

Glancing at the time, India starts packing up. “Visiting hours are almost over. I’ll let the nurses know you’re awake and come back tomorrow. Do you want me to bring anything for you?”

“I’m good. Thanks, Idia.” Smiling briefly, you close your eyes as you suddenly feel tired. Even as you drift off again, you feel like something’s missing.

---

A month after your fall down the subway stairs, you’re darting across the street. Dodging cars and people, you shout into the phone pressed to your ear. “I’ll be there in a few hours, Idia! I promise! I just forgot to grab some food.”

“I have food,” he grumbles. You can hear battle music in the background. 

“You have cavity-inducing candy! I need real food!” You skillfully weave your way through the people. “The raid can wait, my stomach can’t. I’ll text you when I’m heading over.” You end the call before Idia can argue further.

Despite going back to your usual routine, something feels off. The doctor had reassured you that you might feel a bit confused, but that you would be fine. You feel like something is missing. When you’re sleeping, you have such vivid dreams. Yet, when you wake up, you can’t recall anything and there’s a painful throbbing in your chest. When you checked with your doctor, they just passed it off as part of your body’s response to the accident. You tried your best to ignore it since then.

Pausing, you realize you’re standing near the subway. The same place where you fell because you weren’t paying attention. Tucking your phone into your pocket, you carefully descend down the stairs. You’re only halfway down when someone bumps into you.

“Hey!” The perpetrator rushes down without looking back.

Grumbling under your breath, you take a step. But your foot misses. You briefly wonder what Idia will say when he finds out you're in the hospital again. However, the fall never comes because the person coming up the stairs reaches out to save you.

Pressed against them, you meet familiar green eyes. They’re wide with surprise. “Are you okay?” Something about the voice sends a spark through your body. You know that voice.

Righting yourself, you frantically nod. “Y-yes! Thank you!”

He smiles. “Of course.” He pauses, brows furrowing. “You’re the one from before.”

“Huh?” You’re pretty sure you’ve never met despite the strange feeling.

He nods. “Yes, I remember. You fell down the stairs a few weeks ago. I tried to catch you but unfortunately didn't make it. I’m glad to see you’re okay, though.”

So he was the voice that called to you when you fell. “I…thank you for catching me this time. I should be more careful.”

When he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Maybe keep both eyes forward. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt again.”

“…” You don’t know what else to say. He’s breathtakingly beautiful and even more so when he smiles. His sharp green eyes are warm when they meet your gaze. You’re usually not the type to fall for a pretty face, but you can’t deny the instant attraction.

He seems to take your silence as the end of the conversation. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope you stay safe.” He nods before heading upstairs.

You stand there on the step frozen. The further he gets, the more your heart aches. Why? Touching your chest, you bite the inside of your cheek. Taking a deep breath, you rush back up. Looking around frantically, you see him already halfway down the street.

“W-wait!” you shout. Phone pressed to his ear, he turns with a slight frown, but his expression softens when he sees you.

You rush across the street, nearly getting hit by a car. They honk loudly while yelling unintelligible out the window. Ignoring them, you rush to him. Trying to calm your erratic heart, you take a deep breath.

“Let me call you back, Lilia,” you hear him say into the phone before ending the call and tucking the phone into his pocket. “Are you okay?” he asks, a single eyebrow raised.

You nod. “I-I wanted to ask if you’d like to grab a drink with me if you’re not busy. To thank you for saving me.” Yes, that sounds like a valid excuse. And it's not like Idia expects you anytime soon.

He tilts his head to the side. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You swallow nervously. “If you want to, that is…”

He regards you silently before agreeing. “I’d love to.”

Beaming, you hold out your hand. “Great. I’m (Y/N).”

When he takes your hand to shake, butterflies fill your stomach. He eyes your clasped hands with interest. “I’m Malleus,” he replies.

You stand there like an idiot still holding his hand. But he doesn’t seem to want to let go either. Your heart feels full and for the first time since the accident, the pain is no longer there.

Tag list: @candlewitch-cryptic, @whatstheoccasion, @nimko, @yo4sblog, @mc-cos-charm, @mochiclouds, @41sh4, @unloadingdata, @noctifer-cynoct, @rincommittedarsin, @liesatemyocean , @mavix

[rowrory]

FAVORITES

Want fics that don't just revolve around smut? Read these!

Fandoms include: jjk, bnha, haikyuu, aot, marvel, tvd

GOJO SATORU

Intrinsic Warmth — thatdesklamp (ao3)

Summary: “So stay with me. Forever.”

You make a weak stab at a joke. “For Infinity, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Satoru turns to look at you and your heart jumps at the clear expression on his face. There’s not a hint of humour: for once, he’s fully and completely serious. “For the rest of my life, and for all the lives after.”

-

You meet Satoru on 7th September, 1996.

Some time later, you realise you love him.

Notes: HOLY FUCK I LOVED THIS SO MUCH!?!?!??! THE ANGST?!?!? THE PINING?!?!?!? I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS!!!!!!!! THE AUTHOR WASN'T FUCKING AROUND WHEN SHE WROTE THIS!!!

gods, monsters, monkeys — yuzudrops (ao3)

Summary: A grossly under-qualified graduate of Jujutsu High is hired to teach a class of Special Grades. They learn there is more to strength than power. It doesn't end well.

Notes: chefs kisses, literally one of THE best gojo fics out there

Keep a Place For Me — alkhale (ao3)

Summary: A quiet story that takes place a little before Gojo Satoru was born to be the greatest shaman of this era, his youth, triumphs, losses, and his inherent rise to a place unknown by anyone else.

And the one person who bore witness to it all.

Notes: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THIS YET, YOU ARE SERIOUSLY MISSING OUT

take me down (to the depths of your depravity) — Innka (ao3)

Summary: The story starts with you standing in the pouring rain. All you remember are your orders.

Gojo Satoru. Look for the white hair and the baby blues.

"This will be easy," they said. "White hair and baby blues, eyes like the sky. Pull him in, fatten him up and send him to the devil. In and out, one and done."

"You can do this with your eyes closed," they said.

"This will be easy," they said.

They were wrong.

Notes: Read trigger warnings first

watermelon sugar why — Innka (ao3)

Summary: You had marched into his office, looking like your life was in his hands. You held out an excursion request. For a beach trip, of all things. By the time Gojo finished reading it, he had wanted to do exactly three things: sign the paper, laugh in your face, and bend you over on his desk to fuck you until you were screaming his name. 

Not necessarily in that order. 

Notes: this is a one shot but i live for pining satoru so

all that is solid melts into air — GrilledTandooriSmoke (ao3)

Summary: Curse user.

The words weigh heavy like lead on your tongue. Something that needs to be swished around before it's spat back out like the black gunk it is. Evil and vile jujutsu sorcerers who would dare turn on humanity in the never-ending war against curses.

And it just so happens you come from a family of them.

Alternatively: political machinations have you attending Jujutsu Tech at the same time as Gojo Satoru.

Notes: in love with this

among dawn flowers (the face of god) — unolvrs (ao3)

Summary: Your grandmother calls the young master of the Gojō Clan a boy-god, and you, his destined bride who will further the cause of the All-Seeing Eyes.

—or, you are raised to be Satoru’s bride and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. (Everything is.)

Notes: i love angst

the witches' brew — orphan_account (ao3)

Summary: You are the co-owner of a small café in a small, eccentric district in Tokyo that is notorious for bizarre murders and supernatural occurrences.

You think you’ve seen it all, but it turns out that nothing comes close to the man wearing a bad Kakashi cosplay who terrorizes you with his increasingly complicated and awful drink orders.

Notes: im devastated i didn't get to see who actually wrote this

5 + 1 — script_nef (orphan_account) (ao3)

Summary: 5 times Gojou had a date with you and 1 time you realised it was a date.

Alt title: Watch Gojou be really obvious about his crush but it goes completely over your head every time. Well, nearly every time.

Notes: kicked my feet a couple times while reading this

Ripverse — seoafin (ao3)

Summary: “You don't need to worry about anything like dying. I won't let anything happen to you," he says quietly, and it sounds like a promise.

You wait for the punchline. The part where he laughs it off as a joke, and then tells you to snap yourself out of it in a way you would’ve expected from him in the past. But he’s dead serious.

Notes: This is a series of one shots in the same univ with the same character, i just used the summary for the very first part

FUSHIGURO TOJI

(and your love is) standing next to me — shidouryusei (ao3)

Summary: “I wanna meet your son.”

You regret what you’ve said the second the words leave your lips.

“Why the hell do you wanna meet my kid?”

Notes: holy hell is this one of the best toji fics out there

BAKUGO KATSUKI

what heroes do — sugiwa (ao3)

Summary: Shouto didn't know much about his twin sister. She was an Edgeshot fan, had a raging collection of manga, and liked Natsuo the best.

She also wasn't supposed to be at U.A., but he sure as hell wasn't telling their father about it.

Notes: i am not kidding when i say that even tho this thing has almost 600k words (it's a monster!!), i have reread this so many times it's not even funny anymore

MIYA ATSUMU

WHITE NOISE — 1keshi (ao3)

Summary: you’ve always loved atsumu— that was the problem.

(alternatively, you force a therapist to listen to the story of how you fell in love with your childhood friend, because what else are you supposed to do?)

Notes: lovelovelove

You Found Me — Amy_Stark117 (ao3)

Summary: Miya Atsumu had his life goals set - volleyball, fame, and success. Nothing could stand in his way.

You threw all that out the window, simply by sitting next to him in class.

Life is really funny like that, isn't it?

Notes: 10/10

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

premonition of love — peacchy (ao3)

Summary: A day after the freak quick duo sneaks into Shiratorizawa campus grounds, Ushijima gets summoned by his school’s student disciplinary committee.

Rule breached?

Assisted Trespassing.

While he steps out of the office with more than just a case under his name, you (unknowingly) step into the affluent stratum of Miyagi’s controlled elite.

In a world of either-or’s, you’re caught in between.

And possibly something more.

Notes: yall listen before this, i was NOT an ushijima girlie. now, i am ;)) this ff also has a love triangle in it (ushijima x reader x sakusa) with alternative endings (though it's not completed yet)

Shoot the Ball — alkhale (ao3)

Summary: As captain of the dying Shiratorizawa Kyudo Club, you're sick and tired of the biased favoritism that goes to the showier sports. Especially the worst of them all—the boy's volleyball team.

You're determined to show the entire school how great archery is, get the funding your club deserves, and by the end of it all, make the entire school a fan of your archery.

You just didn't know you already had a fan from the start.

And he may or may not be captain of the one team on campus you have a personal vendetta against.

Notes: i love alkhale so much

LEVI ACKERMAN

1,000 Steps — BaddieCurlsXo (ao3)

Summary: You're being torn away to another world every new moon, unable to connect the dots or find any real meaning in your travels. That is, until one night you stumble upon a man with grey eyes and a green cape, who asks you, rather suspiciously, "what are you doing outside the walls?"

Notes: lovette

Death's Door — SongsOfApollo (ao3)

Summary: You spent years of your life under the guidance of Dr. Helfen, the greatest physician inside Wall Sina. Now a physician yourself, you work alongside him with pride: stitching up wounds, nursing the sick, and helping to save the lives of many. But after the Battle of Trost, rapid changes begin to take place, starting with an inquiry from none other than Commander Erwin Smith and Captain Levi of the Survey Corps.

You have heard many tales from surviving Survey Corps soldiers on what it’s like on the outside: to face a Titan, to feel overwhelming dread, to watch your fellow man perish in such an insulting, gruesome way. You’ve witnessed the effects of Titans on the people you’ve doctored. Now you are to experience the horror firsthand.

You are to join the Scout Regiment as their field surgeon, and you will do so under the direct command of Captain Levi.

Notes: one of my fav fics of levi

BUCKY BARNES

Vacant Mirrors — pilotisms (ao3)

Summary: Dr. Hart shares an office with Dr. Raynor.

You share a waiting room with Bucky Barnes.

Notes: felt like crying even tho the ending wasn't angsty

Safe with me — bitsandbobsandstuff (ao3)

Summary: When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

Notes: Holy freaking heck was this beautiful. The plot? Chefs kisses. The writing? Chefs kisses. Reader's personality? Chefs kisses. The romance between reader and bucky? CHEFS FUCKING KISSESSSSS.

In The Shadow Of Your Wings — emmagnetised (ao3)

Summary: Margaret Stark is five years old when the Winter Soldier comes for her and her parents. But she survives the attack and is returned to her brother, though she's left broken and traumatised. She grows with a promise she made to herself on the night of the car crash. A mission.

This is the story of Maggie forging herself into her own hero, into something that no one expects: The Wyvern.

Notes: if you're a delulu marvel stan and haven't read anything by emmagnetised yet, are you even a delulu marvel stan?? p.s there is also an alternative for this story, go check it out on the author's acc on ao3 if you're interested!

STEVE ROGERS

The Siren — emmagnetised (ao3)

Summary: Austrian-born Alice Moser is new to Brooklyn when she meets and befriends a small blonde kid called Steve Rogers. Years later tragedy puts an ocean between them. When they meet again everything is different - Steve is about to go to war, and Alice is going to make the SSR an offer they can't refuse: her services as an undercover agent within the very heart of Nazi Germany.

The path is already written. The whole world knows the stories of Captain America and the Siren. Or do they?

Notes: ISTG IF U DON'T GO READ THIS MASTERPIECE RN

LOKI

A Twist of Marvel — GeneralofLoki (wattpad)

Summary: Naomi Swanson is fresh out of college, working as an assistant in a small paper supply company and inhaling coffee by the gallons. When an accident knocked her out, Naomi woke up in a world she had only seen through screens.

Armed only with her phone and a questionable data plan, Naomi attempts not to be killed as she comes face-to-face with the Avengers, and so much more.

Notes: do not and i repeat do NOT underestimate this just because it's a wattpad story ;)) it's literally the best girl goes to alternative dimension story in the mcu universe out there!!

KLAUS MIKAELSON

descent — tothelakes (wattpad)

Summary (since the summary on this one is a little long I'll be giving a brief description instead): Rory, the twin sister of Elena, unknowingly dates Klaus, the terrifying hybrid determined to sacrifice her sister. When the Mystic Falls events start, cue the beginning of their tumultuous journey as secrets are revealed and feelings come to light.

Notes: this is probably the best klaus fic to ever grace the world of fanfictions.

[oonajaeadira]

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 4: Winter

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)/ Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. Old enough to have been an adult on Outbreak Day. Wyoming born and bred. Sheep farmer, easy-going but confident and self-sufficient. Likes to sing, not a great cook. Childhood friend of Maria. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: Mature.

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit. Canon-typical violence, bodily harm, death,  (blood, broken bones, knife wounds, shooting, blunt force) and PTSD.

Summary: Revenge comes calling and you work though it as a family.

A/N: Series set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although it does use some characters/elements from the second game.

I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to get to winter. This one was difficult for me to face writing for reasons that may be made clear. But it was very rewarding. <3

The air is thin and cold this morning, takes your breath and makes a show of it as you quickstep it down to the stables. The sun is just starting to make the frost sparkle and no doubt Goldie will be using up the rest of the firewood at the Roost today.

Good thing you have a Joel who’s ready to chop more.

Although he’s also a Joel that’s forgotten his tea, the “stuff with the things in it” that Willa gave him for the stiffness in his knees. With this cold he’s going to want it today on patrol and the last thing you think you can stand is the tug in your heart when he comes home complaining of the cold and the ache and you sitting warm and cozy with his thermos on the counter when you had the legs to trot it on out to him.

It’s a relief to round the corner and find the patrol party still at the stable gate, Tommy helping one of the teens with their rifle strap, and Joel waiting on horseback, weaving his gloved fingers together, packing them down at the valleys to get his hands all the way in.

He’d laid one of those hands on your cheek this morning. Gentle. First thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Like most mornings now. His thumb rounding the rim of your cheek so he could lean in and take a good long drink of a kiss.

He likes it that way…soft, slow. Likes to pull you in as close as he can, twist his forehead into your temple when he hits his peak, jaw clenched in agonized pleasure, kisses along your jawline when you find yours, his eyes half-lidded and watching you in a hazy awe. He’s quiet but thorough, completely  present like he can’t believe he’s got this little slice of warmth, sighs a hushed curse in your ear and calls you sweetheart in the same breath, and then sleeps like a baby the whole night through.

He doesn’t like to talk about the past much, but listening’s your specialty and it comes out in bits and pieces, stuck between the little he does say. You come to understand that he very rarely got to be very close with anyone while Sarah was growing up. There were the years when everything was a nightmare. Then there was Tess and she brought him out of that, thank goodness. But it took time. And there was also denial and survival and means to their ends. There might indeed have been strong love there. But you have the feeling he’s not had this–or anything like it–for a long, long time.

So if he wants it soft and slow, then who are you to deny him?

Maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising that it was him who pulled you in a little closer.

“What if you didn’t move in with Tommy and Maria this winter?” He’d lingered the morning after Christmas, leaning one shoulder against the frame of your bedroom door, savoring the show of you getting dressed for the day.

“And waste the fuel? Why? So we can cuddle up now and then without your brother down the hall? You keep me plenty warm, Joel Miller, but I’m not going to heat this whole house just for me and your more-than-casual visits. Everyone’s got a responsibility here to conserve in the winter. This is how I do my part. And besides,” you purred as he stepped in to button up your flannel for you, freeing up your fingers so they could run through his curls, “I know where you live and your bed’s good as mine.”

“You seem to like it there well enough.”

“I do.” His beard was growing in all but a patch on his jaw that was now your right to kiss.

“Well I was thinkin’ we just make it ours for the winter.”

His hands had circled your hips and his words had stopped your heart, but there was little for to say with his lips pressed against yours.

So mornings often started as they did today, waking to find Joel beside you, roused because you can feel him watching you with that little half smile that reveals the crack in his weary heart where the light shines through. Who needs spring to come with sunshine like that to turn to? Now there are family breakfasts with Ellie and cozy days knitting in the company of Maria and Riley and then warm nights with Joel on one of those pillowtopped mattresses that were all the rage before the outbreak…the ones that are great when you have a stiff back, but even better because the springs don’t squeak…

“Aw dammit,” Joel says when he sees you nearing the stables with the thermos, “Knew I forgot something.”

“Two somethings,” you say pointing to his bare head and passing your hat up to him in the saddle. “Your ears are already bright red. Here. Take my hat.”

“This’s Ellie’s.”

“Huh. Guess I just grabbed one on my way out. Oops. Be a man. Wear a pompom.”

He pulls it down over his ears and smiles. “Matches my scarf.”

You’d had a small batch of deep red wool you’d managed to squeak a hat and scarf out of and gifting the hat to Ellie around Christmas, but the scarf went to Joel. He may not want anyone to think of him as sentimental, but it was worth your while to make it easy on him by giving him something that was also practical. Even if he had his jacket zipped up all the way, it was always there, tucked around his neck; he may leave his ears to the elements but he never went anywhere without that scarf.

The line of horses start making their way toward the Jackson gates and you squeeze Joel’s shin before stepping out of the way, letting him and his horse follow the group. He simply lets a gloved finger glance your cheek as he passes by.

All the way out here on this side of the apocalypse and humans still have a million variations on saying “I love having you around and I’d like to keep it that way.”

________

“Ellie’s more than welcome around here if you and Joel don’t want to leave her home alone.”

Maria’s lightly bouncing a wet-faced and blubbering Riley on her lap, trying to tempt him with a frozen carrot for his teething. He has tommy’s curls and they sproing with every boing.

“Nah, she wants to come out. We’ll be dividing the ewes and driving part of the flock into the old town for the rest  of the overwinter and she wants to see how it's done. Should see it, if she thinks she’ll be entering the rotation at any point. Speaking of,” you grunt, leaning down to gather your knitting basket and gather your things, “I promised I’d meet her after school. She’s gotten into collecting cassette tapes and the commissary says she’s hit her quota on goods this week. Gonna give up a couple credits so she can discover the wonders of Joan Jett and the Beastie Boys.”

“That’s throwing gas on the fire. She pick those out herself?”

“Nope. My points, my choice. And I say that girl needs to fight for her right to party and put another dime in the jukebox, baby.”

Maria rolls her eyes, chuckles, goes light on the sarcasm. “You’re the coolest auntie.”

“Don’t I know it,” you laugh, tying up your boots.

“Joel’s gonna just love that.”

Leaning in to bop a quick kiss to Riley’s head, you give Maria a crazed grin. “So much.”

Ten minutes later, Ellie has her doubts, holding up a cassette at the commissary. “But there’s a dinosaur on this one! How can it not be great?”

“Listen, missy. I’m not saying Dinosaur Jr. doesn’t have a place in music history, but I’m telling you that you’re likely to be disappointed. Trust me. Just this once.”

Ellie makes a face but you glance past it, distracted by what you see through the window behind her. Following your focus, she turns to look too. “Who’re they?”

All of the patrol horses coming back in have two people on them–a member of the party, and a stranger. And all the strangers can’t be more than teenagers.

“Dunno, but it looks like you’re about to get some new classmates. I’ll sign these out. You go ahead and make a good first impression.”

“You’re just sending me out there because you know if they’re infected, I can’t catch it.”

“If they were infected, they wouldn’t be on those horses or inside those gates. I’m sending you out there because you have a way of reading people. Go.”

Something in that puts a gasp in her throat and a sparkle in her eye and her ponytail whips behind her as she goes, striving to live up to the compliment.

But really, you just want half a minute to take a good look at the kids without Ellie asking questions. They’re all scrawny and filthy. Backpacks. Been traveling and living rough for a while now. Where’d they come from? What’s their story? Not an adult among them. How have they survived? You’d swear something feels off, but that’s the world now. Can’t be too careful. Everything seems off all the time. 

Question is, off by how much?

You find Joel in the group; he’s the only one riding with a kid in front of him rather than hanging on behind. And once he gets down off the horse and reaches up to help his passenger down, you can see why.

She’s pregnant.

Shit. She’s what, fifteen? Sixteen?

Shit.

“There’s a house up near mine has good plumbing turned on.” Tommy’s speaking over his shoulder to the small group and leading his horse to the stable door as you come out of the commissary. “We’ll get you all washed up and fed. There’s at least two beds there and some other furniture fit to sleep on if it makes you comfortable to stay together. Give me a minute to put Lady away here and we’ll walk on up together. Joel? A word?”

Handing off the pregnant girl’s backpack to her, Joel takes the reins of his horse and follows his brother inside, leaving the newcomers to look around them and take in the town.

All but one. A girl with hair that’s neither light brown or dark blonde, somewhere in between. Your mother would have called it dirty dishwater blonde and you always thought that was rude. But your mother also would have said the girl had a hatchet of a face with a strong jaw like that. And it’s that girl whose head whips around the second she heard Joel’s name, quickly scanning the patrol to ascertain who belonged to it, and stands watching the stable door in thought long after the Miller brothers were gone.

Was Joel her father’s name? Her brother’s? Is it hers or close to hers? Is she a Jo or Joelle?

“Abby. Hey,” a boy calls and she turns. “Mel should get a bed and we can share. Manny and Nora can share too…if you’re okay with taking a couch.”

“Fine,” Abby says. Her eyes and mouth all unmoving lines.

“Hey. Welcome to Jackson. I’m Ellie.” Your starling jams her hands in her pockets as all the new eyes turn her way. “It looks like you’ve been wandering. Where you coming from?”

The boy who spoke before blinks and opens his mouth to say something, hesitates. You’d take him for the leader up until the moment Abby speaks for him.

“West of here. QZ. Seattle.”

“Oh. Cool,” says Ellie with a bounce to her nod. Easy. Instantly welcoming. “I came out of Boston.”

Seattle QZ. The same one your dead husband and his sister came from. Not a good place. Warring factions and nothing but oppression and disease, last you heard. Good that they got out. They’re gonna need to be de-loused. 

But Seattle’s also much harder than most zones to break free of. You’ve been told the Western Liberation Front makes FEDRA look like a bucket of clowns.

“Seattle?” Now it’s your turn to pull focus from the group. “We’ve had refugees from there before. You really get out of there in one group like this? With no grown ups?”

Abby rips her eyes away from Ellie. “It’s a long story,” she says, shutting the questioning down.

There’s a moment that hangs between you and that stinks faintly of threat, but is mostly just the smell of feral kids. Tension breaks as the men emerge from the stable.

“We all ready?” Tommy says, making his way down the road and waving a hand for them to follow. “New home’s this way.”

Ellie starts to fall in with the group and you pull her back in close, speak low. “Go with them if you want, but keep your distance.”

“What? Why?”

“These are your first refugees. You’ll learn that they sometimes bring things with ‘em.”

Her face screws into a question mark. “What things?”

“Fleas. Lice. Viruses. Just give ‘em some space for a while.”

After the quickest flash of disgust, Ellie’s tried and true compassion kicks in and she gives an understanding nod as she turns to go, tape cassettes clattering in her jacket pocket.

You keep watching her even as you speak to the owner of the hand snaking around your waist. “Where’d you find them?”

“Up at the old crossing. They were under attack.”

“Jesus.”

“Nope. Infected.”

“Been a while since we’ve seen any of those stumble through here.”

“Infected? Or the kids.”

Turning to him in exasperation you look him over. “Both. And the same goes for you as for Ellie, Foxy. Let’s take you home and wash that scarf and hat. Run a fine-toothed comb through that hair just to make sure.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he says, stopping when he catches your zero-temperature glare. If it’s something else you love about Joel, he recognizes when something’s important to you and answers a lady with composure and respect. “Yes, ma’am.”

____

“You couldn’t have found her some Cash or Fleetwood Mac or something?”Joel grumbles into the fireplace as he places another log on the coal bed and moves the poker around like he’s doing something.

Ellie sits on a blanket near the fire, reading a comic book, headphones on, Joan Jett’s grinding guitar bleeding out into the otherwise quiet living room. With his face turned to the fire and Ellie facing away from you, she most likely can’t hear the conversation that’s happening around her if you keep your voices low.

“You’re just jealous that she asked me to pick something out instead of you,” you smile on the couch, picking up your feet and swinging them into his lap as he sits down beside you. “80’s rock is good for her spiky little soul.”

“80’s means trouble,” he counters, considering her as his hands absently squeeze and rub at your feet.

You go back to your book. Seemingly anyway. It’s easy to steal observing glances from where you are. The thoughtful concern he has for Ellie. You can see him looking over the wood in the hopper and calculating how many days of fuel he has before you all head out to the Roost. A twist of a lip tells you he’s realized he might be a day short and needs to chop more. His gaze drops to his lap as he lightly massages your feet–just running his hands along their contours, pressing a thumb in here and there to tenderize a muscle. The firelight loves him, plays at the edges of his curls, slides down his nose, kisses the purse of his lips.

You jump as he slides a tickling fingertip up the sole of one foot. “Hey!”

“What you get for staring.”

“I wasn’t staring at you, I was reading.”

“Must be pretty small print you don’t turn a page for five minutes.”

Taking off your readers and closing the book, you sit up and deposit them on the coffee table. From here it’s easy to scoot up to him and lean an elbow on the couch back. “What’s got you so thinky tonight, hmm? You look like you’ve got your worry pants on.” There’s a curl right behind his ear that’s so easy to twirl in your fingers and you indulge. You’ve found a little touch helps him open up.

“I can’t help thinking about those kids, thinkin’ they could just wander out in the world like that. If it weren’t for us hearing the runners….” He goes quiet a minute and you let him, his gaze haunting Ellie’s direction but living somewhere in the past. “They gotta be somebody’s kids. I can’t believe Seattle’s so bad they just let ‘em run wild…let ‘em run away from the best you got for ‘em.”

A faint guitar blares from Ellie’s headphones as she flips a page, purses her lips, absently nods along.

“Yeah, well teenagers rebel, Foxy. That’s what they do.”

“No,” he says, softly, resolutely, a tick of his jaw. “Not all of ‘em. Not if they’re loved. And fiercely. And I don’t know a love that isn’t fierce.”

It’s the look on his face that makes you believe him.

Love isn’t a word that Joel bandies about. It’s easy to see it work in him. The way he tells Ellie no when she wants to do something reckless but promises her something just as exciting, going to any length to make her smile. The way he holds Riley’s head in the crook of his arm, his other hand reflexively coming out in defense if anyone gets too near the baby’s soft spot. The way he shoves his brother with a laugh when Tommy picks on him or how he helps Maria to her feet when she’s been on the floor too long, even if she says she doesn’t need it.

The way he… with you he…

His hands work at your feet again. He understands the minute levels of his strength, knows how firm to go without bringing pain.

With you, it’s the way he rolls over and shows you his soft places, invites you in to be a part of it.

Not really what you’d call fierce. Does that mean he doesn’t–

“Is a cherry bomb like a little bomb or a big bomb?” Ellie asks, an earpad pulled away from her ear and spilling Cherie Currie’s stuttered chorus.

“It’s a little one. A firework. But it packs a big punch. It’ll take your fingers off. Hello, world, I’m your wild girl, I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch cherry bomb,” you sing, pushing your foot against Joel’s thigh with every beat. 

“Alright, that’s it,” he says, wrapping a big hand around your ankle to secure it. “Ellie, run on up and get my guitar. Lemme teach you a better song.”

In the minute it takes for her to come back, Joel foregoes softness for force, tickling relentlessly, almost ending up with a foot in his face with how much you squirm.

___

Church isn’t really your thing, never was. You have your own way of listening to the beauty of the earth that doesn’t mean sacrificing a morning sleeping in to listen to lessons you’ve already learned and hold true.

But today you’ve come to the after-brunch curious to welcome the new residents and managed to show up a little early. So you’re standing in the back of the mess hall with Maria and Riley, waiting for the final hymn to end, for the preacher to call an end to the service and a beginning to the meal.

Maria leans in and murmurs in your ear as the final chorus comes. “Tommy and the crew are working on one of those bigger houses with the vaulted ceilings in the new district so the church can have its own building.”

“They’re not gonna like having to walk over there.”

She shrugs, adjusts Riley’s teething toy and bounces him up a notch. “Might cause some of them to move over there. Thin out the density. Easier on the power grid. We do have five new residents.” 

You watch as one of the new boys–Owen–helps the pregnant Mel to her feet. “Soon to be six.”

Once the kitchen starts serving, Owen and Mel find their way over to your table, eager to meet Riley and ask Maria all kinds of questions about childbirth and your friend finds herself in a mentoring role she didn’t ask for. She’s not opposed to being helpful, just lets her judgment slide through on the whole babies having babies thing which completely flies over the kids’ heads.

They’re good enough kids, but something tastes a little sour when Owen tries to include you in the conversation.

“What about you? You and…is his name Joel? You gonna have any kids?”

It’s a rude question. He’s earned your side eye and he knows it, but smiles through it, playing innocent.

“Already got one. One’s enough,” you laugh, sly, chewing through some boiled oats and letting him know you’re gonna let that one slide.

“Oh, yeah, right. Ellie, right?” he asks, with a flick of his eyes to a table behind you. Turning, you find Abby at a table with some other residents and when you turn back it’s with a dry expression that tells him he’s worn out his turns at beating the bush and should be out with it.

“We just were wondering if she’d show us around,” Mel explains. “She’s the only one of the children here who will talk to us.”

You snort. “Don’t let Ellie hear you call her a child. She’s short for her age, but she’s not much younger than you. She likes people, but that won’t win you any points.”

“And don’t worry about the other kids,” Maria takes over, shooting you a look. “They’ll come around. A lot of them were born here and they don’t see a ton of new people.”

“Are they not coming to the brunch today?” Owen asks.

“Who?”

“Ellie and Joel.”

Shaking your head, you swallow your latest bite. “Joel and Tommy are off getting some work done in the new sector and Ellie would bite my face off if I woke her up before high noon on a weekend. But she knows where you’re staying. I’ll send her around to you once she’s up and acting like a whole human.”

You’re about to change the subject and ask them a few questions of your own but Riley starts fussing and Mel asks to hold him and the whole baby talk starts up again.

When you look over your shoulder, Abby is gone from the table. Left her dish for someone else to clean up.

There’s a thought creeps in that maybe Ellie can teach them all some manners. And then you remember the mouth on your starling and smile.

____

“And Owen showed me some of his drawings and they’re so amazing. He’s like a fucking Picasso or something. He says he’ll give me lessons if I can get Mr. Scowlface here to take him out hunting. Says he misses hunting deer with his dad. And Abby wants to go too. I told her how you taught me to use a shotgun and she seemed really interested to learn. She might want to join the patrols some day. But I told them not this week since we’re going out to the Meadow and they all had questions about that. Abby especially–” 

Ellie has a remarkable talent for chewing and talking at the same time. She catches a piece of apple that escapes her mouth, slurping it off the back of her hand where it landed, then downs the rest of the milk and wipes her mouth with the cuff of her sweater, leaving you to negate your silent praise of her manners from earlier in the week and giving you a break in the chatter to speak.

“Well, you’re a little young to be recruiting your own Roostlings, but if Abby or any of the others want to come out sometime and see what the fuss is about, they’re welcome. I’d rather them wait until spring though, or at least until we get the whole of the flock back from the deep winter holding grounds. Chickadee’s taking up the caboose on that.”

As you push the carafe of chicory coffee toward Joel and clear the breakfast plates, Ellie snatches the last hunk of bread you left on yours, shaking her head. “Abby’s afraid of heights. Didn’t even have time to tell her about the Roost being up on stilts. What’s a caboose?”

Joel scoffs. “Last car on a train.” He takes a long, loud drag of his coffee, pouring on the annoyance to get a glare out of the girl and succeeds. “Well, if she don’t like heights, she’s not going to enjoy learning patrol duty either, not with the watchtowers and the mountain trails. And don’t go promising services you can’t guarantee. I’m not a scout leader.”

“What’s a scout leader?”

“Someone with a lot more patience than me. Get.”

Taking up her backpack, Ellie makes her way to the front vestibule to pull on her gear.

“Don’t forget your hat and scarf!” You call to her, but smile at Joel as you perch your butt against the table and tuck a little curl behind his ear. He’ll ask you to cut it soon. And you’ll put it off for as long as possible.Tickles, he'll say. I know, you'll say.

“Thanks, Gramma Betty!” she calls back and pulls the door shut behind her as Joel lays a warm hand on your outer thigh.

“What’er you getting up to today?” he asks.

You shrug. “I’m in carding mode. Got a whole bag of washed fleece needs combing. I’d ask you what you’re up to, but I assume you and Tommy are gonna be tearing down some poor old house.”

There’s a moment where he squints, thiinking. His thumb tracing the outer seam of your jeans. 

“I want you to come with me. Got something to show you.”

“Really. Well I like the sound of that. I could use a little walk in the bitter cold with a mystery at the end of it. Gonna have to go pull on a heavier sweater though. Might need to take this one off first. You wanna come watch?”

There’s a knock at the front. Tommy. The door opening.

Joel only grins fondly and pats your thigh, sending you off, before pushing the chair back from the table and separating himself from his coffee mug. “I’ll catch the later show. ‘Specially if it calls for audience participation.”

Five minutes later, bundled and booted, the three of you head out toward the new section, Joel with his scarf tucked in tight and hat pulled down low, and Tommy with a set forced upon him because you’re quickly becoming the winter clothing police around here.

It’s not a long walk. Jackson was never more than a few miles wide and this is just the first expansion of the wall. You’ve wandered over during the construction crew’s activities enough to know the way without being led, but what you’re expecting is for Joel to lead you away from the furthest street, away from the beautiful A-frame house so neatly repaired along with its pretty neighbors and up the street with Tommy to the next clutch of houses they’ve been working on. 

But instead, Joel tells his brother he’ll be along in a minute, and Tommy smiles knowingly as he continues on, leaving the two of you in the walkway up to the pretty A-frame that’s so much like the Roost’s bigger sister.

“You know what today is?” Joel asks, hands in pockets, squinting up at the peaked roof.

“Friday?”

“Probably,” he says, shifting focus to his boots. “I was thinking more holiday-wise.”

The air’s particularly crisp today, hitches in your lungs as you take each mental step and catch up with him.

February 14. Valentine’s.

As your mouth drops open, he jerks his chin at the house. “You like this one, right?”

“What…what are you….Joel?”

There’s a cringe that belies his confidence, maybe a tinge of regret. “I just figured we were gettin’ along so well, that maybe you’d… It was just an idea–”

He can’t even look you in the eye until you yank his hand awkwardly out of his pocket and wrap your gloved hand around his. He seems almost shocked to see your tears welling up–true, half from the cold–but he’s also relieved. Big breath in, big breath out. That must have been the hard part.

Words aren’t Joel’s way. This is how he tells you just how deep his feelings go. You know he’s had time to imagine with every window replaced, every floorboard leveled out, every load bearing wall reinforced,  just which family was going to get to live in this house and what kind of life they might make in it.

What kind of life you might make together here.

So you take his lead and say only what’s necessary, as steadily as you’re able. 

“Take me inside.”

His sheepish grin confirms that it was exactly what he’d hoped to hear.

The interior’s simple, but gorgeous. The dark wood gleams, and the whole back wall of the A frame is windowed. The triangle at the top replaced with a leaded stained glass in a sunrise of orange and rose that reflects the undertones in the timber inside and the pines out the window, the mosaic just high enough to catch the last rays that will come in over the mountains at the end of the day and turn the whole place into a dream. The open floorplan has the kitchen near the door, but over by the windows….

Joel gives the tour. The hand-laid stones in the fireplace. The built-in shelves for your books. This is the corner where your favorite chair can go, nearest the fire and where there’s good light for spinning. This rug was here, still good. He points out to the little shed in the back–a place for wool dying, he can hang pegs in there however you need them.

If he weren’t so occupied in explaining the wood he chose to finish the countertop, the way he followed the original dovetailing in the doorframe, the pattern he made with the reclaimed wood in the floorboards, he may have seen you admiring the most important part of the house…or, rather, the most important person in it.

There’s more. Two bedrooms, one off each side of the main part of the house, each with its own bathroom, the larger one with its own porch overlooking a little creek.

“The basement’s not quite done, but I figure I’ll just use that for my own. Felt you might not like the…vibe…”

Ah yes. The former owners. He took care of that too. 

He took care of everything.

“I love it, Joel.”

“Yeah?”

“If there was a stronger word, it would be yours, believe me.”

He only wraps his arms around you as you dive in to squeeze him.

“Good,” is all he says. Breathes in the scent of your hair. “That’s good.”

________

The ewes hate the leader ropes, but they follow, bleating now and then as you slowly guide them through the woods toward the Meadow’s north entrance. Joel’s got two behind his and Ellie’s horse, and you’ve got four behind yours, a small party, but the only ones that were ready to come on back out after the coldest weeks.

Goldie’s happy to lead them out to the rest of the flock while you and Joel go up and get situated, get warm, get ready for the week ahead. Ellie follows Goldie and Joel hangs his watch by the door. All’s quiet in the Roost.

Until Joel’s tongue clicks. “That beam is bowing,” he points up to one of the main rafter struts on the far side of the room. “Wood stove keeps this side warm and the snow melts off, but there’s no balcony on the other side. No way to rake the snow off the roof. Tommy should have known better.”

“Well it’s not like he’s had a lot of practice with big boy tree forts, I’m guessing,” you say, dumping a sack of potatoes near the cook pile and throwing the stack of fresh sheets onto the bed. “Does it need to come down?”

“Don’t think so. But come spring we’ll add on another balcony and do some reinforcement.”

As he runs his hand up the wall seam, you come up behind him, hugging him from the back with the sole purpose of distracting him, your way of letting him know he’s obsessing like an old man. It gives you the right angle to grab onto his open jacket and start pulling it off him. “Take this off and stay awhile.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Goldie takes her leave on your horse, guiding Joel and Ellie’s behind, glad to be going back to more warm water than she can heat on a stovetop, and Ellie helps to cart a few buckets of the colder variety up from the stream so you can all just stay in for the night.

Then it’s stew and cards, and Ellie kicking Joel’s ass at Scrabble, all of you bundled in wool sweaters and slippers handmade by you and Chickadee, the firelight glinting off the game tiles, highlighting the glee in the girl’s eyes, the resigned agony in Joel’s smile.

Almost a whole year now she’s been coming out here with you, and it’s wondrous how much she’s grown inside and out. You never felt lonely at the Roost, in fact, you had always very much enjoyed the solitude. Now you don’t think you could abide it. It’s only a home for a week at a time, but only when they come out here with you now.

It’s a nice night. Stars are out. Ellie’s still staring out at them as you and Joel fall asleep in the big bed.

_____

It’s the scent of woodsmoke that wakes you in the middle of the night, sitting you up straight in bed. Or so you think, except that the embers in the stove are low, so it can’t be that. 

No. It’s a voice outside.

“Burn in hell, Joel Miller!”

Is that…Ellie? What’s she doing outside? No. Not Ellie. No it’s–

“Abby?” Ellie says blearily from the bunk above you.

There’s someone in the room moving swiftly toward you from the windows, hulking, with a rifle–

Joel.

“Get up. Both of you. Get out. The place is on fire.” 

It doesn’t register.

“What? What fire? Joel? What’s happening–”

He shakes your shoulder, pulling you from the bed. “Get Ellie out. Now!”

There’s no other thought, just fumbling in the dark as Ellie jumps down beside you and dives for her jacket, shoving her feet into her boots without doing up the laces while you reach out one hand to catch hers for when it comes to you. The other gropes the near table for the walkie and thumbs the button.

“Meadowlark to patrol. Meadowlark to Goldfinch. We’re in trouble, there’s a fire and–”

The whole cabin sways. A gunshot from the balcony. Joel growling over his shoulder. “Get out! Now!”

“Joel–!”

“NOW!”

The ladder is still sliding down into place when you jump on it and ride it part of the way down, still waking up as Ellie’s boots come fast, almost kicking you in the face as she follows you down the rungs two at a time, moving through a plume of choking blackness only to come out below it to a roaring bonfire that’s eating through the Roost’s supports.

Oh god. The Roost…

is burning….

“JOELLLLLL!” you scream up as your stocking feet hit the ground hard, as you catch Ellie and pull her off the ladder and stumble backward, as something hits your head hard and causes you to let go, as separate sets of arms grab each of yours and drag you roughly backward, fast enough to keep your feet from catching up until you’re on your knees.

There’s a crackle in the air– “Patrol to Meadowlark. What’s the trouble?” 

The walkie lies somewhere in the pine needles just out of reach and you’re screaming at it for help but all that comes out of your mouth is a string of names and no’s and helps. You’re able to yank your non-dominant arm free, pitching forward, clawing for the radio, until a flash of hard silver–a meteorite, exquisitely dense and smooth, malignant, swift, direct–cracks down on your forearm with a sickening thud, shattering the bone.

The world slides out of focus through a screen of sudden pain.

At first, you assume you’ve been shot in the arm. But then a figure steps around to your line of sight. Abby. With a golf club? What? Why? Where did she get that? The commissary? Why the fuck would they stock golf clubs? What the fuck is going on? 

And you watch as Abby picks up the walkie. Tosses it into the fire.

The hands are back upon you now, forcing you back to your knees, and a third set joins them, wrapping around your forehead and chin, pulling you back against a belly and you struggle.

Where’s Ellie.

You’re able to twist your head to one side despite being held. She’s there on the ground, face down, groaning, with Owen’s knee in her back.

“Ellie? Honey?”

One pair of hands holding you twists you hard, meaning to pull you further away from her without compliance from the other hands or consent from your muscle structure and there’s a sickening pop as your shoulder leaves its socket and then your scream drowns out everything even the roar of the fire.

“She keeps it in her pocket,” Abby says. Rooting into Ellie’s pocket, Owen finds the knife and pulls it out–the one she cherishes, imbued with the legend of her mother, given to her on the same day as her name, her life, and her orphanhood.

The day Ellie told you the story, you’d taken steel wool to the knife and cleaned it. Oiled the hinge. Shined it up good and pretty.

It flips open easily in Owen’s paw. It twirls swiftly around, and points downward, his fingers closing over the hilt, thumb curling over the butt of the handle to give it more leverage when he’s ready to bring it down.

The night is horribly black and lit along the edges in orange fire.

There’s a loud crack. Owen’s thigh explodes in a splatter of blood and he falls backward off Ellie, screaming. The hands around your head let go and Mel runs to him.

Joel stalks out of the plume of black smoke, cocking the rifle, pointing only long enough at Owen to confirm he’s down and then swinging the barrel around to Abby.

A stand off. No sound or movement but the whoosh of flames and a few ground-muffled cries from Owen, a few sniffles and shushes from Mel.

“Who the fuck are you,” Joel growls out over the steel barrel, his cheek quivering in barely hinged anger.

Abby stands, solid, unyielding, straight as the blonde braid hanging down her back, club wound up tight, ready for the pitch, a face full of lines and soot and destruction.

“The last survivors of the Firefly massacre. You didn’t think to check the rest of the compound? Like the whole team was just one-offs? Like none of them had family, you sick fuck? You fucking orphaned us. Left us to fend for ourselves. Go ahead and shoot, old man. Marlene always said you weren’t so good at keeping kids alive, actually surprised you got as far as you did. So go ahead. Not like we’ve got nothing to lose. We just came to return some favors and finish the job.”

It’s only in the moments later, before the dawn, when you’re laying on your back looking up at the stars, one arm laying broken and useless in the snow beside you, the other cradling a weeping Ellie Williams as tight as you can, that you’ll be able to slow the film of your memory and play out the next thirty seconds frame by frame.

The series of snaps and cracks as the support under the Roost gave way and the whole structure tumbled out and away from the scene, pulling several pines down with it, the crashing and burning the only sound you remember now.

Ellie trying to shuffle along the ground toward you and away from the fire.

Owen pulling himself up enough to raise the knife and bring it down into the meat of Ellie’s calf.

Owen’s body flying backward as a bullet ripped through his skull.

A wrench of your neck and the warm splash of blood from above you as another shot rang out, one person holding you falling away and back, gone, but still pulling you down with their dead body.

The roar of an angry Abby and the clank of a club shaft on a rifle barrel.

Another gunshot.

The sound of metal hitting flesh.

Thirty seconds. And now you can see the stars. Orion. The Milky Way.

Somehow you’re lying yards from the little patch of burning trees with Ellie cradled in your good arm. Someone dragged you here.

There are voices and flashlights. The patrol. Bear and Tommy. Goldie and Willa and Chickadee.

And Maria. Laying on the ground beside you, exhausted from the effort of dragging two humans out of the burning thatch of trees.

“Joel. Where’s Joel.” It hurts to speak. Breath comes fast and shallow.

Then he’s there with the others, a bruise blooming purple beneath his eye, saying only what scant words he needs to move past them and get to you. To Ellie. 

His hands are gentle, but his eyes are cold.

Two still, black pools reflecting fire.

_______

Perhaps unsurprisingly, you dream of Troy, his mangled face open and bleeding, laying in the hole next to Ash, mutilated, stopped at the moment of transformation into something more sinister, your ex-husband and his sister lost to you because they were headstrong, foolish, too devoted to each other….

Ash’s eyes open, what’s left of them anyway. “Abby’s afraid of heights. Didn’t even have time to tell her about the Roost being up on stilts. What’s a caboose?”

They didn’t know the Roost was elevated. They followed us out here and didn’t have a good plan. Is that it?

They don’t answer. They get up and climb out of the hole, turn their backs on your and walk into the forest. You call after them, desperate to have them back after all this time, begging them not to leave you.

But you’re calling after them wrong. You can’t seem to say Troy. You can’t say Ash.

You’re only calling out for Joel and Ellie.

_____

The next thing you know, you’re sitting up in the snow, leaning against Goldie, the girl patting at your cheek as you’re coming around. “Come on, come on back, baby.”

The sun’s up, but not high enough to breach the mountains circling the meadow. Everything’s still lit by the slowly dying flames.

The one two punch of Willa setting the bone and popping your shoulder back in must have sent you off. Looking down, you see you must have thrown up as well. 

“Holy shit,” you groan, “I’m sorry. Oh my god, holy shit that hurts.”

“I know, I know,” says Goldie, smoothing your hair and kissing your forehead. 

“Here,” says Willa, handing you some dark root. You forget what it’s called, you just know you gotta chew. “Don’t swallow,” she reminds you. “You ride with Goldie. She’ll keep you upright once that sets in.”

“I gotta get up,” you mumble, struggling to stand and inhaling sharply at the twinge of pain the movement brings to your bandaged and immobilized arm. Goldie’s able to help get you up, but seems hesitant to let you go. “Ain’t nothing wrong with my feet, lemme go. Where’s Ellie?”

But you don’t need to ask, she’s just behind you, laying on her back in the snow, one arm flung over her eyes, breathing heavy to manage the pain, leg bandaged and tourniqueted.

Good. Next priority. “Where’s Joel?”

Goldie points to the fire. It’s starting to die down, enough to make out the bodies of three teenagers consigned to the flames. Past them, the group of the regular patrol. Joel shaking his head at them, speaking. Jacket zipped up to the top, no scarf, no hat; probably got left behind in the Roost. Rifle over one shoulder. A backpack over the other.

But not his backpack. Why would he have someone else’s backpack? Why would he have one at all…

He’s…. No.

Pushing off Goldie, you immediately find out that walking is hard. Even if the pain’s just in one arm, everything’s connected, everything hurts; it’s disorienting. Your knees are bruised and even your soft sleep pants feel like sandpaper on them. Feet cold and wet, no boots…

Joel sees you struggling to get to him and walks away from the group and the fire, meeting you partway, catching your good arm as your fist falls hard on his shoulder and yanks, fingers digging in hard to his coat, doing your best to hold on tight, to keep him here, to convince him not to go.

“Don’t you dare, Joel Miller. What do you think you’re fucking doing???”

He says nothing, only lets you collapse onto his chest, to sob. There’s not even an arm to comfort you, he gives you nothing but the bare necessity, a wall to keep you standing, and you know nothing you say will make a difference. In essence, he’s already gone.

“Please. Joel. Don’t. Please don’t go.”

“Trail’s fresh. Best to get on before it snows and covers the tracks. One of them’s the pregnant girl. One of them’s bleedin’. They can’t get that far.”

“You don’t have to. Just come home.”

“They’ll just come back. Maybe not soon, but someday.”

He’s right. You know he’s right. Stepping back, it hurts to look at him. The Joel you love has been asked to step aside, the care and fondness he’s come to show you locked up somewhere secure, somewhere where it won’t get in the way. 

I warned you, this Joel seems to say, void of emotion, jaw set, brow even and low, hand on the strap of his rifle. You took me in knowing exactly what I am.

He’s right.

“I need you here, Joel. Ellie needs you here. Don’t you dare go…unless you can come back.”

“I need you here too. ‘S why I’m going.”

Nothing. No kiss goodbye, no waiting for approval, he just turns and walks. 

Maybe this is the last of it, just one last loose thread, then he can finally leave off wandering, finally shake off the killer and just come home, just be your Joel.

Convincing yourself of this is the only choice you’ve got.

________

You find yourself out on Maria’s back porch that night. Unable to sleep from the ache of the mending bone and the swell of your assaulted shoulder, it seemed like the best remedy was to find the toughest jerky in the kitchen, to sit on the porch in the cold and chew through the pain, and to lean back in one of the porch chairs with a soothing snowpack between it and your back.

The moonlight plays illusions like the canteen filmstrips–a summer image of Tommy and Joel teaching Ellie the mechanics of tackle football. The twinkle of the fireflies lending veritas to the picture…which in reality is only the twinkle of a dusting of new snow.

Not enough snow to make tracking impossible, but enough to make it difficult.

The back door opens and a blanket lands over your lap.

“Was gonna ask you if you wanted company, but then I decided, it’s my house and you don’t get a choice.”

Maria plops her own blanket in a nearby chair before disappearing and returning with two steaming mugs of tea as offering for the table between you. She takes her time covering you just so before wrapping herself up and joining you on the porch. “Suppose I should have asked if you want that cold pack changed before I get too comfortable,” she says, not really offering, but leaving the suggestion there between you if you need it.

It’s not necessary to talk for a while. She knows exactly what you’re thinking. Sees what you see.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. Riley did,” she lies. You’d heard her shift when you got up from the bed–her bed, well, hers and Tommy’s. But hers and yours for now.

“Thanks for taking care of us.”

“You say that like you’re not my family.”

“Well then, thanks for staying behind as if you are.” 

It’s hard to see her out of the corner of your eye, backed by dark shadows. But the moon plays little crescents on her face, the curve of her nose, her cheek, her chin. Her voice comes out velvet from the dark.

“I know you’re pissed at Joel for going, but he’s doing the right thing.”

Now you make the effort to turn, rotating more from the waist than the neck to save the injury from twinging, but it does anyway, mirroring your spike in irritation. “Really? You think so? Is that why you sent Tommy with him? After all that time you spent bemoaning the things Joel made Tommy do all those years ago–”

“This is different. This is about the greater good.”

“You know that’s what the villain always says, right?”

She presses her lips together, hating that you’re right. “Okay, so maybe not the greatest good for the morality of the remainder of the human race, but. For the good of Jackson.”

“Two grown men hunting down two teenage girls is the greater good.”

“They won’t be teens forever. They’ve both got reasons to come back for their revenge. And now they know where Jackson is. They get taken in by the wrong people, and then the wrong people will know where Jackson is too and when they come back they won’t be alone. They’ll know exactly how many and what kind of folk to bring.” She holds your gaze for a few seconds, steady and wise but also warning, her warmth only thinly veiling the matronly protectress behind it, like a Durga on her throne. “You know why we have patrols. You know what happens to people that get too close. Two more drops in the bucket is all.”

“Three. One of those little girls is pregnant.”

She has no answer to this. Rather, your dig brings no new argument to the table. It’s just words, just a fact on the wind. It doesn’t sway the needle one way or the other.

It’s exactly what you’d been thinking about, staring up at her bedroom ceiling. Then out here on the porch. It’s like she knew you needed to hear the justification out loud.

“They would have killed him, lady. And Ellie. And you. I’m surprised you don’t want them hunted down like dogs.”

You turn your attention to the back yard, the smallest hump of leaves under the big tree there not quite scattered to the wind, sparkling with snow cover. You can almost still hear Ellie’s high laughter as it sounded the day she experienced her first leaf pile.

“Oh, I want them run down,” you say. “I’m all for that, let ‘em eat lead. I just didn’t want…” It’s not really necessary to continue. Maria knows exactly what you want. She always does. That’s why she sent Tommy with him. To keep him tethered to humanity.

To the way Joel watched Ellie jump and disappear into a poof of leaves. The sun in his smile. At peace. At home. Free from the old violence. Reborn.

I just didn’t want Joel to be the one to do it.

______

Maria’s dinner table feels empty. Funny, you think, it was always the two of you. For a while there was four, what with Troy and Ash, but most of the time just the two. Then Tommy. Then Joel and Ellie. Now Riley…well, that is, if he’s still up during family dinner.

You’ve slept through most of the light of day and was hoping to talk to Ellie at dinner, but Maria’s been taking all her meals to the guest room for her. Mostly so she doesn’t have to walk down the stairs on her healing leg, but also because Ellie’s not been talking since that night.

And you can guess why. It has less to do with the injury and assault or the fire, and more about the truths she learned during them. 

Not much to do. The arm has to stay stable, strapped to your body. At least they fucked up the non-dominant one so you can still hold a fork, still brush your teeth. But knitting? Spinning? Helping Maria clear the dishes? Fat chance.

Not much to do but chew root, smoke wild weed, and sleep it off.

Maria reappears with a plate needs washing. “There’s a break in the clouds. I got three whole words out of her. This might be your chance.”

“Oh. Joy.” It’s getting to be less of an effort to stand now that you’ve got rest and food in you. The stairs are daunting only because of the conversation that waits at the top.

A knock on her door only grants you silence.

“I’m coming in, Starling girl. Best not be naked.”

No answer. You take that as the opposite of opposition. Tolerance.

She’s sitting on the bed, propped up by pillows behind her back and under her knee, her bandages freshly changed, no more blood pooling or free bleeding. She plays with the cuffs of her sweater, tugging at a loop in the knit, a book abandoned by her side as if she’d put it down when you knocked. A good sign. She doesn’t want to hide.

You crawl in beside her, awkwardly, one-handedly, a big showy sigh of relief when you finally land. “You know, if I was your mom, I’d probably start off with ‘what’cha reading there, kiddo?’ just to get you to say something, but I’m not your mom and I’m not here to make you talk if you don’t wanna–”

“Well I don’t.”

“Good. I didn’t come up here to hear you yap anyway.” You detect the tiniest twitch of her cheek, not quite a smile, perhaps a sneer…to scare away a smile. “Don’t talk, just listen.”

“I don’t wanna do that either.”

“Tough titties. I’m cashing in exchange for all the time I had to listen to you go on about Sally Fucking Ride.”

Now she does smile. Barely. Gives you the teenager face you wanna slap sometimes. “Tough titties? Really?”

“They didn’t have tough titties in the orphanage? Seems off-brand.” The smile fades. “Tell me how you’re healing. I’m not asking, I’m demanding.”

A big breath in. But the air doesn’t come rushing back with a dramatic sigh, just melts out of her with a single tear she doesn’t move to brush away.

So you do. “That bad, huh.”

“It fucking sucks. It fucking sucks so bad.”

“Heh, tell me about it. I miss the good old days of ibuprofen. Shit. I miss morphine. You’re young though, you’ll be up and running in a week or two. Me? I’m gonna be aching for–”

“He fucking lied through his teeth.”

Ah. There it is.

Now the colony of tears follows the first scout, pouring out over the plains of her cheeks until she covers her face with those cuffs she’s been picking at, relieved at being able to let it all out in front of someone who might understand, but probably scared as hell to let herself be this messed up in front of someone who might not. A gamble.

And a win. You’ve still got one good arm and you put it to good use, pulling her into your side. “Yeah, you’re right. He totally did. He’s a fucking asshole. Why the hell would he do that.”

“It wasn't time that did it,” she hiccups from under her woolen cuffs.

“I don’t know what that means, Starling” you say, unable to stop yourself from kissing the crown of her head.

She wipes her nose and comes up for air. “I mean I know why. But he fucking lied about everything. Straight to my face.”

“Well, you’ve got every right to demand an explanation and an apology when he comes back. Straight to his face.”

“If he comes back.”

You let that sit a moment between you. It’s her way of saying that she knows you’re mad at him too, that she heard the conversation you had with him when he left. It’s her way of poking at your own fears and getting you on her side.

“Those girls aren’t armed and the Miller boys have a lot more experience with being hunters than those kids do being prey. He’ll be back.”

“I hate him.”

“I know. But also. You don’t.”

“I had a… a purpose. A fucking purpose.”

“Well….I know you did, but…probably not so much as you think.” She looks up at you but you can’t meet her eye, she’s right to mourn, and you can’t deny her that. “Remember what I told you about my sister and her treatments?”

“The research hospital.”

“Yeah. Cancer’s been killing people on this earth far longer than cordyceps and they’d had millions of patients to test on. Still couldn’t crack it. How many people are immune like you? Because if it ain’t millions, you just become one part sample in a petri dish and another part dead body that maybe give some vague clues and then you’re all parts in the bin, end of story. I mean, I’ll be honest. I don’t blame him. You’re quite a keeper.”

Now her sigh is dramatic. “And then he fucking lied about it.”

“So you would feel good about it. Accomplished in your goal. Also so you wouldn’t hate him for caring about you more than you do.”

“Why didn’t he just say–?”

“Do you know that man to be good with words?”

This quiets her. Both of you. For a few minutes. She goes back to picking at her sleeves.

The sun’s set completely now and her little bedside lamp can’t even drown out the stars so bright on the other side of the window. Clear night. Cold out there.

After a moment you take your arm back, jostle her with your shoulder. “Hey. I’m going out to the Meadow tomorrow, check in with Willa, look over the damage. If I bring you back a piece of the Roost, you wanna do some carving or whittling or something? We’ll build a platform like the old one and it’s probably just gonna be a tent up there for a while like it used to be, but hopefully this spring or summer we’ll get a structure up there and we’ll need a cornerstone or a plaque or something signifying its importance. Since you’re on your ass all day with nothing better to do, and you’re the star recruit, I’d love for you to do it.”

Her lips twist, half smiling at the request, but then in regret. “I lost my knife.”

“The one from your mom?” She nods. “Well if you’ll do some carding for me while I’m out there, I promise to look for it, ask around, maybe one of the patrol picked it up, okay?”

“Okay. Oh. By the way…How are you healing?”

“I’ve been worse. But mostly I’ve been better. Thanks for asking. ‘S kind of you. But don’t you worry about me.”

“Okay. Um…I’m…sorry about telling them about the meadow and all.”

“Why? You’re a Roostling. It’s your story to tell.” Sliding off the bed you head for the door. “Oh hey. I meant to ask–” you nod at the book by her side. “What’cha reading?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh…just porn.”

“Cool. G’night.”

“‘Night. Hey Meadowlark?”

You poke your head back in before the door closes completely. “Hm?”

“Thanks. For all that. But mostly for not calling me kiddo.”

You smile. Nod. Give her a warm wink. “Sure. I gotchu, kiddo.”

It’s worth the eyeroll you catch as you close the door.

________

The most sickening part of coming in through the north passage isn’t seeing the burn scar on the pine grove in the middle of the Meadow, isn’t missing the outline of the Roost through the trees, but rather the feeling that your home has been breached, that for a moment it wasn’t safe and now you’ll always wonder if it will be.

Riding across the north plain, you close your eyes and breathe, let the horse plod on without your guidance, he knows the way. Once spring comes and the valley fills with flowers and the music of the lambs calling for their ewes takes over from this cold silence that comfort will be renewed. 

But for now, there is no comfort on the Meadow in winter, not without a pretty little fireplace and a warm spot to watch the snow build up on the mountains.

You know what’s coming, but it turns your heart inside out all the same when you open your eyes.

Where once there was a cabin in the treetops is now a void leading downward to a pile of blackened rubble and debris. Off to the side under some lower trees is the old canvas tent with the vent hole and a friendly little trail of smoke rising from it. Willa always knew her way around a fire and didn’t mind keeping a low one going on the inside. You never were that confident, even with a fire-treated tarp.

She’s been at work out here, pulling useful things out of the rubble. The woodstove. The pulley jacks. A few timbers that are mostly unburned. 

But there’s a pile of other things too, useless items that shouldn’t be mixed back in with the earth: a burned walkie. Twisted silverware and blackened plates. The iron tools from the rafters. Shattered tile. Your charred and mangled boots.

All that’s left in the major wreckage is wood. And glass. And bones.

Three blackened skulls, three sets of eye sockets and three jaws gaping up at the sky as if they were caught in the moment of realizing their plans were going terribly awry. 

Stupid fucking kids. ….Just kids.

If someone asked you how you knew which one was Owen’s, you wouldn’t be able to say. You just know. The memory of him sinking that knife into Ellie’s leg…of hurting her…intent to kill… His skull breaks like a cracker when you put your weight on it.

Willa doesn’t say anything when she comes up along side to stare down at the bones with you. It's not the first time you've stood with her at the edge of a burned down home.

"I hate that it’s gonna take me a while to sift though all this,” you say.

“We’ve decided to skip your turn for a while. At least until there’s a new platform.”

You nod, resigned. You don’t love it, but it’s best. Trauma lingers longest of all hurt. 

“How’s the flock?”

“They’re over it.”

“Figures. Fluffy shits. Any chance you found a pocket knife out here?” You ask her.

She nods, reaches into a jacket pocket and there it is, like it’s been waiting to come back to its keeper, made itself shiny and easily found. It’s passed between you like a sacred object, holy, a relic saved and cared for, a thing infused with deep love and meaning. There’s an instant relief as your fingers curl around it, your shoulders relaxing and releasing a little of the pain.

“Thank you.”

“There was this too.” From the same pocket Willa pulls a disk of silver and glass, turning it over and placing it in your hand with the knife.

The watchband is burned away. But it’s otherwise unharmed.

Willa may be a stoic, but she knows enough to recognize a release through tears and to hold you while you cry.

Later that afternoon when you knock on Ellie’s door, you’ll hand her the knife and a piece of the old Roost to carve to consecrate the new one. And then you’ll give her the watch and ask her to be your hands, to help you with one more thing.

________

Two days later, you’re standing in Joel’s living room, never having been here when it’s so quiet, dark, and cold. With you and Ellie staying with Maria, there’s been nobody here to light a fire, to make the place live. You wouldn’t be here if Maria hadn’t made a side comment about maybe you and Ellie’d been in the same clothes for a day too many. Not that you thought you’d be with her that long.

She was right. It was nice to change into something clean–a soft fleece and some sleep pants. While the sword of Damocles kept things in check at Maria’s house, it did feel just this side of an extended girl’s night sleepover, might as well dress for it. Ellie had asked for something soft and comfy so you decided to go for it, an assortment of sweats and sweaters in the duffel at your feet.

What you’re eyeing at the moment is an empty hook on the wall by the fireplace.

You put your hand in your jacket pocket and pull out the watch.

Ellie did a beautiful job with it, took directions like a champ. Sitting together on her bed, listening to Joan Jett and Pat Benetar, you’d instructed her how to design the plaid stripes into the strap, how to knot and plait in patterns.

“Macrame. MACrame. Mac. Ra. Mayyyyyy,” Ellie’d chanted. “It’s a fun word to say. What’s it mean?”

“Fringe. Knotting. It’s just the name of the technique. I dunno. Probably something prettier in French.”

The strap clasps had been lost in the fire, so you’d had Ellie work him a new strap out of dyed and tightly-spun wool, something a little longer so he could tie it on. Most likely he’d come back here first, so you want to put it somewhere he’d see it, that way he could have it again without a lot of fuss but knowing at the same time you were thinking of him. So you slip the end loop over the hook, gently let it slip through your fingers and rest against the wall.

If he comes back…

The front door opens. Boots on the wood. The thump of a backpack.

By the time you’ve turned, he’s coming in through the front hall.

When he sees you standing here, he stops.

You never imagined this moment. You should have. It might have prepared you for the yellowing bruise on his face, the majority of his left pant leg browned with dried blood, his knuckles raw and just beginning to heal over.

You struggle with finding the right question. Find ‘em? They dead? Finish the job? No survivors?

I’d ask you what the hell you did, but I know and I don’t wanna hear you say it.

Instead all you can muster is a nod at the blood on his jeans.

His eyes slide to the staircase, already looking to move on, and he only answers with a short and shallow nod of his own before doing just that.

You find yourself sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, the duffel, the watch, back at your hands. Listening as he moves around upstairs, dropping boots, his belt buckle clapping to the floor. The shower running for a long, long time.

Sun’s going down. Getting colder.

The squeaks from the staircase are slow, softer than usual. He’s taking his time coming down. Doesn’t want to force himself back into a space so safe and quiet after pushing through one so big and mean.

He barely shifts the couch as he sits on the far side. Clean shirt. Clean jeans. A pair of socks you knit him.

“Where’s Ellie?” He sounds like he hasn’t spoken to anyone in days. You’d wager he hasn’t.

“With Maria. We’ve been staying there. I was just getting us some clothes. Didn’t think you’d be gone this long.”

“Neither did I. They had a head start. Younger. Faster. But you’re safe now. You’re both safe now.” He’s quiet long enough for the house to give a settling creak as the wind picks up outside. “How’s that arm?”

“Joel, you can’t keep us safe from the world. The world is what it is.”

“The fuck I can’t,” he whispers back, defiant, stubborn, with enough venom that he seems to scare himself and he breathes in deep, keeps it, holding back.

All you want is your Joel back. Even in all this mess. All you want is for him to lay down his fear and love you the right way. 

So instead of arguing, you get up and stand before him, give him the time it takes to understand you’re going to straddle his lap whether he helps you or not. He reaches for you on your way down, guides and supports you, allows you to rake through his wet curls before leaning in to take possession of his lips, to will him–by kissing through to his very soul–to come back to you.

He can’t help but respond, his whole body coming to life, and in the cold, twilit living room, you become a tangle of silhouettes as his hand pushes up under your sweater–somehow still keeping an aura of care around your ruined and wrapped arm–to squeeze almost painfully at your curves, rough and wanting, panting between devouring kisses as he paws beyond the waistband of your sleep pants, sucking at your neck when you throw your head back as he reaches what he was searching for….what you hoped he’d find…

There’s a tousle of repositioning and a clatter of belt and zipper. You’re both raw and rough and needy, and you both take advantage of the emptiness of the house to fill it with the sounds of desperation, of effort, the song of casting off of all inhibition, a duet of total and grateful release. 

But through it all, it’s the way he holds onto you that tells you how much he wanted to get back to you, how close he intends to hold you and never let you go, a desperation that tells you exactly where his faults lay…

…that it was necessary–and always will be–to eliminate any chance of someone taking you from his world by force.

It’s not so much possession as a fierce and burning need to be possessed. A need to belong, concentrated down to its basest form.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he softly kisses your temple, spooning you in the afterglow that burns bright in the darkening room.

“For what? You didn’t hurt me.”

“Rushed it a little. Tend to act before thinkin’ sometimes.”

You’re not completely sure what he means by that. At first you think he’s talking about the rough sex, but you get his meaning. Stalking off after Abby and Mel so impulsively. For being impulsive in general.

For acting out of trauma.

Or love.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to for that, Joel.”

You can tell the moment he understands when his forehead gently meets your shoulder. “Shit.”

It’s probably the best time to break it to him, while he’s still a little softheaded and euphoric. “She’s ready to listen. But I won’t promise it’ll be easy. It might just be you and me here for a while.”

Once his breathing evens out, he shifts, still holding onto you, but just coming back down, settling back in.

“What’s that?” He mutters, just on this side of falling asleep, lazily pointing at the watch on the hook by the fireplace.

“Your Valentine’s Day present. From both of us. Sorry it’s late.”

________

Taking some shifts off from the Meadow rotation affords you time to start slowly moving things over to the new A-frame, Maria helping you to load up a skid now and then and unload it, walking beside you as you lead the horse that tows it.

After a week or two, Ellie’s up and walking–well, limping, but healing–and starting to talk to Joel at dinner again. She’s on the verge of actually gracing his bad jokes with a smile or even a laugh, but she’s making him work hard for it. Good for her.

You haven’t asked either of them how the talk went. Don’t know if you ever will. That’s between them, the less you interfere, the better.

But you know that things are on the mend when you find Ellie playing Joel’s guitar–learning some Johnny Cash song you know he loves.

And you have a feeling that spring is on the way when you drop off another load at the new house and find a new frame on the wall–a handmade, custom carpentry display shadowbox.

With a watch hanging inside.

_______

PREVIOUS: AUTUMN

NEXT: SPRING AGAIN (coming soon)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

[emjayewrites]

The Fast Lane (A Formula One Series)(1/?)

SYNOPSIS: Jesenia joins the private, membership-based dating app Raya searching for a sugar daddy. Instead, she unknowingly finds her biggest “whale”: Lewis Hamilton, a famous Formula One racing driver.

PAIRING: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Jesenia "Jessy" Hart (face claim is @/loriharvey)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, cursing, explicit sexual content, not-so-glamorous life in the influencer/racing world, kind of pre-established relationship. RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @royallyprincesslilly, @mauvecherie-writes, @saintslewis, @peyiswriting, @hamiltonvuitton, @cocobutterqwueen, @qveenmelanink, @ashanti-notthesinger, @lewisroscoelove, @lovebittenbyevans, @lew1s-prix, @jasmindaughteroftheworld, @eugene-emt-roe, @apenasumlug4r, @simpfortoomanymen, @roseseraj, @alika-4466, @httpsserene, @queenshikongo3, @cherry2stems, @non-stop-imagines, @anubisnoir @myescapefromthislife @chaneajoyyy @yeea-nah @mitruscity @lewiscrown @weetjy @a-moment-captured @sugardontbesweet @shaytheeprettiest @livinglifethroughfanfic @blveeeeeee @formula-hamilton @purplelewlew @trinitoldyouso @slytherinjimim3nthusiast @certifiedlesbianbaddie

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first time writing for Lewis Hamilton. I'm new as fuck to the Formula One fandom, so please be nice! And Jessy is basically me in written form because I barely know anything besides Lewis is fine as hell. Please let me know if you wish to be added/removed from the taglist. Anyways, enjoy! Dividers by @inklore!

P.S.: You’re going to hate the main character at first but trust me, you’ll grow to love her.

CHAPTER ONE: The Gospels of Jessy

It took almost a month for her Raya account approval, but once it happened, Jessy found herself swiping mindlessly whenever she had the chance. On a break from content planning – swipe. Bored in a meeting with her agents – swipe. Downtime at a brand event – swipe.

For the next few months, she found herself swiping, starting a conversation, going out on a date or two, maybe another date, then ghost.

Rinse, lather, wash, repeat.

The process was tiring, exhausting, going on and on without an end in sight, however, Jessy always enjoyed a challenge.

Her job as a model and designer afforded the life that requires constant travel to exotic places and being invited to the who's-who of events, yet despite this, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else foot the bill once in awhile for a non-brand trip and actually relax rather than worry endlessly about content.

To her, at this point of her life, being in a traditional relationship seemed impossible. Everything was transactional, so why should she devote her time and energy catering to a man who would presumably cheat on her anyways?

Her taste was akin to Chanel, not recent season Chanel, but vintage. Old luxury, with vacations to the Amalfi Coast and the Greek Islands via private yacht and the scent of Baccarat Rouge 540 flowing lazily in the air. Jessy's hectic upbringing led her to yearn a life of leisure, comfort, and stability. And she be damned to become just another baby mama to another ball player, no offense to her sister or mother. That stereotype, let alone overexertion on one's body, never made her want to jump on some random man's penis and sustain her livelihood solely on child support payments.

Fuck that.

Jessy aimed for investments — real estate, ideally, but she'd accept dividends and stocks as well. Along with her model/influencer income and sales from her swimwear brand, Silver Doe, she'd be able to have enough for the daily bits and her "retirement" plan.

She knew the sugaring game like the back of her hand. She knew what men liked, what they craved. Men were basic creatures to understand.

They wanted someone fuckable.

Someone that they could fuck and what others dream of fucking; arm candy if you will. Sure, a man may have a nice personality and manners, yet that was the key component of any relationship, at least according to the Gospels of Jessy.

Childhood trauma forced her to grow up fast and learn the intricacies of the world at a tender age. Her life carried on on two simple things to not fuck up: the bag and the gist of it all.

And when it came to this life as a sugar baby, she lived by those two things religiously.

The Gospels of Jessy. May we bow our heads in prayer.

Soft skin. "Clean girl" makeup. Fresh manicure and pedicure. Styled hair. Dressed to the nines.

These were the things that every man wanted his woman to have. And Lewis was no different.

Suffice to say, he'd never overtly say it, but Jessy knew what he expected and what was expected of him.

A man of his stature, his fame, needed to have a high-caliber woman on his arm. He needed a woman that was just as ubiquitous as he was.

This was her mantra. A checklist to ensure her place on his arm, to remain the focal point of jealousy among both men and women. Luckily for her, like all penis-having beings, Lewis had a tangent for beautiful women, and like all women looking for their comeuppance, Jessy played into that until she had him hook, line, and sinker.

It happened almost a month ago, during a rather boring conversation with a potential sugar daddy at Sexy Fish in Miami.

The guy was rich, balding, and slightly obese. Besides his multimillion-dollar fortune, he had no redeeming qualities. The conversation was just like him: bland and stale. When she got that message on Raya from Lewis, she felt as though it was a sign from the Lord above.

She didn't know fuck all about Formula One or professional racing, but she understood net worth and assets, which was something Lewis had an abundance of. His initial message was cute and straightforward, commenting about how attractive she was and if she had any downtime in the next few days for a date.

Of course, Jessy played coy at first, pretending to not know who he was and playing into his ego. In reality, she had already googled him the moment she saw his profile on Raya.

But Lewis seemed unfazed by her disinterest in his fame and wealth. It only made him more interested in her.

After some back-and-forth messaging, they agreed to meet for a casual late lunch at a trendy restaurant in downtown Miami. Jessy made sure to dress to impress, choosing a body-hugging red dress that showed off her curves and long, toned legs.

When she arrived at the restaurant, she spotted Lewis immediately. He was even more handsome in person with his charming smile and sharp jawline. As soon as he saw her, he stood up from his seat and pulled out her chair for her.

"Jessy," he said in an attractive British accent, smiling warmly as he kissed her hand gently. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Jessy replied with a flirtatious grin. She could tell right away that this was going to be an easy mark. He was shorter than the usual type of man she goes for; without her heels, she was only an inch shorter than his height of 5'9, but she decided to not let that be an issue. She was used to manipulating men of all shapes and sizes, and Lewis would be no different.

Lewis ordered her a bottle of expensive wine before even looking at the menu.

"You don't drink?" Jessy asked Lewis with a perplexed stare as she sipped on her glass of wine.

"Nah," Lewis replied in a deep timbre, chuckling. "I decided to give that up last year to gain more clarity. Being a vegan helps with that too."

Jessy raised an eyebrow, impressed by his discipline and self-control. She hadn't expected him to have such a strict lifestyle given his wealth and fame.

"So...you don't have any vices?" she wondered. "I'm not sure if I've ever met a man who doesn't have at least one."

Lewis laughed lightly and ran his fingers through his braided hair. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm completely free of vices, but I do my best to control them," he replied. "My main ones are racing...and something that's probably not appropriate to discuss at the moment."

Her mind immediately caught on to what he was suggesting - he had a strong sexual appetite.

So he's a freak, interesting.

Jessy nodded, intrigued by this side of Lewis. She had assumed he would be like many other wealthy men she had encountered – indulging in excess and living for the moment.

"What about you?" he asked her, leaning forward slightly with interest. "Do you have any vices?"

Jessy smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "I think my biggest vice is shopping," she confessed.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, amused by her answer. "Shopping, huh? I wouldn't have guessed," he replied with a smug grin.

Jessy shrugged nonchalantly. "I just love nice things," she said. "But I also have a few other...vices." She leaned in closer to Lewis, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Oh really?" Lewis asked, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity. "Do tell."

"Well, let's just say I have a bit of a wild side as well," Jessy said seductively. "I enjoy experiencing new things and pushing boundaries."

Lewis chuckled, reveled by her boldness and confidence. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to her already.

"I can definitely appreciate a little wildness," he said with a wink.

They spent the rest of their lunch laughing, flirting, and getting to know each other more. They talked about everything from their favorite foods (Lewis loved hummus) to their childhoods (Lewis grew up in England while Jessy grew up in Miami).

As they finished their meal, Lewis suggested they take a walk around the city and explore some local shops. Jessy eagerly agreed, excited for the chance to spend more time with him.

They strolled through the busy streets of Miami, and Jessy couldn't help but notice that some people recognized him and whispered as they passed by. She was kind of used to being in the spotlight herself, but being seen with someone as famous as Lewis was definitely different.

"Are you used to all this attention?" she asked casually as they walked hand in hand.

Lewis shrugged nonchalantly. "It's part of the job," he replied. "But it can get overwhelming at times."

Jessy nodded sympathetically, understanding the pressures of fame all too well.

After browsing through several stores and trying on various outfits (with Lewis eagerly giving his opinion), they decided to call it a day and head back to their cars.

"This was fun," Lewis said as they stood outside his car. "We should do it again. I'll have some free time after the race and I would love to hang out with you again, if that's okay."

Jessy returned his smile, saying "That sounds good to me." Interested in spending more time with her, Lewis probed further, asking, "What about next week too? I'll be passing through Los Angeles for a day or two and I could fly you out to join me."

"Really?" she asked, trying to contain her excitement.

Lewis smiled, noticing her reaction. "Yeah, it would be nice to have some company while I'm in LA," he said.

Jessy couldn't believe her luck. "I would love that," she said eagerly. "Thank you for offering."

"It's my pleasure," Lewis replied, his gaze lingering on hers. "I'll make sure you have a great time."

They exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up in Los Angeles the following week.

And as they say, the rest is history

A few weeks later....

"No, Noelle, I'm telling you, it's not like that," Jessy insisted, her voice laden with sternness. She paced back and forth in her expansive apartment, the phone pressed tightly against her ear, as she packed for an upcoming trip. "Noelle, we're just having fun. Plus, he's always surrounded by beautiful women. I doubt I'm anything special to him."

After spending more time with Lewis in Miami and in Los Angeles, he invited her to the Monaco Grand Prix in Monte Carlo. If Jessy played her cards accordingly, Lewis would be wrapped around her finger. Jessy visited Monaco before, yet this would be the trip of a lifetime. Lewis already informed her that they had a day planned sailing on his yacht, so she could only imagine what else was in store for her.

Noelle sighed on the other end of the line. "Jessy, you have to be careful. Lewis sounds charming as fuck, and you know how these things go. He might catch feelings for you, and then what?"

Jessy paused for a moment, considering her friend's warning. Noelle had always been the more cautious one. "I appreciate your concern, but I think we can handle it," she replied confidently. "We're both adults, and we know what we want."

Noelle remained skeptical but decided to drop the subject for now. "Alright, just promise me that you'll keep a level head about this. The media is already speculating about you two hanging out together in Los Angeles, not to mention his fans..."

"Girl, I'm telling you, it isn't anything to worry about," scoffed Jessy. "He just acting like he's that nigga because I gave him head. If anything, he owes me for my services."

Noelle couldn't help but laugh. "Jesenia, girl, you sound like a ho!"

"Shit, a rich one at that," mused Jessy as she looked around her apartment. It may not be the penthouse, but it still had amazing views of the beach and city. Her closet was filled with designer clothes and accessories. She knew she was blessed but always wanted more. And if that meant using Lewis for money and material things, then so be it.

Noelle let out more uncontrollable laughter. "Period, Jessy-poo!" She spoke again, her tone more serious this time. "Okay, but just remember to protect yourself emotionally. It's easy to get caught up in the fantasy and forget that it's all transactional."

"I know, Noelle," Jessy replied, her voice tinged with determination. "I'm on my City Girls shit right now, and I'll be damned if another nigga tries to ruin it."

"If you say so," Noelle sighed, still unconvinced.

With their conversation coming to an end, Jessy hung up the phone and continued packing for her trip to Monaco.

Jessy couldn't believe her luck as she stepped off the private jet and onto the tarmac in Monaco. She was greeted by Lewis's team, who whisked her away to Lewis' homes in Monte Carlo, where she would be staying for the next few days. As soon as she entered the home, a wave of excitement and nervousness washed over her. This was it - her chance to make a lasting impression on Lewis and solidify their arrangement.

But as she looked around at the lavishness of his home, Jessy couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Noelle's words echoed in her mind - reminding her that this was all transactional. She took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts aside. This was an opportunity that many girls dreamed of, and Jessy wasn't going to let it slip away.

That night, Lewis took Jessy out on a lavish dinner date at one of Monaco's finest restaurants, COYA  Monte-Carlo. As they made their way through the city, Jessy couldn't help but feel like a million bucks. The streets were lined with luxury cars and high-end boutiques, and the air was filled with excitement for the upcoming race. A couple of paparazzi followed them as they walked, snapping pictures of Lewis and his beautiful companion.

Once they arrived at COYA, Jessy's jaw dropped. The restaurant was even more lavish than she could have imagined - adorned with opulent decor and filled with an elite crowd. Lewis led her inside, where they were quickly ushered to their private table overlooking the harbor.

As they perused the menu, Lewis shared stories about his previous races in Monaco and his love for the city. Jessy listened intently, hanging on to every word he said. She couldn't believe how down-to-earth he seemed despite his fame and success.

"So, tell me more about yourself, Jessy," Lewis said, placing his menu down and giving her his full attention. "How did you get into designing?"

Jessy smiled, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at the thought of opening up to him. "Well, like I mentioned, I grew up with my mom, sister, and my stepfather," she began. "I've always loved fashion, so I pursued that as a career. But it's tough trying to make it in the fashion industry."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "I can imagine. It takes a lot of talent and hard work to make it big."

"Yeah," Jessy nodded. "But I won't give up on my dreams." She paused for a moment before asking, "What about you? How did you get into racing?"

Lewis chuckled. "It's actually a funny story. My dad was a mechanic and always had cars around the house. When I was eight years old, I asked him if I could drive one of them - just for fun." He shook his head with a laugh. "I ended up crashing into our neighbor's fence."

Jessy couldn't help but laugh along with him. She could picture young Lewis behind the wheel of a car, determined to drive like an adult.

"But my dad saw something in me," Lewis continued. "He started teaching me how to race properly, and from then on, I was hooked."

"That's amazing," Jessy said sincerely. "And now look at you - one of the most successful racers in the world."

Lewis smiled humbly. "I'm grateful for all the opportunities that have come my way."

As soon as the waitress approached, Lewis confidently took charge and ordered their meals, flawlessly selecting both vegan and non-vegan options from the menu. Jessy admired how effortlessly he made decisions for her, and couldn't help but smile at his assertiveness.

"I hope you don't mind," Lewis said, turning to Jessy. "I just wanted to make sure we could try a little bit of everything."

"No, not at all," Jessy replied gratefully as she bit her lower lip. "I find it incredibly attractive."

"Do you now?" Lewis grinned mischievously. "Well then, I'll have to make sure to keep it up."

"Mmm, you definitely should," she whispered seductively.

Their plates arrived quickly, each filled with a delicious array of Latin American dishes that left Jessy speechless. As they ate and talked, it felt like there was no one else in the world but them. They laughed and joked like old friends, and Jessy felt herself starting to let go of her reservations.

Lewis continued to impress Jessy with his knowledge of different cuisines and cultures. She was surprised to learn that he had traveled around the world for races and had developed a love for trying new foods.

"I've always wanted to travel more," Jessy admitted as she took a bite of the broccoli sprouts on her plate.

"Well, maybe you can join me on some of my trips sometime," Lewis suggested with a hopeful smile.

As she swirled her straw in her colorful cocktail, she couldn't help but feel a wave of self-doubt wash over her. "I don't want to be a burden," she said, taking a cautious sip. "What if I distract you or something?"

But Lewis just laughed and shook his head. "Trust me, you won’t be, the company would be nice. It’s just me and my drooling bulldog, Roscoe. And he's not much of a conversationalist." He flashed her a reassuring smile. "You should definitely come if you can."

After a few moments of contemplation, Jessy responded, "I'll need some time to consider that." As much as she wanted to travel with Lewis across different countries, she had to be practical and take into account her business commitments.

Lewis seemed to sense her hesitation and reached for her hand across the table. "Take your time, Jessy. I don't want you to feel pressured into anything."

Following their meal, Lewis chauffeured Jessy around Monaco in a car - showing her all of his favorite spots including the famous Casino de Monte-Carlo and Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo. Everywhere they went seemed more extravagant than the last.

Sunday morning....

Jessy stepped out of the car, her heart racing with anticipation. The intoxicating scent of high-end perfume and the distant roar of engines overwhelmed her senses. This was her first time at the Monaco Grand Prix, and she couldn't believe that she had been invited by none other than Lewis Hamilton himself.

She made her way towards the entrance of the Paddock Club, and Jessy couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous energy coursing through her veins. She had spent hours fussing over her outfit, wanting to make sure she fit in with the glamorous crowd that frequented this prestigious event.

Her simple yet chic outfit clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her natural beauty. Her heels clicked confidently against the pavement as she followed Mercedes' team coordinator, Stephen Lord, whom everyone affectionately called Stevo.

Inside the Paddock Club, the atmosphere was electric. The clinking of champagne glasses mingled with excited chatter as race enthusiasts and high-profile guests mingled around the room. Jessy couldn't help but feel a little out of place. After all, she was just a small business owner and model from Miami.

Stevo guided Jessy to a secluded table in the corner of the upscale club. As they approached, two tall and attractive men stood up to greet them and they smiled at Jessy.

"Alright, here we are Ms. Hart," said Stevo with a kind smile. "Please let me know if you need anything else. Don't forget to check out the Mercedes garage later."

"Thank you, Stevo," Jessy replied, returning his smile. "And please, call me Jessy."

Stevo chuckled at her request before turning to face the two men. "How are you gentlemen doing? Can I get you anything?"

"We're all set, mate," replied the taller man in a deep British accent. His double-breasted pink suit exuded confidence and style, while his friend sported a lavender ensemble with equal flair. After exchanging fist bumps with Stevo, he turned to Jessy with an intrigued expression. "So you're the woman that got my best friend goin' wild."

Jessy couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the attention. "I don't know about all that, but Lewis and I are enjoying each other's company."

"Mmhmm," agreed the other man with a slow nod as he took a delicate sip of his champagne. "My name is Daniel, but everyone calls me Spinz." He extended his free hand for Jessy to shake, and she reciprocated with a firm grip that seemed to surprise him. He jokingly winced at the grip and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl, no wonder Lewis got a liking to you. Grip hard as fuck."

Jessy laughed at the playful comment. "Thank you, I do try."

"And I'm Miles," Mr. Pink Suit smiled. "Lewis told us to watch over you, and make sure you have a good time."

"More like threatened us," added Spinz with an eye roll, eliciting a playful slap on the back from Miles.

Jessy found it amusing that Lewis would feel the need to "threaten" his friends into ensuring her enjoyment at the club. From what she had seen so far, he was nothing but kind and laidback, but perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

"How about we head upstairs to the Terrace?" Miles suggested.

The group made their way to the Terrace, an exclusive rooftop area of the Paddock Club with breathtaking views of the race track. As they settled into a cozy corner with plush couches and fans to keep them cool, Spinz poured Jessy a glass of champagne.

"So, Jessy," he began, leaning in with a curious expression. "How did you and Lewis meet?"

Jessy took a sip of her drink before answering, pondering about how much she should divulge. "He reached out to me on social media after seeing that I was in Miami around the time of his race. We chatted for a bit and he invited me out for lunch one day."

"Ah, so he slid into your DMs?," teased Spinz with a smirk.

Miles laughed at the comment while Jessy lightheartedly rolled her eyes. "In my defense, I didn't think he actually did; I thought it was a scam."

"Well, I'm glad he did," said Miles sincerely as he clinked his glass against hers.

"Yes, we all are," added Spinz with a grin.

Jessy couldn't help but feel touched by their genuine interest in her relationship with Lewis. They were both clearly very important people in his life and she was grateful that they seemed to accept her without hesitation.

As they continued chatting and getting to know each other, Jessy couldn't ignore the constant glances and whispers from other guests nearby. She had expected some attention being with Lewis Hamilton's friends, but it was starting to make her uncomfortable.

Sensing her discomfort, Miles sent her an assuring glance. "Ignore them, love. They're just jealous."

Jessy smiled gratefully at him before turning her attention back to Spinz who was telling an outrageous story about his latest party antics.

As the conversation carried on into the afternoon, Jessy found herself feeling more and more at ease with Miles and Spinz. They were incredibly funny and easygoing, making it seem like she had known them for years. She couldn't have asked for better company to spend her first Formula One race with.

After Lewis' disappointing loss, the trio made their way to the Mercedes garage to wait for him.

"Hey there, lovebirds," he joked. Despite looking a bit worn out, Lewis still had a smile on his face. "Looks like you guys are having a good time."

"Always," replied Miles with a grin as he and Lewis exchanged a friendly fist bump.

Lewis then walked over to Jessy and wrapped his arms around her. "How's everything going? Did you enjoy yourself?"

His sudden display of affection in front of his friends caught her off guard, but she quickly relaxed into his embrace. Jessy couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, thank you for introducing me to your friends. They're great company. I'm sorry about what happened today, baby."

"I'm glad. And thank you, I needed that," replied Lewis before turning to Miles and Spinz. "Thanks for looking after her, fellas."

"No problem, bro," said Spinz with a laugh. "We'll give you some alone time now."

After some more playful banter, Lewis took Jessy's hand and led her away from the group.

"Where are we going?" asked Jessy as they walked through the busy Mercedes garage.

"Just wanted to show you where all the magic happens," replied Lewis with a wink.

As they strolled through the bustling garage area filled with F1 cars being worked on by mechanics, Jessy felt amazed. She had never been this close to a race car before.

"Wow, this is incredible," she said as she ran her fingers over the sleek and aerodynamic body of the car.

Lewis chuckled. "I knew you'd like it."

He gave her a tour of his car, explaining how everything worked in detail with passion and excitement. Jessy found herself getting swept up in his enthusiasm as he showed her the complex steering wheel and pointed out all the different buttons and switches.

"It's amazing how much goes into it," she said in awe.

"It takes a lot of skill to be able to race one of these babies," replied Lewis with a grin.

Jessy couldn't help but feel proud of him for all that he had accomplished in his racing career. It was clear that he was truly passionate about what he did.

As they continued their walk around the garage, Lewis introduced Jessy to some of his team members and mechanics who all greeted her warmly. She could see why Lewis loved this team so much - they were like a big family.

Eventually, they made their way back to Lewis' home to relax before dinner with his friends.

Suddenly, Jessy yawned and stretched out on the couch, placing her head on Lewis' lap.

"Tired?" asked Lewis with a smile.

"A little," she admitted. "It was a long day, but I don't want to miss dinner.

Lewis chuckled and pulled her closer to him. "Well, how about we take a quick nap before dinner?"

Jessy felt grateful for the chance to rest. As she lay in Lewis' bed, she couldn't help but notice how comfortable and familiar it felt, even though it was her first time visiting his home.

She drifted off to sleep easily, feeling safe and content in Lewis' arms.

When she woke up a couple of hours later, Lewis was lying next to her with his eyes closed. Jessy watched him for a moment, taking in his peaceful expression. She couldn't believe that this handsome and successful man was hers.

At least to some degree, she thought.

Feeling a surge of affection, Jessy gently brushed some braids out of Lewis' face and leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips.

He opened his eyes with a smile and pulled her closer for a deeper kiss. "Hey there," he said huskily as they broke apart.

"Hi," replied Jessy with a grin. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," said Lewis as he caressed her cheek. "I'm glad you did."

He pulled her in for another kiss and as it deepened, Jessy felt Lewis' hands begin to explore her body, gently caressing her shoulders and neck, then slowly moving downward, tracing the curve of her back.

In response, she leaned into him, arching her back slightly, inviting him to continue. Lewis' fingers gripped the fabric of her top, pulling it up and over her head ever so slightly, revealing her smooth skin. His touch sent shivers down Jessy's spine, igniting a fire inside her. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan as their lips continued to move in sync.

Breaking the kiss, Lewis looked into Jessy's eyes with a hunger that made her heart race. Without saying a word, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it aside.

Jessy's skin flushed with heat as Lewis took in the sight of her bare chest. He leaned down and began kissing and nibbling on her breasts, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Her hands found their way to his shirt, tugging at it impatiently. In one swift motion, Lewis removed his shirt and threw it across the room.

Their bodies pressed against each other as they explored each other's skin with their hands and lips. Jessy could feel Lewis' arousal against her thigh and she couldn't resist running her hand down his chest to feel him fully.

With a low groan, Lewis pulled back slightly and looked into Jessy's eyes again. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes, baby," she affirmed, guiding him onto his back. Jessy helped ease him out of his pants and underwear before eagerly tending to him.

Although she had been intimate with Lewis before, he always waited for her signal before proceeding to anything sexual. It was a sweet gesture that showed his respect and consideration for her comfort. But sometimes, Jessy just wanted to jump his bones without hesitation.

Grasping firmly, just as he preferred, Jessy's hand enveloped his throbbing member as her mouth engulfed him. With a slow and steady rhythm, Jessy expertly pleased Lewis, teasing with her tongue and cleaning any traces of pre-ejaculation. Lewis' grip on her head tightened as he guided her movements to match his own pace.

Jessy could feel the tension building in Lewis' body as she continued to pleasure him. Her own arousal was growing with each moan and gasp coming from his lips. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter..

But before he could reach his peak, Lewis pulled her up to him and flipped them over so that he was on top. He hovered above her, his eyes burning with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, trailing kisses down her neck and collarbone. Jessy's breath hitched as his lips found their way to her sweet spot, biting and sucking at that place until she was writhing beneath him.

With one fluid motion, Lewis removed the rest of their clothes and positioned himself between Jessy's legs. He looked into her eyes once more, seeking permission and reassurance.

"Yes," she breathed, arching her hips towards him.

And with that, he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. Their bodies moved together in sync as they reached new levels of pleasure together.

Lewis' movements became more urgent as they both neared their climax. His hand reached between them to rub Jessy's clit, causing her back to arch in a bow and her to coo his name in ecstasy. With a loud cry, they both came undone, riding out their orgasms together.

Exhausted and sweaty, Lewis cuddled up to Jessy and drifted into a deep slumber. Satisfied with their encounter, Jessy grinned to herself and as soon as she heard his familiar snores, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

Jessy did her usual after-sex routine: relieving her bladder, brushing her teeth, and taking a Plan B pill that she always kept in her toiletries bag for these situations.

She and Lewis had previously discussed their sexual activities in Los Angeles, and despite both being clean and Jessy being on birth control, she was still cautious enough to take precautions.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, Jessy took in her mussed, thoroughly fucked appearance. Judging by the way Lewis laid that pipe and him falling to sleep soon afterward, she knew that her plan had fallen perfectly into place.

And now, she was going to make sure he gave her everything she wanted.

Hook, line, and sinker.

TO BE CONTINUED....

[tsukasalvr]

Hiiii! I really like the s/o from future with electronics one

It was very entertaining and can you pls do a part 2 for that one?? Thanku😭💛

s/o from future/modern world w/ electronics

Anime/fandom: Demon Slayer

Characters: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza

Warnings: I don’t proofread

A/n: sooo anon I’m not sure what u meant by part 2 cus there’s a second part w more characters so I decided to do three more characters in this one too!

Part 1

Part 2

Demon Slayer masterlist | Main masterlist

Kokushibo

He is very wary with your phone at first, and even then when he sees you use it and let him hold it, he’s still careful and would rather not hold it

He thinks it’s very fascinating but would never grab it on his own and wouldn’t bother you as you tap away on your phone next to him, he just sits and watches it, slightly shocked at how quick you use it

Thinks the bright light can be harmful for your eyes, which it is, especially being so close so he’ll sometimes confiscate it from you and say it’s for your own good as if he’s punishing a child

His favorite times are when you’re both outside alone and you play calming music and set it aside on max volume while you lean on him, and the both of you admire the stars and bright moon

Douma

Very thing about you is interesting to him, and that includes your devices as well

He’s immediately on your phone and plays any game you have, but isn’t too addicted because he’d much rather play games where the both of you can play in

So playing multiplayer games are his favorite; gang beasts, overcooked, sniper clips, cuphead, Mario games are his favorite and sometimes he’ll lose on purpose and then act like it sas an accident just to irritate you

He likes listening to specific goth music like strawberry switchblade, Rose Mcdowall, Joy division, Siouxsie and the Banshees—where it’s still upbeat in a way.

Akaza

Cautious about your phone and thinks it’s a trap and everything between the two of you was a trick but then immediately calms down and curses himself for thinking that when he sees you use it with no problem

Akaza would sometimes grab your phone to use it but it’s not very often. But if you ask if he wants to use to it, he won’t say no though

Any combat games are his favorite and he becomes very competitive—even if it’s on a Mario game (water levels are the death of him—he despises them and thinks it was a way to torture humans, and demons too), he instantly becomes very skilled in combat games like Mortal Kombat, Super Smash, Gang Beasts and even Resident Evil games and Call of Juarez

He listens to any music you play, any music you like then he likes as well—but you can tell he has a preference to rock and sometimes metal. He also enjoys it when the both of you listen to music outside while he holds you close to him

[theyoungeragrippina]

🫶🏻 15 gentlebeard/blackbonnet fic recs

(17 if you squint)

hey legends, in this bittersweet period where a lot of a us are feeling gutted but simultaneously, rebelliously hopeful, i've emerged from my reading den to showcase to you all some of the brilliant talent we have in this fandom! these fics are some of the best of the best, and i hope you love them just as much as i do! <3

they are all complete, do not feature any ongoing steddyhands/edizzy/stizzy, and are above 20k words.

peruse part 1, part 2, and part 3 at your leisure if you want to compare our tastes/devour more fine literature, or check out my masterlist as an ao3 collection.

adrift between the dreaming seas by @dandy-pirate-time

49k, mature, locked

stede lives a cursed life on a moving island, until the monotony of his days is suddenly interrupted by the fearsome kraken.

this was such a fascinating & incredible idea! i love how it manipulates aspects of the original story and transforms them into parts of the cursed island <3 sweet & unique & magical. i want to hug poor stede.

Five Birthdays and a Funeral by @bizarrelittlemew

58k, explicit

"When Ed and Stede's friend groups merge, they meet at a birthday party, and Stede's life is turned upside-down. As they collide again and again, he not only has to figure out what Ed means to him, but what he means to himself."

stede gets to be oblivious and a bit of a silly goose as a treat. also: treasure hunts, lucius is the best, ed has a cat whom i would die for, such a sweet & heartfelt fic. you will be so unbelievably fond of this version of every character.

The Ghost of Frigate Point Lighthouse by @piratecaptainscaptainpirates

53k, explicit

"When history professor Stede Bonnet goes to investigate rumors of a ghost haunting the local lighthouse, he's thrust into a mystery centered around the ghost of one of the most famous pirates of all time."

was SO eager to read this and it did not disappoint!! it has everything - fun, magic, mystery, tired TA lucius, and a lil bit of seduction. good enough that i am worried the author may actually just be a sea witch recollecting events he personally witnessed.

Haunted by @thepirateroo

60k, explicit

"The Kraken is a famous spiritualist, working the music halls of 1920s London to help families communicate with their dead. But Stede Bonnet knows that underneath the fame and illustrious title, Edward Teach works as a ghost hunter, debunking the spirits he makes his living off."

this is, genuinely, in the top 5 fanfics i have read for any fandom EVER. i wouldn't bat an eyelid if i read this exact work as a published novel in a bookstore. the mystery is so good and had me guessing and re-theorising constantly, the characterisation is brilliant, and the emotions are perfect. i cried, i laughed, i felt sick with worry for the characters, and i couldn't stop reading until i was done.

haunt me, then by @hyruling

28k, explicit

"He releases the ropes slowly, barely registering the burn as they slip through his fingers. Then, fallible as Orpheus, turns to meet his ghost."

post s1 fixit fics ily. everyone needs some therapy. really VERY well written and a joy to read.

Homeward Bound by mari_who

51k, explicit

"In the long-ago year 2000, bouncy blonde boy-band member Stede Bonnet is 17-year-old Edward Teach's gay awakening. Decades later, Ed hears a voice he could never forget."

i said 'ohhh no poor ed/stede' so many times while reading this. a lovely exploration of emotion and human connection, and finding yourself when everyone else has always defined who you are on your behalf.

I just need some air by @cuddlytogas

26k, teen

"Stede Bonnet's been having panic attacks for almost as long as he can remember, suffocated by pressure and expectation... When [he] finally takes his life back — divorces Mary, moves to Melbourne, starts his own event management business — things get better, but he's still no good at parties. He still needs some air, even at the very events he's brought to fruition. Meanwhile, Edward Teach, renowned chef and owner of Blackbeard's Catering, is wondering why the newest bigwig in events still hasn't hired him."

zoomed through this faster than lightning mcqueen. such a lovely writing of stede, ed and the whole crew - it feels like there's depth in every character, even background ocs.

also fantastic australia rep (i was jumpscared by mention of the cotton on group) AND i've been to the bar the final scene takes place at!!!! most exciting reading experience of my life.

i'll be your treasure by @monksofthescrew

48k, mature

"Wasn't the Dread Pirate Blackbeard rumored to have a hoard hidden somewhere near Essex? It's a metal detecting AU. They're detectorists. They fall in love."

i LOVE this fic so much it is just,,,, so sweet. stede does self-discovery and is seduced. ed is a bit of a goose and i'm obsessed with him. doug and mary are lovely. alma is so cool and i love her.

+ the sequel! drift o'er the rolling hills, swim through the briny sea (made me cry. btw. doug keeps being the best.)

The Kraken's Sacrifice by @trinityofone

22k, explicit

"Every year, a person is chosen—supposedly at random—to be sacrificed to the Kraken, to quell the sea's worst storms and to stop the taking of ships... Stede discovers that there is much more to the creature than he was led to believe—and that they have a deeper connection than he could have ever dreamed."

i LOVED this okay. it was funny and sweet and gave an interesting spin to the ed-is-the-kraken genre. get both of these boys some self-esteem asap. also comes with art by @avatoh!!!!!

lovers in a dangerous time by @veeagainsttheday

52k, explicit

pacific rim au - "Edward Teach becomes a jaeger pilot, first with Izzy Hands and later with Stede Bonnet. It’s not easy trying to save the world and falling in love with your drift partner…"

made me feel every emotion under the sun, including foaming at the mouth jealous that i don't have a drift partner. absolutely, masterfully written. i've popped this link first since its the fic that focuses on stede & ed, but it was written as a prequel for:

+ catagory five: a shatterdome romance by @owlinaminor (27k, mature), which focuses predominantly on jim & oluwande, and which i also massively recommend reading (first). it's told through lucius' words and made up of journalistic notes and transcriptions, and its really terribly clever. i knew nothing about pacific rim before this, and now i'm really very invested. if i wrote something this fantastic (& creative & wildly unique) i would never shut up about it.

More of the Gravy Basket than of the Grave by @veeagainsttheday

36k, explicit

"Ed and Stede’s ‘unorthodox friendship’ ended four months ago when Stede left Ed without a word after Ed asked him to run away to a parallel universe with him. They’re thrown back together when they’re summoned to perform a supernatural exorcism at the Hillside Hotel during a blizzard."

this has got to be one of the coolest and most creative fics i have ever had the pleasure of reading. genuinely kept me guessing and so so intrigued, PLUS the most sweet stede & ed dynamic!!!

Nothing Missing in My Life by @semisweetshadow

63k, explicit, locked

"Hollywood action star Ed Teach is bored with his celebrity life. Everything changes when he meets Stede, a sweet extra working on the set of his latest film shoot. Stede doesn't know who Ed really is and treats him like a real person and Ed can't help wanting to keep him."

ed plays an action hero called jeff the accountant, and if that's not immediately the greatest synopsis ever idk how else to win you over. hilarious, clever, & so heartfelt. i gasped and said 'oh no' with a hand over my heart nearly as many times as i laughed out loud.

not pickles by smallestchurch

84k, explicit

"Ed's minding his business when the new neighbor's kid comes around holding a human puppet. It's creepy as hell, but as soon as the kid's father rounds the corner, Ed doesn't mind."

i actually feel a bit ill when i think about this fic because i love it so overwhelmingly. there's family, and healing, and good food and friends, and ed teach and louis bonnet become the dynamic duo they always had the potential to be.

Our Fangs Mean Death by @flawedamythyst

87k, teen, locked

"Master Vampire Blackbeard's afterlife is enlivened by the arrival of a new coven in town, lead by the self-styled Gentleman Vampire. Now here's a Master who doesn't mind shaking things up by wearing clothes 300 years out of date, buying a massive gothic mansion for a lair, and leading the most eclectic coven Blackbeard has ever seen."

ridiculously fun. this is the vampire novel/fic i didn't know i needed and i loved every silly second. stede really gets to fulfil his dad-ness. i'm furious i can't join the gentleman vampires coven irl, will just need to embrace the gothic vampire aesthetic in my own life.

Wayfaring by @justkeeptrekkin

35k, explicit

"The downside to being stuck on a desert island is that Stede's not awfully good at adapting. The upside is that he and Ed can finally have some peace and quiet– that is, if Ed ever wakes up from the gunshot wound in his stomach."

the sweetest desert island fic, feat. the cutest piglet in the world, a little bit of pining, a helpful skeleton named dusty, and some of the best & most accurately written stede and ed content ever (imo).

[happynowyo]

Stubbornness, part 2

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of touch aversion, some smut

Summary: The early morning comes and you face some new opportunities along with the pleasure as Kaz's trying new things.

Word count: 3,1k

Part 1

After dawn you woke up with this weird feeling that you already had enough sleep. During the evening Kaz had been quite generous with lots of kisses and had distracted you with his caress, so it was entirely his fault that you'd just dreamt about someone caressing you. These intriguing images were still fresh in your mind. You blushed involuntarily and squinted sleepily as you looked around the small bedroom, lit by the soft dawn light.

Suddenly you froze and your eyes widened with surprise. You were definitely awake, but for some reason you could still feel someone else's touches. You realized what was happening so slowly, almost reluctantly, rejecting the frightening reality to the last. It was Kaz. It was sleeping Kaz who was really fucking touching you.

You tensed, and panic quickly filled your body. The incomprehension of what was happening overtook you as swiftly as the telltale heat, that made your cheeks visibly blush. Kaz's thin, strikingly hot fingers, meanwhile, continued their slow march under your T-shirt along your stomach and reached your ribs before they went up to your chest.

Your first thought was to bounce back and wake him up, to remember boundaries and decency and to ask, "What the fuck are you doing?". But the same question you could have asked yourself. An inner voice insisted on getting out of that bed, sprinkling everything with a massive amount of exquisite curses.

Because you didn't do anything. Curiosity became almost morbid, so you continued to lie quietly on your back with your right leg bent at the knee, holding your breath, just stiffened by every new touch. You knew that Kaz's feelings for you were real, and you were well aware of his ambivalent attitude when he was desperate to touch you and scared of doing so at the same time. But you couldn't imagine how much he was drawn to you, since his mind was able to break through the barriers created by time and make him forget about this eternal self-control at least in his sleep.

Was he dreaming something similar to what was happening in reality? Had it happened before? How did Kaz react to it? All of these questions seriously bothered you, but more important was how your body reacted to this unhurried caress. Kaz's fingers gently moved to your breast and squeezed lightly, making you swallow convulsively and tense up. Your stomach cramped with sweet anticipation, though your mind was still trying to find a decent way out.

Meanwhile, Kaz had his hands around your already hard nipple, playing with it unobtrusively. "God, make him stop", you couldn't take it. "No, don't stop".

Kaz's palm slid gently back onto your belly. His naughty fingers began to trace indistinct patterns, and your breathing quickened. The tips of his fingers literally danced on your bare skin and got closer and closer to the edge of your pajama pants, and that made the obvious desire grow stronger. You could literally feel how your underwear was getting wet, but Kaz's sharp sigh instantly caught your attention.

He was awake now, but his mind obviously needed some time to go into what was going on around him. You'd noticed this in the previous nights you'd spent together. The worst part now wasn't even that you'd have to throw an accusing and astonished question like "Why the hell did you touch me?" at him. It was that you wouldn't have found right words to respond to his fair one, "Why the hell didn't you stop me?".

His loud sigh repeated, and without even looking at him, you could imagine the shock that instantly overtook him at the realization that his fingers were freely touching your belly without the barrier of his usual gloves or an extra layer of clothing. Kaz tensed, but you managed to catch his hand, gently holding his wrist in its former position, before you turned your head smoothly to meet his worried and agitated gaze.

— It's all right. You didn't do anything wrong.

You needed to calm him down before panic took over his mind, so you tried to use the softest and most affectionate tone possible. Kaz's gaze slid tensely across your face, searching for a catch, and you were curious as to what exactly he had seen in his dream before. The question was already on the tip of your tongue, but you didn't want to add any more reason for Kaz to worry.

— But I did do something, didn't I?

His thoughts were like a disturbed beehive of bees, Kaz tried to catch at least one of them, but he was never successful. It was as if his whole being was divided in two. There was a part drowning in fear and growing panic at how close you were, and there was the other part screaming in a desire to go on and explore your body further, to find each of your sensitive spots and make you feel good. Kaz wanted to be able to overcome his past and his traumas, to learn how to give you the pleasure you deserved.

He didn't know much about sex, despite literally growing up on the streets of the Barrel, where carnal pleasure was a cheap currency. On any given night it was easy to spot couples in love lurking in dark corners and empty alleys. There was a brothel on every street that employed girls and guys of all tastes. Kaz used to think he was above it all and, therefore, better than everyone else. He didn't care about physical pleasure, he was so badly traumatized that the thought of even his own hands touching his body was frightening.

But meeting you changed his ideas and expectations about many things in a big way. Your careful healing touches became something almost sacred to Kaz, they were a real miracle that he was ready to worship, and that is why he always delayed to the last before accepting your help. Your presence was a gift at its best, and any physical contact between you was a real reward. At least for his patience and his efforts in how he tried to deal with his own demons.

If Nina found out that he still carried the title of virgin, she would never, ever let anyone forget it, but around you Kaz felt no embarrassment. You gave him valuable support and made him believe that he was needed and wanted for nothing. Kaz was used to everything in the Barrel being obtained through pain and blood, through money and power, and necessarily accompanied by the sale of his conscience, but you showed him another way.

You accepted him for who he was, and Kaz did his best not to disappoint you. And that's why, taking a deep breath, Kaz Brekker confirmed his longtime nickname, DirtyHands, and shifted his fingers unabashedly higher. He needed to see your reaction as much as he needed to see his own. The water remained somewhere outside his bedroom, and all he could feel with his fingertips was the warmth and softness of your skin.

You were alive, you stayed alive, and that gave him a little reassurance. He lifted his palm some more and gently cupped your breast, and his eyes were filled with such a mix of delight and apprehension and wonder that you were enveloped in a new wave of love for him. His concern for you was winning you over, and you knew that once you said a word, Kaz would instantly move away and never touch you again unless you wanted him to.

— You didn't do anything I didn't enjoy, sweetheart.

Your answer seemed vague, but the bunched sigh and hard nipples were a far better indication that you approved of what was happening. You still had trouble understanding the boundaries that existed in Kaz's mind. The relationship with him was like walking on a tightrope. Each step had to be thought through twice, and each one could be your last. Yesterday you could kiss his neck and he would be relaxed in your arms, but today you could meet him and he wouldn't even let you touch his palm briefly. Every day you had to start this journey all over again, not knowing if you would reach your intended destination.

But being on the sidelines was no longer possible. You wanted to be close and feel him with your skin. The glint of excitement in your eyes was becoming more and more obvious, so you took a risk and cautiously raised yourself up, leaning on your elbow to change your angle and look down at Kaz. Your gaze slid further along his body, and your eyebrows raised in interest for a moment when you noticed the familiar bump on Kaz's pants.

— Can I… ? — you asked cautiously, paying full attention to correctly recognizing Kaz's reaction. There was such a void in his head at the moment, he was focused solely on the feeling of your closeness, so he nodded mechanically, not even knowing what you meant.

But even that simple permission was enough for you. You moved swiftly closer and pressed your lips to his, squeezing his shoulder with your free hand. The kiss made Kaz shudder, but he quickly managed his anxiety, reassuring himself that it was you, and that he really trusted you. His body relaxed again, and then Kaz was able to seize the initiative, turning the soft kiss into a demanding and deep one, almost licking your mouth from the inside out.

He was constantly afraid that each time might be his last, that he would no longer be able to distract himself from the feel of water raising and the cold dead skin nest to his own, so Kaz showed all his fervor now, while he had the chance, while Jordy was pliantly hiding in the back of his mind and giving him valuable time with you in that dawn hour.

You didn't know which one of you made the leap, too engrossed in how well Kaz's lips touched yours, but the next moment you were already pressed against the bed. Your fingers followed the familiar path and found themselves in Kaz's hair, pulling the dark strands back. Even if his bad leg was making him uncomfortable now, he didn't show it. Such little things didn't mean anything to Kaz when he got to your neck, sinking his teeth into the soft skin with pleasure.

If someone had warned you that bloody Kaz Brekker would turn out to be so possessive, it would hardly have made any difference. You arched toward him and moaned briefly, knowing already that you'd spend a few minutes later staring at the fresh crimson marks on your neck in the mirror. Your hips clenched tighter around Kaz's legs and you thrust them toward him with obvious purpose. You needed to create a nice friction along his groin, though you still left it to him to pull away and not cross that line.

— I want more. I think.. Y/n, I think I can do this now. I can't bear the thought that I won't have a chance to be with you for real, and that you'll end up meeting someone else. I want to see you, — Kaz's trembling voice was so excited, so begging, that it shrunk something in your chest. It was incredible how hard he was trying for you.

— Just to see, hmm? We're not in a museum, Brekker, nobody's going to punish you for touching. More like the opposite. I could praise you, would you want that? I could tell that you're the best, the most diligent boy in the world? — you provoked him with a wide grin, pulling his hair back harder so that you could tilt his head back and let your tongue run wide along his neck. Exactly where his pulse was beating so often.

You didn't need to hear the answer. It was enough to see the dark flame of excitement in Kaz's eyes and his brief nod. You nudged him gently on the shoulder, and Kaz pulled back on the bed, giving you more space. He was barely breathing while he was greedily watching you take off your clothes. Healers were taught to get rid of embarrassment around their patients in the first months of training. You had seen exposed parts of other people's bodies many times, but no one had taught you how to hold yourself when you let someone see your own body.

— If I could paint, I would make your portraits every day. If I could play, I'd compose the best songs praising you, — Kaz said slowly, forcing himself to remember how to form words into sentences, completely stunned. — But I only know how to steal and cheat, so I'd steal you from everyone else. From Anderson, from Jesper and Nina, who you spend all weekend with. I'd like to be the only one who can see you like this. Being absolutely gorgeous.

Kaz Brekker wasn't a romantic poet, but he certainly knew how to approach a girl. A blush flashed on your cheeks at such frank words, but you managed it and pulled Kaz back closer to you. He was still wearing his clothes, and it created just the right contrast. It gave the illusion that Brekker was still in charge, but you both knew that it was really up to you.

— You can stop everything anytime, do you remember? I trust you and your ability to listen to yourself, you don't have to do something just because you think you have to, — you pressed your palm lightly to his cheek to make Kaz meet your inquisitive gaze.

— If I really knew how to listen to myself, I would have fucked you right on the table in my office three months ago right after that first kiss. But now I'm sure about everything, really.

Kaz didn't give you a chance to add anything else when he pertly shut you up with a kiss. You learned to work as a team a long time ago, so you joined in and guided his palm to your thigh, giving him a chance to run his fingers over the hot skin to begin with. You stopped straining to think about every detail, and the anticipation took over you entirely. You knew when the moment was right, and with a hidden smile you continued your lingering kiss as his fingers sank into the slick wetness between your thighs.

He didn't have the needed experience, but he had a great curiosity and a desire to please you. This made up for everything, and you gently pulled away from his lips, knowing that he would want to see exactly how his fingers touched you in your most intimate place. The tip of his index finger circled near your clit, pressing lightly, and you leaned against his shoulder for a moment, biting your lips to stifle the moan that was bursting out. Kaz was quick to learn and was now acting without your help, so you lay back, studying his too vivid emotions through your half-closed eyes.

— Have you imagined this before? That one day the trust between us would be so great that I could do something like this?

— I wanted that before there was any trust between us, — you admitted frankly, and a teasing smile touched your lips before Kaz caressed your clit a little faster, making you moan. — You were too handsome at the club. You walked into the room like you owned the whole building. And I also fell for your cheekbones and awesome sense of humor, I admit. But yes, hell, of course I wanted you and imagined stuff.

Kaz nodded, struggling to grasp the true meaning of your words. Passion filled his entire mind and made him even more greedy. He carefully memorized every loud sigh you let out, every moan. He enjoyed watching the way you crumpled the sheet in your fingers and the beautiful mess of your hair on the pillow. But he was more interested in seeing how eagerly you moved your hips against his fingers. Kaz knew what else you could have gone on. He was ready to die to know what it would be like to push inside your hot body and plunge his hard shaft all the way in, to drown in your sticky wetness. But tonight his stamina wouldn't be strong enough for that.

— I was dreaming about it. Before I woke up here, I had a dream about you. We were in an old house, similar to where I'd lived with my parents as a child, and we were fooling around in the bedroom. I could touch you there just like that, without feeling dead hands pulling me into the cold water, — any regret quickly disappeared from Kaz as he smoothly dipped two fingers inside your body.

Your loud moan merged with his surprised sigh. Kaz didn't expect his fingers to pass so freely, but the internal sensation of incredible narrowness struck him even more. Never in his life had he experienced such rapture, and his love for you strengthened in his heart. He moved his fingers with confidence, getting you faster and faster to a vivid orgasm with each thrust. You grasped his hand with such force that you must have left marks, but your pleasure was so huge and overwhelming that it made you forget everything around you. You whimpered Kaz's name again and again until he leaned down to kiss you, and you guessed from the tart taste on his tongue that he had already had time to lick his fingers, tasting you that way.

— Maybe one day we'll have a house like your old one and you'll be free of your fears, but until then, I'll be there to support you every step of the way, Kaz, — you whispered gently with a slight blush on your cheeks, before you pulled him closer and hugged him tightly, hiding the tip of your nose in his hair.

[alcoris-shiz]

The Big Boss Of Hell Himself

Chapter 1: Remember Me

Description: You died, well at least that’s what Lucifer had witnessed right? You were killed in his meeting with Heaven all those years ago when Charlie was just little. Lilith and he had split up when Charlie was only years old, then you came into his life. He was courting you at the time, Charlie adored you, you adored him and as you tried to help redeem demons, they shot at you saying an incantation that Lucifer didn’t even know. Then suddenly out of the blue, he gets a call from Charlie that there is someone at the hotel for him. She remembers you, but you can’t remember anything except a white light and waking up feeling lost.

Inspired by multi-fandom-imagine: And You’re In My Heart (Tumblr)

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Lucifer’s POV

I played- I mean placed my duck very particularly on a shelf. It looked just like them, so pretty. Next to my other ducks. This was probably only my 1,000th duck that looked like Y/N, but it was the most resemblant so far. I proudly had it sitting next to my duck which looked like Charlie and I. 

We were barely together, I know I had only been courting them, but either way, it hurt to think of them. They would’ve accepted a proposal, I know this. But why now? Why did they have to leave so soon? We were partners! They’d been there since the beginning. Lilith may have helped me start it, but Y/N was there for me to get the job done. When it seems everything fell apart. 

Their wings being ripped from their body flashed through my head and I winced at the memory. How they’re body were thrown into a portal lifelessly and they were gone. They died fighting for my dream and while I know it was also their dream. I know it was their dream because it was mine. They did so much for Charlie and me and yet they were the one who suffered. Now here Charlie was taking the same stance, almost as if they were related and not Lilith. Those two always had so much in common.

I felt my eyes tear up and had to look away from my most recent project when my phone began to ring. I flinched grabbed it hurriedly and answered. “Heyyy… you?” I said awkwardly, cursing myself for not rehearsing before answering.

“Hey, Dad! I have… someone here who I think you’d like to see!” I sighed as I waited for her to say who it was, but the line was quiet and awkward.

“May I ask who it is? I’m pretty busy,” I said awkwardly in reply.

“It’s a surprise, just be nice when you show up. They’re not really in the right headspace and I think that seeing you will help them a lot.” Charlie said happily. Well, who could it be? Happy to see me? Was Lilith back? I missed her, but I feel like that’s the last person I would want to see. But a chance to see Charlie? Alright! Good enough reason to show up!

“Well, are you asking me to come see you as well?!” I asked I felt excited at the idea of coming to see Charlie, but she just laughed. 

“Yeah Dad, you can come see me as well. But I promise, you’ll be more than happy to see them.” I sighed again at the idea of having to socialize. 

“Alright, alright… I’ll be there in 20!” 

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Around 20 minutes later I stood awkwardly in front of the hotel, should I even knock? I already said I was coming over… This is for Charlie!

I knocked on the door and it was quickly opened. “Heyyy bitch~,” I said and then paused awkwardly, my arms outstretched. I saw the spider thing in the back cover their mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. “Bad intro again? Hah, I’ll just work on that some more Sweetheart,” I chuckled rubbing the back of my neck.

I got a better look at Charlie and she had tear streaks down her face but was smiling. I felt myself immediately go into dad mode as I hugged her tightly. “Honey, why have you been crying? Did someone do something?~ 王’ĮĮ ƘíĮĮ ፐん巳ണ~” I snarled and she shook her head in my chest. I breathed a sigh as she pulled away. “No… it’s- just come see them,” she whispered and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the hotel.

She led me to our new beautiful dining room we had designed as she hurried inside.

That’s when I saw them…

My eyes swelled. This is an awful joke… they’re dead. I can’t be seeing this, there’s no way. They’re long past dead. “Y-Y/N?” I whispered looking at their face. They’re beautiful face where they sat looking so confused. “I- You’re Lucifer I guess?” I felt my chest swell hearing their voice once again. But why were they questioning this? I put on a little weight and aged a little, but I couldn’t look very different! They looked the same as the day they- 

“They seemed to have lost their memories. They said they just woke up in an alley and saw the hotel, assuming they could find help, they knocked. The last thing they remember is white and waking up, they don’t know any of us.” Charlie whispered.

“That’s okay, it’s so okay. My darling, we’ll help you. I’ll never leave you helpless again my dear,” I whispered slowly walking towards them. They looked up, eyes teary as well. She must be stressed, where did that emergency duck go that I had brought?!

I quickly pulled it out and presented it to them. It was a small classic rubber duck that just felt soft when you squished it. Charlie had said it may be a little more relieving for stress and it had become one of my new favorites. What a clever daughter I have!

They slowly reached up and touched it, looking at my eyes they grabbed it. That’s when I heard them giggle quietly. Oh, how I missed that laugh and their voice. “Thank you, I love ducks,” they giggled and softly squished it. That’s still my darling, that’s definitely them. 

“My dear, how are you feeling? Do you need to rest? I can help you! I make a great pillow if you need one! Or I mean I can also get you pillows I guess. I can be the blanket! Or just get a blanket.” they laughed again and smiled at me softly.

“No I’m okay, I feel like I’ve slept one hundred years, I don’t think I wanna sleep ever again.” they whispered.

I chuckled, right. “I’ll let you guys talk,” Charlie said and hugged me. “Thank you,” I whispered to her as she nodded and left the room. 

“I know you don’t know this and it sounds crazy probably, but I missed you. So much dearest.” I said softly to Y/N. They looked at me quizzically. “I don’t remember you, but I feel like I also missed you, somehow. That probably sounds crazier.” They said chuckling.

“No,” I said grabbing their hands softly, making sure they were okay with it. But they grabbed my hands as well and looked at me softly. “It’s perfectly okay and makes sense. You’ve been through a lot. I thought you had… were dead?” I felt my eyes fill with tears again and bit my lip, trying to keep my tears at bay.

“I died?” they asked softly looking shocked. I nodded. “Yeah, but I’m more than thankful you’re here.”

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Word Count: 1,279 A/N: So this is the first idea for a story I'm writing. I'm taking some of my favorite prompts for Lucifer that I've read and turning them into an actual story. If you guys have a specific prompt you wanna see, I'd love to see it. ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ~ Master List~ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

[fairy-writes]

😎 congrats on 900 followers my best friend!! You deserve it!! I shall give the first first request to you, and that is, Sanemi x fem reader!!! With the action prompt 1! I give you free reign but for the love of everything holy, please make it fluffy!!!!!

IT JUST MEANS TIME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Shinazugawa Sanemi x Female!Reader

Prompt: Falling asleep with their head in the lap of their lover (Action Prompt #1)

Notes: This is technically before the reader and Sanemi gets together, but it’s a fun idea, so we’re going with it, lol.

This is for my 900 followers event! Check my pinned post for more info if you want to join! It’s going on between May 1st and May 15th!

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There was always something off about you, but Shinazugawa Sanemi could never place what it was. 

You were a fellow Hashira—the Falcon Hashira, if he remembered right. You were from overseas but talented nonetheless. One of the more talented Hashira, if he had to admit anything. With quick but grand divebombing techniques and lethal strikes that imitated a falcon, after which you were named. The two of you sparred often, usually on your estate. You teased him, saying that he probably had a dirty home. 

He never told you it was because he didn’t want you to see the picture of his family. 

He didn’t want your pity most of all. 

Because he had a feeling that your pity would shatter his heart into tiny pieces.

But he wasn’t sure why.

Sanemi wakes up somewhere warm. His body aches as if he was dragged behind a train. His eyelashes flutter open, and he looks up to see your face. Your eyes are closed. Your face turned forward toward the open window, gently swaying from side to side with the breeze as you hummed a tune. It was calming… relaxing… 

It was something he hadn’t felt since before his mother died. 

The moment he realizes his head is in your lap, he bolts upright, startling you into opening your eyes. You glance at him in confusion before your expression warms, a twinkle in your eye and an expression he couldn’t quite place curling your lips.

“Have a nice rest?” You ask kindly. That was the thing about you. You were never unkind to anyone. You dealt with demons swiftly and painlessly, even going as far as to pray for them as they died. You always had that smile on your face, even when people screamed or cursed in your face. 

“Where am I?” He demands, and you shrug,

“Your estate. Shinobu asked if I could keep an eye on you while you healed. Do you remember anything?” You ignore his guarded expression, instead talking to him as if he was your best friend or even a lover. 

Lover… 

For whatever reason, he didn’t hate that idea. But he knew it was never meant to be. While he cared for you deeply (he wasn’t sure when that happened), he knew that you would never look twice at a man like him. Why would you? You were calm, kind, successful, and one of the only Hashira with a still living and loving family. Why you were a demon slayer was a mystery to him. 

“Shinazugawa? Are you alright?” You ask, breaking him from his reverie. You had cocked your head, and concern painted your face like an art piece. With the setting sun bathing your body in golden light, he thought you looked almost like an angel. 

Sanemi nods,

“‘m fine. What happened?” He eventually says, and you frown (he hates it when you frown) but reply regardless. 

“We were sent on a mission, and you were attacked by a demon. You passed out from blood loss soon after we killed the demon. I carried you back here. ” You explain succinctly, and he blinks. He vaguely remembered going on the mission. He remembers a splash of red. He remembers being moved. 

Had that been you? 

He is stuck in his mind and only shakes his head to clear himself of half-formed memories when you come back in with a tray of tea and a roll of bandages. 

“Shinobu asked that I take care of you.” You reiterate and gesture for him to turn around. He does so without a word. There’s no use in arguing, not when he hurts this bad and can spot speckles of stains on his futon where blood had leaked through the wrappings. You work deftly and quietly, only asking if the bandages are too tight, to which he says no. 

Eventually, you speak. 

“Who are those people in the picture?” You ask, and he immediately knows which picture you’re talking about. It’s the one by his futon. It’s the only picture of his entire family. His father’s face had been ripped from the image, and there were a few splatters of red on the paper, but he kept it nonetheless. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He says gruffly and grunts when you tug a bit too tight on the bandage around his middle. You apologize quietly.

“They’re your family, aren’t they? I think that matters a lot.” You say, voice but a whisper in the breeze coming through the window.  Sanemi clenches his fists and grits his teeth. Here it comes. 

The pity. 

The apologies. 

You don’t look at him with those eyes that he despises. Instead, you look at him with compassion, not pity. 

“I think they’d be proud of you, y’know? You’re helping so many people. I think they’d want you to have a happily ever after.” You say, and he remembers seeing you read a book of foreign fairy tales. When he had asked you about it, you had smiled. 

“I just want a happily ever after someday.” You had said. 

“There’s no such thing as “happily ever after.” It’s just a lie that everyone tells themselves because the truth is too hard.” He says bitterly, his heart constricting.

No. 

He didn’t want to say that. 

Not to you. 

He didn’t want you to look sad. 

But you continue to astound him when you speak again. You don’t apologize. You don’t reprimand him. You don’t belittle him. 

“Happily ever after just means time, Sanemi.” You whisper, putting a hand over his. He revels in the feeling of your calloused hand and the way you say his name with a smile. Normally, he’d shout at anyone for calling him that. But you are different. And that was something he liked about you.

So, when you gently tug him down so he lies with his head in your lap, he doesn’t complain. He even closes his eyes as you begin to hum. 

He falls asleep soon after, feeling relaxed and calm, feeling loved. 

Sanemi always prided himself on keeping his walls up. Because with a past like his, he didn’t want pity. He didn’t want people to say how sorry they were for him. Because frivolous words like that did nothing around demons. 

But… strangely enough… he didn’t feel like he needed to keep them up around you.