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anki-of-beleriand · 5 months

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Bad Liar ch.8

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: Here is a new chapter and Reader and Wanda are getting closer, Reader puts an end to her confusion and the past is at Rader's doorstep.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 8

Breaking the past

The sun had a way to sneak inside her room, the light rays of light projecting hues of colour with a welcoming warmth that soothed her to sleep again. The memories of childhood days spent in bed, trying to sleep in before being taken away from the comfort of her bed and made to be an avid participant in the house chores. Wanda fluttered her eyes open to see the time gleaming from the digital clock in her bedside table.

9 am.

She smiled knowing the twins must be asleep as well, Saturdays had become one her favourite days of the week. It was a time in which she could spend time with her children, she was able to read and to paint, to do all the things she had denied herself for too long. But that particular morning, her smile was brighter, and the fluttering butterflies at the pit of her stomach were a memory of your words the night before.

I was hoping you would come to my place and we could have lunch together.

Wanda felt a tug on her heart, she closed her eyes for a brief moment only to see your smile from the night before. She never imagined that spending time with you would result in her having so much time, or in you being a complete child while taking the kids with you to form a team during the game. She had seen a part of you that had melted away her heart and her resolution. Wanda turned to her back glancing at the ceiling with her heart speeding at the memory of the kiss you placed on her cheek.

But before she could delve even more in the memory, before she allowed the sweet, tortuous tingling in her body to travel down to her crotch, there was a knock on her door. Wanda sat almost right away, her eyes going big with anticipation, she spoke before she could stop herself with a voice heavy with sleep and confusion.

“Who is it?” Wanda winced, rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. She tried to stand up before the door was opened but it was late.

There standing by the door were the twins, they were holding one white rose in their hands and some superhero mugs with big smiles, behind them you were carrying a tray filled with eggs, bread, coffee and orange juice.

The world came to a halt.

Wanda observed the scene trembling like a leaf. Her breath caught on her throat, her eyes going from her children to you then back to them. She opened her mouth and closed it again, but there was nothing she could say without breaking up and giving into panic and tears.

“Hey, sorry, they called America, but she stayed over at Loki’s place and America called me and… Well, you were asleep, and they were hungry, and I thought that you may need the sleep and…”

The twins snickered entering the room slowly, the both of them offered the white rose to Wanda who took them with trembling hands. The look in her eyes cut off you babbling, and you regretted doing what you just did. You had overstepped quite foolishly, assuming whatever had happened last night was an open invitation to… to be a freaking stalker or something equally awful.

“Mommy, Y/N made pancakes like dinosaurs!”

“And we played, and helped her, and she let us pick the flowers!”

“Mommy, Y/N told us that we could watch the whole Jurassic Park movie on her TV, can we go?”

“You like the pretty flowers, Mommy?”

Wanda was bombarded by two hyperactive twins waiting patiently to Wanda

You kicked yourself for just barging in the other woman's home without even asking, for thinking that perhaps this was okay. You and Wanda were not friends. Or, were you?

Your trail of thoughts was cut short by a warm hand on yours. Wanda offered a trembling smile, she opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“I… I…”Wanda snorted, shaking her head. “You didn't have to do this.”

You tilted your head holding onto the tray, it was true you didn't have to do it. You did it because you wanted to, because you hadn't stopped thinking about Wanda. Because you woke up thinking you could have kissed her the night before.

“I just… I'm shocked, I've never had breakfast in bed.” She said, trying to ease out the uncomfortable silence in the room.

“Never?” You asked incredulously, Wanda shook her head and just as you were to say something else Billy came forward speaking loudly.

“Daddy said mommies didn't deserve breakfast and they should be serving us.” Billy made up a face sulking a little. “But Balder told us that his dad serves breakfast to his mommy… Because he loves her…”

Tommy placed his hand on his chin, pursing his lips while glancing up at where you were standing frozen in place after such a revelation.

“Do you love mommy?” Tommy finally asked, and it was his question what broke the uncomfortable tension in the room.

Your face turned in a mask of reds and disbelief, while Wanda was just as mortified as you. The twins, blissfully ignorant of what they had just done, went back to crawl inside Wanda's bed and turned the TV on.

Wanda was afraid to lift her gaze and discover disgust in your face, perhaps to find you looking at her as if Vision had been right all along. You don't deserve to eat, dear, last night I wasn't satisfied as I should be and you have to make it up to me today.

You cleared your throat stepping closer with a grin in place. Your eyes gleamed warmly, tilting your head to catch those green irises in yours.

“Well, boys, mommies deserve breakfast in bed every single day of the week.” You declared casually. “You guys love your mommy, right?”

Wanda's heart shrank with emotion when the twins exclaimed a loud yes, you were now dangerously close to her.

“Then, it is obvious that she needs her breakfast.” You cleared your throat once more and this time around Wanda did look up to see you before her. “Let me make sure you have your first warm breakfast in bed, Wands.”

For a brief moment, you and Wanda stared into one another's eyes without any need to break into explanations. You were not asking for them, and Wanda was too afraid to say something and scared you away. The young woman fixed her position in bed, and you soon placed the trail on her lap. You offered a quick smile nodding to the twins and the tray.

“Now, Wands, you go ahead and eat while you watch some cartoons with the children.”

“Cartoons?” Wanda asked amusedly, whatever nervousness she was experimenting with was diminished by your comment. The twins nodded watching as you surf the channels looking for some good cartoons.

“Yes, Saturday mornings are mornings of cartoons and sleeping in until you can't take bed anymore.” You winked at her, and Wanda melted at the sight.

She was foolish not to think that this was nothing more than a friendly gesture, and Wanda knew later on she would need to provide explanations about the comments made by Billy. But at the moment she could give in the moment, enjoyed the warm meal and the familiarity of the scene.

Soon you found something Billy and Tommy asked for and the room filled with the sound of paw patrol. You smirked at Wanda who winced lightly while Tommy and Billy were hooked from the start.

“And, what are you supposed to do now?” Wanda asked teasingly, you stood there for a moment putting the rose you had in your back pocket out and placing it on the tray. “Are you going to stay with us?”

Wanda tried to make it sound casual, as if she was just teasing you. But the air left her lungs when you leaned in, your eyes locked on hers, twinkling with an emotion that made Wanda's heart jump in her throat and her core tremble with longing.

“Now you enjoy and later on I will wait for you at my place for lunch.”

“Stay.” Wanda said before she could stop herself, she opened her eyes, lowering her gaze. “I mean… You're here now, so you could have breakfast and…”

You chuckled winking at her, “perhaps at another time. Right now I have to run some errands and I want to make sure Billy and Tommy are okay before you wake up.”

“Thank you.” Wanda mumbled, you waved away her words walking backwards with a grin adorning your features.

“Don't mention it, it was my pleasure. See you later, Wands.”

You almost crashed against the threshold, cursing lowly while hearing the snort of amusement from Wanda. Blushing lightly you shook your head and exited the room before you could do or say something that would put you in the spotlight.

Wanda was left with her children, the food was warm and her stomach grumbled reminding her that she had been angry when waking up.

“Okay, guys, I need you to tell me why you call America again.” Wanda finally asked, turning to Billy first then to Tommy.

The twins took their attention away from the TV looking at Wanda.

“She is cool, Mommy.” Billy said as if that was the best argument in the world.

“I know she is, Billy, but she probably was asleep at home and she has things to do.” Wanda tried to reason with them, it was not the first time they had done this and Wanda was starting to think this could be bothering you and America at some point.

“I like America and Y/N.” Tommy said, leaning closer to Wanda. “They make mommy smile.”

Billy nodded in agreement, “mommy, you like them too?”

Wanda flushed at the question, she pressed her lips together and decided to stuff her mouth with pancakes instead of answering that particular question. She let her thoughts run rampant, her body tingling with anticipation for the lunch time to be there already.

__________________

Laughter filled the room, reverberating deep inside her soul at the sight before her.

Billy and Tommy were on the floor, holding onto their stomachs while laughter erupted from them with a young woman poking at them while a grown adult kept on making noises while the voice on the phone demanded seriousness. Wanda sat on the dark blue chair in the corner, she was closer to the fireplace and the window, the rain falling freely right outside the house. If anyone had asked her a couple of months ago the changes she had experimented in her life, she would have thought them crazy. Wanda had never considered herself strong, or even extraordinary, and quite frankly she never thought she would make it out of Vision’s grasp; when the time came for her to make decisions, it came as a surprised just how strong she really was. How ready she was to start fighting for who she was, and what she wanted.

Leaning back against the cushioned back of the chair, Wanda chuckled at the sight of Billy and Tommy enjoying themselves without a care in the world. Her green eyes flickered briefly from Billy and Tommy to America, the young woman was grinning like mad while putting the mobile away before turning the TV on, her soothing voice and clear wording made it impossible for the twins to ignore her. Wanda had seen the growing affection between her children and their babysitter, how that young woman had come over their lives and help the twins out of their scary shell.

For a moment, Wanda kept her eyes on a single spot between the twins and America. She was fighting over with her thoughts, the fluttering in her heart made her tingled until fluttering butterflies awoke at the pit of her stomach. Without any excuses to keep her eyes away from you, she let her green stare to fall upon your relaxed form on the floor.

You were resting your back against the sofa, one leg on the floor and the other bend slightly towards your chest. Your face was a mask of pure relaxation, there was a soft trace of flush on your cheeks and those eyes were completely soft and warmth as they focused on the children. Not for a single moment had you shown any disgust or exasperation against the twins, you were not even bored after answer a million questions and then telling them stories about yours and America’s younger days.

Wanda held her hands closer to her chest, her heart twisted inside her chest making her experiment a spark of longing. Wanda longed for this to be her life, and just for that brief moment, Wanda could pretend this was her life. With Billy, Tommy, with America and with…with you.

But just as this thought sneaked inside her mind, she shook it away with panic rising inside her mind. It was impossible! She was not attracted to women, and she most certainly was not attracted to you! She couldn’t! She shouldn’t! And thus, she would bury those emotions and forget all about them. With time, Wanda knew she would realize this was just her way of developing friendships. Right?

“Woah, earth to Wanda? Earth to Wanda!!”

You were waving your hand in front of her face, the young woman shook her head blushing profusely with you just a few inches away from her grinning amusedly. Wanda could tell everyone had her attention on her, and she just hoped she had not been staring at you in an obvious way.

“I thought you want to either hit me or kiss me for the way you were looking at me.” You teased shaking your head in triumph when Wanda winced mortified.

“I wanted to hit you…” She stated through gritted teeth, you chuckled leaning back.

“Keep telling yourself that, Princess.” You winked at the young woman, before tilting your head back.

Billy, Tommy, and America were now seated on the sofa watching a movie, and while the rain was still falling right outside your windows, it was no late than four in the afternoon.

“I was asking you, if you want to start working on the preparations for the festival.” You lowered your gaze furrowing your brows. “We can use the studio and leave them here watching a movie.”

Still shaken by your early comment, Wanda tried to regain her wits before facing you again.

“Yes, I think we could go and work a little, there are a lot of things I would like to ask you about, and perhaps get to know a little better.” Wanda was about to stand up when you stretched out your hand, offering a support for her to take and stand up.

It took her a moment of hesitation before she came into contact with your hand. It felt warm against hers, and your fingertips were soft under her calloused palm. You offered a half smile, Wanda tried to smile back but it came as a grimace making her wince at her lack of decor to actually return such a simple gesture. Wanda thought you would let go as soon as she had stood up, but instead you took her hand in yours guiding her through the living room down the dinning room to the hall leading a to a single white door.

“My dad built his mancave in the basement.” You started explaining while going down the stairs with Wanda following close behind. “It became the studio for everyone in the house since he was incapable of being alone for far too long. He started bringing my toys and my things as well as some of America’s or even mom’s stuff.”

“This place is huge.” Wanda couldn’t help but admire the room, it had been well-adapted and there was no humidity or coldness sneaking inside the place.

It had a single desk in the far corner, with a lamp and a laptop. There were a couple of inflatable chairs, a sofa bed, and a couple of futons; on the wall there was a TV and Wanda could see three different gamer consoles with the respective controls. This really had become more than a studio and more like a game room inside the house, and whenever America and her friends were up for a sleepover this was the place they stayed in

You were standing at the bottom of the stairs, scratching the back of your neck waiting for Wanda to say something. The young woman walked around the place, her eyes following the different patterns, the furniture, and then to the pictures decorating one of the walls. In there she could see the pictures of your younger self with your parents, some of you and your friends, and then America and her friends. Wanda softened slightly, her eyes falling into one picture that had a baby America clinging to you, behind the both of you were your parents smiling happily at the picture. For all your bravado, and rudeness, these were the glimpses of the real you that Wanda found endearing; she turned around to see you fidgeting near the stairs, as if you had been waiting her approval.

There was a single moment in which she found herself looking directly into your eyes. You were trying to hold yourself in a casual manner, trying always to look as compose and in control as you presented yourself most of the time. But right now, you were just nervous and Wanda couldn’t help but think you were looking cute, and apart of her was hoping perhaps, this sudden nervous trait of yours was because of her.

“This is a game room, you know that, right?” Wanda finally exclaimed, her lips curling slightly. “And it looks like the playground of a 15-year-old teen.”

You crunched up your nose lifting your finger, “now look here, this is a pretty decent game room, and it fits the needs of a couple of orphans that wanted to make this a good place to play.”

Wanda chuckled making her way to the laptop, you followed her soon after sitting down on your favourite chair while putting your mobile out.

“We haven’t changed anything, you know?” You finally revealed, Wanda took a seat right beside you tilting her head with curiosity. “I mean, this is how dad decorated it. Sure, we added some things, and some pictures and games but…dad decorated it himself. He…he was a 15-year-old at heart.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Wanda started but you stopped her waving your hand away.

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry, I just…you made me remember that discussion with mom.” You shrugged then. “I think, America and I never thought of changing this one room, the rest of the house has to go through some renewals, but this place…our last movie night was in this room. I think we never thought this place needs changing.”

It was the first time Wanda saw the vulnerability in you, the way your words tinged with sorrow and nostalgia, how your eyes held onto the glistening tears while your lips quirked upwards. You turned to Wanda, and in there she could see a strong woman that had been dealing with more chaos that she let on. Wanda hesitated for a moment before placing her warm hand on top of yours, her own features softening to offer you a single smile.

“It looks incredible, you know? I think that it really suits you and America.”

You snorted nodding before looking away, “so, let’s get to work then, I have a couple of ideas that may work for this occasion.”

Wanda accepted the sudden change of topic with a short nod, but she didn’t miss the smile playing on your lips or the closeness you two were sharing at the moment. The young woman turned to the laptop to a word document you just opened, ready to start working.

“So, what shall we do?”

Wanda chuckled with her cheeks warming up, she too turned to the laptop opening her mouth to start sharing the ideas that had been in her mind for a couple of days. Your fingers moving fast on the keyboard, your own ideas being brought upfront until you and her engaged in a conversation you would replay in your mind for days to come.

___________________

Time passed by so quickly, by the time you decided to look at your watch it read 9 p.m.

Rain had stopped a long time ago, and the noise from upstairs came muffled by the close door of the basement. You were laughing at some silly story Wanda had told you about her twin, and the young woman was just grinning at the sight of your own smile. While you had never doubt Wanda was smart, this was the very first time you shared a conversation with the woman; her quick wit, alongside her opinions and her own ideas let her shine with a light of her own. She was not only smart, but also funny and soon you found yourself wanting to continue with the conversation, to not let go of the fuzzy shivering of your heart just as Wanda gestured with her hands, speaking excitedly about the arrangements in the main hall of Stark’s compound.

And while you seemed completely hooked by the woman sitting in front of you, Wanda was not in a better position.

It had been far too long since she allowed herself to get closer to anyone that was not pre-approved by Vision. She had almost forgotten what it was to give her opinion and to actually share her thoughts and her knowledge in a conversation. You were not only smart but funny, and while you and her thought differently on many topics, you were always up for a negotiation and a well-thought argument that Wanda loved to retort only to see your eyebrow twitched, and then the glint of disbelief in your eyes. It had been so long since Wanda allowed herself to be this close to anyone, to actually leaned in just to get closer to another person without breaking the distance to steal a kiss.

Wanda found herself relaxing into the banter, and as the night progressed she found herself longing. What for? She was scared to even go behind the answer to such a question. And still, she hoped for you to just do something and ended with her misery and her uncertainty. Of course, as soon as these thoughts flourish in her mind, another darker one came in, and soon she found the face of Carol Danvers sneaking in just to remind Wanda you were already taken.

Her eyes flickered down to her feet, her heart tugging painfully in her chest. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, while her stomach dropped at the memory of you kissing the blond-haired woman, of that woman holding onto you in the Stark event.

“Hey, you okay?” Your hand rested tentatively on top of hers, Wanda let her green eyes focused on the hands before she nodded curtly.

“Yes, sorry I just…” She tried to explain herself, the tears just rolling slowly making her felt like an idiot. She was about to speak when your fingertips wipe the tears away.

You were frowning deeply, Wanda found herself lost in your eyes and the honest concern she saw written in them.

“Wands…” You started but Wanda just shook her head standing up, she put on her best smile stretching her right hand to grab yours.

“Come, I think we need a tea or something, and the kids have been far to silent for my taste…”

Your frown deepened, but you decided to not make a comment about it. You grabbed Wanda’s hand in yours and soon you were following her close behind, her hand was warm against yours, your heart beating painfully in your chest. The first floor was in complete darkness, the only light coming from the living room that had the TV on, a movie was playing there, and on the sofa were Billy, Tommy and America, all snuggled up covered by a blanket and pillows to make it comfortable.

Wanda stopped on her tracks, her face softening at the sight.

She let go of you, stepping closer to the sofa and brushing Tommy’s hair away. The boy sighed turning slightly to snuggle closer to America, Billy was sprawled on the free space, and America had her hand wrapped protectively around to child’s knee. The whole scene was overwhelming to Wanda, the peace in her children’s face, the fact she could just let go of her worries knowing they were safe, that she was safe…

It was overwhelming.

Wanda never thought she would get to where she was at the moment, she never thought the day she met you that she would allow you to engulf her in a hug letting her sob for a moment. You stood there, making soothing circles on the young woman’s back not really knowing what to say, but making sure Wanda was following into the kitchen.

You sat Wanda down on the chair, turning towards the stove to start heating the water for the tea. The room was in complete silence, Wanda let her hand covered her face for what seemed an eternity until she gathered enough courage to start talking.

“You must think I’m weird, that I’m just this crazy person that doesn’t know how to keep her emotions in check.” Wanda blurted out glancing at the counter while wriggling her hands. “We were just having a good time, and I come and mess it up by crying and acting like an idiot.”

You stopped what you were doing, for a brief moment your back was still turned towards Wanda until you turned around facing the other woman. Wanda never looked up, but you didn’t need her too, not yet anyway.

“I think you are amazing, Wands.” You leaned back against the sink, your hands resting on the table. “But I guess, your life has not been easy.”

Wanda snorted bitterly, her arms wrapping around herself, she had not forgotten about Billy’s comment early that morning, Wanda knew you had listened to it as if that wasn’t enough, you had also seen the scars in Tommy’s back. You had seen her at her most vulnerable, after the party thrown for the school; Wanda was afraid to look into your eyes and discover disgust in your eyes. She was afraid to actually find in those eyes understanding, and sympathy…

The world around her froze in time, a pair of fingers placed tenderly under her chin. Wanda felt the air on her lungs tangled in her throat, she trembled to her very core when her eyes found yours in a single stare. Whatever she expected to find in your glance, it was certainly not the warmth emotion filled with affection and something she could not name. You smiled at her, your hand brushing lightly on her skin before putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” Your voice was soft, Wanda shivered shaking her head afraid to break the moment.

“I left my husband a couple of months ago.” She whispered placing her hand on your wrist. “He was not good to me or my children, and I just knew I have to leave before anything bad happen.”

It was not the whole truth, and Wanda felt bad at not being completely honest with you but in reality she was not ready to tell you the full story. How her life and that of the twins had been in danger, that the last time he had hit Wanda she was left to dead and taken to the hospital after Vision realized she could actually die. That he had used a cord from the television to hit Tommy on his back, and then had broken Billy’s arm. That he had threatened to kill the twins and then used Wanda like a breeding stock to keep her by his side.

Wanda was not ready to tell you, of all people, these things.

You opened your mouth wanting to ask something, anything, but you decided there was nothing else you needed to know. It is not my story to tell.

Natasha had said to you once, and now that you were looking into Wanda’s face, you realized, it was a story that the other woman needed to be ready to tell. You pressed your lips together, taking your hand away while stepping back a little.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.” You said the first thing that came to mind.

Wanda broke into a bitter smile, her mirthless laughter sending shivers down your back.

“People don’t usually know what to say when I tell the story, so it’s fine.” Wanda shrugged turning her back to you. “I’m still getting use to…everything, that’s why I’ve been going to Doctor Hope, and why I ended up here.”

You didn’t need to ask anything else, it was not secret that Natasha was part of a secret group that helped people victims of violence. You had even contributed at some point with money and contacts, but it had never been your forte, your stepmother was the one involved with the group. Knowing that Wanda ended up at your doorstep because of this, because she was running and hiding stirred something deep inside your heart.

You felt the need to protect her and the twins.

“I guess it doesn’t help that I’m an asshole to you most of the time, eh?”

Your commented caught her off guard, and soon Wanda was actually laughing. You joined her sitting on the counter while leaning against your hand. Wanda put her hair away shrugging.

“You were the only one actually being you around me.” She replied. “So, I kind of appreciated you being an asshole, it helped me focus my anger against someone different than me.”

You snorted, bowing mockingly at her.

“I’m always glad to be of service, Princess.” Then, in a moment of inspiration you winked at her and added. “I can always be of some use, and continue being an ass to you, so you have someone to fight with.”

Wanda shook her head, this time around her face transformed into an expression you were far too afraid to decipher. Her eyes gleamed, and her lips broke into an easy smile.

“Even though your proposal is very tempting, I think I like you more now.” Wanda opened her eyes really big she waved her hands stuttering with a full blush on her face; you arched your brows looking at her amusedly.

“Oh, you like me now? Really?” You teased, and she stood up rather fast stepping back making her way to the kettle.

“Oh, shut it, you know what I mean.” She tumbled over her words, with her back to you to hide away her embarrassment.

“Yes, you mean you like me, woah, Princess I didn’t know you swing that way…” Your laughter died off when the dishcloth she was using hit you in the face. “Hey!”

Wanda rolled her eyes trying to control her flustered cheeks, she mocked glare at you before spreading her arms rather exasperated.

“Can you help me with the tea, please?” She huffed when you chuckled jumping to the floor.

“Sure, Princess, anything you want.” You said winking at her, “after all, this is why you like me…”

“God, you’re impossible.” She mumbled trying to ignore her beating heart, or the grin threatening to break upon her lips.

You chuckled grinning smugly at her, nothing much was said about the topic, you didn’t press for more information and Wanda was just glad to share her story at her own pace. The silence that followed your teasing was one of pure familiarity, with you working alongside Wanda while making sure the tea was served with honey and milk.

“Have you ever been to Kamar Taj?” Your question came out of the blue, Wanda made a face blinking a couple of times while shrugging.

“Not really…” She answered tentatively not really knowing where this question came from.

“Well, let me show you…” You fumbled with your mobile, the tip of your tongue poking through your lips as you search for the images. “And, let me tell you the story of how America and I got therapy after our parents accident.”

Wanda found herself admiring you from afar, your words held just a tinge of sadness in them, but your eyes gleamed with peace and affection as you located the pictures and started showing them to Wanda. You opened up to her, telling Wanda about Stephen and Cristine, about Tony and Pepper, and how everyone came together for you and your sister. You were talking excitedly, your hands expanding the sights you had seen in Asia, but Wanda’s eyes had never left your face, or your expressions…She had never stopped looking at you, and if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed the deep affection gleaming in those green eyes.

__________________________________

Monday morning came with more troubles than solutions.

You hit your head on the desk, your assistant huffing in disapproval while she continued with your schedule for the rest of the morning and the afternoon. You had just come to the office after an accident in the production floor, some of the computers had malfunction, and half of the operation had stopped until IT and the facilities team to fix everything up.

The only thing holding you up, was the memory of your weekend.

Saturday ended with Wanda staying at your home, the twins were fast asleep and it would have been rather dangerous to just carry them in the middle of a cold night to their house. They were warm, and the chilly night could make them sick, or so you reasoned with Wanda; you won the argument, and she slept with the twins on the basement, while America kept on shooting you knowing glances you didn’t even bother to acknowledge.

Then, Sunday came in and Wanda decided to repay your generosity with breakfast.

Everything had been too damn domestic, and you had woken up on Monday morning panicking. What the hell were you doing? What were you thinking? Wanda was straight as an arrow! She had children! She was married! Sure, her husband was an asshole and no longer in the picture but she was way beyond your league!

She probably didn’t even like women or was curious about being with one! She was probably…

“Really, Y/N, if you’re not going to pay attention to me I’m not going to be here to pass you notes or messages to know what you’re supposed to be talking about.” Maria Hill crossed her arms glaring at you with such intensity you sometimes doubt who was the boss in here.

“Sorry, Maria, I’m…I’m just distracted.”

“No shit, boss.” Maria sighed stepping forward before sitting down. “Spill, I cannot do my job and you certainly can’t do yours if you keep this up, what happened?”

You sighed leaning back on your chair while glancing at the ceiling, you had been an emotional mess all weekend but it only worsened as soon as you woke up that morning and you realized you missed Wanda. Which was completely ridiculous since you had just spent the weekend with her, and it wasn’t even that extraordinary! You both had worked on the preparations for the festival, you had just spent the weekend with a friend and her children. Nothing more.

“I just had the strangest weekend ever.” You mumbled knowing Maria had her brown eyes fixed on you, more than an assistant, Maria had become in your confident whenever you felt the world on your shoulders.

It was a relief, and the woman always had the right words and the right advice for you. She was a good person, and her willingness to usually put up with you was enough to make you trust in her.

“Strangest…how?” She inquired placing her tablet on the table.

You chuckled crowing your hands on your abdomen, tilting your head you locked eyes with her.

“My neighbour, America’s teacher, we…Natasha selected us to organise the Winter Festival for the school,” you shrugged looking away, you missed the flash of recognition in Maria’s stare. “She came home and we just…I don’t know, we just talk and kinda bond…you know?”

Maria cocked a brow not missing for one second your wishful stare, or the inflections on your voice. She had heard from Natasha the strange hate/friendship relationship you had developed with your neighbour. But this was the first time she saw it in action; now Maria understood why Natasha had decided to meddle in it.

“And you bond…physically?” She asked half amused and half exasperated at your reaction.

You jumped startled, your cheeks burning red just as you started stuttering an answer.

“N-no! Of course not!” You shook your head standing up and passing left and right, “I was just…we were just…it was a friendly bond! You know? We talked about ourselves, and our lives and shit like that.”

“Charming.” Maria rolled her eyes once more, she then grabbed her tablet again clearing her throat. “Look, Y/N, I think that you have to wonder why this non-physical bonding with a neighbour you found infuriating is affecting you so much.”

You stopped your passing turning to the window, the sight before you were that of a busy city filled with people coming in and out of the streets. You could feel Maria’s eyes on you, she was waiting for your answer and you knew you needed to concentrate on the oncoming meetings; besides, she was right. Why were you so worked up about the weekend? Why were you so affected?

“I just…I’m not sure.” You dropped your shoulders turning slightly. “What else do I have for today?”

Maria pressed her lips together, she was very tempted to pressing the matter and get more answers out of you. But she had been by your side long enough to know, it would be pointless you were far too confused to actually get into a serious talk. By the time you turned to face her, Maria knew you were in full business mode and whatever had been distracting you was pushed deep inside your mind, avoiding your emotions was something you were very adept at.

“You have lunch with Carol Danvers.” Maria smirked at your reaction; you winced placing a hand at the nape of your neck. “She actually made it official; we still had some contracting with the government and since she is the new liaison for Camp Davis you couldn’t say no.”

You nodded curtly, knowing the meeting was Carol’s way to get your attention on a topic you had been avoiding for more than a week. When did you relationship with Carol changed so much? Why did it change so much?

“And then, after that you have a business meeting with Edwin Jarvis, you know? The CEO from Vision Enterprise.” Maria furrowed her brows putting up some files. “He is looking to get some investment in AI technology and has some interesting ideas.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your mind still on Carol and Wanda.

“I think I’ve heard of him, Tony mentioned him at some point.” Maria clicked her tongue and this time around you did pay attention to her. “What is it?”

“This individual, he is also being investigated.” She replied softly, your eyes open slightly taking a seat on your chair you leaned forward.

“Go on, what is it? Should I cancel the meeting?”

Maria pursed her lips before shaking her head.

“He is being investigate for some fraud and industrial espionage.” Maria put the file in front of you, you turned to your screen reading the file she just sent to you. “It seems this is an ongoing matter, but there is also a sealed file about his wife and his children.”

“He sounds like the kind of individual I don’t want to be relate to, Maria.” You pursed your lips reading over the investigation for tax evasion and industrial espionage, the one on his wife and children was left blank and had a seal from the federal government on top of it.

“I know; however, Tony wants you to meet with him.”

This time around you couldn’t hide your surprised, you cocked your head to the side and then your eyes opened wide in understanding.

“Very well, what do I have to do?”

“I’m so glad that you always catch up once you have your mind out of the gutter.” Maria smirked leaning in while ignoring your sputtering protests.

_______________

The restaurant was packed.

Carol had chosen the restaurant right around the corner of your building, it was an old place filled with golden lights, and white tables with a darkened interior and sweet classical music dancing around the place. It was the home for old and new members of society, and it was the preferred place for the high ranking officers of the military when they wanted to make a good deal.

Your eyes swept the interior trying to locate the woman that was waiting for you, Carol waved at you from the far corner of the restaurant the table for two located it near the window right beside a beautiful fountain made of coloured water. The young woman wore her uniform, the signs that she had been in a formal meeting moments before meeting with you.

“Hey.” You greeted leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek, Carol smiled sweetly at you indicating the chair while calling over the waitress.

“Hey, thank you for coming.” She stated lowering her gaze for a moment before facing you again, you winced grabbing the menu and asking for something light and some water before focusing your attention on Carol.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You had been avoiding me.” Carol didn’t beat around the bush, she grabbed her glass of water and took a long sip with her eyes pinning you to your spot.

You shifted your weight leaning forward, your mouth opened ready to deny her words but unable to do so. In reality, she was right, you had been avoiding her; ever since she proposed to you the trip to Eastern Europe you knew the relationship should stop but you didn’t dare to do so, and this inability to get your relationship clear with Carol had been the downfall of you affair with her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” You replied lamely, Carol sighed dropping her face her voice marked with the vulnerability she felt at the moment.

“I think you know I’m in love with you.” Carol took a deep breath, her lips trembling as she spoke. “I’ve been trying so hard to make you fall for me, I…I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this relationship, but I always thought…I really want you to come with me, Y/N, let me…let me be the one for you, just as you have become the one for me.”

The room filled with heavy air, and deafening silence.

Your heart shrank at her confession, and your hand stirred at your side wanting to reach out and grab Carol’s hand. The blond-haired woman offered a single smile, but it was quite evident to you that tears were threatening to leave her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled passing your hand through your hair. “I was not fair to you, Carol.”

Carol snorted looking out of the window, the waitress chose that moment to bring the food and, as soon as he was gone you continued.

“I do love you, you know? I never thought of this to be jus an affair, and I…” You trailed off not knowing how to explain to Carol that you tired, you really did.

She had always been special, a friend that you could always turn to whenever things went bad or good, she had been there for you when your parents died and when Shuri broke your heart. At first you hadn’t understood why she was so unconditional until, one day while you were hating on yourself and the world she kissed you and the affair was born. It was supposed to be with not attachments, and yet Carol couldn’t help herself once she got to see a side of you she had never seen before. You wished it had been the same for you, but you always thought this relationship was nothing more than two good friends helping one another.

You had been unfair. And Carol didn’t deserve it.

“I wished I had fallen in love with you, Carol. I really do.” You finally confessed, this time around you did stretch your hand and grabbed hers in yours.

Carol lowered her stare to your hand, tempted to just pull away but giving into the comforting touch. She swallowed down her tears, her lips breaking into a bittersweet smile.

“I thought this meeting would be different, you know?” Carol let out a breath, pressing her lips tightly. “I thought perhaps…”

You lifted her hand, leaning in placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“I’m still here, you know?”

Carol nodded hesitating before speaking, “so, will you go with me? Will you…give us a chance?”

You dropped your eyes, your mouth opened then close again.

“Would you stay? Would you try to give me a chance?” You asked back, and just for that brief moment Carol was tempted to say ‘yes’, but the truth was she could not stay.

Carol had worked from an early age on her dream to be part of the Airforce, to get on top of her game and surpass that boy’s club that had dominated the Airforce for far too long. She and Maria had been working hard on this, and when she was offered the position, Carol knew what she had to do. Her love for you was there, and you had been the only one that made her doubt her career choices; Carol had been ready to say no, until she talked to Maria again and was faced with her dream and her goals.

I know you love her, Carol, but are you ready to leave your dreams behind for someone, anyone? Are sure this won’t come back later on as a reproach for missed chances?

“I’ve been waiting so long for this.” Carol mumbled; you smiled nodding.

“I know, and you don’t know how proud I am. You deserve this, Carol, and you will always count with me to be there for you.” You hesitated before standing up and putting your chair closer to the blond-haired woman, Carol opened her eyes letting out a chuckled when you finally put your chair closer to her.

“What are you doing?” Carol laughed when you fixed everything so you would be closer to her, without letting go of the hand you had been holding for comfort.

“Just moving closer to you, you have always been my friend, Carol, regardless of what happened I do love you, and you are my friend, I hope you know that.”

Carol melted under your words, she returned her attention to her food before speaking again.

“You are my friend as well, Y/N.” Carol looked back at you, “and that’s why I have to ask, are you…do you…what’s going on with Wanda, Y/N?”

“What? Why?” You leaned back, eyes opening at the sudden question.

Carol rolled her eyes, this time around she did look rather upset.

“Well, it is quite obvious something is happening, I’m mean the last couple of times you couldn’t stop talking about her, and then when we met at the supermarket you were…weird.”

You sputtered shaking your head looking away from Carol, “no, no, nothing, I just…she is…she is the mother of the children America babysits for, nothing else.”

Carol didn’t seem convince by your words, she took a sip from her water pursing her lips.

“Are you sure? I mean you look…” Carol could see this topic was not something you were ready for, you squirmed on your chair emptying the glass of water while playing with your food. “Y/N…”

“Nothing, there is nothing, she is just a neighbour… nothing else.”

The conversation changed afterwards.

For Carol it was quite evident you didn’t want to talk about the topic, and if she was going to be honest, she didn’t want to know. Those two different times she had seen you interact with the redhead; she had seen a glint in your eyes Carol was not familiar with; it was a glance she yearned to obtain from you, but it seemed to just be for a single individual. You hadn’t even look Shuri in such a way, and this was what made Carol hesitated about the situation.

But the time lunch was over, you and Carol had found peace in the conversation. You two found a common topic, and soon business was on the table while she asked for your opinion on the subjects that would soon dominate her life, while you asked about the oncoming meetings.

“I will miss you.” Carol said hugging you tightly, you hugged her back smiling softly while enjoying the woman in your arms.

“I’m going to miss you too, Carol.” She stepped back, but she was still close enough you could feel her warm breath on your face. “Carol…”

Your words were cut off by a pair of lips against yours, the kiss was slow tentative touch of the lips teasing you. Carol was flustered once she stepped back, she offered a smile that you returned with a shake of your head.

“Just a good-bye kiss.” She winked at you turning around and walking towards the parking lot.

You watched her leave, a heavy heart inside your chest wondering if you made the right decision by letting go of a woman that had shown you so much love in the last couple of months. You put your hands in your pockets turning round to walk towards your building, you couldn’t keep her by your side waiting to fall in love with her, that wouldn’t be fair with her, or with you.

With a last glance to the sidewalk, you stepped back and went back to your office, a weight you didn’t know you were carrying on your back finally lifting up and leaving you lighter and open to the world of possibilities you had been trying to bury deep inside your mind, a world of possibilities that had a name of its own: Wanda Maximoff.

________________

“Oh, I didn’t know you were a woman.” The man smiled charmingly at you, his hand stretched out while he glanced around the room as if waiting for someone else to come forth into the meeting. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you are a beautiful woman, but for some reason I have always thought of Y/L/N instead of your first name.”

You forced a smile at the absurdity of his comment, he merely laughed and went to take a seat to the left side of the table. You crossed stares with Maria who shot you a cold glare as a warning to keep your cool and not to do or say anything incorrectly.

“Right, I bet it is a common mistake.” You sat down as well leaning back on your chair while pointing with your hand the file on the table. “I’m glad I get to know you as well, Mr. Jarvis, I’ve been reading to your proposal and me and my team had a counteroffer for you.”

“Oh, a counteroffer?” Jarvis grabbed the file in his hands, he started reading while ignoring the rest of the room.

You had chosen the conference room of tenth floor for the meeting, the place was packed with only a couple of offices and some storage rooms that were the home of the material used on the production floor and the operations room. It was the most neutral ground you could find, more so after finding out how the man operated. The room was almost empty, no decorations on the walls, with a single window that was left facing the city. You let your eyes wandered to Maria who was sitting at the other end of the table, her hands busy with her tablet and her phone while she too made sure to watch the man closely.

“Everything seems to be in order but, I don’t get it.” He stated pointing to a section in the contract. “It says in here that you would only provide with money if I worked here, is that correct?”

“Yes, I prefer this kind of deals to be in a controlled environment.” You shrugged putting your hands together. “Our contracts go directly under the government, and we cannot risk losing any data because of unknown facilities.”

“My business is very secure, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Jarvis straightened up hardening his stare.

“I don’t have any doubts about that, but you have to understand this is part of the non-negotiables, this is the most secure red in the world and what you intended to do will require such facilities to prevent espionage. I think this is a pretty sweet deal for the both of us.”

Jarvis clenched her jaw close, his cheek burning up with embarrassment at being played at like a child. His eyes drifted to the contract, not only was he being ordered to work in some unknown facilities, he would also be made to sign a non-disclosure clausule and the rights for his technology.

“You are asking for far too much, Mrs. Y/L/N, and I'm afraid I'm not seeing the benefits such a deal will bring to me.” Jarvis leaned forward placing his arm on the table, his hand playing with the pen. “You are not the only company interested in buying this idea, and I have to say their proposals are more seductive…”

“And yet, here you are.” You leaned back against your chair, your eyes examining the man sitting in front of you.

Maria had done a good research of him, a married man he started his business thanks to a small inheritance on his father's part and then to the money left by his father in law. He had built a solid company in the industry of technology and entertainment, nothing too extravagant but enough to make him a notorious and well-adjusted member of society in Westview and Jersey. He had tried to jump into major leagues with a risky inversion that ended up with him almost in bankruptcy. Then, all of a sudden, his business got better and now he was someone selling away his ideas to the best buyer. It was then the investigation started leading Homeland and some federal authorities to be not only after him but also after some red of business people that had dedicated their lives to steal ideas of millions of dollars from others.

You knew you were not risking much in this deal, and quite honestly you would be more than happy if the man decided to go after another buyer, but right now your company was being targeted mainly because you were the number one in the business. Maria had assured you he would bite the bait, people thought your company while one of the most powerful in the world had lost its edge after your dad's death. They were looking for the weakest link to just get their hands in a portion of the business you dealt with. No one could imagine you had been dealing with one crisis after another with an iron fist and good advisors.

Jarvis seemed to think that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, he didn't seem to like the fact it was you the one he had to deal with. When he first acceded to this he was told he would deal with the old man in charge of Alchemax. He never thought he would need to deal with a young woman, but he could always start the deal before charming his way into her pants and getting something good out of this.

“You are right, here I am.” His whole demanour changed in a second, he opened up his arms, tilting his head he sent a flirty smile your way with his eyes twinkling at you. “I never thought I will be bested at negotiations by such a beautiful and young woman such as yourself, Mrs. Y/L/N, but I can tell you I feel confident of the business we are making today.”

Jarvis grabbed the pen signing the contract with a flourish, you smiled back lifting a single eyebrow to the man who was now trying to be charming and flirty towards you.

“This is the beginning of a great relationship between Alchemax and Vision Enterprise.” You replied standing up while offering your hand to the older man, he stood up as well taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

You never left the smile off of your face, Jarvis stood dangerously close to you towering above you while pressing you back. Maria was about to stand up but a single gesture from you stopped her. You lifted your head, your eyes going from those eyes to his lips and the smirk in the man's face was all you needed to know at the moment.

“I recognize when I have been bested by someone as beautiful as yourself, what o you say if we go out for dinner and celebrate this new deal?” Jarvis let his thumb brushed the skin of your backhand, he winked at you before continuing. “I know just the place you may like, and perhaps…Who knows? This could be the beginning of something else.”

You giggled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, the man holding back the victorious smile that was threatening to break on his lips.

“Something like what, Mr. Jarvis?” You asked, lowering your voice, Jarvis this time around straightened up.

“Something more pleasurable for the both of us…”

“Oh, but what about your wife and your children? Are they coming as well, Mr. Jarvis?”

Up until that moment, Jarvis had all but forgotten about Maria sitting at the far end of the table. His shoulders put back, the tension around his eyes heightening the wrinkles in his face, his eyes lost all flirtatious glint while he glared at the other woman. The subject of her wife was a sore one for him, and while he knew these people didn't know the truth it still made his blood boil whenever that fucking bitch was mentioned.

The embarrassment she had made him experiment was something he would never forgive her for, and he had most of his resources dedicated to find Wanda and the twins and make sure they were brought to him before he made sure they would never leave his side.

“Wife and children?” You clicked your tongue stepping back while taking the contract in your hands. “I would love to take your offer, Mr. Jarvis, but I do not mess with married men and, most importantly, with business partners. The facilities are ready for you and your team, and the security access has been approved, so you are free to start tomorrow if you want.”

“Now, wait a moment,” Jarvis stepped in trying to salvage the situation, his face once more red with embarrassment. “My wife and children are away with their grandmother, and I just wanted to make it clear my marriage is more a formality to a poor woman who thought getting pregnant would trap me into her delusions of love…”

You turned to the man, your face à mask of disbelief that soon changed into a blank stare. Jarvis smiled weakly at you, lowering his gaze while putting a hand on his pocket.

“I stayed for the children.”

You were not asking for explanations, but the fact this man was ready to give them told you what type of person he was. Maria had made her way to where you were standing her brows out together while ignoring the heated glare Jarvis sent her way.

“Please, Mr. Jarvis, no need to explain yourself.” You replied, shaking your head offering the same innocent and shy smile you had presented him a moment ago. “it is not my business, but either way, I will ask for a rain check since I already had a commitment this afternoon and was not able to accept your invitation.”

Jarvis sighed in relief putting on his charming smile once more. If he got to score something with you, perhaps he wouldn't need Wanda or the brats to get money out of them.

“Then, let me see what can be arranged for you and I to celebrate at a later date.”

“It's a date, now if you excuse me I have a meeting with the board in five minutes.”

You dropped your smile once the lift doors closed in front of you.

“God, I will need a fucking shower after this.” You shivered in disgust, Mary snorted writing something on her tablet.

“At least Fury is going to be happy.” She replied, shrugging. “It's a win-win situation.”

“Next time we're going to let him kiss your hand and try that creepy smile with you, okay?” You retorted crossing your arms. “The nerve of the man! To think I am straight at all!”

Maria laughed at your comment, she held onto her abdomen shaking her head before leaning back against the walls of the lift. You smiled at her lifting a single accusing finger to her.

“Next time, I would let everyone think you are straight and that Natasha is just a really good friend.” That silenced Maria who blushed profusely, turning away from you.

“That's not funny.” She grumbled.

“Oh, it is if you remember how you and Natasha came to be a couple.”

Maria winced trying to bury the memories in her mind, it wasn't so much she didn't treasure the moment she and Natasha found one another. It was just that it was also the most embarrassing time in her life and remembering That moment made her cringe from time to time.

“Anyway, I found the man disgusting, and I considered his wife.” You commented lightly. “He really is quite the character, you could find something else about his family?”

“No, it is a closed file, so I will need special clearance to see it.” Maria waited for a moment but you shook your head.

“No, it doesn't matter anyway, Fury is after the man for tax evasion and espionage. We don't even know what really happened with his wife.”

“Very well.” Maria exited the lift after you, afternoon was already falling and the lights of yellow and orange decorated the sky giving way to the darkness of the night. “Miguel just finished putting the security measures on the red we gave them, and everyone is already aware of what to do.”

“Good then, let's get this one last meeting over so I can go home to my sister…”

“... And your neighbour.” Maria smirked mischievously at you, her amusement growing when your feet falter at the mention of Wanda. “Are you going to tell her you and Carol are no longer together?”.

“Why would I do that?” You replied sharply trying to hide the blush on your face.

“Oh you know? Because you two are friends and there may be a possibility she wants to jump your bones?”

“God you and Natasha are going to be the death of me someday!”

Maria laughed following you inside the main hall towards the conference room. Maria found it amusing how Natasha picked up on this kind of things, now that she and Hope had talked about the topic and that Maria had seen your reactions and the way you talked about Wanda she had to agree that there was something there. Whatever it was, it brought a silly smile to your lips, it made you more relax and open. Maria was certaines you were not ready to admit these changes, or even the implications of your emotions, but there was time and perhaps these moments you were sharing with Maximoff while planning the Winter Festival were the push you needed.

There was only one thing that was worrying Maria and that was the truth behind Jarvis and Wanda. She hated lying to you, and even more so when someone as important as Wanda was for you was involved. But Natasha had assured her this was the best way to trap the man, and to make sure Wanda and her children were protected while Jarvis faced justice for a long time.

Y/N cannot know anything, Maria, please, she is already involved with Wanda as it is and knowing this could make her act harshly and we need to do this with care to trap the bastard.

“Anyway, I don't even think she… Likes me that way,” there is a hint of regret in your tone, your hand hovering above the knob of the door, you licked your lips frowning deeply before turning to Maria. “Not that it matters at all or anything just… WeWe're good friends, you know? And she is straight as an arrow… So,yeah…”

There was a moment of silence, Maria narrowed her eyes at you but you put on your best smile before opening the door and entering the conference room, whatever you were thinking or even experimenting at the moment completely forgotten as you took the reins of the meeting. Maria storing away this moment, she knew she would need to have a serious talk with Natasha once she got home.

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

Next chapter: Reader and Wanda are trying to deny what had become evident to everyone, Riri played her cards well and America is at a crossroads. The twins are getting far too comfortable, and the Winter Festival preparations create a tension between you and Wanda that you didn't dare to break.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #wanda/y/n #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda/reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda mcu

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jiminjamms · 1 year

Text

sex therapy :: 17. wicked games

chapter tags/warnings: family drama. mentions of masturbation. mentions of sex. infidelity/adultery. nonconsensual acts. manipulative undertones. strong language. classism.

word count: 3.6k

notes: this chapter incorporates the official manga relationships in the zenin household (link that illustrates the family tree). without further ado, i present to you the latest pov added to the fic: toji! likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji Fushiguro could not get his mind off of you.

Was that weird to admit?

When he last saw you two weeks ago in Teyvat’s meeting room, dolled up in that pretty pink dress, he had to wrestle every urge to push you onto his dick. All the times he had to retreat to his room afterward too—all because your one outfit had set off his imagination—forcing Toji to lock and then lean against his door so that he could palm himself through his sweats to dirty thoughts about you.

Gosh, what higher being in the universe allowed you to be such a hot and sexy tease? You sure loved prancing around with basically nothing and stealing looks at his colleagues as though he wouldn’t notice.

At this point, Toji was certain that he wasn’t the only therapist calling dibs on you. That most definitely pissed him off, though, because he explicitly told you that your pussy belonged to him.

Then why hadn’t you made another appointment these past two weeks?

Were you upset, perhaps flushed with utter denial, from the revelation that your husband had been cheating on you? Besides, he recalled how you had reacted so strongly to the information, racing away from the therapists who were just being honest with you.

In hindsight, Toji might have felt a teeny tiny bit bad about crushing your rose-colored glasses without much lead-up, but he was rarely the type to beat around the bush anyway. After all, he was the one to suggest a divorce in your first therapist appointment.

Of all things, echoing laughter was what finally grounded Toji’s wandering mind.

His green eyes fluttered rapidly, realizing that he had been in his office and staring blankly at his desk for... how long has this been? He glanced briefly at his tabletop clock. When he noticed how the time had advanced by thirty minutes, Toji rested his forehead on his left palm. “Damn...”

Given how he had a fully booked schedule today, he could not afford to dawdle in his thoughts. He had not noticed that half an hour had passed so quickly. How was it possible that thinking about one person (you) made him lose all sense of time?

He could do better than this.

‘Maybe you’re the one who needs a therapist,’ Megumi had recently pointed out to him in irony, and boy, do these words from his own eighteen-year-old son sting.

In contrast to himself, though, his co-workers had lately been in higher spirits than usual. That much Toji could ascertain given the hubbub that continued to filter into his suite. He would not have minded the phenomenon much had it not been for this gut feeling, this hunch, that you were the reason behind this change.

At his age, Toji has learned to mind his own business, but he still considered joining his colleagues by the reception desk to investigate. He stopped, however, upon noticing an article at his desk.

Right, this was what had derailed Toji from his work.

‘Look at this, boss,’ Geto had said when he first presented the printed webpage to Toji. ‘No wonder Y/N’s been lonely. Naoya literally took his side bitch to Mexico.’

The accompanying photo may be in low resolution, but Toji recognized the two figures hand-in-hand, stepping into a private jet. Their faces were shielded by baseball caps and face masks, their bodies clad in boring and baggy clothes. Consequently, Toji had to scoff, drumming his fingers along his cheekbone.

Another impeccable snapshot for our collection, huh?

Quite the scandal was brewing in Japan’s high society, not to mention how the illicit relationship involved your husband, and the therapists were merely here for the show. This was what the therapists were trying to advise you about before you promptly shut yourself away from them.

The love affair—especially involving a family as influential as the Zenin’s—should theoretically be all over magazines and newspapers, but any internet search for this image would prove futile. The Zenins were good like that, relying on under-the-table tactics to ensure that this photo would go nowhere.

Only thanks to his colleagues, who had extensive contacts throughout Japan’s many ranks, was Toji able to get his hands on this printed article before the magazine editors had taken them down.

Naoya, that cunning bastard.

If he had been in Cabo prancing around with his paramour, how did he so quickly realize that his images had been circulating among Japanese media? Or, more likely, was it his authoritarian father Naobito who informed his doltish son about the impending rumors?

Either way, Toji could not believe that he was affiliated with both assholes by blood, no less: Naoya, his cousin, and Naobito, his uncle. To think how he was involved again with the relatives who he had sought to avoid, Toji assumed that fate must love toying with him.

Already, growing up in the Zenin family was hell, to put things mildly: how they would obsess over power and prestige as though those two items alone determined one’s value as a human being, how they would scrutinize one’s every action because everything had to conform to their cookie-cutter standards, and then how they would abruptly cast aside those who strayed away from their ideals.

Toji, once an established member of the household, could speak from experience. Thus, blood relation meant nothing if these were the same people who had prayed for his downfall.

He recalled his relatives’ dirty glances when he announced his engagement twenty years ago, then the even nastier looks when he took his first wife’s surname as his own: Fushiguro. ‘She’s a woman too low for our caliber,’ Toji had been told.

He remembered the apathy he later received after his wife’s untimely death, followed by belittlement when he chose to marry again—this time, to a single mother. Perhaps he should have heeded his family’s advice for the last bit, but his decisions seemed right at the moment. During a desperate time, he provided his then-gradeschool son with a much-needed maternal figure as well as a stepsister.

His personal life already made him a deviant among his relatives, so when his family discovered his therapist ventures earlier this year, Toji was not surprised to be severed from the household he once had been considered to lead. Well, Toji was more relieved than bitter, anyway. He could now live life on his terms without worrying about what his father’s uncle’s second cousin twice-removed or some crap like that thought about him and his son.

As he gazed upon the pixelated photo again, he sighed and wondered: was this how low the Zenins have stooped since they had expelled him? A centuries-old bloodline built on relationships with the public and the powerful, now resorting to bribes and threats to sweep scandals under the rug? While watching the Zenin clan burn from afar was entertaining, the situation was also pathetic and sad.

To also think that his moronic cousin Naoya was now not only the household heir but also the current CEO of the family conglomerate. Not to mention that the family’s current patriarch Naobito seemingly turned a blind eye to Naoya’s flings. The older Zenin might have been a brilliant businessman back in the early ‘90s, but his elderly brain had deteriorated too far to see how, at this rate, his son would eventually drive the company and the prideful family to the ground.

Had you realized what you married into?

Probably not, but you didn’t deserve this.

Or, to put things the other way around, the Zenin family didn’t deserve you.

“Yo!”

Toji shot up from his seat just as his door crashed against the wall.

He turned to the sound’s source in surprise. Leaning against the entryway stood a personage with his white lab coat draped over his unsurprisingly shirtless chest. The incomer crossed his thick arms over his half-exposed tattoos, but one such arm frees itself to greet Toji with a mocking wave.

“Sukuna,” the older therapist grumbled, “I’ve told you to knock first.”

“Why?” the pink-haired man challenged, not caring how this must have been the hundredth time he heard the order. For him, this was in one ear and out the other. Rather than mind the complaint, he inspected his newly filed nails. “Worried I would walk into you fingering Mrs. Zenin again?”

“Only because that’ll make you jealous,” Toji retorted with equal spite, to which his colleague chose not to respond anymore.

Besides, as a savvy businessman, Sukuna knew how to pick his battles. He might come off as crude, but only because he understood that, with his financial acumen and incredible connections, he was an indispensable asset.

After some silence, Sukuna’s chest rose and fell with a long sigh. “Well, check your schedule, Fushiguro. You have an appointment coming up now.” Not only was he the most well-organized therapist but also the current receptionist on duty. He then huffed again. “Tsumiki’s mom has been waiting for you. I don’t know how you deal with such an impatient bitch. What the hell am I supposed to do when—"

And a hand shoved his face away before he could finish.

Sukuna, flinching from the unexpected approach, recoiled at a beaming woman that peered in from the door frame. Anyone would immediately notice that the overly excited client was beautiful. The plush of her full lips, the gentle arches to her face, the roundness in her doe-like eyes—her looks were akin to an angel constantly in awe. Most people could hardly believe that, with her youthful looks, she actually had a university-aged daughter (with whom Toji could see a strong resemblance, too).

Meanwhile, her large brown eyes scanned the office—the posters, the couch, the nearby mirror—until her gaze landed on Toji and lit up.

“Honey, I’ve missed you!”

Before someone could stop her, the woman welcomed herself into the premises, her lithe limbs swaying with her graceful figure. She sported a simple navy dress that contrasted with her true self because, as far as Toji knew, this woman was anything but simple.

In fact, as she sashayed into the room uninvited, Toji remembered the paparazzi pictures still sprawled on his desk. He caught Sukuna’s maroon gaze and scowled.

This is why I tell you to knock.

Hurriedly, Toji then pushed the photos under some files just as his client seated herself in the sofa seat closest to him. She then turned to her escort in the hall. “Thank you, Sukuna. You’re such a wonderful man.”

She might be oblivious to Sukuna’s irritation, but Toji did not miss the way his colleague hid a gag and rolled his eyes. “M'kay, whatever,” the pink-haired therapist muttered as he slinked back into the corridor.

Then, when Sukuna shut the door with him, she pressed her rosy lips together. “Aw, Strawberry Boy doesn’t want to join us. Guess he likes to play hard to get.”

“Mari,” Toji started, placing his right ankle over the other knee. He rested his back against his chair and held his hands behind his neck. “I do not think neither Sukuna nor any other therapist here is interested in you. Therefore, if you are seeking a summertime fling, I’d suggest you pursue someone else.”

Shot down, an exasperated Mari tossed her dark locks to one side, a die-hard habit of hers. “Like who?”

Like Naoya.

It was hilarious for Toji to think about how he was entangled with his cousin’s mistress, the very same lover in that paparazzi photo with the young executive. In fact, Toji had this theory that Naoya sent Mari here as a Trojan horse, a seemingly harmless client whose actual intention was to gather intel for the Zenin CEO from afar, a pretty façade to lure others into ruins. He didn’t have much evidence to back up the suspicion (yet), but he knew Naoya for long enough to be familiar with the silly games he’d play. Did Naoya and Mari really think that Toji would be so naïve?

“Well, in Tokyo, there are plenty of ways to meet people your age,” he finally suggested and had to suppress a slight smile before adding, “Unless...you’re into younger guys?”

Mari narrowed her eyes but for a millisecond. Had Toji not been at the top of his field, he would not have noticed. Nothing, however, got past him.

“But,” she responded, “I still like you most because you give me your time, Toji.”

Interesting. Because that would mean Naoya had been too busy for his poor sweetheart, hm?

No wonder Mari had been so frustrated. Life must be tough when one was merely the mistress of the Zenin Corporation’s CEO. Not only was Naoya Zenin a mediocre performer in bed, but the homewrecker role also came with no fancy balls, no formal recognition, and—if the affair was well-hidden—not enough public attention either.

Pity.

Toji leaned forward in one fluid motion, resting his elbows on his desk. “Do not misunderstand my intentions, though,” he clarified while lacing his fingers. “I spend time with you because, as your therapist, I am sadly obligated to do so.”

The woman frowned.

“Now, that’s not nice,” she pointed out, allowing her staccato to afflict him with guilt. "That’s not how to talk to your wife, my dear husband.”

And Toji snapped.

“Ex-husband,” he corrected forcefully. His startled client jerked backward in her seat, but that didn’t matter because he had to sternly remind her, “You were the one who filed for divorce, remember?”

Toji liked to think that he was a patient man. Well, he had to be. As he grew up, the pressure that came with the Zenin spotlight taught him to exert self-discipline and emotional regulation, skills that became even more pertinent in his current role.

As a licensed practitioner now, Toji was obligated to treat all clients equally regardless of background. But under no circumstance could he remove all biases when this was the very woman who split up with him, leaving his son Megumi and his stepdaughter Tsumiki under his care. Therefore, she had quite the audacity to keep visiting him at his office and still call him her husband, especially since she was Naoya’s mistress!

How sinister life could be. For years, no one—not even Toji himself—would have seen this coming: how his second wife would leave him, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ on the divorce papers, only to become his first cousin’s secret girlfriend.

His sudden confrontation, however, must have caught Mari off-guard, for she began twirling at her strands again. “Just because we aren’t married anymore does not mean that I don’t think about you. It’s been so long since we’ve—"

“Three days,” Toji interjected. He had to hold his breath before his annoyance controlled him completely. “The last time you saw me was three days ago. That isn’t much long ago at all.”

The silence that ensued was admittedly awkward until Mari suddenly stood up.

For a moment, Toji had to hide his relief thinking that the appointment would end earlier than anticipated, but he should have known that Mari wouldn’t leave that easily. Instead, she approached him in slow steps, encircling the seated therapist like a vulture.

When she drew near, her hands skimmed up from his brawny arms to his equally well-built shoulder blades, gliding over his lab coat before her warm palms began to knead at his tired muscles.

“I...think about you more than I’d like to admit,” she whispered, an incantation that could set any lustful man’s heart ablaze. Her fingers continued to massage him in slow and circular motions, the gentle pressure over tight knots melting into a calm and comforting rhythm. “I care about you so...don’t be mean to me, alright? The words you sometimes say, they hurt me a lot.”

Her delicate hands crawled up to his chin next, her left thumb tugging at the plush pillow of his lower lip. The most dangerous thing about Mari wasn't how she embodied a young lady’s exuberance with a mature woman’s elegance. Rather, it was her ability to place spells like these. Back when he had less self-respect, Toji might have forgiven her and caved in, her simple but flirtatious touches like trances that could crumble his resolve.

But you still fuck your ex-wife?

Of all moments, your words from weeks ago decided to haunt him now, your revolted expression a clear image in his memory. His heavy-lidded eyes batted quickly as he came to a realization: Why was he doing this?

In the revelation, Toji stopped Mari’s wandering hands from traveling toward his black slacks.

“Mari,” he said very firmly. As he pulled her away from him, his green eyes held her shimmering brown ones. “No.”

“What?” Given the woman’s visible surprise, Toji could also imagine the smoke that fumed from her nose. After all, this was the same man who once would go weak on his knees for her. Mari stepped back, folding her arms defensively. “Why not?”

“You say that my words hurt you, but I would argue that you’ve hurt me far more,” the therapist explained. As he regained composure, he twirled his chair so that he could face his client squarely. “Have you heard? Your own daughter Tsumiki isn’t even returning to Tokyo for her university’s summer break because she is too ashamed to see you.”

“Good!” she shot, surprising the man with her soured temper. “Would not have cared to hear from her either! Tsumiki had always sided with you and your urchin-headed son. But you know what? You’ve changed, Toji. You, and all the other therapists here, too. I don’t know what has been up with you four, but this clinic was far better back when Naoya worked here.”

Toji had a talent for hiding the whirr behind his thoughts, but he could not conceal his surprise this time. Although he wanted to, he never bothered to mention Naoya in his appointments with Mari before. However, it turned out he didn’t have to be the first one to bring up his cousin since Mari did so herself. Had she not reminded him, Toji would’ve forgotten that Naoya was once a sex therapist too, the family pair once working several doors away from each other.

Since the opportunity already presented itself, Toji took the chance to inveigle his ex-wife. He stood up from his office chair and closed the little gap between him and his glaring client.

“Let me tell you something,” Toji started, his voice low but steady. “You genuinely think Naoya is all that great of a person? That man has received countless complaints from his former clients about manipulation and derogatory remarks. He’s disrespectful. He’s deceptive. He's a complete con man. Therefore, I would actually argue that our office is much, much better without that elitist and misogynistic asshole.”

Come on, woman. Take the bait. I’m waiting. Three, two...

“Naoya is not that kind of person,” Mari erupted, likely faster and with more fury than she intended.

Well, that was easy. Toji appeared unruffled from the outside, yet he grinned inwardly.

While he paid no mind to how the woman shook her hands from anger and flung a weak fist into his strong chest, he did—however—find more amusement when she added, “Spreading false rumors about your own relative doesn’t make you the bigger person.”

Unfortunately for her, she tended to act and speak before she thought, not realizing that rushing to Naoya Zenin’s side made her suspicious.

“What? Do my claims about ‘my own relative’ upset you that much?” Toji challenged, quoting her words. He rolled his shoulders back after pushing the woman’s hands from his pectorals. “He’s my baby cousin, so naturally, I have seen his good and bad sides. Just throwing that out there. Unless,” his voice then dropped into a deep bass, “for some reason, you know something I don’t...?”

The inflection in his tone was purposely inquisitive, and he raised an innocent brow with his questions. He could see the emotions that threatened to spill past her walls, from how she furrowed her brows in contemplation to how she pursed her lips in wrath.

But Mari bit her tongue at the very last moment. “No,” she quipped and folded her arms defiantly. “Naoya is not my business.”

Sounded rehearsed, but oh well. The paparazzi photos from their recent Mexico getaway might prove otherwise, though.

“If you say so,” Toji shrugged.

He was satisfied enough with Mari’s reactions to his cousin’s name, and he liked thinking about how two heartless people had found passion in each other. Just as Toji retreated to his seat, a knock rapped at the door and opened to Geto at the entrance.

“Time is up, boss.”

Even as the appointment ended and was followed by other clients that day, Toji’s mind buzzed into the evening.

Call him obsessed, but—for himself, for his son, for his stepdaughter, for his colleagues, and for you—he sought revenge. As Toji mulled over his strategy in his home library that night, he could feel himself about to detonate like a time bomb when the apartment buzzer rang unexpectedly.

“Megumi!” Toji’s low timbers boomed, hoping that his son would hear him from his room upstairs. He chased toward the entryway in hurried steps, calling the teenager’s name again because only the boy’s high school friends would be visiting at this hour. Toji swung the door open. “Megumi! Yuuji and Nobara are downst—”

His words vanished when, in the place of two bubbly teenagers, there stood you.

You raised your gaze from the ground, the overhead lighting leaving a warm glow on your features as you met Toji with reddened and lachrymose eyes.

“Can...we talk?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: 1) For me, this was another challenging chapter to write, as I balanced between introducing the many layers behind our main therapist and inundating you—my lovely readers—with too much information without adequate context. 2) Originally, I had named Mari something else. I changed it because her name eventually reminded me of a different anime character and I didn’t want the association. Haha.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @moodpi @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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haunting-heroes-creative-games · 6 months

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❄️ Haunting Heroes DPxDC Winter Advent 2023 ❄️

The Haunting Heroes DPxDC Discord Server is happy to announce its first official event: Haunting Heroes Winter Advent 2023.

❄️ ABOUT THE EVENT ❄️

🔹 What is Winter Advent? A DPxDC (Danny Phantom and DC Comics crossover) winter event to celebrate the winter holidays and the end of the year. Each day has two prompts you can choose from, along with a total of 6 free days where you can create anything you want!

🔹 When? December 10th to December 31st (2023)

🔹 Where?

Tumblr: If you post on Tumblr, feel free to tag this blog @haunting-heroes-creative-games and use the tag #hauntingheroesadvent23 so we can find and reblog your submissions

AO3: You can submit to our AO3 collection. We'll close the collection on January 31st, so you have plenty of time to catch up.

Discord: You can share your work on our Haunting Heroes DPxDC (safe for work 18+) Discord server. To join, just send us an ask

🔹 What kind of submissions can we send?

We welcome all kinds of creations for this event: art, sketches, drabbles, one-shots, multi-chapter mania, you name it! You are free to combine or skip any days of your choosing. You don’t need to post every day in order to join! The most important thing is you have fun and enjoy these last few weeks of 2023.

We are so excited for this upcoming event, and we hope you can join us as we wrap up the end of the year and look forward to a thriving fandom in the next.

Thanks @disillusioneddanny for the calendar!! 🩵

[Full prompt list under the cut]

December 10: Free Day

December 11: Mistletoe // Snowman

December 12: Holiday Songs // Fireplace

December 13: Free Day

December 14: Candles // Winter Holiday

December 15: Stories // Hot Cocoa

December 16: Past/Present/Future // Sledding

December 17: Free Day

December 18: Stars // Gift Exchange

December 19: Workplace Holiday Party // Blankets

December 20: Free Day

December 21: The Grinch // Snowball Fight

December 22: Baking // Movie Night

December 23: Lights // Gingerbread House/Men

December 24: Free Day

December 25: Holiday Market // Cuddles

December 26: Family Time // Decorations

December 27: Free Day

December 28: Sleigh Rides // Love

December 29: Ice Skating // Money

December 30: Resolution // New Year’s Party

December 31: Year in Review

#haunting heroes #haunting events #hauntingheroesadvent23 #dpxdc #danny phantom #dc

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ladykailitha · 6 months

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Royal Pain Part 23

Hey, guys! This story is back, baby! And is the start of the four chapters that are all one run on chapter basically. You'll see why at the end of this chapter I held off until I got the resolution written.

I still have some room on the tag list but not much, only six slots. So once it fills up, that's it, I will take no more requests for the list once it hits fifty.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22

****

There wasn’t time for Eddie to see Steve and Wayne before the show, well for any of them to see their loved ones before the show, really.

Eddie’s knee was bouncing as hard as it was when he played in front of Steve for the first time.

They had all met Metallica at the sound check and had hit off, much to everyone’s surprise. But they had their own pre-show rituals and Corroded Coffin had theirs.

“Fuck,” Jeff said, coming back from the bathroom. “I think I’ve thrown up more times tonight than I did that time we all thought it would fun to main line tequila shots for two hours straight.”

Everyone winced in sympathy. That was a bad time for everyone all around.

“Who would have thought that after years of hard work,” Brian said, “that we would be opening for Metallica? Holy shit, this is our lives!”

Jeff smiled, looking a little less green around the gills. “Mandy said that if I waited for us to be ready, we would never take that chance,” he said, rubbing his hands on his pants. “And she’s right. We’ll never get a chance like this ever again.”

Gareth chewed on his thumb, gnawing at it worryingly. Eddie got up and put his arm around their youngest member. “Hey, this isn’t us selling out. This isn’t us giving up our dedicated following. This is us testing the waters to see if this is something we would enjoy doing.” He kissed the top of Gareth’s head. “We won’t know if we prefer smalls gigs at the Nightmare Hole over stadiums, if we haven’t played stadiums, okay?”

Gareth nodded. “I’m just being ridiculous.”

Jeff came over sat down on the other side of him. “No you’re not. It’s a valid concern. But Eddie’s right, too. How do you know you prefer intimate sessions over roaring crowds if you’ve never played to those roaring crowds?”

Gareth sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Brian tilted his head. “It’s the sound, isn’t it?”

All three other members turned to him. Gareth’s jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times trying to refute Brian’s claim, but found he couldn’t.

Jeff twisted in his seat to look at Gareth a little better. “Loud noises bother you?”

“Gare-bear...” Eddie said softly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Gareth blushed and looked at his hands, picking at the skin around his nails. He shrugged. “I never thought about it. Until Bri said something, I didn’t even realize that might be why.”

Brian had been digging in his bag while they talked and chose that moment to brandish his find. “Tada!” He waved the noise canceling headphones around like a flag. “Wear these!”

Gareth stood up and gingerly took them from Brian and help them tenderly. He looked up Brian like he was a god damned hero.

Brian tapped on them. “Just plug them into little sound device they gave us and bam! No more sound. Or at least very little.”

Gareth fell on his friend giving him the biggest hug. Brian hugged him back fiercely.

“I just want to make sure you have fun out there, okay?” he whispered.

Gareth nodded.

There was a knock on the door and a stage manager poked his head in.

“Five minutes guys.”

Gareth straightened up and composed himself as his friends strapped on their instruments.

They all filed out but Gareth hung back for a moment. Eddie turned and smiled at him.

“Come on,” he said fondly, holding out his hand. “Let’s go make some noise.”

Gareth laughed. “Hell yeah!”

Steve was showed to the VIP box where a lot of people were already there. Some of them he knew like Gethin and Miranda. Wayne, too. Most of them were complete strangers and suddenly he felt like he didn’t belong here.

Everyone else here was family. Steve wasn’t even a boyfriend. Not yet anyway. They had barely kissed the once before this landed on their laps. Eddie even had to cancel his tattoo appointment for today. That’s how new this all was.

He took a step back. Then two. He was about to turn and run when Miranda spotted him.

“Steve!” she called out, making every head turn his direction.

Which did not help his feelings inadequacy in the slightest.

She leapt to her feet and dragged him over to sit between her and Wayne.

“I’ll introduce you all after,” she said. “So glad you could make it. Jeff was saying he was worried you wouldn’t be able to because of work.”

Steve blushed. Which meant Eddie had been terrified. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

She raised an eyebrow and twisted around to look him in the eye. “You sure? Because it looked like you were going to bolt to me.”

Steve shook his head. “I would have found somewhere else to watch them. But I don’t belong here with family and the significant others. I’m just...me.”

Miranda slumped down in her seat with a sigh. “Steve, of course you belong here. Eddie only had two people in the whole world he wanted to see him open for one of the biggest metal bands in the world. And you’re sitting next to other one.”

Steve looked over at Wayne who chuckled.

“Do we have to tie you down, Steve?” he asked fondly.

Steve shook his head. “No, sir. I’ll be good.”

Wayne hummed. “Glad to hear it. Now quiet down. My boy is about to play.”

Steve smiled for the first time since arriving at the arena.

The house lights went down and the stage lights went up. Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin propped up on his fists. Eddie was always beautiful to behold, but fuck. Like this, under the spotlights? He was incandescent.

Eddie leaned into the microphone and introduced his band to the audience.

“We don’t usually play other people’s music, but we got permission to do this one,” Eddie said. He nodded to Brian, who grinned.

Corroded Coffin��s bassist began to play, the first few notes in and the crowd went apeshit. Completely crazy. Steve turned to Miranda. “Shit. I think I know this one. It’s Master of Puppets, right? From Metallica?”

Miranda nodded. “Damn straight it is.”

Steve was on his feet screaming in an instant. Everyone was cheering and having a good time. Maybe he shouldn’t be here, but until someone said something, he was going to cheer Eddie on the loudest. He loved his metal boyfriend with all his heart.

Eddie stumbled off the stage covered in sweat and higher then he’d ever been on weed. The rest of the band was jumping and screaming too. There was no greater feeling in the world.

They got better than front row seats to Metallica as they watched from backstage.

Even after thirty-five years they still knew how to bring the house to their knees.

They celebrated with the band for a bit before their families were ushered in. Eddie had even cleared it with the band for Dustin and his friends to come meet them but only for five minutes.

Dustin and Mike were freaking out, but Will hung back, still shy. But Lars came over and talked to him for a minute and that really made Will’s day. Hell, his entire year if he was being honest.

They all filed out leaving the ten family members alone with the boys of Corroded Coffin. Gareth’s parents and twin were fawning over him calling him brave and saying how proud they were of him breaking out of his comfort zone.

Jeff’s dad and Mandy’s mom were huddled over in the corner with the couple, just hugging each other tight. No words needed.

Brian had his sister and Cecil and his sister chatting excitedly, hands waving about as they broke down their favorite moments of the concert.

Eddie picked Steve up and whirled him around kissing him soundly on the lips. “Baby, did you see us out there?”

Wayne chuckled. “Oh just him and about thirty thousand other people.”

Eddie kissed him on the cheek fiercely. “I’ve never felt anything like it! It was so amazing.”

“You were amazing, Eds,” Steve said. “All of you were. It’s you guys were made for that stage.”

Eddie kissed him again. “I’m so glad you were able to make it! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to come.”

Steve kissed the side of Eddie’s mouth tenderly. “Well you see I had a cancellation this afternoon, so I was able to shift my schedule to accommodate my boyfriend opening for Metallica.”

Eddie blushed. “I’m sorry I had to cancel, baby.”

“I’m not mad, sunshine,” Steve assured him. “I’m happy for you.”

They kissed again.

Wayne waved Steve off so that he could hug Eddie. “I’m proud of you. Now don’t be getting too famous to see me, you hear?”

Eddie’s eyes welled up and his pressed his lips together. “I would never. I promise. I’ll always come to you, I swear it.”

Soon it was time to pack it all up and hit the road for home.

Everyone said their goodbyes and they all parted ways. With Eddie promising to stop by the shop tomorrow to reschedule his appointment.

Steve was beaming. High off the euphoria of watching Eddie live out his dream. He had never felt like this about anyone before and he couldn’t wait to tell everyone about how awesome Eddie did and how the crowd went wild for their music.

He really should have seen it coming. He should have been prepared. But he wasn’t.

Eddie didn’t come into the shop that day, because he called instead. Metallica had offered to let them opening for them for the rest of their tour. For the next two weeks, Corroded Coffin would be going on the road with one the world’s biggest metal bands.

And leaving Steve behind.

He fought hard to be happy for his boyfriend. But everything between them was too new. Too tender.

They didn’t even get to say goodbye in person and Steve was left with that feeling of not being good enough.

For anyone.

****

Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve #autistic gareth

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 3 months

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Introduction Post (Updated 3/23/2024)

Hello strangers and acquaintances, friends and enemies, welcome to the blog! I'm HotCheetoHatred (or just Cheeto, if you prefer) she/her, fanfic writer, broke college student, and mayonnaise hater! I mainly engage with Linked Universe, but I may occasionally reblog other things. My ask box is open!

For more information, including common tags and a planned chapter list for my fic Blood Drops on Roses, and links (heh) to some of my other works, see below the cut.

Note: BDOR is on Hiatus until May

Common Tags:

My general tags:

#cheetoasks #cheetotalks #cheetoanswers

Tags for my writing:

#bdor #blooddropsonroses #cheetowrites

Other common tags:

#not mine #cheetoficrec #pretty art #miracle whip propaganda #cursed consumables with cheeto #blessed consumables with cheeto

Chapter Lists (Subject to Change):

Blood Drops on Roses (Arc 1):

The Beginning

A Quiet Morning

Chasing Cuccos

An Oddity

Negotiations Pt 1

Negotiations Pt 2

Broken Pt 1

Broken Pt 2

Little White Lies

Reunion

The Matriarch

Doubts Pt 1

Doubts Pt 2

Failure

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 1

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 2

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 3

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 4

Settling In

Bargaining: The Third Stage of Grief

A Stressful Night (D:<)

Noble's Warning

The Wolf

Differences

A Friendly Spar

Rito

A Monster Fight (D:<)

Stitches

Guardians

Hateno Fort (D:<)

An Unfriendly Spar

A Covert Meeting (D:<)

Bows and Beetles; Stars

Too Quiet

A Frantic Search

A Call for Help

Heal

[Redacted]

A Midnight Snack

Little Talks Pt 1

Little Talks Pt 2

A Conspiracy

Rusting on the Forest Floor

Omissions

Sink or Swim

[Redacted]

Cooking Pt 1

Cooking Pt 2

Lunch and Dinner

The Heavy Mantle of a Hero

Ruse

Ancestry

Onto the Next Adventure

Centenarians

A Question of History

A Golden Rupee

Home

An Esteemed Guest Pt 1

An Esteemed Guest Pt 2

An Alley Fight

Fireworks Pt 1

Fireworks Pt 2

A Soft Night

Trust

Resolutions (D:<)

[Redacted] (D:<)

An Interesting Request

Returning

Scolding Pt 1

Scolding Pt 2

Interrogation

Lies

The Last Straw

[Redacted]

Storm

A Last Stand

Settling In

Warnings

A Sweet Memory

The Haircut (?)

Exchange

Blood Drops on Roses (Arc 2): Coming Soon!

Prologue (Really Subject to Change):

The Yiga and The Sheikah (7/7)

A Haircut (5/5)

Ballrooms and Buffoonery (1/1)

The Sword that Learned to Speak (2/?)

The Wolf that Learned to Sign

The Trap (1/3)

The "Prank"

Memories

Horseshoes and Storm-y Tempers

Runaway

The Wolf in the City

ABC's and Black Eyes

Alla'yall'd've

Revali's Gale

Daruk's Protection

Urbosa's Fury

Mipha's Grace

After the Calamity

No Air to Breathe

FebuWhump:

Individual Stories:

Day 1 — Helplessness (Time POV & Legend)

Day 9 — Bees (Wild POV & Wind)

Day 10 — Killing In Self Defense (Sky POV & Warrior)

Day 12 — Semiconscious (Four POV)

DAY 24: "I'm Doing This Because I Care About You" (Legend POV)

Modern AU "Wild's Wolf"

Day 2 — Isolation (Wild POV & Wolf)

Day 4 — Obedience Pt 1 (Time POV and Wild)

Day 6 — "You (They) Lied to Me" (Time POV & Wild)

Day 15 — "Who Did This To You?" (Time POV & Twilight)

Who Heals the Healer?

Day 3 — "Bite Down on This" (Four POV & Warrior)

Day 7 — Suffering In Silence (Hyrule POV)

Day 21 — Unresponsive (Legend POV)

The Captain's Sacrifice

Day 5 — Rope Burns (Wind POV & Hyrule)

Day 16 — Human Shield (Warrior POV & Legend & Twilight)

Day 17 — Hostage Situation (Warrior POV)

DAY 22 — "You Weren't Meant to be There" (Wind POV & Warrior)

Cracks in the Ice

Alt 7 — Last Words (Twilight POV)

ALT 5 —CPR (Legend POV & Wind)

The Yiga

Day 19 — "Please Don't" (Legend POV)

DAY 25 — Waterboarding (Wild POV)

DAY 26 — "help them" (Time POV & Legend)

The Dangers of Dungeon Diving

Day — 14 Blood-Stained Tiles (Warrior POV & Legend)

DAY 23 — Presumed Dead (Sky POV & Twilight)

A Sick Dog

DAY 27: left for dead ALT 10 — Last Man Standing (Twilight POV, Four, & Wind)

DAY 28 — "No... not like this" (Hyrule POV, Wild & Twilight)

DAY 29 — Not Allowed to Die (Wild POV & Twilight)

Congrats on making it this far, go drink some water. The list above will update alongside new releases. I will strive to release one chapter of BDOR or Prologue every weekend, and if I am putting out a lot of Prologue, know that the main fic is fighting me (even though it's already 90% written, it's just rude to me D:) and send help XD.

#I hope that I did this right #everyone else did a intro post #I wanted one too #bdor #blooddropsonroses #cheetotalks #linked universe #linkeduniverse #should I be doing an introduction post in the main tags?#sorry ya'll please be patient with me #I am new to the internet XD #intro post #blog intro #I SEE ALL OF YOU LIKING THIS BEFORE I FINISH IT #QUIT IT #cheetowrites

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bijouxcarys · 3 months

Text

𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 (𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Masterlist

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Description: Sometimes the pain of what should have never been, opens your eyes to what can be.

Tag list: @celestial-dragoness @whothefuckisanja @chromations @firethatgrewsolow @tangerine1969 @callmethehunter @m-faithfull @strsmn @angrychicksposts @ourshadowstallerthanoursoul If you'd like to be added to the list, just let me know!

Elena’s heart pounded with an urgency that defied control.

Not a single utterance pierced the air during the entire journey with John, the car navigating a path all too familiar—an unwelcome route leading to a place laden with memories she fervently sought to avoid.

The nauseating grip tightened, every palpitation threatening to dislodge the contents of her stomach. Tranquility seemed a distant prospect, and the turmoil within her hinted at a precarious tipping point.

Endless scenarios paraded through her mind, a relentless procession of possibilities. She longed for simplicity—an in-and-out, a resolution neatly packaged and concluded. That’s all it needed to be. Yet, a deep-seated intuition whispered that simplicity would elude her. It would stretch, twist, and linger far beyond necessity.

In no way, shape, or form, would David entertain brevity. Not today.

Beyond the apprehension surrounding David’s reaction to this clandestine mission, to merely collect clothing and cherished mementos, there lingered a reluctance, a hesitant acknowledgement of John’s presence. Despite the depth of trust she held for him, a trust entirely unparalleled, it failed to nullify his actions when under the influence of either one of two things—alcohol, or emotion.

Elena had yet to divulge the whole truth about her tumultuous relationship with David, and wouldn’t until she never had to see the man again. John, though privy to odd reactions to loud noises and sudden movements, remained unaware of the intricate web of torment. If John learned the full extent of David’s malevolence, he wouldn’t be accompanying Elena to retrieve her belongings; he’d be behind bars.

In their childhood, it demanded every ounce of Elena’s energy to sway John from the precipice of violence. Those boys, stationed defiantly across the courtyard, seemed hell-bent on making it their life’s mission to underscore the fact that Elena wasn’t as thin as the other 14-year-old girls at school. A relentless daily reminder that required her utmost effort to dissuade John from unleashing a physical retribution that, in her eyes, wasn’t worth it. Every. Single. Day.

In a lot of ways, she would have preferred to relive the secondary school taunting than experience another 30 minutes of David. What John would do in light of knowing the whole story was a scary thought, and one Elena wasn’t prepared to even prosper.

“El?”

John’s voice brought her out of her head for a moment, and she realised they were pulling up outside the block of flats she hadn’t returned to in a fortnight. Swallowing thickly, she willed herself to look at him.

“Are you alright?” his brows narrowed, eyes gleaming into her soul. She gave him a pathetic nod. “Y’know I can always go in myself, if ya just tell me what to pick u–”

“No,” she shook her head. “I… need to do this.”

“‘Kay…” he reluctantly accepted, but quickly added, “I am comin’ in with you though.”

“John, you don’t have t–”

“I’m not arguin’ about this, Elena, I’m coming in.”

Before she could make any further comment, John was already opening the door and stepping out into the road. A whimper left her mouth, her hand a foreign entity as she, too, pushed the car door open. It wasn’t even that hot out, but the sun felt like lasers burning right through every inch it touched. Sturdy trainers felt flimsy, the gravel beneath her feet as blatant as it could get.

She felt she was walking The Mile to her death.

“Hey…” John stopped her as they reached her floor, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him. Their eyes met, and his stomach dropped at the fear looking back at him. My God, she’s terrified… “It’s gunna be alright, El. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep…” she mumbled, her foot moving to take another step.

“I mean it.”

Looking back at him, she mustered up a grateful smile, and nodded slowly. “I know,” she whispered.

The air was thick as they reached the door marked ‘13,’ a feature she had once found excitement in—living in a flat with the same number as your birthday. Now, it just reeked of a hapless existence; a far cry from what used to be her sanctuary.

Do I knock? No, Elena, this is your home—oh, shit, it’s locked. Where’s that fucking spare key? She flipped over the doormat with her foot, expecting to see the familiar metal looking back up at her. Nothing. Fucking prick…

With bated breath, Elena lifted her hand and gave three experimental knocks to the door, each one ringing deeper and deeper through her ears. Please, don’t be home… What am I talking about? I need to do this now, I keep wearing the same two outfits, you idiot…

She daren’t look up as the door swung open. Instead, she fell eye-level with that stupid striped, skin-tight shirt that became a daily choice of clothing. In and out. Please. God, if you’re up there, just let this be simple. Please…

John stood by, arms folded, as the door opened, revealing the man he hadn’t seen since December. A tall fucker. Can’t have been any shorter than six-foot-four. And there Elena stood, a measly five-foot-seven in comparison. Shaggy dirty-blonde hair that bordered on a light brown, straight and perched just below his jaw. Parted at the side. Twat.

“Elena,” David sighed, instantly taking note of John’s presence behind her. “Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried si–”

“I don’t want to talk,” she told him, as sternly as she could. “Just came to get my things…” Without looking him in the eye, she squeezed past him. He looked over at John, his green eyes calm, before they narrowed as he turned to follow Elena.

“What the fuck are you talking about, ‘just came to get my things’?”

Elena sighed and spun to look at David, accidentally catching his eyes. The eyes that commanded her every move. Eyes she felt too worthless to meet. That’s because you are.

The click of the door shutting reverberated through the room, drawing their attention like a sudden snap of a whip. John, his gaze fixed with unwavering determination, stood his ground, sending a slow nod of reassurance to Elena.

“Did I invite you in?” David’s voice sliced through the tense silence, his words laced with thinly veiled hostility as he locked eyes with John.

“Nah, mate, you didn’t,” John replied with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze flickering past David to Elena. “I’ll be here, go get your things, El.”

David’s movements were swift, a blockade forming as he positioned himself to bar Elena’s access to the hallway. “Hold on a sec, darling,” he muttered, his voice a deceptive whisper as he edged closer to her, a somewhat predatory gaze fixed on her.

Elena shook her head, her eyes dropping to the ground as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Let me through, David. I’m getting my things, and I’m leaving,” she pleaded, her voice strained with emotion. In the charged atmosphere, she could sense David’s growing agitation, a palpable tension thickening the air around them.

John, alert to every subtle shift in the room, edged closer, ready to intervene if necessary. He noted the tightening of David’s fists with a sense of grim satisfaction, silently grateful for his own presence in that moment.

“Oi,” John interjected sharply, his voice cutting through the unease like a knife. “She said let her through, mate. You’re not makin’ this any easier by being a dick.”

Elena’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for David’s reaction, her shoulders instinctively hunching in a familiar stance of self-protection. A heavy breath escaped her lips as David begrudgingly relented, allowing her to slip past him and into the bedroom.

In the sparse living room, devoid of any personal touches, John and David locked eyes in a silent standoff, each sizing the other up with cloaked animosity. David’s gaze raked over John’s form, his mouth twisting into a snarl of disdain.

“I don’t know what she’s been telling you,” David began, his voice dripping with forced calmness. “I don’t know where all this has come from, either.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to regain control of the situation.

“She’s not told me anything,” John replied evenly, perching himself on the pine table behind the swamp-green sofa that was most definitely not of Elena’s choosing.

“Bollocks!”

“Now, now, no need for the language,” John retorted, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone.

David’s frustration simmered beneath the surface as he struggled to maintain his composure. “Look, we both know how she can get rowdy, and mouthy–”

“Naturally. I have known her since we were kids,” John interjected, his patience wearing thin as he pushed back against David’s attempts to deflect blame.

“You clearly don’t know her very well, then,” David shot back, his eyes narrowing in defiance as he locked eyes with John. “Now… I don’t want trouble with you, chief. But I think it might be best if you just leave our relationship alone.”

“What relationship?” John scoffed, his anger bubbling to the surface. “All I see is a controlling arsehole that, for whatever reason, has made it almost impossible for a girl to come and go as she pleases… Is that enough for your theory on why she’s getting as far away from you as possible?”

John watched as David’s face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and indignation, his resolve wavering under the weight of the drummer’s accusations. Taking a step closer, John met David’s gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“She’s not going anywhere, Bonham,” David growled, his voice dripping with venom.

With a resigned sigh, John shook his head. “I think she is, actually, Henning…”

Elena emerged from the bedroom, a large bag slung over her shoulder and a cardboard box tucked under her arm. She glanced briefly at David, her expression a dangerous mix of determination and apprehension.

“What the hell are you doing, Elena?” David demanded, his tone laced with desperation. “You can’t just walk out like this. I’m all you have. Remember everything I ever told you? You’ll have nobody.”

Elena’s jaw clenched as she fought to keep her emotions in check. “I’ll figure it out, David,” she replied, her voice firm despite the tremor of fear running through her. “I can’t stay here… with you, anymore.”

David’s eyes narrowed once again, the mask slowly slipping from his facade. “You’re making a mistake, Elena,” he insisted, taking a step closer to her. “You need me. You need us.”

Elena recoiled instinctively as David reached out to grab her wrist, her heart pounding at an instant. “Don’t touch me, David,” she snapped with a panicked tone.

But David refused to release his grip, his fingers tightening around her wrist. Digging into her skin. “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, low and menacing.

With a surge of adrenaline, Elena wrenched her wrist free from David’s grasp, her movements quick and decisive—just like the night she fled. “Get off!” she spat, her eyes flashing with anger.

John stepped forward, a protective stance as he positioned himself between Elena and David. “Touch her again, and your jaw will be on the back of your fuckin’ head, you piece of shit.”

David’s face contorted with rage, but he held himself back, his fists clenched at his sides. “Fine,” he seethed. “Go then. But don’t come crawling back to me when you realise you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.”

“No, the biggest mistake of my life was saying ‘yes’ to a drink 3 fucking years ago,” Elena squared her shoulders, her resolve unwavering despite the trepidation coursing through her veins. With one final glare at David, she turned on her heel and headed for the door, John following close behind.

As they made their way down to John’s car, Elena’s steps faltered slightly, her composure fluctuating with every passing movement. John cast a concerned glance her way, noting the tension in her shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes.

“You alright, El?” John asked softly, his voice tinged with worry as he took her things and secured them in the backseat.

Elena forced a tight-lipped smile, her facade inevitably crumbling as they settled into the car. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks in silent torrents.

John reached out to comfort her, his hand hovering with uncertainty over her shoulder. “El, it’s okay, you did it,” he murmured.

But Elena recoiled from his touch, her eyes flashing through an uncharacteristic anguish. “J-Just… drive, p-please… I need to get… get away,” she panted, burying her head in her hands.

“Okay, yeah, okay…” he rambled, immediately pulling away from the block of flats.

On their journey back to the Bonhams’ house, John couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of his head that Elena still hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding David. Seeing him grab her the way he did, her instantaneous reaction. There had to be something more. The Elena he knew would have spun around and clobbered the cunt in the face. Except, he reminded himself, this wasn’t his Elena. This was a shell of the girl he grew up with. And he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to coax her back.

Elena felt sick to her stomach. Why do I feel guilty? There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t understand why she was finding this moment so difficult, so distant from what she expected to feel. Shouldn’t she be joyous, over the moon? To finally be free of that monster that controlled her entire life?

David’s attempt to physically restrain her back at the flat was the furthest thing triggering her uneven emotions in the car. No, she’d learned to deal with that by now. Above all else, above everything she should have been upset over… she was angry. At herself.

Thankfully, the drive back to John’s was long enough for her to get a majority of her emotions out. Crying as hard as she needed. As loud as she needed. John was the only one she would let see her in this state. It had to come out now.

When the erratic breathing and sobbing had worn her out, leaving a red and puffy face in its wake, she was able to regain her bearings somewhat. As much as she enjoyed hearing John ramble on for what seemed like hours, she was glad he chose to stay quiet this time. He knew her well enough to know when’s the time to shut the fuck up—when to give her her space.

Upon passing the familiar petrol station, she knew they were almost back. All she wanted to do was pass out. Sleep forever—at least long enough to erase any memory of the past couple of years.

“‘M sorry…” she murmured, staring out the window, her eyes still glassy.

John glanced at her, checking in, before scoffing lightly and shaking his head. “You’re the last person who needs to be apologising right now.”

“No, I mean…” she turned her head in his direction, but kept her eyes on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… earlier. And that you got caught up in–” her breath caught in her throat, “In all that.”

He chuckled airily under his breath, a somewhat amused smile on his lips. “And like I just said… You’re not the one who needs to apologise.” Stopping at a red light, he had the chance to look at her head-on. “Seriously. It’s okay. Everything’s gunna be okay, El.”

Upon looking up at his eyes, those warm, trusting eyes she’d found solace in for so many years, came the first wave of relief. A sudden realisation. Instead of David’s nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her of her shortcomings, she heard a different one. A distant whisper from a fragile conversation she’d only ever had with one person.

You’ve done the hardest part…

No idiot would do something so brave…

With a shaky sigh, she nodded, smiling almost painfully at John. “Yeah…” she whispered her agreement. “Everything’s gonna be okay…” she repeated, almost as a self-assuring mantra as she looked ahead. “The light’s green,” she nodded her head towards the traffic lights in front of them.

“Shit,” John pressed down on the gas pedal, a comically panicked look on his face that made Elena stifle a small laugh. A laugh. A real laugh…

It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna be okay.

The air was lighter by the time they pulled up to John’s driveway, and it seemed the sun wasn’t as menacing as it was before. Catching a glimpse of Pat in one of the windows put yet another smile on her face, as if another reminder that there is life outside of David. He’d damaged her mind. Tainted all of her thoughts. It wouldn’t go away overnight, but being with the Bonhams was a refreshing prompt along the road to understanding she was free.

And she never had to see David Henning ever again.

“‘Ere, let me get that,” John offered, pulling Elena’s bag from the back of the car and slugging it over his shoulder. “Fuck, what do you have in here, the kitchen sink?”

Snorting, Elena lifted the box into her arms, nudging the car door shut with her knee. “It’s the jeans and those jackets, Bon…”

“Oh, those fuckin’ jackets are massive!” he gasped, as if he had forgotten.

“Yeah, but they look good on,” she smirked, watching her steps as they made their way to the front door. John’s face dropped a little when he tried the handle, finding it locked.

“The fuck’s goin’ on ‘ere…” Turning around abruptly, he almost collided with Elena. “Back door.”

“Jesus, do you mind not body slamming me in the process?” she mumbled, spinning round in the direction of the gate that led to the Bonhams’ back garden.

As they closed in, the familiar laughter of Jason could be heard, along with some clumsy clapping.

“Do it again!” The sound of someone’s shoes coming into contact with a football followed. Jason cheered again, his adorable cadence putting a smile on Elena’s face.

The smile, however, seemed to widen when she heard familiar laughter—and it definitely wasn’t Pat.

Rounding the corner of the house, the heartwarming scene of Jason kicking his football towards a carefree Robert unfolded.

“Again!”

“Can only do a single trick so many times, Jason,” Robert chuckled, but humoured the three-year-old, performing a brief dribble with a concentrated face. Far from a trick, but enough to mesmerise Jason in his innocent joy.

“Well if it isn’t Bobby Thomson,” John called out, catching the pair off guard.

Robert’s eyes went instantly to Elena’s, and he flashed that charming smile her way, before swiftly giving John attention. “Nah, mate, Thomson’s a left backer. I’m more of a Derek Dougan,” he said, attempting an Irish accent in the process.

“Who tha fuck’s Derek Dougan?”

Jason gasped, his presence momentarily subdued. “Mummy!” He ran inside, all whilst shouting, “Daddy just said a bad word!” Elena stifled a laugh, watching over her shoulder as his small form disappeared.

The blonde froze, giving his band mate a dumbfounded expression. “I don’t trust you anymore, Bonzo.”

Elena, with an amused smirk, glanced up at John. “Dougan’s a midfielder,” she let him know. John just simply let out an exasperated groan, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s also Irish…” She looked at Robert. “Hence the terrible accent,” she teased lightly. Her eyes still felt heavy from the car journey, but jesting with Robert came as naturally as breathing.

“I didn’t know you were into football, Elena,” Robert tilted his head to the side, hand on his hip. The small gesture and placement caught Elena’s attention, just like he had done at rehearsal. Everything about the man screamed appeal, in every sense of the word.

“I’m not,” she simply responded with a shrug of her shoulders. There was a pause between the three of them and it didn’t take very long for the two men to understand why Elena happened to know so much about football. She may have not been the one in her home—ex home—watching football, but she sure got a lot of it from David.

“Uh, I’m gonna take this inside before it cuts off the circulation to my brain,” John quipped, patting Elena’s bag. “Ya want a cuppa, Rob?”

Great, Elena, you’ve made it awkward now… Fucking idiot. You can’t say anything without fucking it u–

“El?”

“Hm?” she snapped her head to John. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted a cuppa,” he repeated gently, a sympathetic gaze matching his tone. She gave him a passive nod, turning to follow him and Robert inside. Her fingers were starting to lock up from gripping onto the bottom of the cardboard box, so she instantly dropped it down on the kitchen table once they’d entered.

“What’s with the box?” Robert nodded towards it, casually nosing about in the kitchen with, yet again, his hands settled on his hips. The poor lad didn’t even realise how beautiful he looked as he inspected all the photos and magnets on the Bonhams’ fridge. Eyebrows all narrowed as he focused his eyes, a subconscious curling of his mouth that naturally stretched over his strong jaw.

Elena, pack it in. It’s Robert. Stop.

“Um,” she cleared her throat, resting a hand on top of the box. “It’s just got all these photos and random things in it that are important to me. Memories, I guess…” she trailed off.

“Oh, fantastic!�� Robert chimed, hair bouncing about as he turned to look at her. “Got any embarrassing photos of Bonzo in there?”

She chuckled, glancing at said man, who was busy preparing tea. “None that don’t also embarrass me.” She carefully lifted the lid halfway off the box and strategically fished out a small stack of processed photographs that were a little worn by now, tied together by an elastic band. Robert’s footsteps came closer, until his presence was right next to her, the warmth radiating from his body.

“What happened to the corners?”

Elena pulled her lips into a tight line, eyeing the damaged corners of the lid of the box, darker than the rest of it, and requiring the utmost of care. “Nothing, just an accident…” she shrugged it off.

He peered over her shoulder, feeling a small jump in his heart at being this close to her again. He had to suppress the idiotic grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her hair… Nothing appealed to him more in that moment than to run his fingers through it.

“Oh, this was when we went camping,” Elena smiled, holding up a photo labelled ‘Bon-Bon + El, Lake District, July 1964.’ “Bon had just finished school, so we decided to go up North for a couple of days.”

Robert tilted his head down to get a better look, snorting at the boyish expression on John’s face, equipped with the adolescent beginning stages of growing out a moustache. But the 15-year-old Elena made his smile soften. She looked happy there. Wrapped up in an earthy orange cardigan, stray blades of grass stuck to her legs from pitching a tent.

“Not that fuckin’ photo,” John whined, glancing over at them. “I look like a right knobhead!”

“Well, you always look like a knobhead, Bonzo,” Robert fired back with a smirk, looking back down at the photo. “It’s a lovely photo.”

“Eh…” she squirmed a little with a shrug. “It’s cute. John looks good in it, at least.” She carefully slipped it back in with the rest of the photos.

“You do, as well,” Robert gave her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

“Pfft, I look fat in it.”

John’s hand stopped mid-milk pour, eyes diverting to the side as he overheard Elena’s comment. Since when does she think she looks fat? Scrunching up his eyebrows, he finished making their teas. Even the comments from schoolboys didn’t influence her own perception of herself. Weird. But then, it hit him. Fuckin’ David…

“No, you look nice,” Robert refuted, shaking his head. A glance at her showed she didn’t believe him. “Seriously, yer cute.”

At the counter, John’s eyebrows raised, and a shocked smile appeared on his face. Well, shit, just jump right in, Percy…

Elena raised an eyebrow, looking up at Robert, who was still looking over her shoulder. Panic briefly flashed through his eyes and he chuckled airily, shifting back.

“It’s a cute photo, that is…” With a somewhat subdued smile, he went over to John to take his tea. Elena was left to mull over the minute interaction. Seriously, yer cute… No, it didn’t mean anything… Can’t have.

“‘Ere y’are,” John appeared next to her, offering her cup of tea. She gave him a smile in gratitude, immediately sipping at it, the fresh heat of it snapping her out of the overtime her brain had unwillingly subscribed to. “Anyway, why’re you here, Rob?”

“What, I can’t just come and see how you’re doing?” Robert squinted his eyes, shielding half of his expression with the mug of tea in his hand.

John stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions, totally unconvinced by his response. “You’ve just seen me every day for months, mate…” He watched as Robert came up with an unnecessarily detailed reason for his visit, claiming he wanted to see how Pat and Jason were doing, and how the house was… the fucking house. But when all was said and done, John wasn’t passive enough to miss the plain and obvious reason for Robert’s presence.

Elena.

But he’d let it slide. No need to embarrass lil Robert Anthony…

Besides, how could John ruin this moment? It wasn’t a foreign sight; Elena’s eyes often lit up in the presence of Robert, whether she realised it or not. He was a mere observer to a natural conversation about Robert’s hair. She commented on how it had grown out since she last saw him. How much it suited him. Shamelessly, yet subconsciously, lavishing him with small compliments as if they’d never parted.

Unlike his response to the hoards of girls who usually gave him such praise on the road, Robert seemed to reduce down to that teenage boy who saw Elena for the first time, as bright and radiant as any sunbeam dancing across the lilypad of an oasis. He’d take what he could get.

“Oh, there is a reason I’m here, actually,” Robert remembered, pointing his mug at John. “Uh, Jim and I are gunna head down to Snowdonia for a couple of weeks to work on some new material. Just thought, with us three being back together ‘n’ all, we could go out for a few drinks before I go?” He let the question hang in the air for a second, looking between the two of them in a patient standby.

John and Elena exchanged glances, as though telepathically asking each other’s opinion. Eventually, like clockwork, they both shrugged and nodded.

“Don’t see why not,” Elena softly accepted Robert’s offer, smiling up at him with a cadence akin to restrained excitement. “I mean… I don’t think I’ve actually been out for a nice drink in a… long time,” she huffed with a chuckle, attempting to conceal her melancholy recollection of the last time she’d had a good time with anyone at all.

Robert’s gaze softened as he picked up on her implication, sending her a sideways smile that ignited a warm buzz in her stomach.

“Well, this is your new beginning, El,” John started with his usual grin of reassurance. “What better way to kick it off with a drink with two of the finest men you’ve ever known?” He paused, glancing at Robert. “Well, one and a half.”

Robert sent him a jesting glare, but his mind, as prone to addiction as it was, stayed adhered to Elena, and the excitement it brung to accept his offer for a drink.

Even if it was dressed up as an innocent gathering of friends.

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mamadoc · 1 month

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20 questions for fic writers

Thank you to for tagging me, @thisnightissparkling089 !

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

I have only written 6 fics on AO3, but I tend to write long chapters and long stories.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

313,810

Pretty good for 7 months, right?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only The Rookie. 😎

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Catch of a Lifetime

Snowed In

*Sense* You Know Me So Well

*Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too - The Sequel

The Heimlich

5. Do you respond to comments?

Every comment thread! I love interacting with people who read my stories. I think it's one of the things that makes writing fanfiction so much fun.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have a few rules in my writing. 1 - Chenford is endgame. 2 - Only happy endings. 3 - No Major Character Death!

My reading and writing affect my mood, and I read to find a little spot of joy and sunshine.

That said, my sequel series, After the Snow Melts, has a lot more angst than my other stories. Although the ending is happy, it's not a perfect resolution of the story.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The last (third) chapter of *Sense* You Know Me So Well is so amazingly sweet and fluffy that it would rot your teeth.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, no. I've had a few rude requests for me to continue a story, but that's as close as I've gotten. I'm so grateful for the people that leave kind comments on my stories.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. I'll write 'spicy' scenes, but nothing I would consider smut or going into M or E categories.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No. I've considered it, and I've read a few that are great. But I never have.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

As far as I know, I have not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. But I have a few frequent commenters on Twitter/X that comment in other languages. I don't know if they read it in English or translate it, but they comment in Spanish, Portuguese, and German.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. When I first got some story ideas, I reached out to a few writers I admired to see if they would be interested in co-writing the stories with me. None of them were interested. That's when I had to break out my big girl panties and try it by myself. 😂😎 I'm glad I did. It's been such a rewarding hobby.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Chenford🥰

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have several ideas jotted down on my Notes app on my phone. I don't know how many of them will ever be fleshed out and see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm... I'm not sure. I feel like my writing is very descriptive and in character so that the reader can really feel like they're seeing it all play out. At least that's what I hear back from some readers. My stories are also longer, which allows the reader to disappear into that world for longer.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I still feel very new at this and lack some confidence in my writing skills. I've tried my hand at a few action scenes, but I'm not sure they come together as well as the relationship/dialogue scenes. I'm also an older Millennial, so some of the social media aspect of fanfiction and this fandom are new to me.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it once. I just used Google translate to get some easy Chinese for Lucy and her mother to have a quick conversation. But I speak French and Korean, so I could potentially add that in sometime in the future. I just don't know how well that would fit into a Chenford story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This one. I had never done creative writing in my adult life until 7 months ago, hence my lack of confidence.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I have really loved writing Catch of a Lifetime. I feel like it's different than a lot of the stories I've read on AO3, but it still has the characters we know and love.

*Sense* You Know Me So Well is my favorite of my shorter stories, particularly chapter 2. It feels very realistic and true to what could have happened in the snow.

And chapter 2 of *Sense* You Know Me So Well, Too - The Sequel is the one I feel like draws on the deepest feelings and most genuine heart of Chenford.

Thanks, ladies! Tagging @makeitastrength and @queseraone and @girlintotv and @chenfordspiral if they're interested in talking about their writing.

#chenford #fanfic #tim bradford x lucy chen #chenford fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer

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aeirithgainsborough · 1 month

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i'm curious, do you know why or have and theories on why they make cloti kiss but clerith only hug/hold hands? I was thinking that clerith is more pure and their love is slowly blossoming aka slowburn which I find cute and very fitting for them but the clerith shipper in me is angry bc I would have loved to see them kiss LOL what are your thoughts?

I’ll be real with you, I don’t think either ship should have had a kiss yet and im astonished CT did and how it happened, i think its spoiled all the build up having it there when they’ve been arguing a lot and that it would have been so much more poignant after the LS sequence but now the moment is gone on a poorly framed kiss they’re never going to talk about again bcus it has no relevance to the plot. Thats why they have them agree not to talk about it. I think it’s a shame for people who have waited for 27yrs for that moment. And then after it no matter what they all have to play as Cloud has many non optional romantic moments with Aerith in ch 13 + 14. Reviews have mentioned how off and disjoined it is. I think that’s why they made sure to emphasise before the game came out that the dates were meant to be fun but don’t impact the story. But id be pissed if id waited that long for a kiss and that’s how i got it. and especially that in one route cloud looks like a dick but in another he doesn’t; that should really tell them something about the story. Why they gave them one idk, but I kinda wonder if it was getting them on the hook for p3 cus the last 2 chapters made CT fans real mad (even if they’re pretending otherwise on main, ppl have seen their discord and they’re not happy).

I think CA don’t kiss for a few reasons:

Cloud has remembered Zack, albeit incorrectly, much earlier. Through the game he has instances of jealousy towards him and that becomes more uncomfortable and confusing once he’s remembered they were friends. This has just happed before the dates and why when they get on skywheel he’s a bit awkward and won’t sit beside her! Of course that doesn’t last long; it was either nojima or nomura but one of them said in remake that cloud tries to keep distance between him and Aerith but he can’t do it 🥰🥰 but Zack definitely makes him more reluctant and unsure. Even when he reaches to take her hand it’s slow and cautious bcus he doesn’t know if it’s okay. And of course it is!

Aerith is fully aware Cloud is not himself. On his GS date she tells him she’s trying so hard to find him but in case you missed that as you did a different date, she also says it again in the sleeping forest; that cloud should focus on the real him she’s been looking for and leave Sephiroth to her. She knows there’s something up and kissing him knowing that is not something I think Aerith would do.

CA are the love that could never be ship. In the trailer for the 97 game, that was what they were described as. Part of the tragedy of clerith is that they have these budding feelings but before they have a chance to go anywhere Aerith is murdered. In the original cloud realises the depth of his feelings too late: at the end he says ‘I think I understand now’ and then expresses his desire to meet Aerith in the promised land. And all crossover material he’s in emphasises that he’s always looking for her. They are a star crossed lovers ship. And cloud is also dense and emotionally a mess; yes he likes her clearly, he shows jealousy for Zack, he goes on dates with her, he holds her hand and looks so happy to do so, but he can’t put all those feelings he has and come up with the right answer. In the church she confesses and he doesn’t quite get it and she, linking to her resolution imo (don’t fall in love with me) drops it and apologises and hugs him instead. This is all in line with the OG, that he’ll be hit with the full force of his feelings and what she meant in p3. Remember he’s just said he wants to go on more dates to create more ‘our spots’ with her. She looks happy and then sad when he says this because yay he likes her he wants to do this again, but of course she knows what he doesn’t: that they are about to run out of time.

So that is why I think they don’t kiss. I think it makes sense they didn’t! But I do think they’ll kiss in p3 for sure.

#ask #anonymous #rebirth spoilers

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 3 months

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Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 14

Chapters: 14/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Being deceived your entire life was not something you were prepared for. Fortunately, once again, Morpheus was there to provide support.

Note: This chapter is quite long. I was considering to split it and just add the second part to the next one, but I didn't want to make it longer than intended. In chapter 16, the Vortex part will officially begin.

Morpheus was ready to go to any lengths for you. The way you never took advantage of his power and treated his gifts with the utmost care was everything he could ever hope for. You were a genuine treasure, illuminating and uplifting the spirits of everyone, including Morpheus himself, without needing any refinement.

The pendant adorning your neck served as a powerful symbol, bestowed upon you to safeguard you from harm and infuse you with a piece of his essence. It was common knowledge that the Endless had the ability to prolong a mortal's life just by being near them, but when it came to you, Morpheus was resolute in ensuring that you wouldn't slip away from his hold sooner than he wished.

However, there was still an important piece of information from your past that remained hidden, a vital detail that Morpheus was forbidden to reveal. Despite being bound by a verbal agreement with Paregoros that prevented him from speaking about it, as the Ruler of the Dreaming, he possessed a talent for uncovering and taking advantage of loopholes to serve his own interests. Leveraging his abilities, he employed his gift of inspiration to ignite the creative brilliance of artists and writers, leaving an enduring imprint on history. Their invaluable contributions continued to be revered and celebrated across generations in textbooks and literary masterpieces. The dreams and nightmares he meticulously crafted had the power to shape the trajectory of mortals, guiding them towards a myriad of choices they would make in the Waking World.

He persuaded Richard Madoc to set Calliope free. He convinced Maya Davies to openly address her actions at the office, dealing with the burden of guilt and self-disappointment that would haunt her for an extended period of time.

There was no feat beyond his grasp within his domain. The purpose of the Dreaming itself was to fulfill such a role, granting him the ability to accomplish anything.

And so, he made the decision to inspire yet another human - someone he had never personally met, but who held immense significance and closeness to his beloved.

According to your account, your father was going through an emotional breakdown that tormented him with sleepless nights and anxious days. There wasn't a specific nightmare haunting the man, but his dream record offered Morpheus valuable insights into the root cause of his troubles.

Thus, Morpheus ventured into the vast expanse of dreams within his realm, searching for the particular one he sought. He wandered along an endless path that twisted and turned, encountering a series of ever-shifting scenes that emerged from the mortal realm. Passing through a gate adorned with roses, he effortlessly opened it with a simple wave of his hand. Stepping inside, he walked along a secluded beach, seemingly abandoned except for three figures near the edge of the sea. Among them, only one person was truly asleep, while the other two were mere projections of the human's subconscious mind.

The soothing sound of the waves enveloped the atmosphere, while the sun radiated its warmth from above. Your father, in his younger years, relaxed on a beach towel, a serene smile adorning his lips. He watched with attentiveness as a little girl constructed a sandcastle before him, showering her with praise for her imaginative creation and encouraging her to make it even more magnificent. Beside him, Paregoros rested her head on his shoulder, expressing her love for their daughter and her longing to perpetually preserve that cherished moment of togetherness.

Morpheus stood nearby, observing and hearing everything, yet maintaining a respectful distance. He watched as you lifted your head, your captivating eyes moving from the sandcastle to meet his gaze. A smile formed on your face, acknowledging his presence before redirecting your focus back to the construction in front of you., acknowledging his presence before redirecting your focus back to the construction in front of you.

As a replica of your childhood self, you existed solely within his realm and nowhere else. This version of you was nothing more than an abstract entity recognizing its master, yet even as a dream, you radiated a gentle warmth that had the ability to melt his heart.

He continued to observe the family for a little while longer, sensing a tinge of intrusion into a private moment not intended for his eyes. Morpheus contemplated turning away and departing, but to his astonishment, your father spoke in a way that seemed to be directed at him.

"Isn't it beautiful? This is how I’ve always envisioned things, for all of us.”

Morpheus walked closer, daring to stop just a few inches away.

"But this isn't real, is it? It's merely a construct of my mind. Just a dream.”

Morpheus' attention shifted back and forth, alternating between your father, Paregoros, and the little Y/N.

"Yes, you are sleeping,” the Endless replied, his voice echoing in the salty air. "But that does not diminish the significance of what you are dreaming about.”

The man chuckled softly, bringing his hands together around his knees. “’Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?’”

Morpheus reacted with a pout, furrowing his eyebrows, while the man responded with a wide smile. "It's a quote from Harry Potter. Have you ever read that one?”

“I have not.”

"Please excuse my digression, then.”

Paregoros and Y/N carried on as if nothing was happening. Your father cast a sidelong glance at his partner, his expression growing darker and more solemn.

"This is not my first time here," he realized. "But I must confess, I do not recall ever seeing you. Have we crossed paths before?”

“No.”

“I see. For some reason, you seem familiar to me.”

He pondered over it, attempting to dispel the haze of the dream from his mind. Eventually, he shook his head and snickered to himself again, finding amusement in his own thoughts.

"Ah, never mind," he said dismissively. "I think you remind me of a character from another book, The Sandman. But that's just foolish, isn't it?”

Morpheus remained silent, but this time, a barely concealed grin formed on his lips.

Even in his dreamlike state, the mortal was perceptive enough to notice it. “What?”

"You are quite like her," Morpheus noted.

Your father blinked in confusion. "Her?" he questioned, seeking clarification.

The King of Dreams tilted his head slightly, his eyes fixed upon the little girl once more. The man followed his line of sight and, with a quick glimpse at you, he understood. "You know my daughter?”

Morpheus nodded in confirmation.

"But… how...?"

"No matter. The truth that you are keeping from her seems to be tormenting you.”

Upon hearing this, the waves receded partially, and a deafening silence descended, causing your father's shoulders to slump in defeat. “You know that as well?”

"You attempted to shield her from something that was just too much for the both of you. Your love for your daughter is immeasurable, but it is time for you to let go of this burden," Morpheus advised.

"How am I supposed to do that? I’ve been lying about it her entire life.”

"Your daughter is prepared, and she will not hold any resentment against you for it."

As the conversation continued, Paregoros kept her attention on the little girl, who was diligently shoveling and shaping the sand with a perpetual smile on her face.

"I don't want to lose her," he confessed. "She's everything I have.”

"Your fear is a perception, an obstacle that must be overcome.”

"Easy for you to say," the man responded. "She went through hell because of what I did, because of our deception. How could anyone forgive such a thing?”

"Y/N has achieved remarkable accomplishments. She is more than capable of accepting things that surpass mortal understanding.”

"You speak as if you know her better than I do.”

"I do possess precise knowledge of all of you, far better than you have of yourselves,” Morpheus asserted.

Your father raised an eyebrow and asked, "All of us? Who exactly are you?”

“Mortals like you have limited recollection of your dreams while awake.”

"Do you think I will forget you?"

"You may."

"Are you even real?"

"I am."

He narrowed his eyes, cautiously studying the Endless with great scrutiny. "You are him, aren't you? You are the King of Dreams."

“You do not appear surprised.”

He shrugged. "All stories originate from reality.”

Morpheus was convinced that your qualities were a legacy from your mother, with her inherently compassionate and benevolent nature. Yet, as he observed your father now, so composed and open-minded, he concluded that a portion of your value also stemmed from his good heart and understanding.

As Morpheus delved into the mortal's mind, he could see the tremendous effort he had been putting forth for your well-being.

"If you are unwilling to heed my words, at the very least, place your trust in your daughter," he urged.

Your father's eyes cast down, and in a sudden twist, his entire appearance reverted back to his present self. Both Paregoros and Y/N dissolved into grains of sand, scattering away with the wind, their presence fading like a distant song.

"She won't hate me, will she?”

"Hate? Y/N has nothing but love in her heart," Morpheus affirmed.

"While she does indeed hold love, she also carries a lot of pain."

"Your deceit is likely to nourish that pain. For her, and for you," Morpheus cautioned.

The man curled up, wrapping his arms around his legs, fully embracing them. The temperature began to plummet, causing even the skin of his dream to tingle with cold. "I'm terrified, Lord of Dreams.”

"Your fear is lacking significance. The heaviness of your secret is causing you harm, is this truly what you wish?"

Your father shook his head vigorously. "Absolutely not," he declared with conviction. "But I want her to be happy. And I fear that this will shatter her and rob her of that happiness.”

As much as Morpheus desired to offer words of comfort that could refute those concerns, he found himself unable to do so. Still, if there was one thing he was certain of, it was your strength.

"Your fear cannot be compared with the consequences you could face."

The man let out a deep sigh, tracing circles in the sand with his finger. "The human mind is quite a tangled mess, isn't it?" he mused.

"You always create more problems for yourself.”

Your father let out a lighthearted laugh, "That is so true.”

He directed his gaze, settling it on the horizon where the ocean formed a distant blue line, distinctly separating from the sky.

"I will give it some thought," he finally concluded. "Thank you for your guidance, your Majesty.”

Morpheus offered a final nod, maintaining his position as he closely observed the mortal's reactions. Just like you, the man seemed completely aware, effortlessly assimilating into the environment and actively engaging with it. He was also unique, a rare individual that Morpheus seldom came across in his realm, amidst the multitude of people dreaming all at once.

"Fair you well," he said, waving a hand in front of his face. "This dream is over.”

As office activities resumed the following week, it came to your attention that Maya had chosen to resign from her position within the company. In order for Oliver to drop the report, she agreed to make a financial contribution to compensate for the damages she had caused. In a remarkable turn of events, Maya went as far as visiting the office to extend a heartfelt and formal apology to the entire team, including you.

Maya appeared like a mere shadow of her former self, with a noticeable paleness and thinness. The makeup around her eyes was minimal, and her lips lacked any hint of lipstick. Despite her evident exhaustion, there was a newfound sparkle in her eyes that you had never seen before.

The collective shock persisted for days as everyone tirelessly worked to rebuild what had been lost. Gradually, the burnt garments were meticulously remade with precision, and the studio started to regain its pristine condition. The broken computers were replaced, while the damaged ones were repaired and restored to working order. A new electrical panel was installed and fully functional, and the walls were repainted back to their original ivory white color.

As the weeks went by, all of you became increasingly prepared for the upcoming Fashion Show. Everything had returned to normal, and your life was steadily improving, with each day bringing even greater prosperity and abundance.

However, just as you were settling into your routine, the universe decided to throw a new obstacle onto your path.

One day, after avoiding your questions for quite some time, your father finally invited you to visit him and discuss something of extreme importance. He didn't provide any details over the phone, but he promptly reassured you that it had nothing to do with his health.

Although the news brought some relief, it was impossible to ignore the tremor in his voice. Ever since you mentioned your Greek heritage, he had been behaving strangely, indicating that his melancholy had a deeper root than mere nostalgia. Whenever you were with him, he appeared solemn, lost in thought, and emotionally distant.

Morpheus had explicitly stated that his dream record remained relatively undisturbed, without any nightmares that could account for his distress. It was high time for you to uncover the truth, and you were determined not to leave your father's house without a proper explanation.

Undoubtedly, what you were about to uncover surpassed your expectations by a significant margin.

Throughout the entire lunch, the man strived to keep the conversation flowing smoothly. Yet, his strained smile betrayed his attempt to suppress his anxiety. You watched him, giving him the space to talk about his days and the new books he had bought, without putting any pressure on him.

While you quietly cleaned the dishes, he kept immersing himself in his storytelling, explaining every detail of the books as a diversion for himself, leaving the tea you brewed largely untouched before him.

Despite the urgency you sensed in his voice when he first called, as the day wore on, he still couldn't muster the courage to voice what was really troubling him. Thus, recognizing his struggle to initiate the intended conversasion, you decided to take the lead and bring up the subject yourself.

"Dad, you know that I enjoy our time together, but I need to ask you right now. What's happening with you?”

The instant you inquired, his feigned smile disappeared from his face. He closed his eyes, pausing to reflect, then released a shaky, prolonged sigh before he left the table and moved to the couch in complete silence.

You followed him, settling beside him and clasping his wrist. "No more lies. I’m here for you.”

His fingers clenched around yours, placing his other hand on top. "I know. You always are," he murmured. "And that's what makes it so difficult.”

“You’re worrying me...”

“Y/N, the truth is, I owe you an apology.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "For what?”

"There's something I've been keeping from you. Something significant.”

Your heart rate increased, "What are you referring to?”

"I.... I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You have no idea.”

Suddenly, he began to weep, releasing all the accumulated stress and regret. His body trembled uncontrollably, his sobs intermittently broken by loud hiccups. He doubled over, fervently caressing your hands in his desperation.

“Dad! What's gotten into you? Please, talk to me.”

He longed to respond, but his voice was drowned in the echoes of his heartfelt cries. All you could do was provide some solace, tenderly stroking his back and laying your cheek against his shoulder.

He took a few shallow breaths, attempting to regain his composure. His hands kept wiping his face, trying to erase the relentless tears.

At last, when he was able to speak again, he let the secret out unrestrained. “She’s alive. She’s always been. It was all a lie.”

If anything, his outburst only served to add to your confusion. “Who’s alive? I don’t understand.”

"I had no choice,” he continued. “She asked me to, for your sake. And I thought it was the right thing to do.”

By that time, your patience was wearing thin. "Dad, you're not making any sense. Who is she?”

His hiccups interrupted him again, causing his voice to shatter as he responded. "Y...o.u...r...... mo....th...er.”

It felt as if you had been doused with a cold shower. "My... mother...? What?”

He nodded frantically. "Y...yes," he trembled. "She's....alive.”

Your heart seemed to stop, only to restart at an even faster pace as you pieced the puzzle together. Since childhood, you were told the heartbreaking story of your mother passing away during your birth. You were robbed of the chance to see her, to hear her voice, or to experience her nurturing love.

A piece of you always felt absent, and there were moments when you wanted nothing more than to have her presence by your side.

She couldn't possibly be alive. No, surely you were misinterpreting his words.

"Dad, this is absurd.”

"I couldn't, Y/N,” he lamented. “I... we.... it was just too much.”

You ran your fingers along your forehead, struggling to process his declaration. “If what you say is true, then where is she? And why?”

It couldn't possibly be real. Not a single bit.

Or could it…?

"She's not like us, lovey. She is... so much more than you could ever imagine.”

Then, like a bolt of lightning, a thought struck your mind. It was a piece of information you had heard before, which had completely slipped away. Even amidst the enigmatic circumstances, it was something you struggled to fully grasp.

“You don’t even know me. Why do you care so much about my relationship with Dream?”

The Fate in the center parted her lips into a broad smile. “Oh, we do know you, love. For you are the daughter of your mother.”

You felt the blood inside your veins turn icy cold. “My…mother…? What-”

“She does not know yet, sister-self.”

How could you have overlooked it, when what the Fates disclosed to you that day was enough to stir questions within you? You dismissed it as another of their baffling riddles, not considering to delve deeper.

And there was more.

“It would seem that your lineage is directly associated with Paregoros.”

“Excuse my ignorance, but… who would that be?”

“She is the personified spirit of consolation, comfort and soothing words. A companion of Aphrodite, Goddess of love, and Peitho, the Goddess of persuasion.”

“And I am related to her? What does that make me?”

“You are mortal. But you seem to possess certain qualities of her, which perhaps will spare you the cruel fate that is otherwise customary for any human I dare to come close to.”

Your blood surged through your veins as the realization started to sink in, unveiling what might be the most astounding truth you could ever anticipate hearing. You tried to sweep it away, given the high likelihood that you were jumping to erroneous conclusions.

And yet…

" She is... so much more than you could ever imagine.”

When your father noticed your growing panic, his crying escalated. "I never wanted to keep it from you, I swear! I told her it was a bad idea, that you had the right to know who she truly was. But... she couldn't. She... she wasn't allowed to.”

She wasn’t allowed to…

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! It was the only way.”

Slowly, you withdrew your hands from his shaking form, rising to your feet and taking a few wobbly steps towards the window. You made an effort to maintain your composure, folding your arms as a ripple of chills shot up your spine, branching out to your arms and the nape of your neck.

"The photo you took with her," you managed to say, pushing down your nervousness. "You said she was reserved and didn't like having her picture taken, but she agreed to give you at least one photograph.”

“Y-yes…”

"And conveniently, her face in the only photo you have is obscured by a lens flare.”

“I know…”

You had always been curious about your mother's appearance, unable to discern her features clearly in the photo due to the overpowering brightness.

"It wasn't an accident, was it?” You concluded.

“I… I don’t know,” he sniffled. “I suppose so.”

"You said she's not like us. Is she even human?”

You had grown up with the conviction that your mother had tragically sacrificed her life to bring you into this world. During your childhood, the guilt, derived from the belief that you were the cause of her untimely death, nearly drove you into the abyss of despair. Schoolmates cruelly taunted and branded you as a bane, someone who should have never been born.

The notion that she was actually still alive, hiding and perpetuating a false narrative without ever reaching out to you, seemed like an unfathomable concept that you found incredibly difficult to accept.

Just as your father seemed to be calming down, another sob overtook him. "No, lovey...”

As the dialogue progressed, the range of possibilities began to constrict.

"I need to know her name,” you asserted. “Her real name.”

Your father sprang up from the couch, swallowing hard and unfastening the collar of his shirt. His voice was rough and weary. “Paregoros,” he conceded. “Her name is Paregoros.”

Paregoros…

Your mother was a Goddess, the spirit of consolation, about whom you had never read in any book or website. She was unknown, invisible, a phantom who left nothing behind except for her own family. You were the daughter of a deity who deemed it acceptable to simply leave you to your fate for being a mere mortal.

Did Morpheus hold this knowledge when she was brought up in your conversation? Had he uncovered her true identity, only to deliberately keep it hidden from you?

Your father approached your immobile figure, his apologies intensifying as he called out your name.

"Sorry, I need some air," you stated, spinning on your heels and striding past him without so much as glancing at his face.

Your father remained stationary in the center of the living room, tears cascading one after another as you sprinted away. The resounding slam of the door startled him, leaving him with no other option but to resort to prayer. He prayed for your return, and above all, for your forgiveness.

You didn't know how long you walked for, nor did you have any idea of your destination. You advanced like a robot on autopilot, your feet carrying you forward, your gaze distant and unfocused. You crossed numerous streets, turned various corners, and strode past multiple shops, glancing at their display windows without truly seeing what they sold.

Your mind was still grappling with the revelation you had just unearthed, uncertain of how to cope with it all. As you wandered aimlessly through the park, you found yourself pacing back and forth on a secluded, tree-lined path, vigilantly ensuring that nobody else was around. As your anger welled up within your chest, you buried your face in your hands, unleashing a scream so forceful that it nearly stole your breath away.

You were panting, running your fingers through your hair and squeezing your burning eyes shut. There were so many questions, doubts, and bewildering theories swirling in your mind, all of which you couldn't untangle on your own.

For the next hour, you attempted to ease your nerves by sitting on a bench, but unfortunately, it did very little to pacify the inner tempest that raged inside you. You watched as several passersby went about their activities—some jogging, others enjoying a serene walk with their family, their dog, or their romantic partner.

The more you sought an escape, the deeper your mind delved into it.

You waited until the sun began to dip below the horizon and solitude enveloped you completely. Struggling with coherent thought, you rose from your seat, tightly gripping the Moonstone and focusing all your energy on summoning the King of Dreams. "Morpheus," you said with a tone of anger. "Morpheus, can you hear me? I need to speak with you. Right now.”

You tuned into the soft rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds from the trees above. In the stillness, when no other motion was detectable, you felt as though he was beyond your reach, resolving that your only choice was to wait until nightfall. However, there emerged a figure right behind you, whose presence was unmistakably familiar.

"Y/N.”

You gathered yourself, your fists clenched, gradually turning and lifting your gaze to meet his. Morpheus was wearing the usual modern coat he always opted for in the Waking World, and his expression was a mixture of perplexity and concern.

He frowned, noticing the redness around your eyes. "My love, what-”

“Did you know?” You interrupted him, your tone questioning and accusatory.

“Know what?”

Your lips pressed together, holding back the emerging tremble. "I'm not simply associated with Paregoros, am I? I'm her damn daughter. Did you accidentally forget to mention it, or were you genuinely unaware?”

You hoped you were mistaken, that he, in spite of his position and wisdom, was simply oblivious to the true connection you shared with the Goddess in question.

The way his jaw strained and he cast his eyes downwards instantly shattered that hope.

"Why did you lie to me?”

“I did no such thing.”

"Really? Then what exactly did you do?”

Morpheus appeared calm, but you could tell that your sharp tone was getting under his skin. He peered intensely into your eyes, his feelings and intentions apparent as he spoke. "In the beginning, I truly believed she was merely a part of your lineage. It took a thorough inspection from Lucienne to correct our misunderstanding.”

"You still kept it to yourself, though.”

Morpheus wavered, taking a moment before providing a suitable reply. “It was necessary.”

"Did you think I couldn't handle the truth?”

"No. It was your mother who asked me to keep it a secret from you.”

You looked at him in disbelief, your mouth dropping open. "Wait, you spoke to her?”

"She requested a meeting.”

You released a laugh filled with revulsion, raising your gaze to the sky. "So she contacted you. Just like that.”

“Yes.”

Your mother couldn't make an effort to speak to you even once, never trying to approach her own child. And yet, she went out of her way to message the Lord of Dreams, solely to enforce her ban on revealing her identity to you.

Was she observing you covertly, watching your life like a detached spectator munching on popcorn?

"And you accepted her terms?”

“I assured her that you would never learn the truth from me.”

You scoffed. "Whose side are you on, exactly?”

"Y/N, can you not see it?” He inquired, his eyes mellowing.

“What am I supposed to see here?” Your voice escalated further, sounding desperate and reverberating in the space around you.

Morpheus didn't falter, stepping closer and encroaching on your personal space. "I said you would not hear it from me, and yet, you have learnt the truth. From whom?”

“How does that make any diff-”

Right then and there, it struck you.

Your father had dodged your pressing questions for weeks, never appearing inclined to divulge something that was noticeably gnawing at his soul. Then, unexpectedly, he was prepared to reveal the secret he had guarded for a lifetime? Out of nowhere, first thing in the morning?

The unwavering and confident expression on Morpheus' face, along with the slight smile he offered, provided you with a silent confirmation.

You laughed again, but this time, it was imbued with joy and relief. Because at that juncture, you realized that the King of Dreams had leveraged his sway and might to influence yet another mortal for you.

How could you have doubted him after all the trials you had weathered together?

"That’s cheating. You know that?”

“Perhaps. but in the end, I kept my oath.”

Upon reflection, and as your agitation began to subside, it seemed like the most judicious decision he could have possibly made. After all, he wasn't the one who should have borne the responsibility of disclosing such truth to you.

You smiled, lifting your hands to the sides of his neck and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. "And I even yelled at you. I'm such a fool.”

"My love, you are suffering from a state of emotional distress.”

"It doesn’t matter, it was wrong of me.”

Your fingers slid down to the front of his coat, and you found comfort resting your forehead against his chest.

"I just… I don't understand. Is it so wrong for Gods to fall in love and create a family?”

His hands gently settled around your shoulders. "There are rules that we must obey for the preservation of our domains.”

"You're saying there's a rule that forbids deities from associating with their loved ones?”

"Circumstances alter significantly when humans are involved.”

Even the Endless weren't allowed to partake in romantic relationships with them. You were the exception, allowed to remain by his side without the severest penalty befalling you for violating the universe's laws. Was your kind so trivial, worthless and lacking that it constantly had to be belittled and cast aside?

Not that you found this particularly shocking, but still.

"I don’t see how terrible it would have been for me to know.”

"It is not a suitable reality for a mortal child.”

Would accepting a mother, who was bound by her duties as a Goddess, be more detrimental than you believing she no longer existed?

"I needed her, Morpheus. I needed my mother.”

Once more, you lifted your head, searching for his eyes. "I've uncovered so many amazing things in the recent months that I believed only existed in my dreams. Things I was not supposed to see, nor to experience the way I did.”

A gust of wind swept through his hair as he regarded you with a penetrating look.

"I’m not a child anymore. I had to handle everything on my own for so long, working for my father’s well-being and haunted by the fear of it being useless and insufficient.”

Morpheus listened, barely even blinking.

"I was terrified. And I found myself thinking, so many times, that if my mum was still with me, with us… maybe things might have been different.”

Morpheus slightly opened his mouth, directing a quick glance towards his pocket.

“Is it possible for me to meet her? To talk to her?”

"My love, such matters require the highest level of caution.”

"Do you believe I'm being hasty?”

"Allow a few moments of reflection to absorb the knowledge you have obtained.”

You let out a deep sigh. "You mean coming to terms with the fact that my entire life has been a lie from the day I was born? That might take a while.”

"Your existence carries a greater level of significance, despite your inability to see its importance at this time.”

"How could it hold any significance when I've been pushed to the sidelines?”

He leaned in closer, looking down at you and firming his hold on your upper arms. He was fervent yet composed, quieting all surrounding sounds again so that the only thing you could hear was the soothing timbre of his voice, coupled with his earnest and heartfelt proclamation.

"It is a blessing.”

You let it seep in, permeating your heart and spreading its warmth throughout your body. Almost instinctively, one hand moved to your chest while the other reached for his face, fingertips lightly brushing against his chin, the contour of his jaw, and his cheek.

"You always know just what to say that makes me love you even more.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, only to promptly revert to his solemn demeanor and slide his hand into the right pocket of his coat. As you followed his movements, you saw him retrieve the familiar leather pouch of sand, observing it in quiet contemplation.

"I could show you," he proposed.

“Show me what?”

"My realm might hold the answers you are seeking.”

Grains of sand gently floated in the air, escaping from the pouch and performing a dance above your head. They sparkled, twinkling like miniature stars.

"Now?”

“If that is what you wish.”

Somehow, the little bag in his hand was radiating an unusually powerful attraction, enveloping you in a bubble of tranquility. Your understanding of his realm was still rather limited, and your grasp on your mother's origins was even more sparse. If direct confrontation with her to voice your queries wasn't a possibility, then you were left without a better alternative.

You offered a smile, moving closer to whisper into his ear, “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.”

Morpheus appeared amused, regardless of whether he was familiar with the song you quoted or not. You created a small gap between you to allow him access to the contents of his pouch, from which he extracted a handful of golden, magical sand.

And thus, he inclined towards you, placing his hand before his lips. As he gently blew into his palm, the sand drifted delicately over your face, causing your eyelids to become instantly heavy. As your eyes closed, you felt progressively lighter, while your surroundings started to morph into an entirely different setting.

It was akin to being transported into another universe, journeying through the cosmos.

Meanwhile, your body was succumbing to numbness in the Waking World, but as he enveloped you in his arms, you didn't come close to falling.

Morpheus would never allow you to fall.

It was unlike anything you had seen during your past transitions to sleep. It felt as though your consciousness was levitating in space, gliding forward as a bewitching galaxy materialized before you. You were navigating an unseen path, walking through vibrant nebulae and stars.

In the distance, two figures materialized, standing face to face as you neared. Echoes of voices reverberated through the cosmic spectacle as everything became increasingly vibrant and clear with each step you took.

Once the scenery settled, you recognized the Greenwich plaza in front of the church, completely deserted except for two individuals standing beneath the main architectural arch. Their faces were difficult to make out, but the male voice was certainly one you had been familiar with since birth. It didn't take much time for you to notice that the man was your father in his younger years, while the identity of the woman standing before him was left to your speculation.

With your heart pounding rapidly, you cautiously edged forward, striving to discern their conversation. The woman appeared to be cradling a sizeable bundle of white cloths, gently swaying it to and fro.

"How can you ask me something like that?" Your father bemoaned. "She's your daughter. You simply can't abandon her with me and go.”

"I'm not forsaking her," the woman declared, her voice resonated like a melody, albeit laden with sorrow and guilt.

Upon reaching the porch, you finally managed to gain a comprehensive view of the enigmatic woman. She resembled the one from your father's photograph, except that her features were now clear and discernible.

She had an uncanny resemblance to how your elder sister would look, if you had one.

“Mum…?”

"No, that's precisely what you're doing," your father persisted. "You visit me after 9 months, a period during which I couldn't even support you through your pregnancy and childbirth, only to tell me that I must care for her as you take leave?”

Your heart plummeted.

"You don't understand," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Then make me understand.”

Paregoros let out a shaky sigh, her eyes fixed on the newborn nestled in her arms. "You know who I am," she whispered. "My journey to the Mortal realm was only meant for duty's call. Our chance meeting, the unexpected love that blossomed, and now, this baby... none of these were in my original script.”

The quietness was shattered by your father's scoff. "Is that all I am to you? Just a character from a story that was originally written with a different ending?”

“Is that all I am to you? A mistake?”

Somehow, that dialogue stirred memories of the time Morpheus had unveiled the truth about Nada, describing his relationship with her as a colossal blunder that defied the established norms.

"Absolutely not. Our relationship, and our daughter, are treasures I wouldn't exchange for anything else in the whole universe.”

He exhaled deeply. "Then, why?”

"Because she can't stay with me. And I... I won’t be able to be at your side.”

Her voice quivered as she tenderly brushed her cheek against the baby's forehead, a gesture so poignant that it made your chest constrict and ache profoundly.

"What is this?" You questioned. "Is this an actual memory?”

"A memory within a dream," Morpheus responded, appearing next to you.

“My father’s?”

“Yes.”

The man tightened his fist against his mouth, holding back a surge of tears.

"What should I even do?" He implored his lover. "How can I manage this alone? She needs her mother too.”

The Goddess sniffled softly. "You will do just fine.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes I can. Because I know you.”

Your father stepped closer, casting a glance at the baby who seemed to be peacefully sleeping.

“She looks just like you,” he said, a smile of affection gracing his lips.

"You should hear the volume of her cries. She's as headstrong as you are.”

“Hey!”

Without realizing it, you reached out to clutch Morpheus' sleeve for support, engulfed by a tumultuous wave of sorrow and serenity as you observed your family together.

"One last thing," your mother murmured. "It's crucial that she remains unaware of the truth about me and my origins.”

"What? Are you asking me to lie to her?”

"She needs to lead a fulfilling life, without the constant speculation of whether or when I'll return to see her. I don't want her embarking on a futile quest for me, squandering precious time and energy."

Your father shook his head in disbelief. "What am I supposed to tell her?”

Tears welled up in Paregoros's eyes and swiftly rolled down her cheeks. "She must believe that I won't be coming back. To her... I need to be perceived as dead.”

Your father gasped in shock. "No... that's completely unacceptable.”

“My love, please…”

“I can't possibly tell her that. That's..... no. Just a big fat no.”

"It's not as if I'll never be keeping an eye on her. Or you,” she clarified.

"But she won't ever see you. Neither will I.”

“I know.”

“How is that even fair?”

“It is not.”

“Then don’t let me do this.”

The sight of your father pleading with her to stay, or at the very least, to permit the two of you to see her again, was so heart-wrenching that it brought tears to your own eyes. The mere thought of losing Morpheus was enough to rip you asunder. Seeing how your father had to progress without the love of his life, having no control over the entire ordeal, was so overwhelmingly heartbreaking.

It astounded you how well he managed to hold himself together, all on his own.

"I can't. Please understand... I need to be assured that she will be safe. That she'll find happiness. If I choose to linger, I'll not only be defying the laws of my domain, but I'll be sentencing both of you to a life fraught with endless pain.”

"And do you believe that I won't be in agony either way?”

She exhaled deeply. "I'm giving you the opportunity to move on.”

In that moment, you understood. Paregoros was tethered to an eternal existence, while your father's life was destined to be much shorter, aging with each passing day as she remained unchangingly pristine. She wished to liberate the two of you from that heavy burden, enabling you to live your lives in the human world as fully and joyfully as possible.

In a sense, your situation with Morpheus was not too dissimilar. He had already existed for millions of years, and there was no foreseeable end to his longevity. You, on the other hand, were as mortal as your father, and that only reinforced the stark realization of being merely a transient presence.

Morpheus was observing the dream intently, maintaining silence and allowing you to stay close.

“If you think I'll just forget about you and develop feelings for another, my dear, you are sorely mistaken,” your father retorted.

Paregoros let out a chuckle as she dabbed at her face to clear the tears away. "I knew you'd say something like that.”

You smiled, your watery eyes shifting back and forth between them.

Are you absolutely certain there's no other solution?" He asked. “She has a right to know who her mother truly is.”

"I'm afraid there isn't.”

Slowly, and with an evident reluctance, she handed over the baby to him. He wrapped his arms around the tiny bundle, cradling the child with such delicacy that for a moment you feared he would drop her.

"Does she have a name?"

Paregoros shook her head. "You should have the honor of deciding, considering what I’m forcing you to do.”

Witnessing your parents holding you, so intimately close to each other, was utterly surreal.

"I believe I have the perfect one in mind," he said proudly.

"What do you wish to name her?”

His smile broadened. "Y/N. I'm quite fond of Y/N.”

Y/N...." she echoed, letting the name dance on her tongue. "Yes, it fits her perfectly.”

Paregoros leaned forward to plant a kiss on the baby's cheek, her lips trembling as she struggled to pull herself away.

"May you be the happiest, my cherished Y/N.”

When her eyes locked onto your father’s, you could see the suffering in their exchanged silent stares. They shared a kiss, deeply engrossed in the final moment they could spend with each other. The sound of their hearts fracturing in two was almost audible to your ears.

Suppressing her emotions, Paregoros pulled away once their lips parted, transforming into the most sublime and beautiful Goddess you could ever envision. Her white dress clung to her figure in a way that was absolutely enchanting, the train of the gown trailing on the ground. Her hair, now partially swept up, cascaded down in a stunning flurry of curls, and her wrists were embellished with solid gold bangles and bracelets.

"Fare you well, my treasured love. I trust that you will look after yourself as well.”

"I will at least try," he responded, tears streaming down his face. "For her sake.”

Paregoros nodded, her face showcasing the most melancholic of smiles.

When she pivoted away, your father buried his face into the white fabric swaddling the baby, holding himself back from calling out to the woman again. She halted in her tracks, taking a deep breath as she absorbed the sounds of his sobs, before resuming her slow, graceful stride.

"Wait....don't go," you blurted out, trailing behind her. "Mum!”

"She cannot hear you," Morpheus reminded you gently. "She is a recollection from the past.”

"You claimed there was no nightmare in his dream record," you pointed out. "But then, what is this?”

Morpheus swiveled his head, his focus settling on your father, who was weeping and clutching his child, not having the heart to watch his love disappear.

“Look.”

The expression on the man’s countenance changed dramatically as the baby girl opened her eyes. She silently watched him, studying his unfamiliar face, her mouth moving adorably. Your father greeted her by uttering her name, gently stroking her soft chin with his index finger.

As soon as she flashed a smile, you were all enveloped by a radiant, powerful light. Your father was immediately enchanted by that sweet innocence, developing an intense desire above all else to protect such a delicate, pure being from any harm, regardless of the cost.

"My precious little girl... let's go home. Together.”

As evening drew near, your father was losing hope, convinced that you wouldn't return for the day. He sat at the dining table, his leg bouncing up and down anxiously, the ticking of the clock punctuating the passage of time.

He exhaled a lengthy sigh, rubbing his weary eyes and letting his forehead rest against the table. He questioned his decision, pondering if he was truly meant to heed the advice of his subconscious.

He fished out his phone, tapping aimlessly on the screen, hoping for a call or text message that never came. He opened the messaging app, ready to initiate a conversation with your number, but he ended up erasing everything he attempted to type.

He was tempted to get dressed and head straight to your apartment, hoping to at least find you there. But before he could rise from his seat, he sensed a sudden materialization within the room.

He leapt to his feet and let out a scream as a shadowy figure approached, but his fear quickly turned into confusion when he realized it was none other than the King of Dreams himself, holding you in a bridal carry.

He blinked a few times, giving himself a pinch to confirm he wasn't dreaming.

The entity silently observed him, bringing you to the couch and placing you onto the soft cushions.

"It's you...." your father uttered, scarcely believing the sight before his eyes. "Is she...?”

"Yes, she is in slumber,” the Dream Lord replied.

Your father ventured to take a few steps forward, kneeling on the floor for a closer inspection of you. Your breaths were regular and serene, and he could almost swear there was a hint of a smile spreading on your lips.

“She looks like an angel, doesn’t she?”

The King of Dreams didn't respond, but judging by the tender way he was holding you, your father could sense that there was more to the relationship between the two of you.

"You have looked after her well,” he declared.

"She's angered with me, isn't she?”

"No. She is not.”

The Endless stood upright, stepping back to afford the man ample space to sit near you.

Your father gazed at you sweetly for a moment, reflecting on how much you had matured and swelling with pride at your remarkable accomplishments.

In the end, Paregoros was proven right. Whatever could have become of his life had it not been for her and you, was a prospect he didn't even want to entertain.

And while you were relishing your time in the Dreaming with Morpheus' complete approval, he was about to express his gratitude to Dream for returning you to him.

Unfortunately, before he could even speak, the Endless had already vanished.

Note: I obviously don't own the quote from Harry Potter or the Mr. Sandman song. I just like adding random easter eggs here and there at times.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 15 (coming soon) ->

#the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman writing

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 6 months

Text

All Along the Watchtower (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 4.7K

Warnings: brief mentions of past sexual activity, brief mentions of past violence, smoking, British slang, *English Premier League discussion as banter/flirting

Minors DNI

Summary: Rory and Price set off on their mission, meeting with Nikolai to get them into Russia. Once at the safe house, the air is cleared...

A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis.

also available to read on AO3 (edit: link should work now)

October 14, 2017 08:00 - Verdansk, Kastovia

The helicopter made it’s descent into an empty lot, beating back dirt and fallen leaves as the blades began to slow. Surrounded by worn apartments built during the time of the communist bloc, it was a sprawling landscape of bleak grey on grey. Parked not too far away was another helicopter, smaller than the one they’d arrived in, and marked with Russian identification. Waiting beside it was a man with dark hair and dark clothes, sticking out amongst all that was drab and dreary like a bruise – Rory assumed that had to be Nikolai.

The door heaved open, and Price hopped out, ducking as he ran under the blades. This was their stop; their ride would be headed back stateside as Laswell remained sitting. Exiting the helicopter, Rory was hit by the bitterly cold wind, the temperature having dropped several degrees from the maritime temperatures she was used to back home. Her cheeks started to burn, a shiver shaking through her as the material of her fatigues did little to combat the chill in the air, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to keep her core warm, her teeth began to chatter. She followed closely behind the captain, keeping her pace measured, noticing his stride – it was strong, resolute – the man had places to go, and she was along for the ride, but whatever the next steps in the plan were, she hoped it included a coat.

Nikolai crossed his arms over his chest, giving the nearing guests a nod of his head. “Good to see you again,” he called out in a thick Russian accent.

“Always a pleasure, Nik,” Price said, returning the greeting.

The Russian reached into the open door of the helicopter and retrieved two large black duffel bags. “Everything you asked for, Captain. Should be place to change inside.” He tipped his head towards one of the buildings while passing the bags to the two soldiers. As Rory took the bag from his hands, Nikolai looked at her appraisingly, “She’s new.”

“She’s on loan.”

She couldn’t help but give Price a sideways glance, wondering if he was second guessing Laswell’s decision to have her join the mission. It wasn't uncommon for people to assume at first glance she wasn’t made of the right stuff to be a soldier. That was exactly how she got her call name in Iraq.

“Not SAS?” Nikolai asked.

“No,” Rory answered before the Captain could, shifting the heavy bag on her shoulder, the strap digging in. “SRR. Sgt. Rory Sinclair. It’s a pleasure,” she said with a nod.

Nikolai’s brow rose, a half grin spreading across his face. “So polite too, nice change of pace.” He looked over at Price with a sideways glance. “Good to meet you, Sergeant.”

Price patted Nik on the shoulder and started to make his way towards the buildings in the distance and as Rory’s boots thumped against the pavement behind him, he looked over his shoulder at her, his hat tipped forward covering his face in shade. “You speak Russian, Sinclair?”

She’d learned several languages since joining the army, Russian hadn’t been one of them. “No, sir, but I’m a quick study.”

“Good.” He walked a little further before speaking again. “Sergeant?”

His pace slowed, allowing her to move up to walk by his side and she could feel his eyes on her. Perhaps something had finally clicked for him as well. Fixing the strap on her shoulder, Rory held the bag a little tighter to her to stave off the cold before tucking her loose hair behind her ear and looking up at him. “Yes, sir?”

The huff of air that escaped his nostrils streamed out into the early morning air in a fog. A smirk crinkling the lines around his eyes. “You can drop the sir when you’re with me, just Price will do.”

She nodded, clearing her throat of the cold. “Sure.” She bit the tip of her tongue, trying hard not to let the ‘sir’ stumble out. It had been trained into her; most officers expected that sort of respect. It was refreshing to have him be the opposite.

The building they entered was abandoned, practically derelict. Concrete walls crumbled around them to show exposed rebar, the stairs had nearly collapsed. It was a death trap waiting to happen. Her eyes roamed around the entrance, that little voice in her head telling her to check her corners despite not being in a combat situation.

“We’ll get changed here.” His voice cut through her thoughts, and she watched him bend down and open the duffle, pulling out civilian clothes appropriate for the especially cold weather including a toque and coat. Following suit, she opened the bag she was carrying to find her own set of clothing and supplies. Blue eyes met her, gleaming in the dull morning light as he grinned, his moustache curling at the corners of his lips “Hope it all fits. Didn’t have the time to get your measurements before we set off.”

“I’m sure it will be just fine, Captain.”

Rory was no stranger to sharing facilities with the opposite sex, but she’d be remiss to not appreciate the fact that in a situation like this she was glad to have taken part in the SAS interrogation training protocols. Having to show no fear in the face of different stages of undress amongst strangers or otherwise helped her remain calm while unbuttoning her jacket, even as her fingers locked up with the cold. Stripping the jacket off her arms, her eyes dragged sideways at the tear of velcro that filled the room, and she watched Price toss aside his tactical vest and pull off his top, his skin beneath marked with scars and the trail of hair that led down to his...Not right now, Rory. Her eyes fell and she steered her focus back to her own clothing. Pulling her pants down her thighs, untying her boots and kicking them off to remove her lower layer. She grabbed the pair of jeans from the bag and pulled them on, a bit snug in the hips, but she’d make do. A chunky knit sweater was the next thing she slipped on, and immediately she could no longer feel the bite of the cold gnawing at her. The coat was the cherry on top. Slipping her feet back into her boots, she looked over at Price as he adjusted the beanie on his head.

“How do I look?”

“Certainly not like a soldier.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Tossing his gear into the duffel, he threw it over his shoulder before turning back towards the door. “Come on.”

Holding the door open for her, Rory tossed her fatigues into her bag and carried it with her, following him out the door. Even without the stuffy uniforms and gear it was still clear they were two people on a mission, crossing the lot towards Nikolai’s helicopter in a near sprint.

Price’s words were clipped as he spoke to her, giving orders, “We’re about to fly over into Russia. Nik’ll drop us off at his airbase and then we’ll make our way into Moscow. We’re going to be sticking to civvies as much as possible, Laswell doesn’t want us starting a world war over this.”

“Understood.”

“Good girl.”

Her brain short-circuited for a split-second hearing that phrase be used by him and his hoarse rumble of a voice, but she bit her tongue and carried through. It shouldn’t have had the effect on her it did. If it was anyone else, they’d have already received a bollocking for it, but in this case, she let it slide.

October 14, 2017 09:30 - Russian airspace

“About to set down, Captain,” Nikolai called out over his headset as they neared the airbase.

Rory had gone several hours without a cigarette by this point, only surviving by breathing in the secondhand smoke that Price filled the air with from his cigars. Starting out a mission irritable was hardly the preferred method of doing things, but she had few options until they were firmly on the ground and she could grab the pack in the pocket of her fatigues. Instead, she sat with her legs out the door, her feet floating over nothing but air, the land several thousand feet below as she took in the sights.

“How we doing back there, Sinclair?” Price asked, looking back at her as she held onto the slip of thick material provided as a handhold.

Watching as they lowered, her hair whipped around her face with the upstream winds that blew at her, turning her nose red. “In dire need of a fag,” she said with a soft chuckle looking back at the Captain, “but otherwise looking forward to my first visit to Russia.”

“Hopefully not your last,” Nikolai said.

She smiled, there was something rather charming about the Russian, it wasn’t surprising to her that he and Price would be friends.

The descent was quick as Nik sent the helo into a nosedive, and Rory held on for dear life, her heart racing in her chest. She hadn’t felt adrenaline coursing through her like that in some time. The safety of a desk had become far too comfortable but being out in the field felt like coming home.

Upon landing, it was clear that the airbase they’d landed at was relatively remote, with whole hangars left empty. There wasn’t the same sort of military presence here as she had come to expect during her military career, an RAF base was usually teeming with personnel. It was quiet here, vehicles able to come and go as they pleased, a suitable operation for those who apparently weren’t so closely tied to the Kremlin and the powers that be.

Reaching into her duffel, Rory dug through the pockets of her fatigues until she found her cigarette pack and lighter and rested against the outside of the hangar. Placing one of the cigarettes to her lips, she lit it and breathed the warming smoke down into her lungs. Fucking euphoric . Her eyes fluttered shut as the neurons in her brain were given their shot of nicotine, exhaling streams of smoke through her nostrils to burn away the cold that stung at it.

“Careful, Sergeant, those things’ll kill you.”

She opened her eyes to find Price standing beside her, lighting up his own cigar. “I’m not too worried about that, I’m quite sure the job will get me first,” Rory said with a quiet snort.

“You’ve lasted this long.” His black peacoat flapped in the breeze and he tucked the collar up around his neck to guard him from the cold. “Nik’s getting us a vehicle prepped, and then you and I are headed to Moscow. There’s a safehouse waiting for us there.” He took a drag from his cigar, and then blew out the smoke, continuing, “It’s going to be a long drive.”

Looking out at the distance, it was hard to believe she was quite so far from England, and especially to end up somewhere so completely vast in comparison. “Almost makes me homesick, a quick train ride and I can be back in London in a few hours from Stirling Lines.”

“You still call London home?” He asked, shifting his weight, stuffing his free hand into the warm, woolen pocket of his coat.

Her brow furrowed slightly at his choice of word. Still , it was small, barely noticeable, but an odd choice to slip in. He had to remember her, he just wasn’t letting it on, or at least he wasn’t being obvious about it. “It’s where my father lives, right near Craven Cottage.”

The cigar glowed bright as he took another drag from it. “Fulham supporter?”

“Too right.”

“Well, I suppose I should just be glad he’s not with Everton,” he muttered, giving her a smirk.

Rory laughed, the countless hours she’d spent with her father watching football and listening to her fellow unit members keeping up with their teams despite being hundreds of miles away in a desert wasn’t lost on her. “Liverpool?” she asked, returning his smirk.

“The only reds worth a damn.”

“So, I shouldn’t tell you I’m a United supporter then?” Her grin grew wider as she brought the cigarette to her lips again.

“Are you taking the piss, Sergeant?”

She blew out the smoke with a stutter as she coughed out a laugh. “My father would disown me if I supported anyone but Fulham.”

“Well at least I won’t have to be worried about your black and whites ever taking the Premiership.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a mock scowl. “Low blow, Price.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it, Sinclair.” Tipping his head in her direction, he looked up at her through his brow, his forehead creasing as he teased her. “We’ve got an entire mission to complete together after all, can’t let a little old-fashioned rivalry get in the way.”

She flicked the ashes off of the end of her cigarette and brought it back to her lips. “Good competition’s never held me back, sir.” Rory looked at him with her large hazel eyes, a smokescreen billowing between them barely hiding the promise in her expression and her words.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Their eyes met and her heart thundered in her chest, her ears burning but not necessarily from the cold. She was supposed to be professional; it wasn’t like her to flirt with a superior officer, let alone the commanding one, and yet here she was. The mission seemed to already be anything but protocol, and the guilt that should have been there was absent, especially as it was blatantly obvious the Captain didn’t seem to have a problem with it either, joining her in the behavior.

She cleared her throat and straightened up against the wall, dropping the butt of her cigarette onto the tarmac, stomping it out with her boot as Nikolai rounded the corner of the hangar, a pair of car keys in his hand. Now was neither the time nor the place for stoking a flame that had flickered a long time ago. Mind on the mission. Her mind always had to be on the mission.

October 14, 2017 22:30 - Moscow, Russia

He hadn’t lied about it being a long ride, thirteen hours later, spent with their legs squished up in their seats, she was thankful for being able to stretch them and work out the charlie horse that was desperate to settle into her hamstring. A quiet ride with the Captain at the wheel, she spent much of her time looking out the window, watching as the wide-open vistas shrank into yet more grey of the concrete filled cities. Once they reached Moscow things were different, there were lights and sounds that reminded her more of being in the middle of London. The heartbeat of the city beating into her.

Price had the address and the keys to a safe house but parked several blocks away from it. They couldn’t simply park out front without burning themselves and anyone else that might have been using the place. Out in the night they blended with the masses that flocked to the city center that Saturday. Eyes barely landed on them, and the ones that did were put into question. The eyes of the Kremlin weren’t so far away, and working in intelligence Rory knew that no matter how off the books an assignment was, there was always someone with their ear to the ground. They might have let them slip past for the time being, but the moment they became a threat the noose would come falling down. They walked through the streets, heads kept down to pass by sight unseen, their hands in their pockets as the blustering wind bit at any exposed flesh. Price trudged forward remaining quiet, always focused on scoping out any possible threats, he didn’t bother to make small talk, and she certainly wasn’t going to sidetrack him.

Several blocks later, they stopped outside a building that was once a hotel, its facade run down, the bricks greying and chipped with age. Price and Rory stood holding their bags, looking up at it. She was used to safe houses being less than desirable places to stay, it seemed to be a constant no matter where a person was situated. As if for a place to be deemed forgettable and well-hidden it needed to be on the verge of crumbling if a strong wind blew past. She could only hope it was slightly more inviting inside, but she sincerely doubted that.

Climbing the steps up to their assigned suite as noted on the address, Rory was quick to get a beat on her surroundings, scanning for points of entry and available exits. It may have been a safe house, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Ingrained in her to check her corners, to be wary of anything hidden in the shadows, to keep her head on a swivel, Rory’s hand landed on the grip of the handgun tucked into the back of her jeans. Ready for anything.

Price reached the door and swung it open, revealing the room inside to contain only two beds and a bathroom. It was small, the carpets old and worn, and there was one small window with an old radiator below it. They’d be sharing the space for the length of their stay. He peered in, his jaw tightening. “I suppose Nik assumed –”

Rory drew closer to the door, letting her coat fall back over her weapon as she pulled her hand away and stood beside the Captain. She wasn’t surprised this was the situation they’d find themselves in, from a safety standpoint it made more sense for them to share a room, rather than be separated. “It’s fine. I’m not bothered. Hell, I shared a single tent with several people in the middle of the desert. This is nothing. At least this time there’s running water.”

“Right.”

Entering the room, she took off her coat and tossed it onto the bed closest to the window along with her bag, and that same thick lump she had at twenty-three climbed right back up her throat as she turned her head over shoulder and noticed Price’s gaze roaming over her. Rory made a quick exit, moving to the bathroom and turning on the light. The fluorescents above the sink flickered as they slowly filled the room with cool white light. She stood at the sink and turned on the faucet, letting the water run before splashing her face and refreshing herself after being cramped inside a car. Taking a deep breath as the drops ran down her skin and plinked against the basin, the urge for a cigarette came over her once more and she rubbed at her brow, looking up into the mirror – it was time for the pep talk, the conversation she had to hold with herself to get a grip. She could handle this, she’d been in this situation before, minus the fact that there was a history there that neither of them was willing to mention.

As she came back into the room, he had already lit a cigar and had it chomped between his lips, the embers at it’s tip burning bright orange and reflecting in his eyes. Taking a drag of his cigar, he blew out a stream of smoke with a clenched jaw. Chewing on his lip, the wrinkles around his eyes grew deeper. "Shall we deal with the elephant in the room?"

Her mind raced and a wave of tension hit her, flooding every nerve in her body with the need to run. Leaning her shoulder against the door frame she tried to appear casual, bringing a towel to her face to wipe off the water that fell from her chin. “What do you mean?”

He shifted his jaw back and forth and cocked his brow. "Rory Sinclair, you thought I wouldn't remember that name? It's not exactly common.”

The rumble of his voice made her legs shake, purring out her name like no one else could. She huffed out a sigh, a nervous smile pulling at her wind bitten lips. “Well, you certainly didn’t act like you did. Figured my point had been proven about you having a port in every storm back then.”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head as he grimaced, “I assure you, fucking in a bathroom stall was not my go to move.”

“Sure. I’m not going to hold it against you,” she said with a shrug. “We were in our twenties. Even if it was –”

“It wasn’t.” His eyes became steely as he looked at her, inhaling the smoke from his cigar.

Her brows rose and a small grin threatened to break through as she bit down on her lower lip. “The Captain doth protest a little too much, I think.” Moving from the bathroom entrance, she sat down on the edge of her bed and ran her hands through the roots of her hair, pushing the hair to part in the opposite direction. She stared up at him, a sense of relief hitting knowing this was just as awkward for him as it was for her. “Is this going to be a problem? Because if you don’t want me here just send me back to the midlands, I’m sure you can find yourself another soldier.”

His brow furrowed and he pulled the cigar from his mouth, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re just gonna give up that easy?” Looking down at her through his brow with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

She scoffed, her hands falling to either side of her on the mattress as she leaned back. “I don’t give up on anything, but I refuse to be a distraction.”

“You won’t be.” He puffed out his chest as he stretched out his back. “I’m a professional, been at this a while.” His eyes narrowed at her as the smirk pulled at his lips. “I think I can handle having you around, Rory.”

“We’re on a first name basis are we now, John ?”

He rolled his eyes and scratched at his beard. “These are extenuating circumstances,” Price clarified.

Huffing out a laugh as the awkward tension finally broke, she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “Indeed they are.”

He sat down on the side of his bed, sitting across from her as he took another deep inhale from his cigar and pulled off his beanie, placing it on the bed beside him. “ Fucking hell ,” he muttered while rubbing his hand through his hair, brushing out the hat head. Price’s eyes rose to meet hers once more, surrounded by deeper lines and tired bags than had been there before, but she could swear she still saw some of that same desire she witnessed back then.

She shifted in her seat and straightened out her back, holding her head up high, putting on the posture of a soldier standing at attention. “I have no problem with having you as my commanding officer. I’ll still have your six, I can follow orders, you’ll have no reason to complain. This doesn’t have to be weird unless we make it that way.” That’s it Rory, confidence is key. This is nothing. “It’s been five years; we’ve moved on with our lives. Besides, it was one night. Surely, we’ve both had other partners since then, it can’t have been that memorable,” she lied to herself as much as she was lying to him. Rory’s career had been so much of her focus for so long that settling down, finding a partner, it had all taken a backseat. There were still times on a lonely night when she’d think back to the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, his voice in her ear, but she couldn’t let that get in her way. This was a chance to prove herself, to prove that she didn’t have to resign herself to a desk job already, that she could keep up with an SAS officer in the field.

“Well,” he exhaled slowly. Deeply. As if a weight had been lifted. “With that out of the way, perhaps we should get back to work?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded, her face returning to its usual stoicism.

“Good.” John slipped the cigar back between his lips and stood up, pulling a tablet from his bag. “Nik got us some intel on our friend, Igor. Apparently, he has a penthouse suite not too far from here. He’s also been spotted visiting several known businesses in the area with ties to organized crime,” he mumbled around the Villa Clara.

“Checking on his investments, I assume.” Rory asked with a lift of her brow, “Do we know the window of opportunity we have here? Does he have a schedule when it comes to these rounds? Or does he like to keep it random so that he can’t be tracked?”

“Mr. Zorokov has a set of brass bollocks, I doubt he’s too worried about being tracked.”

Rory dragged her palms up the thighs of her jeans, bringing her hands to her hips as her shoulders started to slump. “That makes our job a little simpler. Something can be said for men with egos that big, makes them fall that much harder.” The corners of her lips curled into a smirk. “At least that’s always been my experience.” She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her pack of cigarettes and the lighter. Slipping one from the pack, she brought it to her lips, cupping her hands around the lighter as the flame flickered and sparked smoke into life.

Price continued the briefing, “We’ve already hacked into his security systems at his penthouse, that way we can track when he comes and goes. And Laswell’s working on putting a trace on his phone. I want to stay a step ahead of him whenever and wherever possible.”

Passing her the tablet, Rory scanned through the list of Zorokov’s businesses in the area. Her eyes narrowed as she held the cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply. “ Jesus .” Blowing smoke through her nostrils, the cigarette hung from her lip, bobbing up and down as she spoke, “This bastard’s into human trafficking, allegedly , right? One of these is a gentlemen's club.” Her gaze flicked up to look at Price as she pulled the burning cigarette from between her lips. “How much do you want to bet that’s not staffed entirely above board? Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen that sort of thing.”

His face became stern, “You’ve seen that sort of thing before, what the hell kind of missions were you on?”

“Ones that involve people up at the top of the food chain aren’t usually very pretty, especially when you’re working off the books and with the CIA. There’s a reason why they’ve been deigned deserving of a sniper round in the first place and it’s not always because they’re a loose end or your usual sort of threat.” Her hazel eyes turned dark, hinting at the ghosts in her past, ones stricken from her file or so far out of reach they’d never see the light of day. Things she’d seen and done that would leave a mark, things that made her realize what she was really fighting for and just how far she’d be willing to go to make the world a safer place. “Permission to speak freely, Price?”

“Go on, Sergeant.”

“That’s the one we go to first to find our way to cut off Zorokov’s funds.”

“Is that experience talking, or something else?” John leaned forward, his shoulders hunched, and his forearms pressed to his thighs. He stared into her eyes, trying to get a read on her.

Hazel eyes fell to the ashes of his cigar that dropped to the floor at his feet. Biting at the inside of her cheek, clenching her jaw, she knew why he asked the question, as her commanding officer it was his duty to make sure she wasn’t some sort of loose cannon who’d go off the rails or turn vigilante, he needed someone who’d follow his commands. She could do that, she knew she could, but she couldn’t deny that there were personal motivations there as well. “Bit of both, if I’m being honest.”

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