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itwasrealtome · 2 months ago

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AGENT GRAY

Chapter Nine • No Man’s Land

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⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

Olivia Benson x fem! FBI Agent OC

Summary:

Content Warning: Usual SVU & Violent Crimes talk • young kid missing, mention of alcohol, mention of blood, mention of DNA, mention of violent gesture | Couple breaking up | Some SEAL talk • mention of the desert, mention of bruises and bandaids, mention of military vehicle.

A/N: BASED ON EP.8 – S18 of L&O SVU • Not them starting to flirt 👀 Be ready!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 14

Manhattan, SVU Bullpen

10:52 AM

—Because I thought you'd think that I was a bad mother and then when you did find Theo, you would take him away from me.

Nadine Lachere was half-leaning on the conference table, her eyes sharply accusatory. She'd welcomed guests to her home the night before, checked on her six-year-old son at around two o'clock, and gone to bed herself. But when little Theo's babysitter arrived in the early hours of the morning, his bed was empty. He and the carpet at the foot of the bed had disappeared, leaving behind only a thin trail of blood.

Her face was drawn, pale under the fluorescent lighting, and her knuckles white where she gripped the edge of the table. Olivia watched from a distance, taking it in–the desperation in Nadine's posture, the defensive set of her jaw. Her statement didn't excuse the missing pieces, didn't make up for the alcohol, the dangerous objects in the apartment, or the man she failed to mention. But it gave the outline of a mother who was more broken than cruel.

The Special Victims Unit had been called in. Amanda and Carisi started by taking stock of the situation and gathering information from the mother and her friend. Such parties were a regular occurrence. There was leftover booze on the coffee table, but also a whole bunch of objects that only belonged miles away from a child. The mother was hungover, visibly disoriented and kept accusing her ex-partner.

It might have been a lead if Fin and Carisi hadn't found the DNA of a certain Gabriel Norton in the boy's bedroom. Lachere had said nothing about the man, the same one with whom she'd had a brief relationship that had ended after a violent gesture on his part. She had only wanted to protect her son, to protect their rights.

—Lower East Side. We're headed there now.

Olivia gave a short nod, letting two of her detectives on their way. She was already stepping forward, ready to further investigate with Rollins, when she spotted movement from the bullpen's entrance–him. Ed Tucker. Dressed in a dark grey overcoat, his usual shirt and tie, and that look on his face like he already knew he wasn't supposed to be there.

—Hey.

Just one word, but it landed heavy. The brunette didn't reply right away. Her body had tensed, every nerve on high alert, already pulled in too many directions. Her jaw flexed slightly as she glanced around—detectives moving, phones ringing, lives hanging in the balance.

She didn't have time for this–not now, not in the middle of a missing child case with more emotional weight than most. She had a boy to find. Parents to reassure. People to interview.

—Now's not a good time, Ed.

—I figured, he said gently. But you hung up on me last night, and then nothing. I didn't hear back. I just needed to know if Noah's okay.

That softened something in her. Not much, but just enough. She nodded once, curt but honest.

—He's fine. He just climbed up on the counter when I turned my back for two seconds. I panicked. I shouldn't have hung up, I just-

She stopped herself. There wasn't time to explain how she'd barely slept, how Theo Lachere's case had sunk its claws into her because something about it scratched too close to home. A missing boy. A trail of blood. A mother with excuses and an invisible history of pain.

Ed nodded, stepping a little closer, lowering his voice.

—I get it. I wasn't trying to interrupt anything. I just... needed to see you.

Olivia didn't answer right away. She glanced toward the back of the squad room–Rollins giving her space, but clearly watching. She gave her a small nod, silently telling her to keep things moving while she dealt with... whatever this was.

She motioned for Ed to follow her and led him into her office, the door clicking softly shut behind them. The space was cluttered with files, scribbled post-its, old takeout containers. The air felt tighter now, the buzz of the squad room muffled by the glass. Olivia crossed her arms and turned to him.

—You can't just show up here, she said, not angry, but tired. So, so tired. I've got a six-year-old boy missing and a mother who's giving us half-truths on a good day.

The IA Sergeant didn't answer right away. His gaze had already drifted to her desk, to the folder sitting just a little out of place from the others. The tab was still visible. GRAY, ALEXIS.

He blinked. Took a step toward it.

—You're still looking at that?

Olivia hadn't meant to leave it there, but it was the last thing she'd touched before the call came in. She had tried to put it out of her mind, to focus on the job, but Alexis's file had a gravity to it. There were too many things that didn't make sense–too many silences, omissions. The absence of a reason in that file, the sheer weight of redacted paragraphs and the unexplained decision to leave the SEALs, was like a splinter she couldn't stop picking at.

She didn't flinch. She picked up her notebook and thumbed through it, pretending to be focused on her notes. She didn't answer right away.

—It's related to current cases, she said eventually, her tone even. We've had two–no, three–recent cases involving vets. I wanted to understand the psychological backgrounds a little better.

Her boyfriend didn't move from his place beside the desk. His arms crossed, and his eyes flicked from her to the file again.

—You're not that curious about every file someone hands you, Liv. You've had that for months.

Olivia's fingers froze on the edge of the paper. She didn't look at him. Didn't want to.

—What are you looking for?

It hung in the air, heavier than it should have been.

She straightened and pushed the file away with the flat of her hand, the soft thunk louder than necessary.

—You wouldn't understand, she murmured. Not as a deflection. But because she didn't know how to explain it. Not yet.

Ed sighed and stepped closer, his voice gentler now. Less defensive.

—Try me.

She looked up at him then. The expression on his face was honest—open, even. And for a second, she wanted to take the out. To tell him it was nothing. To smile, maybe, and move on.

But she couldn't lie to him, not this time. She wouldn't.

—Something's not right in that file, she said finally, her voice quieter now. Alexis doesn't walk away without a reason. She's not the type. Her record is spotless. Commendations, leadership. And then one day, she just leaves.

She exhaled, slowly, pressing her thumb into the edge of the desk.

—She told me she left because it was time. But that's not what her eyes said.

—So this is about a hunch? he asked, measured. Or is it about her?

Olivia's jaw tightened. She hated that he asked. She hated that she didn't know the answer.

—You think there's something going on?

—I think you haven't been here with me for weeks. I think you've been somewhere else. And I think you're trying not to ask yourself why.

She wanted to deny it. To say that work had pulled her in, that Theo's case was taking up space in her mind, that the shooting last week still hadn't left her bones. But none of that would explain why Alexis Gray's name kept circling back in her thoughts, always louder than she wanted it to be.

She didn't know what it was. It wasn't about attraction, not exactly. It was deeper than that. Something she couldn't name, maybe didn't even want to. But it was there, and she was chasing it like a shadow that wouldn't sit still.

–There's nothing going on, she said, voice steady, even if she didn't fully believe it herself. She's gone. I haven't heard from her in months.

—But she's still here.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 15

Manhattan — Olivia's Apartment

08:16 PM

The soft hum of the dishwasher filled the background as the quiet of the evening settled around them. The apartment was dim, cozy in the way Olivia always made it at the end of the day–lights low, a candle burning in the kitchen, a blanket folded neatly over the couch. Outside, the wind howled faintly through the cracks around the windows. Winter in the city had dug in deep, bitter and sharp.

The sound of little feet against the floor made the lieutenant smile as she leaned against the corridor wall, arms loosely folded. Noah, ever the bundle of evening energy, barely turned around on hearing his mother's voice. He gave her a grin that was more tooth than obedience and disappeared around a corner. Seconds later, the faucet turned on and a small cup hit porcelain.

Behind her, Ed sat in silence on the couch. He'd taken off his coat, draped it neatly over the armrest, but hadn't settled into the room the way he used to. He looked uneasy, like a guest instead of someone who once made himself coffee in her kitchen without asking. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers laced loosely together, eyes on the hardwood floor as though trying to work up the courage to say what had been weighing on him.

Olivia hesitated as she took in the sight of him: the slope of his shoulders, the silver dusting his hair, the familiar outline of the man who had once made her feel like maybe there could be something after everything she'd endured. Then, with a breath, she stepped back into the room, into the heaviness she hadn't quite been ready to face.

The man looked up the moment she approached, his expression open, tired, and cautiously searching for hers.

—He's getting so big, he said, voice quiet but sincere, as if trying to start with something neutral, something safe.

She nodded, arms crossing lightly over her chest. She didn't sit beside him–she sat across from him instead, and even that space between them felt like an echo of something larger. A gap that had grown slowly, inch by inch, until it had become this quiet thing they both could feel but hadn't dared name.

—Yeah. Too fast some days.

They sat in silence for a few beats, the sound of the TV flickering in the background, some news anchor's voice muffled and irrelevant. The room, once filled with ease and banter, now felt like it held its breath, waiting for one of them to finally crack it open.

Ed leaned forward slightly, clearing his throat.

—Can I ask you something?

She met his eyes, already bracing.

—Is it just me, he said slowly. Or have things... not been great with us lately?

He didn't sound bitter. If anything, he sounded like a man already resigned to hearing something he wasn't ready for. Olivia dropped her gaze to her lap for a second, then looked up again. Her face was calm, composed, but behind that was the familiar restraint she carried like armor.

—I've tried, Ed. Really, I have.

Her words weren't sharp, weren't defensive–they just carried the fatigue of someone who had spent too long trying to hold a shape she wasn't sure fit anymore. She could see the way his expression faltered, the way his brow pinched and his jaw tensed like he was swallowing words he didn't want to say.

—I know. So have I. But I feel like we're not trying at the same time anymore.

Olivia didn't say anything right away. Her chin dipped into the barest nod, slow and heavy, as if the gesture itself weighed more than she could carry. Her throat felt tight, constricted with everything she wasn't saying aloud—because he wasn't wrong. Not about this. They were standing in the same room, breathing the same air, but it was as if they were each tuned to a different signal now, no longer hearing the same rhythm, no longer reaching for the same life.

Whatever had once tethered them together had frayed with time and silence, and maybe it had been unraveling longer than either of them had wanted to admit. Maybe they'd been holding on out of habit. Or hope. Or fear of what letting go might mean. But whatever they were clinging to–it no longer felt enough.

—Is it about me retiring?

The question came out with more weight than he probably intended, but he needed to know. Needed to understand why the woman in front of him had slowly begun to drift like a tide pulling out from shore.

She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples for a moment before letting her hand drop.

—No, she said. Then, after a beat. Yes. Maybe.

She glanced toward the hallway, where Noah had grown quiet again. The bathroom light still glowed under the door.

—When you said you were ready to put the shield down, it caught me off guard. Like you were already ten steps ahead, planning for a life that didn't involve any of this. The job. The late nights. The calls in the middle of dinner. And I just... I froze. Because I don't know what it means to live without all of that. I've been this job longer than I've been anything else. She looked at him then, more vulnerable than she intended. I got scared. Not because you were ready to move on... but because I wasn't.

Ed stood silently for a moment, eyes softening as he watched her. There was a time when he might've taken her hesitation as rejection, when he might've bristled and pushed back. But not now. Not tonight. Not after the years they both carried on their backs. He saw her clearly—not just the Lieutenant, not just the mother, not just the woman trying to hold it all together. He saw the fear behind her eyes, the way her shoulders dropped when she thought no one was looking.

He stepped a little closer, voice lower now, almost gentle.

—Liv... you don't have to explain. I get it.

—No, Ed, I do. You deserve more than half-truth or me shutting down every time things get too close. You've been patient. And kind. And steady. And I'm- She paused, forcing the words through the tightness in her throat. I'm sorry. I really am.

The sergeant exhaled through his nose, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He shook his head once, then reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in the way only someone who truly knew her would dare.

—You don't owe me anything, Liv. Not your guilt. Not an explanation. And definitely not some version of yourself you think I want. You're doing what you need to do–for your son, for your team, for yourself. That's not something to apologize for.

She blinked, holding his gaze. Her eyes were glossy now, but she wouldn't let the tears fall. Not here. Not yet.

—Still... it feels like I'm breaking something. Something that could've worked, maybe, if we'd both just-

—If we'd both just been someone else, Ed finished for her, a trace of a smile cutting through the sadness. Someone in a different time, different place. Yeah. I've thought that too.

She swallowed, nodded slowly. It was the most honest thing they'd said all night. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead–chaste, familiar, with the weight of all the moments they would never have. Then he stepped back and let his hand fall away.

He grabbed his coat off the chair and slid it over his shoulders in practiced silence. The room felt colder now, but not unfriendly. Just... quieter.

He made it almost to the door before turning around one last time. His voice was steady, but the softness in it nearly undid her.

—Take care of yourself, Olivia Benson.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 15

Manhattan — Olivia's Apartment

11:03 PM

The apartment was silent.

That thick kind of silence that only settles after an emotional day, when the city hum outside seems miles away and the walls themselves are holding their breath. It was getting late. Olivia sat on the couch, a blanket pulled around her shoulders, half-drunk tea cooling on the side table next to her. The TV was off. The lights were dim. The glow from the hallway, leading to Noah's room, was the only thing casting warmth across the apartment.

The little boy had gone to bed hours ago, just after Ed left. He was curled up under the covers, his favorite stuffed animal close to his chest, lost in dreams his mother wished she could join. But her thoughts were tangled, restless. She had stood by the door long after the man walked out, his last words lingering like perfume: "Take care of yourself.". She had whispered you too, but he hadn't heard it.

Now, she sat still, her phone in her hand again, turning it over slowly like she wasn't sure whether she wanted to reach out or hide from the world. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating. She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say—only that she missed her. Missed talking to her. Missed knowing she was safe.

Finally, with a slow breath, she reached for it again. She opened her messages and stared at the last contact in the thread.

Alexis Gray.

She hadn't heard from her since the brief FaceTime call Miles had told her about a week ago. Alexis had left on deployment on November 1. Since then, just a few breadcrumbs. A call. A nod that she was okay. But no real contact. Not with her.

Her thumb hovered, hesitated, then typed.

Hey. Just checking in. Hope you're okay.

She read it three times before pressing send, then set the phone back down as though expecting silence. Olivia exhaled, rubbed her eyes, and tried to shake the feeling like she was pressing on a bruise she couldn't see.

The buzz of her phone startled her. FaceTime. Alexis.

Her heart jumped. She scrambled to answer it, stepping back into the soft glow of the living room lamp as the screen came to life.

—Well, well, Alexis drawled with a smirk the second the camera focused. I knew it–you really can't live without me, huh?

The lieutenant let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. Relief coursed through her. She didn't even try to hide it.

—You look like hell, she said instead, but there was a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

Gray raised a brow and angled the camera. She was wearing full fatigues, her name tag and unit patch visible beneath a few streaks of desert dust. Her face bore new bruises, a small butterfly bandage near her temple, and her hair was pulled back into a tight but slightly messy bun. She was squinting into harsh sunlight. Behind her, Olivia could just make out the edge of a tent, a beige military vehicle, and what looked like an endless stretch of hot, sun-scorched sand.

—Yeah, well, not everyone gets to live in luxury Manhattan apartments with throw pillows and central air.

—Where are you?

Alexis adjusted the phone slightly, panning slowly.

—Can't say. But I can show you a little.

Olivia watched the screen fill with the desert landscape–flat, arid, the kind of place that felt a thousand miles away from everything. Even the sky looked different–brighter, more unforgiving. Heat shimmered off the sand like a mirage.

—Jesus, Olivia muttered. It's so... empty.

—Yeah. But in a weird way, it's quiet. You don't realize how loud the world is until you're away from it.

They settled into a silence that didn't feel awkward. Olivia moved to the couch and sat down, holding the phone with both hands now, as if steadying a thread between them.

—You okay? Alexis asked eventually, her tone softer now. You look exhausted.

The oldest hesitated, her gaze flickering for a moment as if weighing the decision. After a beat, she nodded, but the gesture lacked conviction, her eyes betraying uncertainty she wasn't ready to voice.

—Yeah. I just... It's been a long week.

—That a lie or one of your "I'm-fine-but-not-really" things? You forget, I've seen you shut down before.

The brunette leaned back slightly, her gaze sharp as she watched Olivia, knowing her well enough to miss the signs of something being held back. It wasn't just tiredness in her eyes or the way she clenched her jaw when a certain topic came up–it was something deeper, something that spoke of the quiet struggles she never let anyone in on.

—I broke up with Ed.

Alexis blinked, just once. No big expression. But Olivia noticed the subtle shift—the tightening of her jaw, the softening in her eyes.

—Oh.

She didn't immediately say more, and Olivia appreciated that. No questions. No drama. Just presence.

—It wasn't... dramatic, Olivia continued, voice low. I think we both knew something wasn't right. We just didn't say it out loud for a while.

The commander leaned back, phone angled so that only her face remained on screen, with the faded blue sky stretching behind her.

—Do I need to find him and beat his ass?

Olivia let out a laugh, a quiet, breathy sound that caught even her off guard. It had slipped out before she could stop it—surprised.

—No. Lexi, come on.

—Just checking. I've got boots and a full tank of pettiness.

She laughed again, softer this time. And when it faded, her face relaxed into something more honest.

—I feel bad. Like I broke something that maybe could've worked. If I just tried harder. But... I don't know. It never felt... right-right. Just good on paper. Safe.

Alexis nodded slowly.

—Safe's not enough. Not for someone like you.

There was a stretch of quiet again. Olivia looked at her, really looked. At the sweat on her forehead, the smudge of dirt near her cheek, the quiet resilience in her expression. The way she always felt like the only person in the world who got it, without needing the words.

—You're more than just a colleague, you know, Olivia said finally, her voice hushed.

Green eyes didn't leave hers. Gray didn't smile or joke this time. She just nodded, once.

—Yeah. I know.

—Is this insane?

—If it is... we're in it together.

The wind picked up behind the SEAL, lifting grains of sand into the dry desert air. Her silhouette shifted slightly as she turned her head, instinctively responding to the sudden gust. For a moment, her features were framed against the open sky, bathed the strong embers of the still rising sun.

She looked past the screen, her gaze scanning the vast emptiness beyond the tent—alert, even here, even now. Then she turned back, her eyes settling on the camera again, steady and sharp, like she hadn't missed a beat.

—I've got to go. Another transport's coming in.

—Stay safe, Olivia said, a little too quickly.

Alexis gave her a small smile, softer now. More vulnerable.

—I always do better when I know you're watching.

TAGLIST: @nciscmjunkie @makkaroni221 @thefatobsession @ginasbaby @certainlychaotic @kiwiana145 @kobayashi-fr @hi-i-1

#olivia benson x reader #law and order svu #olivia benson x oc #olivia benson #law and order svu x oc #svuseason18 #law and order svu x reader #agent gray #chapter nine #new chapter

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dawntilduskclan · 7 days ago

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Time for a lore drop! And Oriolepaw is getting more curious about her clan's past

This chapter was really important to me to develop the culture of my clans. I'm not the first person to point this out but it is so boring a lame that the canon clans don't have any kind of holidays or celebrations and they don't sing or have festivals??? BORING ITS SO BORING!!

So here are our Duskclan cats having a festival of their own and we learn a little more about that day a year ago... Also, who is that stranger on the last page...?

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eryiss · 2 months ago

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The Liar Prince of Fiore: Chapter Nine

Summary: Laxus knew Freed better than anyone else, but everyone had secrets. With Freed's secrets laid bare. his past life of royalty, titles and expectations come back to haunt him. Laxus makes a promise to protect him. For as long as necessary, he will play the role of Freed's husband. It might have been easy, if Laxus didn't wish so much for their lie to be true.

Notes: Hi all. Not much to warn about, other than weaponised manure. But it’s used on someone nasty, so it’s totally fine. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it.

Links: Ao3, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Chapter 9 - The Brother

Blinding sunlight flooded in from all the windows, hot and debilitating. Then there was the wind, hammering against the side of the house with vicious ferocity, and Laxus acted with instinct. He let Jasper go, storming to Freed and jerking him around, using his own body to cover Freed just before the glass shattered into sharp fragments. He grunted as they shot into his back, holding Freed close to him as the deluge of wind battered at them, cycling through the room with manic ruthlessness.

The wind ceased as quickly as it came, and Laxus let Freed go just enough to check he hadn't been cut. "You okay?"

"Fine, you?"

"Fine," Laxus shrugged off. "You got me a thick jacket. Dealt with most of it."

"Good," Freed nodded, then glanced to where Jasper had been standing. The doorway was empty, and both Laxus and Freed ran through it, spilling into the empty hallway. The doors lay smashed open on the floor, with Jasper nowhere in sight.

"Fuck," Laxus hissed. "He can't have gotten far. If we just-"

"Wait," Freed said softly, and carefully approached a high bookcase pushed up against the wall. He grabbed it with both hands and, with a bit of effort, pulled it out. It swung on hidden hinges, revealing a passage with a stairwell going down in one direction, and a crawl space going deeper into the house. "He'll have used this. I'll take the crawl space, you take the stairs?"

"Maybe. Hold on," Laxus turned back to the music room before yelling, "Shut up!"

In the silence that came following, Laxus took quiet steps into the door well of the passage way. He closed his eyes, slowly lowered himself to the ground, and pressed his ears on the cold stone. It took a second, but he heard the sound of running footsteps, clattering quickly on the same level. He'd gone through the crawl space.

"Got him," Laxus said as he stood straight again. "We can-"

His plotting was disrupted when a house full of servants and guests left the music room, all demanding answers to questions, or for medical help, or just to be let out of the madhouse. In the middle of them all was Harding, the stable hand, who was being peppered with questions that, if Freed had been correct, the man wouldn't be able to answer even if he wanted to.

"I'll deal with this," Freed said. "I know the spell Jasper used, I have runes that can reverse them. Track him down and stop him from getting away."

"Right."

Leaving Freed to the crowd, Laxus shot down the crawl space, sending spurts of lightning ahead of himself to light up the darkness. He pushed through cobwebs, ducked under stray beams, and ignored the creaking of floorboards under him as he pounded through the passageway. There were spy holes drilled through walls, removable slats of wood that made up the ground floors ceiling, and even a one way mirror looking into the room he and Freed had been sleeping in. Thank fuck Freed had runed their room for soundproofing, at least.

He couldn't hear Jasper over the sound of his own running, and was grateful that the passageway seemed to be linear rather than spiralling off into a maze. He burst through a door, which proved to be the large painting of a long dead lord on the upper landing of the hallway. There were no doors this end of the upper floor, nor stairs, but there was a balcony overlooking the main entrance. Looking over it, there was a swirl of mess on the floor, and leaves blustering around. Laxus guess; Jasper had vaulted over the balcony to the lower floor, and used a gust of wind to propel him up just enough to stop him hitting the ground with force.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught Laxus' attention. Through the window, he could see Jasper running across the house's land, towards the side gateway beside the lake.

Not wanting to risk losing line of sight, Laxus forced out a beam of lightning, hitting the old wooden frame of the window, splintering it. With a shove, he pushed the window out of its place, sending it crashing to the ground and shattering on contact. He leapt through the gap left, managing to pass the shattered glass and landing on one knee on the gravel drive. It cut his hand a little, but he pushed up and started chase, magic crackling around him.

The sound of the breaking glass must have gotten Jasper's attention, because the moment Laxus was standing again, a thick fog enveloped him. It was thick enough Laxus felt the damp, and knew his lightning was rendered pointless. But that was fine; he was a mage. If there was one thing every mage did, it was to get the lay of the land, and he'd had a full day walking the grounds with Freed to know where he was, and where Jasper would be going.

Pushing through the haze of fog, Laxus kept his pace fast and relentless. The point of the fog was to disorient him, and slow him. Laxus couldn't let either happen, and through his limited sight, he made note of anything that could be considered a landmark, and changed direction accordingly. He was faster and stronger than Jasper; he just needed to keep going.

Light breached, and he left the thick fog in a sudden burst, founding himself in the statue yard. He heard breathing that wasn't his own. Jasper was here; out of breath too. Pathetic.

A burst of lightning struck down from the sky, shattering one of the statues to rubble.

Apparently Jasper knew better than to be baited or to sit around, because he rushed out from behind a hedge, and towards the nearest exit of the statue yard. Laxus sprinted after him, but a burst of wind pushed against him, followed by a deluge of fast falling snow that stuck quick and thick to the ground. He kept on running, trudging as best he could through the uneven terrain, protecting his eyes from the snow as to keep his gaze on Jasper.

He shot lightning at the man, which struck a magically formed globe of snow, melting it but turning his lightning to a weak beam. When he went to cast his next spell, another burst of wind knocked his balance and sent the stream sailing into the ground.

With a growl, he looked up and let out a Dragon Slayer's roar, uninhibited lightning bursting through the snow clouds and overpowering the spell. By the time he looked down, the snow had all settled on the ground, and Laxus could see where Jasper had got to. He was getting closer and closer to the exit, and the thick forest he could easily hide himself in. Laxus surged forward.

Jasper continued weak attempts at slowing Laxus. He summoned rainclouds to muddy the ground, more snowstorms, endless blasts of wind, and even a pathetic attempt at summoning lightning that only served to power Laxus up.

"You're not winning this," Laxus roared over the sound of multiple freak storms. "Might as well stop."

But jasper didn't. He kept running, and so did Laxus. He cast no more spells, focusing entirely on catching up with Jasper. He could take the guy with his fists without breaking a sweat. Getting to him before he could duck into the forest was the most important thing.

Forcing forward through ice covered slush and thick sludgy ground, Laxus found himself catching up, but Jasper was faster than he looked. He was getting closer and closer, and Laxus was considering the best way to burn the forest to the ground, when overwhelming magic burst forward, familiar and warm.

Walls of runes sprouted from the ground, flying into the sky and patched together with lightning, just like the runes protecting their room when Laxus had been reversing the memory spell. Battencorp Manor was inescapable, and Laxus turned to look back at the house to see the man behind it.

There Freed was, standing in the shattered windows of the music room, coat and hair billowing in the wind, magic pouring off of him beautifully.

Jasper was panicking. His escape route was taken from him, and Laxus approached with lightning crackling across him, the scales protruding off his forearms a testament to his fury. Jasper looked to the left, hoping to flee, only to see a small battalion of rune army soldiers approaching, weapons drawn and spells at the ready. When he looked to the right, there was the vast, deep lake.

He had four options. The army, the lake, Laxus, or conceding defeat.

The idiot chose the lake.

He ran towards it manically, jumping off the deck and submerging himself in the dirty water as quickly as he could, swimming inelegantly, his fancy clothing doing nothing to help his speed. It would take the rune army a bit of time to approach, so Laxus all but meandered towards the side of the lake, grinning.

Honestly; who could be so stupid to jump into a still-water lake when they were trying to get away from a lightning mage? Rich guys really were good for nothing.

Hand raised in the air, Laxus bought down strike after strike of lighting onto the lake's surface. Jasper's scream might have been harrowing, if he hadn't proven himself to be a monster not deserving of pity. Laxus kept his magic flowing, knowing just the moment he had to stop before killing the man. Once the lightning vanished, Jasper floated limply in the lake, body smoking and juddering slightly, lax and unconscious. Face down, too. If Laxus did nothing, he could watch the man drown.

But out of everyone in this house, Jasper had fucked Laxus over the least. The wronged parties deserved to be the ones taking their revenge, not him. So Laxus climbed into the water, waded towards the man, yanked him to the shore, and dumped him in the mud for the rune knights to pick him up.

———

Rather than instantly carting him away for his crimes, the knights insisted they needed a full picture of what had happened. They didn't doubt Jasper's guilt, not after whatever message Freed had sent to them, but they needed to know exactly what he had done and who his victims were. As such, they'd needed somewhere to keep him before arresting him. It had been Laxus' pleasure to suggest the nearby stables.

As much as Laxus wanted to storm back and tend to Freed in whatever way he needed, he refused to let Jasper out of his sight. Yes, he was unconscious, had been tied to a fence, gagged with a horse's bit to stop any verbal spells, and was surrounded by rune knights. But a man willing to cast the spells he had was unpredictable; Laxus wouldn't risk them losing him.

He just wished Freed came to him. Just so he could be sure nothing bad had happened.

When the door to the stable opened, Laxus jerked his head towards it, momentarily thinking Freed somehow knew he needed him and had come. But it wasn't Freed. It was her. The Queen. Freed's damn cousin.

"You certainly had fun keeping him contained, didn't you Mr Dreyar," Hisui said, looking down at the unconscious man. "Was the gag entirely necessary?"

She walked into the stable like she owned the damn place, and it got Laxus' hackles rising. He'd heard good things about her, but a Queen was a Queen, and they always thought they deserved to get what they wanted. Laxus couldn't stop the memories of Freed when his past identity had been found out; the fear he'd felt before Jasper had reared his head. Freed was scared to go back to a life of royalty and duty, and this woman likely thought she would have to do nothing more than clicking her fingers to get him in line.

"You're not taking him," Laxus grunted, standing tall.

She looked perplexed. "I'm aware he's done some terrible things, but I can't allow you to kill him without total necessity."

"Not him," Laxus snapped, glancing at Jasper for a moment. "Freed. I don't care what the hell kind of bullshit duty or responsibility you think he has, you're not having him. And if you've got any ideas about-"

"Mr Dreyar, I'm going to stop you there because I think you're gearing up to tell me that you don't care who I am, and that you're willing to stop me if needs be," she smiled, and Laxus found it to be more patronising than anything else. "Given that that would be a treasonous statement, and considering the company we currently keep," she gestured to the room of royal guards, "maybe give it a second to think your words out?"

"You're not taking him," Laxus repeated with a growl.

"Nor do I intend to," she assured him. "Believe it or not, we've known where he was for as long as he's gone by that name. He's done nothing to bring disrepute nor danger to the crown. Well, nothing we couldn't overlook anyway. I'd say you're a bad influence for him, Mr Dreyar, but I think we both knew he had a bit of darkness in him all along. Theatrical too. I've always wondered; was it him who suggested you did your little coup on the day of the harvest festival. I assume so; he's dramatic to a fault, even if he'll deny it."

"You know about that?"

"He's my favourite cousin; I've kept tabs. It's why I answered when he sent me a message."

"Then why'd you let the marriage crap happen if you want him staying at the guild."

"I can't control everyone's actions, Mr Dreyar. Nor should I. Unfortunately, that means that people will act outside of what I think is the correct course of actions every second of the day," she gave a pointed look to the bound man. "To catch you up to speed, the true Earl of Battencorp has been given his autonomy back, but the process has rendered him needing some time to recover. Your husband-" she seemed amused even saying the word; she obviously knew "-is tending to him. They'll be out when the Earl is ready, I expect. No doubt the poor man will have some things to say to his little brother."

"What's gonna happen to him?"

"Incarceration, no doubt. The memory spell was linked to the spells cast on Harding. Freed removing that spell has removed all memory altering spells, including the one cast on me. That's proof enough of a crime. Our legislature says every instance of dark magic like that would call for a minimum sentence of five years. The spell was cast on hundreds of people at least; the charges will quickly mount up," She looked down at the unconscious man. Laxus didn't know what she was thinking. "Harding was a good man. Couldn't have been more than twenty when everything begun. Even knowing that we were magically compelled to forget him, it's hard not to feel like we let him down in the most disgusting way possible. Freed feels the same way, I should warn you."

"He's that kind of man," Laxus sighed.

"He is," Hisui agreed. "You'll help him realise he did all he could when he had the facts, yes?"

"Of course."

"Good," she nodded, then reached into the inner pocket of her cloak. "I'm not here to take him from you, Laxus. I'm here to set him free."

She handed Laxus a brown folder, wrapped up with string. "What is it?"

"The documents of formal abdication," she explained, taking a seat on the rusted bench Laxus had perched on. "I understand why he never came to me when it happened. The world has changed, I've changed, and his position in the chain of inheritance has changed. I don't hold it against him that he didn't trust me to do what's best for him, but this is it," she patted the folder. "All he needs to do is sign this document - at the palace I'm afraid, so you'll have to plan a visit - and he'll lose his title, his inheritance, and his past life."

"That's all it takes?"

"I told you he was prone to the dramatics," she laughed. "I'm just glad I got to him before he did something truly stupid, like - oh I don't know - making up a husband and wrangling in a man who clearly loves him to play the role."

"I don't-"

"You do. As does he, I think. He'd be silly not to," She nudged him on the shoulder. "You'd be good to him, I'm sure of it, and would suit his needs to perfection. That's all I'll say on the matter," she tilted her head slightly. "No, actually I've a little more. Not to rush you, but either get married or her rid of that forged document from the department of marriage records. I don't know how you got it there, but either legitimise it, or remove it."

Laxus' cheeks were flaming, and her knowing little smile suggested she knew which option Laxus would prefer. "Right."

"Good man."

They sat in silence for a while, waiting for Freed and Harding to come to the stables. There was a silent agreement that Harding needed to be given the chance to see his brother if he wanted to. Laxus still craved to see Freed, but knew that he was likely acting as a friendly face to the tortured earl, and Laxus storming in with possessive worry would do no good.

At some point in the following hours, Jasper woke. He struggled against his binds, yelled through his gag, and tried and failed to cast spell after spell. Only when he saw Laxus and Hisui watching him did his eyes widen in true fear, and he settled down again.

Still they waited. The afternoon went on with nary a word, and every time Jasper tried to cast a spell or loosen his binds, Laxus shot a small spark of lightning to the centre of his chest, just to remind him just how fucked he was.

Eventually, the doors opened, and Freed walked in, Harding following.

Nobody spoke, and they all watched as Harding looked down at his brother. Jasper looked up at him, and they stared each other down. Laxus was surprised that he could only see hatred in Jasper's eyes. Harding stared like the man below him meant nothing at all. That's what made him so dangerous in the moment.

"I intend to let the courts destroy you with the full force of the law," Harding said, voice firm. "I won't interfere, I won't make suggestions on your case, nor will I be at your trial. I plan on living without thinking about you again."

Jasper began yelling through his gag, his words muffled. After all this, he wanted a reaction.

"But, I think I'm owed something. You were so petty, with what you made me do. Often I thought death would be preferable, and I thought that simply because you wanted to treat me like dirt. So I will afford the same courtesy to you."

The room watched as Harding walked to the corner of the stable, and hefted a shovel. For a moment Laxus expected him to strike his brother across the head with it, but Harding left the room for a moment, before returning with the shovel still in hand. His revenge was clear, and nobody made any move to stop him.

Jasper was wide-eyed and struggling manically as Harding approached him, hefting a shovel overflowing with the rancid horse shit that he'd been shovelling for years now. Jasper pulled and pulled at his bounds as Harding got closer. Still, nobody stopped him.

Harding's calm detachment slipped for a moment as he grabbed Jasper's hair and forced him to look up, before slowly, tauntingly dumping the entire shovel of manure straight onto his handsome, furious, scared face.

It was brutal and revolting and spiteful. It was what Jasper deserved.

They sat in the moment, understanding just a scrap of what Harding's life had been. If this was his form of fitting revenge, then nobody was going to begrudge him that. Jasper struggled and roared through his gag, trying to fling off the crap. Nobody moved to help him.

"I don't wish to see him again," Harding said, and walked out of the stable without further word. The doors closed softly, and he was gone.

"Right," Queen Hisui clapped her hands, turning to Freed. "Cousin dearest, we'll see each other again soon, I hope, but for now you must go. Mr Battencorp is in the purview of the crown and we have decisions to make, so both you and your companion are dismissed. Quickly now."

With a shared glance, Laxus and Freed left the stable. They walked away, and the guards who had been standing outside swarmed in, chains of runes ready to take their prisoner in. Neither Laxus nor Freed paid them any mind as they walked.

"Ready to go home?" Laxus asked, tucking the papers for Freed's freedom into his jacket pocket again.

"More than anything," Freed said, and the two of them walked towards the main entrance of the grounds. The houses staff were loud as Harding walked towards them, the rune knights were all around trying to maintain control, and Laxus was back by Freed's side.

Exactly where he should be.

#freed justine #laxus dreyar #fraxus #fairy tail #fanfic #writing #multi chap #canon divergence #fake relationship #friends to lovers #Prince AU #Chapter Nine

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kolour-me-kourt · 1 year ago

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Chapter Nine: Leaky Faucet

It had been two weeks since her first date with Jayson. She had been doing some traveling for work but now she wasback in her city it felt great. Talking to Jayson was apart of her daily Routine she woke up to his good Morning messages she went to sleep with him on the phone she watched his games every time she could she was hooked. She had forgot what it felt like to be in a relationship texting the person whenever you wanted and not being scared of developing feelings she loved it.

When she got home from work she noticed a large Bouquet of Flowers on her front porch she smiled Jayson was so sweet she unlocked her door bringing them in. She shut her door locking it and taking her shoes off going straight to her kitchen looking for the card and her face dropped it wasn't from Jayson at all .... It was Melo🙄.

Hope you haven't forgot about me yet. But We both know you can't 💕 4L

She rolled her eyes he had texted a few times when the pictures came out of her and Jayson all over Boston he wasn't happy at all for three days straight all he saw was her and Jayson on his Twitter feed. But he was getting a taste of his own Medicine for months she watched him and his girlfriend all over social media. Him liking all her pictures and commenting sweet things while she knew the truth but the moment she steps out he's mad.

But no now she was fed up she decides to FaceTime him but she hears the phone ringing at her door she gets scared but goes to her front door looking out the peep hole and there is Melo with a big smile on his face. "I hear you breathing heavy with your short ass" it's cause she was scared he's clearly crazy.

"go away pleaseeee" "you were calling me for a reason" "to tell you to leave me Tf alone Fr Melo " "I drove a while just let me in at least let me see you...."

She thought for a sec and then let him in. At the end of the day she know he won't hurt her physically he's just being annoying asf. He tries to go in for a hug but she moves. "You got some fuckin Audacity to show up here.... Like?" "I just wanted to see if you miss me?" "I think your girl does you should go see her" "why you gotta do that?" "Because why are you here? I'm trying to move on it's selfish of you to even be here right now" "ima selfish Nigga" He laughed "well stop!" "YN just answer the question do you miss me?" "I'm happy did you know that? He makes me really happy he cares about me he makes time for me" "oh so I didn't make time for you? I'm making time right now cause you important to me" she sighed

"what's your point...." "Well if you talking to somebody and I'm in a relationship ... We can still do what we do best but without all the bullshit that you made up cause .... You got somebody to worry about your feelings.... so Let me worry about your body" he brings her body close to him and she gets weak in the knees and just as he's about to kiss her .... Her phone rings saved by the bell.

She jogs back to the kitchen answering Jayson as Melo follows behind her rolling his eyes. "Hey baby you got home fast today" He says smiling in the camera making her naturally smile but she was nervous Melo was unhinged he could say anything and basically ruin this she didn't like feeling guilty. "Yeah I left the office a little early cause you know I'm going out tonight" "yeah I remember cause you gon miss my game" "maybe not we might go to a bar I'll see if they'll put it on" "they Better if not give me a call" Melo rolled his eyes smirking "bae stop 😂😂😂" "okay okay ima let you go so you can get ready .... Don't drive if you drink" "of course not I'll Uber everywhere😘 mwah" "oooou I miss them lips ...." "I miss your lips more" he bits his lip " I doubt it Bae but text me when you get in or call and I'll do the same" "okay Jay" "alright I'll talk to you later bae....bye" "byeeee" he hangs up she fully exhales

"Well that seemed forced" Melo says with laughter in his voice she rolls her eyes "it's never forced with him though and most importantly I don't have to hide" "you let him hit yet?" "that's not your damn business" "I can't lie when I saw those pictures of you bowling in that tight ass pink dress I almost lost my mind he was right behind that ass ..... remember I had you bent over the night before that? Deep in that pussy moaning my name you couldn't help yourself then the next day somebody else on that ass how I'm supposed to feel?"

She sighed just his words made her feel him once again but she wasn't a cheater. And she hated that he had this little power over her maybe when her and Jayson do have sex it'll be gone."What I do is no longer your business you cannot be sending me gifts you can't be texting and you definitely can't come to my house anymore I mean that Lamelo I need you to understand how very serious I am I like him a lot I can potentially love him so please leave me alone maybe in the long run we can be friends but for right now let me live my life"

He walked over to her kissing the top of her head innocently as she looked up at him he took the card out of the flowers and backed up. "So you don't wanna fuck me no more?" He said half way joking but also being serious She bit her lip

"no" she says softly he smacked his lips "see.... You don't even mean that shit" "I'm not a cheater Lamelo" "how it's cheating y'all not in a real relationship yet you being loyal to niggas when y'all just talking?" "we are though we made it official the first date you don't know nothing about that though you couldn't commit if it was gun to your head" "if you think he being loyal you out of your mind no nigga just jumps into a relationship like that something wrong with him you special but he still a nigga" "well I'll cross that bridge when I get to it" "okay but if you cheat back cheat with me" "Lamelo!"

"Okay okay that was a joke my bad .... Ima head out ima lose your number and leave you Tf alone but when it don't work out with him and you hit me back up you gon have to make it all the way up to me .... I'm talking rounds" she rolled her eyes "bye the cockiness coming out of your body is not charming right now try to be happy for me" "so what you gon do when he can't fuck you like I fuck you? You think anybody knows your body like I do? I be in that shit ...... you think he can do that to you?"

That's definitely something she had thought about even on Melos off nights the sex was good.But her and Jayson hadn't had sex yet she was taking it slow. "I do think he can yeah" "you know you lying .... You think you getting three nuts with him?" "It's easy to make me cum" he rolled his eyes again

"shut up it's easy for me to make you cum not nobody else not even yourself" He was telling the truth but the only reason it took her a while was because she would start thinking about other shit or she would just get tired "well he'll figure it out cause he gives enough fucks to figure it out but as of right now it's still not your business cause even if he can't make me cum it's not your job anymore it never should've been your job so go back to your girl I have shit to do" "alright alright you getting mad so .... I'm gone.... enjoy my flowers and I'll still send you stuff cause you deserve shit and if at any point I wanna text you I'll just dm you ... ight?" "As if you're gonna listen to me you do what you wanna do but don't expect shit from me" "ight then" he licks his lips leaving her kitchen heading straight to her front door and walking right out.

The pictures of her and Jayson were over ever blog by the time they even had a second date they were calling her the mystery girl. They saw everything from the hand holding to the kisses on the back of the golf cart they had every picture of them at dinner that night and at the bowling alley she had never scrolled so many times and saw herself it was wild and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not people still didn't really know who she was and she liked that. She's a normal girl who's dating a NBA player .... That's it.

Yo you good you seemed a little out of it on the phone... I know you didn't say anything but if I'm hitting you up to much let me know..... I wanna ease you into everything so if I'm doing too much or not enough let me know

Seeeee Jayson is perfect like he's about to go play his heart out but he took the time to text her cause he was worried. And he already knows her so well and is willing to work with her to help her unlearn some unhealthy behaviors she has in relationships.... He was Guiding her through it all she loves it here

I am so sorry it's just a lot going on here but when I can I'll explain it to you in person so I can be 100% honest but you talk to me the right amount I Love the messages and phone calls ... please don't stop

😂😂 okay okay you had me worried

Nahhh don't worry 😘 enjoy your game baby

I will every free throw that goes in is for you so make sure you send me pictures of what you wearing tonight🤤🤤

Well I know y'all about to win so it'll be a lot and You using that emoji like you know ima look good

I do know you're gonna look .... When do you not look good?

When I first wake up

I bet that's a lie I guess I'll see that soon though

Mmmm will you?

Yeah.... I'm almost certain that I will

We shall see Bae ....

Shall? Really YN

Yeah I'm fancy tonight

😂😂 I gotta go Fr bae be good and have fun

Alright bae ttyl

He loved the message

She had all intentions on telling him about Melo because now he was involved in it and she doesn't ever want him in a situation not knowing something from her past cause she doesn't wanna seem sneaky and one things for sure if you hide something like that from a partner it'll come to light

*three months later*

Melo and his girl had broken up. Messages were leaked where he was talking to other girls. What does this have to do with YN? Her messages were leaked too thankfully it wasn't any nasty things but it left a lot of people wondering why Jayson Tatum's girlfriend was texting Lamelo Ball five months ago. How did they know each other?

Thankfully the season was over so they had been spending more time with eachother. It was his week to come to her city and spend time with her. When the news broke they were just chillin on the couch her head in his lap as he played in her hair he was watching a game and she was on her phone. Doing their own thing together had been their way to relax. As she scrolled Aimlessly through Instagram she saw the blogs reporting on Melo and then she saw her contact name with her picture.... What type of Cheater puts a picture of the girl too. She didn't like him for being thorough but especially not now she gasp loudly

"oh my gosh bae" "what's up" she sat up slowly. "Ummm Melos text messages leaked...." "And?" "And some of our threads leaked too and he had my picture saved on my contact so people know it's me it's from five months ago" he rolled his eyes he remained quiet which scared her more. He was getting annoyed with the same conversation Melo was constantly coming up he was over it "Please say something" She says softly she could feel his energy but she didn't judge him for it. She completely understands it.

"you gon tell me how serious it was now? Because you didn't go in enough detail which was fine then but now people about to be a dog with a bone and I don't need nobody coming to me telling me shit about you that I don't know so tell me everything right now" "he's the guy I was talking about the first night we met—" He cut her off cause he could tell she was about to drag this on and he was running out of patience "duh you told me that tell me something else some shit I need to know is your pussy in his phone? Where you talking about sexual shit with him? Did you ever say I love you?"

Jayson snuck that last part in he had slip up during sex and said he loved her she didn't think anything of it because it was during sex but when he brought it up later she knew he was serious and she had hurt him. She ended up saying it a few weeks later when she was sure she meant it but it still hurt him not that he would ever say that out loud.

"I didn't send any pictures or videos .... Um and it shouldn't be any overly sexual stuff in there we would mostly talk in person our texts were just like plans" "what else I ask?" She sighed " no I didn't tell him I love him cause I didn't and I don't but I love the way you treat me and talk to me and work with me I love your hands and your smile .... I love you Jayson" she kissed his cheek softly "I'm being too hard on you for having a past ... and I'm sorry" "I feel like I keep hurting you cause I'm so damn damaged"

"nah you not hurting me I said we doing this together.....anything else I need to know?" She shook her head no "you sure?" "Well idk if this is important but remember I told you he came over here unexpectedly that one time?"

"Yeah" Jayson sits up listening intently "he basically was saying that you jumped into a relationship with me too fast and you're probably cheating .... And I think him saying that did effect me a little bit cause you're just too good to be true" "YN you acting like I haven't fucked up... we've argued I've said some hurtful shit I'm not perfect but I'm not cheating if I was gon cheat I would've just been single but I know this is where I'm supposed to be....

So don't let that shit effect you" she smiled

"I love you baby" she says softly he leans in to kiss her lips passionately "I love you too" he said quickly and then continued to kiss her she straddled his lap and his hands rest firmly on her ass. She moans when he squeezes it tightly. He pulls away slowly. "I love you .... A lot" her heart dropped she felt like he was about to say something crazy "I love you too" "but... I gotta be honest with you now that he single im a little worried about .... Us" "you don't have to be"

"but I am though and I hate to seem insecure and I get you was still trying to be cool with him but I don't even want him talking to you Fr but he don't owe me shit im asking you not to talk to him if you feel forced keep it short.... Can you do that for me?" "I wanna say yes...but if his life is in pieces right now me completely ghosting him will only make it worse" "what about my feelings though? I've been playing tug of war with him for you since I met you and he doesn't even have to pull that hard" she kissed his forehead and then his cheek.

"You're right and I'm sorry i won't talk to him and if he messages me then I'll let you know right away because at the end of the day my loyalty is to you I can't put his feelings over yours" he smiled "thank you baby" he pulls her in giving her a big hug. He started to kiss on her neck making her moan squeezing her butt again then she heard her doorbell causing both of them to glance at the door.

"You was expecting somebody?" He asked "noo so leave them out there I want you right now" he smiled kissing her again as it got heated. The person knocked on the door "yo YN answer the door we need to talk" and just like that his mood was ruined. He pushed her off of him. "Go to your room" Jayson said aggressively "you're not talking to Deuce and this is my house" "YN I'm asking you please just go" she stood up

"what are you gonna do?" "Tell him to leave you alone .... I'll be nice just go" she rolled her eyes but listened she was interested in what was gonna happen. YN pulled up her app to look at her front porch so she could see Melo. Jayson went to the door opening it

"yo she's sleep" Melos face dropped when he saw Jayson it was like he had seen a ghost.

"Well can you wake her up it's important" "nah man she's tired we been busy but you can tell me whatever you need to tell her though" "why you saying that? cause you know everything?" "Yeah I know it all so what is it" "Some of our messages leaked my girl did it I just wanted her to know it wasn't me and I'm trying to fix it" "alright I'll let her know.... You drove all the way over here to say that?" Melo smirked

"I think we both know that isn't all I wanted to say" "that's my girl now and I'm trying to be nice to you cause I told her I wouldn't hold nothing against you but you can't be poping up to her house no more like this your place it's rude she not gon fold so just hang it up" "you sure she not gon fold? It had to be a reason you didn't let her come to the door" "I don't tell her what to do we have conversations cause I care about her something you don't know about but I'm not about to go back and forth with you my guy she don't want you no more she's good we good" Melo laughed "alright man whatever you need to believe I'm gone..... tell her what I said man" Melo says walking away Jayson shut the door causing YN to come back into the living room.

"I'm gon ask you once and I'm going to believe you so tell me the truth" His voice was very deep and direct "okay" "have you fucked him since we been together? Did you fuck him when he pop up when we had first got together? And do you love him now?" "No no and no I wish it was something I can do or say to ease your Mind" "it's just weird how confident he is that you'll be back that bothers me" "you still want the truth?" "Yes I can handle it" "it's probably the sex .... I'm sure he feels like nobody can ever top him to me so he thinks I'll be back" "and will you?"

"I need more than sex to keep me around I need love and consistency care you do all that and you fuck me what I need any other man for I don't want nobody but you and I mean that" "I can't believe I'm even about to ask this right now but do I please you?" "Bae really?" "Yes I'm really asking when we fuck do you really enjoy it cause if not let's figure it out" "everytime we have sex I enjoy myself I don't have to fake anything with you it be real" "you sure?" "I mean I can show you....." she smirked he smiled walking over to her picking her up. "Yeah show me.... We not talking about that nigga no more" he kissed her taking her to her bedroom "mmmm good"

When they got to the room they stripped eachother quickly and then she got on her knees. He watched her she felt like he was staring through her it was so intense she slowly started to get his dick wet while stroking him she kissed the tip he licked his lips.

She enjoyed sucking his dick because she knew it was completely hers. She could get as nasty as she wanted because he was all hers no sharing no wondering if somebody else was just on it She gagged when his tip hit the back of her throat so she slowly pulled away licking her lips. "Do that shit again" he groaned "do what?" He smiled slightly "choke on it... choke on me again" she didn't speak she just did what he asked her to do slowly placing him in her mouth she allowed him to gag her repeatedly as he groaned she slowly pulled away while stroking him and sucking the tip.

"Fuckkkk" he groaned she loved the way he sounded he was always so mesmerized with whatever she was doing. Almost like he was appreciative and felt like she could be anywhere else but she was here pleasing him. She slapped herself in the face with it. "Damn that's how you feeling tonight?" He groaned she moaned taking him back in her mouth sucking him slowly keeping eye contact with him. "Fuck your mouth feel so good baby .... Just like that"

he loved when she moaned while sucking dick it made him feel like she was really enjoying it and she was. The level of wetness dripping from between her thighs should be a crime right now. He didn't wanna cum too early so it was time for her to stop he was rock hard now"Alright baby show me something else"

he gently pulled her head away and helped her stand up and then he got rough which completely shocked her he flipped her around making her face the wall as she braced herself he wet two fingers and reached in front of her inserting the two fingers inside of her and then started rubbing her clit she was already so wet he didn't know what to do his other hand was wrapped around her throat giving it a slight squeeze everytime she moaned. "It feelsssss so good" "shhh I just wanna hear your pussy"

she gasp and then bit her lip whatever he said she wanted to do her main goal was to please him coming in close second her other goal was to please herself. Her hips started to grind against his hand he placed his thumb in her mouth. She sucks softly as she feels herself getting closer. He listened to the smacking noise her other lips made. "You this wet for me? It's all for me?" "Alll for youuuu" "mmmm it better be" she gasp and grabbed his arm as she almost released. "Can I cum please?" She looked up into his eyes as he smiled at her. "Let me think a lil bit" "ughhhh" "I'm thinking shhhh" he liked to play with her because she always claims she like being teased and she really did it made everything that much more intense for her. "Ple—- plea—-ohhh" she couldn't even finish saying please that's how close she was.

"You wanna cum for daddy?" She nodded her head "and when you cum for daddy then what?" "Ohhhh mmmm I don't ...." "Hmmm you don't what?" Her legs started shaking heavily he smiled he had never got her this close before without letting her go he was kinda interested to see if she would blow. "Pleaseeeeeeee!!!! Pleaseeeeee mmmmm pleaseeee daddy pleaseeeee" "answer my question first" "whatever you want but please I'm so closeeee" her words fumbled out of her mouth he barley could make any sense of it

"go ahead baby cum for me cum for daddy" "thank you daddy" he felt his hand become even more wet as she released while sucking his thumb. "That's my good girl cum for daddy" "ughhhhh" that alone made her wanna do it again. When he felt like she was done he turned her around kissing her he moves her to the bed throwing her down. He leans over spreading her legs and then kissed her clit. "Tell me somethin babe?" "Hmm?" "Can I eat your pussy?" She shivered when the words came out of his mouth it sounded like a song to her she tried to gather herself to speak but couldn't which made him speak up again "please?"

He smiled kissing the inside of her thigh skipping over his main course going to the other thigh. She thrusted her hips up to meet his lips. "Jaysonn...." she whined "Hmmm I'm just trying to please my baby girl and she likes to be teased so tell me what I'm doing wrong?" He says as fingers slide inside of her again. "....nothing nothing at all" "so can I?" "Yesss I want you to"

He kissed her clit again licking up and down and she shivered. "I love you baby" she said softly. His fingers started to flick up inside of her roughly sucking her clit. She loved getting head from Jayson cause she could tell he cared he took his time and listened to her body she didn't have to communicate because he read her mind she loved it they were completely in sync.

He moaned as his tongue curled and licked all over her. "Ooooou baby right there" she was close and they both could feel it He forced one of her legs down because she started to suffocate him. Her back arched he pulled away making her whine missing him already. "No more teasing please .... I just want all of you" he smiled "so tell me what that means exactly" "I want you inside me Jayson" he kissed up her body engaging her in a long passionate tongue kiss. As she moaned completely read for him he finally slides inside of her they both gasp.

Yes he knew how wet she was but it felt different with his dick and he filled her up so snuggly it was so good to both of them.

"I love you too btw.... I didn't say back earlier but I do" he said while looking deeply in her eyes as he went stroked slowly inside of her. "I know" she grabbed his head kissing him. "I'm sorry for the stupid questions earlier .... I gotta just trust you" she gathered all her strength so she could talk to him clearly "it's not stupid they're real questions I get it's hard to trust people in your like of work you've seen everything" "you right but you different" "very" she smiled kissing him as his rhythm started to increase. "You feel so good" he groaned into her ear while pinning her arms down above her head she was speechless. "Say something baby....." He loved to make her talk when he knew she couldn't

"I—-" "you what?" "Can't..... you're so deep ughhhh" her legs started shaking he smirked he had already had her so close when he was eating her it's a surprise that she didn't cum as soon as he pushed inside of her. He watched her face as she licked and bit her lips to keep her cool but the noises always escaped from her mouth. She intertwines their fingers as her back arched. "I wanna cum with you can you wait for me?" She nodded her head "yessss" him cumming was very important to her he always went out of his way to give her at least two orgasms so she liked to make sure that he got one. As time went on his hips got sluggish. "Baby .... I can't ... pleaseee" he had finally pushed her to the point where she wasn't sure if she could wait for him. "Baby I'm almost there just look at me and wait" "mmmmmm babbyyyy" "ugh fuck what's my name" "daddyyyy" "good girl cum for daddy cum with daddy" "ughhhhhhh" he sucked on her neck as the released together. He continued stroking until it was nothing left inside of him and then he fell on top of her as they struggled to catch their breath. She held on to him playing in his curls. "You know me .... So well my body you just know me" she said softly she felt him smile.

These days she wasn't worried about it Jayson could compete with Melo in the bedroom because he definitely did he listened to her when she spoke about what she liked and disliked and he like to watch her really enjoy herself he wouldn't be able to enjoy sex if she wasn't getting pleased it if she wasn't into it. She was happy to call him her man.

Sooooo how y'all liking the book so far?

#lameloball #mistresstomrs #black girl stories #black writers #jayson tatum #support black writers #jayson #jaysontatumxreader #lamelo ball #lamelo #chapter nine

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redux-iterum · 1 year ago

Text

Charred Legacy: Chapter Nine

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Cloudkit!”

Fireheart, chewing on the last bite of his breakfast of robin, felt his eyes crease as he watched his nephew stomping after Bramblekit. Despite already being a good deal bigger than the ball of fluff, his brother was fleeing like there was a car barreling down on him, his back-fur flared up and his eyes bulging with fear. Brindleface was chasing them both, calling for Cloudkit to no avail.

“Cloudkit, I said leave him alone!” She reached out to try and scoop Cloudkit towards her and missed as he ducked his head just in time for her paw to sweep over him. “You’re being mean!”

“Am not!” Cloudkit shouted. “I’m being a badger!” He continued his pursuit, his paws raised almost as high as his head before being flung down to the ground, creating a small ripple of sand. “Badger! Badger!”

Bramblekit skittered away from him, looking around wildly for protection. His eyes caught Fireheart’s and he immediately scrambled over to him. Fireheart dutifully rose into a sit to let Bramblekit squish himself behind his front legs, pushing them out a little and making Fireheart bend forward.

“No fair!” Cloudkit protested, stomping all the way over to Fireheart. “He’s not playing!”

“Fireheart’s the safe spot,” Bramblekit said, much less confidently and much quieter than Cloudkit. “If I touch him, you can’t get me.”

Cloudkit frowned up at his uncle.

Fireheart held in a chuff and gently tapped Cloudkit’s nose with the very tip of his front paw. “Sorry, I don’t make the rules. I’m the safe spot.”

“Aw.” Cloudkit made a sullen face. “Then what do I do?”

“You play nicely, is what you do.” Brindleface caught up to him and pulled him to her, giving him a stern look when he flopped his head back with his nose in the air to see what had grabbed him. “If Bramblekit doesn’t want to be chased, you don’t chase him.”

Cloudkit’s scowl was admittedly pretty adorable with his scrunched-up ginger nose. He looked back at Fireheart, as if seeking confirmation.

“It is pretty mean to chase someone when they don’t like it,” Fireheart said.

The little scowl pointed to the ground now. Cloudkit scuffed some sand at his paws and muttered, “Was just playing.”

“You have plenty of others to play with,” Brindleface said, still stern. “Why don’t you go find your siblings, or Tawnykit?”

This received no response. Cloudkit just grumpily pulled himself out of her grasp and skulked off towards the nursery, where Ashkit and Aspenkit were just climbing out. They both met up with him, and Cloudkit’s attitude was completely forgotten when Ashkit tackled him with a squeaky yowl.

“I’m not sure what to do with his attitude sometimes,” Brindleface sighed, watching her kits tussle. “He gets so upset when I tell him he’s doing something wrong.”

Fireheart squinted unconsciously, studying his nephew at a distance. “I’ll keep that in mind when I mentor him. How far away is his ceremony, again?”

“Oh, four months, at least.” Brindleface immediately cheered up, her tail curling over her back. She looked down at Bramblekit and said sweetly, “And you’re not too far behind him!”

Bramblekit hesitantly wormed out from under Fireheart, his face brightening. “Really?”

“Really.” Brindleface ruffled the fur on the top of his head with a delicate paw as he approached her. “You’re going to be Bramblepaw before you know it. And you’ll have a much bigger den to sleep in.”

Bramblekit straightened up a bit and looked at Fireheart, who nodded enthusiastically. With a high, if muted purr, the brown tabby turned and trotted off towards his sister, who had just woken from her nap near the elders and greeted him with an indistinct sound. Fireheart beamed at their headbump, then looked back to Brindleface.

“I know it’s even further away, but I’m very excited to see what their names will be as warriors.” She lowered her voice, seemingly speaking to herself. “I wonder if Cloudkit will ask for another name…”

“Sorry?” Fireheart tilted his head. “Why another name?”

“Oh—” Brindleface blinked and returned her attention to him. “Well, ‘Cloud’ might not fit him forever. ‘Cloud’ is for white cats, and he’s getting more and more patched by the night. I’m curious if he’ll be renamed entirely when he becomes a warrior, or even an apprentice.”

“Huh,” Fireheart replied faintly. His mind flew to his sister, imagining her struggling to remember his many names. “I wonder now, too. That would be interesting to see. Does he have to do it?”

Brindleface shook her head. “Oh, no, of course not. It’s just an option.” Her eyes returned to Cloudkit, foggy with distant thoughts. “But what he could be named otherwise…”

The pair went silent for what Fireheart presumed was the same reason: contemplating what other names Cloudkit could have. Brindleface had a near dreamy look on her face, while Fireheart was sure he was squinting a bit, thinking hard.

What did Mira tell me about names? he pondered. She said Morning is for paler ginger cats, right? But he’s white, too. What was the one she said once…Tip? Was it Tip? But would Cloudkit want to be named for a bug? I guess he could go for Daisy, too, from what mira said. But then he’d have to be pale enough—

“Hey, Fireheart!”

The ginger tom blinked and was back in the real world. Greystripe and Ravenwing had just come into camp and were heading his way, a cheery little Snowpaw trotting along behind them. His pretty white coat was covered in soil, a few twigs clinging to his tail.

“What on earth happened?” Fireheart got to his feet and hurried to meet them. “Is he okay?”

“He’s excellent,” Ravenwing said—and for the first time Fireheart could remember, his chest was puffed out proudly. “He had hunting practice today.”

Fireheart’s ears perked. “Oh! Did he catch anything?”

“Not yet, but he’s a sneaky little bugger, I’ll tell you that.” Greystripe looked back at Snowpaw, giving him a joking tap on the head with his tail. “He’s going to go far when it snows.”

Ravenwing twitched his whiskers. “He chased after a woodrat and tried to get into its burrow.”

Fireheart snorted and looked at Snowpaw. Once the apprentice met his eyes, he cocked his head and said, “Did you have fun?”, taking care to move his mouth more than usual.

Snowpaw nodded vigorously, dirty tail jumping all over the place.

“He’s getting better at that, too,” Fireheart said to Ravenwing. “Any more signs tonight?”

“Just one.” Ravenwing turned to his apprentice and twitched his ears and jaw.

Snowpaw took a step closer, still looking at Fireheart, and then lowered his head while pushing it forward, eyes alert and ears slid sideways.

“That’s for ‘hunting crouch’,” Ravenwing explained. “I’m trying to separate fighting and hunting signs. I can already see he’s smart enough for that.”

Fireheart blinked twice and nodded—well done—at Snowpaw, who beamed and stood almost as straight as Thornpaw.

“Snowpaw!”

The boys flinched in surprise as Frostfur darted through the small space between them, rushing to her kit. She began plucking and brushing the soil off of him, her voice fretful. “He’s a mess! What happened?”

“He chased a woodrat?” Greystripe said, much less confident than Ravenwing and leaning back when Frostfur gave him a cross look.

Fireheart snorted (under his breath, wisely) and took a step back to give Frostfur more room. His back leg kicked into something that squawked; when he looked back, Tawnykit was behind him and scraping sand off her chest.

“Sorry, sorry—” Fireheart turned around immediately. “Are you alright?”

Tawnykit got the last grains off and gave him an expression oddly dry for just a kit. “You got me sandy.” She looked past him to Snowpaw. “Can he talk now?”

“In his own way,” said Fireheart, following her line of sight. “He and Ravenwing are making signs for him to speak with.”

“Oh.” Tawnykit tilted her head. “Can we speak too?”

“We can! We just have to learn how.” Fireheart gave her a gentle nudge with his paw. “I’m sure you could in no time at all.”

Tawnykit studied Snowpaw for a long moment, watching him sign at his mother as she pulled the twigs out of his tail. She finally deliberated, “I bet I can learn it first.”

“I bet so, too,” Fireheart said affectionately. “You know, you could talk with Ravenwing, and he can give you a head start. Then you could help teach the other kits. That would be cool, right?”

Tawnykit’s dull blue eyes lit up at this, and her growing tail did a curious up-and-down dance. “Yeah. Really cool.”

As they spoke, out of the corner of Fireheart’s eye, Cloudkit grappled with Ashkit in his grip, the two of them squealing. The ball of grey and white-and-ginger rolled a little too close to the meeting stump, where Yellowfang and Cinderpaw perched with their heads close together.

To Tawnykit, Fireheart said quickly, “Go on and ask Ravenwing about it,” and then hurried to catch the little toms before they hit the already cantankerous seer. “Cloudkit, Ashkit, hold on!”

The kits made it a few more rolls before Fireheart caught up to them. With a careful paw, he caught them and pushed them the other way, like they were a toy ball. They didn’t even appear to notice the redirection, nor did they notice when Brindleface caught sight of them and ran after them, calling for them to play nicely.

“Sorry about that,” Fireheart said, turning to Cinderpaw and Yellowfang. “They, uh…”

He trailed off when he got a good look at the seers’ eyes. They were faded and distant, not even focused on each other, though they were face-to-face. Yellowfang’s jaw was stuck out, but the few teeth that matched up to each other were tightly grit, and her torn ears were against her head. Cinderpaw did not look much better—her claws on all of her feet, even her bad one, were flexing in and out of her toes, and she was chattering her teeth ever-so-slightly.

“Uh…” Fireheart hesitated, not sure whether he should interrupt. “Are you okay?”

Yellowfang’s orange eyes sharpened again as she glanced his way.

“Sorry to interrupt, um… this.” Fireheart gestured vaguely with his paw. “Is something wrong?”

Yellowfang grunted. “We seek StarClan’s voice. The fool has seen something in her dreams.” She looked to her apprentice, who was stone still aside from her claws. “It troubles her still.”

“Can’t you help her?”

“Boy, if I help her with every sign, she learns nothing.” The old mess of dark fur snorted at him. “And I’ve my own visions to consider.”

Fireheart’s curiosity immediately got to his tongue before he could hold it. “Really? What did you see?”

“Ach. An easy and hard sign at once.” Yellowfang narrowed her buggy eyes. “Teeth and blood, I find. No secret that the dogs are about—I saw how long those fangs were.” She made a face. “But of course, the cursed stars say nothing on where they’ll strike next. I can make a guess, and that is all.”

Fireheart’s stomach clenched. “Where… where do you think they’ll be?”

“I heard the rush of water,” she replied, voice even darker than usual. “We may hear from RiverClan next.”

Fireheart’s fur lifted on his back. “We– we need to warn them, then.”

“Did.” Yellowfang sighed. “The deputy sent the quick one to their border tonight. But I know RiverClan, the airheaded poets. They’ll assume they’re safe since their land is so flat, and ‘they can see everything’.” She ground her teeth in a more tired than frustrated fashion. “It’ll take a loss for them to be serious for once. Mudcloud will be the one to heed the warning.” She shook her head and turned to her apprentice. “That is their trouble now. We’ve our own future to beware of.”

Fireheart copied her and regarded Cinderpaw. Her muscles were tensing up now, her tail tapping like she was having a bad dream.

“Cinderpaw?” Fireheart asked, then looked to Yellowfang. “Can I talk to her?”

Yellowfang squinted, then rolled a shoulder. “Wake her for a moment, and none more.”

With a bit of hesitation, Fireheart reached out with a paw and touched Cinderpaw’s shoulder.

Immediately, a shout of pain broke the peace of camp. Many eyes turned in surprise as Cinderpaw leapt away from Fireheart, hitting against the stump and panting in fear.

“Oh—” Fireheart backed up a bit. “I’m sorry, Cinderpaw. Are you okay?”

Yellowfang did not give her a chance to respond to him, nosing her apprentice. “What did you see?”

Cinderpaw’s terror passed within moments. She blinked a few times and then looked around in confusion, breathing normally again. “Oh. Wow. Okay.”

“What was it?” Yellowfang prodded her again. “Speak words.”

“Uh…” Cinderpaw tilted her head, then flicked her broken tail-tip against her shoulder, where Fireheart had touched her. “I was seeing something huge and loud, and it was really hot, and then it felt like the sun had burned my shoulder, and, uh…”

Yellowfang’s tail twitched, but she didn’t look angry. “Describe it better, fool girl.”

“Like—” Cinderpaw gestured aimlessly, then nodded to Fireheart. “Like your pelt, Fireheart, but bigger than a tree and wider than a house.” She grimaced. “And it was hotter than I think even Horoa is capable of. I could barely breathe.”

Fireheart met Yellowfang’s eyes, and her expression was pessimistic.

“And where were you when you saw it?” she asked.

Cinderpaw tilted her head back and forth indecisively. “Um… I don’t know, somewhere bright. The ground felt dry, but I couldn’t see anything in all that… bright stuff.” She fidgeted. “There was so much of it, Yellowfang! I couldn’t even hear anything, it was roaring so loud. Like a monster.”

Fireheart unconsciously narrowed his eyes as he thought. That sounds familiar…

Yellowfang croaked a grumble. “Follow, child. We discuss this privately.” She turned her wrinkled face to the cats who were still watching. “And you all, fuss not about this! Leave it to me and the girl.”

Immediately, everyone coincidentally found something else to be interested in, talking with each other or looking away at something much more fascinating than a potentially dangerous vision.

Fireheart watched the seers limp into the dying ferns that served as their den. He said nothing to anyone as he sat down and groomed his pelt, trying to think.

Like my pelt but bigger… he mused to himself. And hot. I could swear I’ve seen something like that before.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter nine #book three #arc one #charred legacy

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tumbleweed-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Death and the Lady: Chapter Nine. Chibs Telford X Reader

PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOUND HERE

TAG LIST: @youngadult9016 @mrsfilipchibstelford @mamawiggers1980 @ravennaortiz @liveinsteadofdreaming @redwoodmaya

Chapter warnings: NSFW. So, obviously 18+ Trigger warning for past mentions and descriptions of SA and very brief mention of death of a child.

------

Chapter Nine: Former Indiscretions

Ruby’s Diner was considered an establishment in Charming. It was located on Main Street and blue and white collar workers alike wandered in for a lunch break or the occasional cup of coffee and slice of pie; pies which were proudly declared as being made fresh daily.

Y/N had been to the diner many times before, usually growing up with her father. He would often take Daniel and her for a slice of cherry pie; her favorite though Daniel had never quite cared for it and had always requested banana cream instead.

The diner held those fond memories for her. However during her wild streak she could admit she had also once or twice entered the diner alone after a late night where she needed coffee and a greasy breakfast to recover from whatever trouble she’d found herself in the night before.

Today, she was forgoing the choice of greasy eggs and bacon slathered with hot sauce that she may have chosen as a remedy for a hangover back in her partying days. She was also sadly avoiding the cherry pie being a little more mindful of her waistline given the sweet danish she’d already eaten half of this morning.

A small side salad and a cup of the soup of the day, which was usually either chili or chicken noodle, was the lunch choice Y/N had chosen. She was thankful that today’s soup was chicken noodle. She wasn’t quite sure her stomach could handle chili at the moment given her nerves felt a little frazzled. To be honest, she found the diner’s chili to be pretty stomach turning even when her stomach felt its best.

She’d had another nightmare filled rest the night before. She had the slightest feeling that the tense lecture she’d received from Hale the week before had played a role in fueling the dreams. They’d become less frequent and she’d foolishly hoped that perhaps she was learning to cope a little better with her guilt over her new business relationship with SAMCRO.

The nightmare the night before had proven that she was not so lucky after all. A new nightmare scenario had joined the mix; Chibs holding her hand leading her off into the darkness of the night outside of her home, only for her to be yanked away by an ice cold hand. In the dreams Chibs willingly let her go, not even bothering to fight to protect her as she was dragged off screaming into the darkness. In fact, in these dreams Chibs actually smiled as she was drug away scared out of her mind.

Needless to say, after she’d woken from that nightmare she’d found herself downstairs in the basement doing inventory in the embalming room. It was a task she usually dreaded but she’d decided that the monotony of counting eye caps, gloves, face masks, and suture needles was better than attempting to fall back into a restful sleep that would most likely not come.

She guessed the sleepless night had been apparent on her face at work today because Old Charlie had insisted they were going out for lunch; his treat. She’d not had the heart to tell the old man no.

She cringed as Old Charlie spoke nodding his head towards her, studying her through the thick bifocals he wore. “You look rough, kiddo.”

“Awe, thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel special.” She snarked, taking a sip from her glass of Diet Coke, finding it easier to slip into sarcasm than admit her problems.

She had the slightest feeling Old Charlie would disapprove of her newfound business partnership with SAMCRO.

She had a feeling that the old man had not a clue about Skeeter’s past nor her current dubious dealings with the local MC. If he did, she had a distinct feeling she would have heard a mouthful from him about how awful it was. He was old school and very by the books when it came to the business. He was all about ethics. Skeeter and Y/N had maybe chosen a path of being ethically questionable to say the least.

She didn’t miss the look of disapproval he sent her in response to the snark and she had enough of a sense of shame to sink down in her seat under the aura of disapproval from a man who had always felt more like a surrogate grandfather than her father’s oldest business associate.

She was quite certain that Old Charlie had likely changed her diapers at least once when she’d been a baby, after all he’d been around long before she was even born. There were plenty of pictures, in the many photo albums her father collected, of Old Charlie holding her as a grouchy infant.

Y/N had not been closer with either set of her biological grandparents. Y/N’s paternal grandfather had died when her mother was pregnant with Y/N’s older brother so she had never known the man. Her paternal grandmother had died a few years before that. She knew Old Charlie had been a great comfort to her father after the loss of his parents. He’d been happy to step into the role of grandfather.

Y/N’s grandparents on her mother’s side had not been particularly close to her either, making Old Charlie all the more of a grandparent figure.

Her maternal grandmother had died when Y/N was ten but they’d never been close. Delilah Laurier had not exactly been thrilled that Y/N had been less ladylike than she would prefer. As much as Y/N enjoyed dresses now, she had little interest in them as a child. Her maternal grandmother had been less than enthused with Y/N’s tendency to wear her older brother’s old overalls and her interest in digging in the garden not minding the dirt or bugs.

Y/N’s maternal grandfather had died when she was seven. Y/N’s feelings towards the man were less familial. She’d had the feeling he’d not approved of her anymore than his wife had.

Her maternal grandfather had been a Baptist preacher and he’d been more fire and brimstone than love of the lord from what she remembered. Abraham Laurier had not been the type of grandfather who took Daniel and Y/N Y/L/N fishing or gave his grandchildren candy behind their parents back. His gifts had mostly consisted of bibles and harsh lectures about the end of times. He had strict expectations about proper behavior that Daniel and Y/N had been all too happy to push past.

Abraham Laurier had not been the most cuddly individual especially after his only child had died; grief did strange things to people.

He’d disapproved of Y/N’s father and his lack of what Abraham viewed as religious devotion.

Abraham had been none too happy that Lloyd Y/L/N had little interest in raising his children in the Baptist church. Lloyd’s wife Caroline, had always been the one who found comfort in faith after all.

Y/N had always wondered if her father had believed at any point. She didn’t see her mother, or at least what she’d heard about her, as being the type that would accept a lack of faith in a life partner. At times Y/N had wondered if her father had just run out of faith…perhaps his wife dying so suddenly had been enough of a sign, that if there was a God, he hadn’t cared too deeply about Caroline’s devotion to him.

Y/N found that she tended to lean more towards her father’s view on faith. She’d observed and learned enough about theology at least through the observance of funerals.

She could admit she found herself feeling somewhat envious of those who found comfort in the promise of a caring lord and the peace of an afterlife. It sounded nice to her, to have that kind of hope.

Her feelings about the entire God and the afterlife thing tended to be a little more pessimistic.

She’d once heard the afterlife, described in a funeral, as a chance to sit with the Lord in praise of him for all eternity. As awful as she knew the thought was, she couldn’t help but to think a life spent praising some almighty being sounded like a dreadfully dull way to spend an eternity. She saw so much loss and death in her day to day work life that she couldn’t help but to shake the thought that if there was some almighty all knowing God that he might feel indifferent towards his creation. After all, how else did someone explain all the pain in the world?

After Daniel’s accident she’d felt even more certain of God’s indifference.

She’d always summed up her views as being agnostic at best. From her observations the Baptists hated Catholics, the Catholics hated the Protestants and the feeling was mutual, and no one really cared about the Methodists. Overall, organized religion felt like one big means to control people and an excuse to argue over who was right and who was wrong.

She knew enough of course to keep her opinions about faith to herself. She knew well enough to know that no one would be amused nor comforted by the local funeral director’s warped and jaded opinions on God, organized religion, and the afterlife.

It was easier to just smile and nod at mentions of God being good and a better place up in the sky, than to admit that thinking of God just made her feel tired and angry.

Y/N let out a heavy sigh realizing that Old Charlie wasn’t going to allow her to escape any avoidance of what had her looking this worn.

The man spoke a sigh leaving him. “You look exhausted. I found you counting dental simulators and trocar buttons at six am this morning. I know you, Sunshine. You never have been an early bird, at least willingly. You hate doing inventory and always shove the job on Skeeter. You didn’t sleep last night from the looks of it.”

She sighed studying the man hating that he knew her so well. She shook her head ever so slightly at the moniker Sunshine. He’d given it to her on a count of her being quite the grouchy baby and toddler. She’d always been too serious, he claimed. So the Sunshine nickname had started and stuck even into adulthood.

Charles Olsen had been in the funeral business for decades. Even though he should probably be down in Florida somewhere fishing and enjoying the final years of his life, he remained here in Charming by her side. He was close to seventy now and his hair was stark white as snow and thinning. His nose was sharp and narrow making the rest of his frame seem all the thinner.

Even with the narrow frame he managed to pack a slight pudge to his belly due to his poor diet. His eyes had always been bad, meaning he’d worn glasses for years but they’d gotten thicker as he aged. His eyes were a pleasant hazel that she’d always felt were lovely even behind the thick lenses of his glasses. He boasted that he’d been an attractive man when he was younger but he’d not always taken care of himself leading to painful arthritis and one heart attack under his belt. He was always impeccably dressed even when he wasn’t wearing the black suits he reserved for funeral services. He preferred to look like a gentleman he claimed which meant ironed dark slacks, stiff starched button down shirts, and shiny shoes.

He had no family left as far as she knew; no children and two ex-wives who he spoke of either fondly or with disdain depending on his mood.

Y/N had realized long ago that she was the only sense of family he had left in this world.

She spoke knowing her response wasn’t entirely a lie “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…probably just too many Diet Cokes too late in the day…and that last funeral…it was just a lot. Kids are always rough.”

Old Charlie was quick to speak after a sip from his own soda. “Damn SIDS…You did good with it though, Sunshine. You gave those parents the last best memory you could. Focus on the fact that you gave them some comfort while they had to say goodbye.”

She cringed, not wanting to allow her mind to focus on just how little the casket had been and how young and devastated the bereaved parents had seemed. The old saying that the smallest caskets were always the heaviest really was true.

She cringed all the more as Old Charlie spoke again. “Your dad would be so proud of the woman you’ve become. He’d be proud that you seem to have accepted that you’ve always had a knack for this line of work. He would be so proud of how you’ve taken over the business and kept it together even with the debt he left behind.”

Y/N bit down on the inside of her cheek struggling not to argue that if Old Charlie knew what she knew about the woman she’d become and how she’d run the funeral home, then his opinion would not be as kind.

A voice taunted her in the back of her mind snarking that her father would hate her for what she’d done to soil their sacred profession. He’d hate her for selling her conscience, access to the dead, and access to the cremator in exchange for money. He would hate that she’d gotten herself so involved with SAMCRO. He would hate that she was once again falling back into that world slowly but surely. He would more than likely despise Chibs for leading her back into that world. She had a distinct feeling her father would not be thrilled that the Scottish Son was so interested in her.

She took a deep breath trying her best to change the subject not wanting to discuss her father’s pride in her. She found the perfect way to change the subject as she nodded down to the cheeseburger on Old Charlie’s plate. “Pretty sure that burger wasn’t on the new diet your doctor gave you. Burgers and fries aren’t going to help that high cholesterol.”

“You sound like my ex wife.” Old Charlie snarked, not hesitating to take another bite from the greasy burger.

“Which one? If I sound like Vera I’d be yelling at you about alimony and if I sound like Anya I’d just be yelling at you in Russian about…whatever the hell she used to scream about. I never did pick up much Russian from her that was polite enough to repeat.” Y/N remarked thinking of the two previous wives of her surrogate grandfather.

Vera was the less pleasant of the two; a stern and vain woman who was always a little too focused on where her next payout was going to come from. Y/N could remember thinking that Vera was disappointed to find out that the funeral director she’d married had not been as wealthy as she’d hoped.

Anya was the preferable ex wife in Y/N’s opinion though she was just as stern as Vera. Anya at least seemed like she was less worried about being as prim as Vera. She had a mouth on her from what Y/N remembered. Y/N was quite sure she’d learned how to say dumbass in Russian from Anya, tupitsa, from how much she’d grumbled the word in Old Charlie’s general direction. Anya had been significantly younger than Old Charlie and Y/N had at times wondered if the marriage had been more of a green card thing than a love connection. Anya was temperamental and foul-mouthed but she’d at least looked upon Y/N with some fondness judging by the borscht she’d constantly made for Y/N each time she’d visited.

“Fair point…hope you remember some of that Russian. You’re going to need it when it comes to that Scottish boy that’s been hanging around you.” Old Charlie remarked the comment putting a slight smirk on Y/N’s features.

The concept of him referring to Chibs as a boy was humorous. She guessed though, at Old Charlie’s age that most men seemed like boys to him.

“I think he’s fine with me yelling at him in English. He seems to get the message without me needing the Russian.” Y/N pointed out taking a sip from her soda.

Old Charlie peered up at her through his glasses, a hint of worry hanging in his voice. “Is he fine with that smart mouth you’ve always had? Boy looks like the type that doesn’t take too kindly to a lady getting mouthy with him? He seems like the rough type and you hear the rumors around town about him and the whispers about the crowd he runs around with. I’m old enough to remember when SAMCRO first rolled into Charming.”

She cringed, guessing that Old Charlie had a point concerning Chibs’ appearance. She knew rough was the most polite way to describe it. She was well aware of Chibs' ability to be intimidating. She’d noticed the nervous glances he attracted the few times they’d gone on dates. She thought back to what Hale had to say about the rumors surrounding Chibs. If anyone knew those rumors had some truth to them she had a feeling Chibs would be chased out of town.

She cringed even more knowing Old Charlie was smart enough to suspect what most people suspected about SAMCRO. She’d always just thought of the MC as being an accepted part of her hometown. They kept up the guise of doing favors for local businesses keeping any corporate representatives out of town by whatever means were necessary. The idea was that they kept Charming charming. Despite the trouble they may have earned a reputation for, people saw them as a necessary evil when it came to keeping local businesses small.

She gave Old Charlie a calm reassuring smile. “He doesn’t seem to mind my mouth. He seems more amused by my snark than anything. I think he can take it. As for the roughness, he’s a little softer than he looks. You have nothing to worry about, the rumors are just rumors.”

“So, he’s good to you? Treating you right?” Old Charlie dared to ask, taking another bite of his burger, chewing it slowly, his gaze not leaving her clearly searching for any sign of deception.

She sighed, not shocked by the question. She had a feeling Old Charlie had remembered her past interactions with members of SAMCRO and the obvious hints that she had not always been treated right. He most likely had a reason to fear history would repeat itself. “He treats me like a princess.”

She spoke again not helping but to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “No matter how well he treats me, I can’t say my father would be entirely too pleased if he was still around to see my choice in a romantic partner. Pretty sure he’d be none too thrilled to see me interacting with anyone in the MC again. The age difference would make him nervous all on its own, but add a kutte to the mix and I’m sure my dad would be asking fewer questions and just jumping straight into going after my Scottish admirer with a baseball bat right about now.”

Old Charlie shrugged his shoulders quick to respond. “Probably wouldn’t be thrilled. Think he’d realize you’re a grown woman though. He knew you enough to know you’ve always had a stubborn streak a mile wide.”

“A stubborn streak that made me his biggest embarrassment for a few years there.” She remarked remembering her past antics and the look of fear mixed with annoyance on her father’s face when he had to bail her out of whatever mess she’d made.

Old Charlie was fast to reply to this comment, his voice holding a tone of firm disapproval at her comment. “Hey, he was never disappointed in you.”

He paused, taking a deep breath before he chewed another bite of his burger. “You just scared him. Your dad’s work meant he had to face a lot of reminders of the fragility of life. It troubled him to know you were determined to flirt with death…especially after Danny.”

She cringed at the mention of her brother and how his rebellious phase had led him to being institutionalized out in Lodi.

She didn’t have much of a chance to focus on the thought as Old Charlie spoke again. “Your father loved you, no matter what you did, no matter how big of a mess you made…that love didn’t go away. He didn’t care how many times he had to bail you out of jail or how many times you wandered home after doing something less than proper for a girl your age. There was no shame when he thought of you. You gave him some sleepless nights and he wasn’t fond of the men you were running around with…but he didn’t view you as a burden. I won’t lie…I did have to talk him out of going down to that clubhouse and dragging you out more times than I can count…had to remind him you were over eighteen and weren’t going to stop the path you were determined to go down unless it was your own idea. When you were ready to get off that path, he was there wasn’t he?”

“Yeah…yeah he was there.” She remarked, soaking in the words unsure if she believed that her father hadn’t at least once thought of her as being a worrisome burden that embarrassed the hell out of him.

Back then, she’d gotten accustomed to people she knew outside of the MC becoming nervous when they thought about her.

She spoke again, a hint of dread hanging in her words as she voiced her innermost thoughts out loud. “What path am I down now though?”

Old Charlie shrugged his shoulders, not hesitating to reply. “The path of your choosing. As far as I see it, you aren’t in handcuffs at least once a month, so that’s an improvement. You grew up and stopped excelling at not giving a shit. I don’t see you falling back into any old habits with the Sons of Anarchy.”

“Even with the Scottish boy.” She remarked referring to Chibs the same way Old Charlie had previously done.

“Can’t say I’m too thrilled with the reaper on the boy’s back, but you’re a grown woman. As long as you’re not bullshitting me about him treating you right, then I don’t think you’re going to repeat history. If he pulls anything with you though, just know the reaper on his back isn’t going to protect him from me, arthritic knees won’t stop me from getting out that baseball bat you mentioned” Old Charlie remarked she smirking ever so slightly having no doubt he meant business with the threat.

She didn’t have a chance to focus on the comment as the very Scottish boy they’d just been discussing entered the diner quickly spotting her.

Chibs spoke, making his way over to the table. “Hen, stopped by the home to take ya ta lunch, but Skeeter told me ya already had a lunch date. Tol’ me where ta find ya. Came to steal ya away fer a wee bit.”

Old Charlie raised an eyebrow at the comment, turning his gaze from Chibs to Y/N as he spoke, commenting on the younger man’s thick brogue. “Do you understand a word he says?”

She smirked not minding the goading comment; she only hoped Chibs wouldn’t take it as an attempt to be genuinely insulting. “No, not really. I’ve learned to just watch his facial cues and play it as I go.”

Chibs proved to take the comment in good humor, leaning down pressing a fond kiss to Y/N’s temple. “Funny, lass.”

She let out a soft sigh glancing up at the Scottish Son as she spoke. “Why am I being stolen away?”

Chibs quickly interpreted the look of trepidation on her face interpreting it as worry she was being whisked away to do some sudden favor for the club. “Jus’ wanted to see ya on my lunch break, Love.”

“Okay, I think I’ve finished my food anyhow.” She stated reaching for her purse ready to pay her portion of the bill.

Chibs took her by shock, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out his wallet by the wallet chain. He tossed down a bill that was probably a little too large for the diner bill they were expecting as he spoke. “Lunch is on me, Hen.”

He paused nodding down to Old Charlie. “Let the waitress have whatever remains as a tip, aye?”

She sighed giving a quick glance at Old Charlie not able to read his expression. She only hoped he didn’t interpret Chibs’ action and comment as an attempt to emasculate him.

She knew enough about men to realize their strange desire to keep up a sense of pride was often viewed as being far more important than it should be. In her experience, men Old Charlie’s age could particularly hold some pretty annoying views about male pride.

She just hoped that perhaps Old Charlie had seen the act as an attempt to be a gentleman by Chibs by paying for the meal and leaving a large tip as a way to make up for stealing Y/N away.

She didn’t have much time to focus on the thought as Chibs took her hand in his eagerly pulling her from the booth, barely giving her the time to send Old Charlie a wave.

She just had to hope that her surrogate grandfather had not changed his opinion on Chibs based off of the interrupted lunch date.

—-------

Y/N raised an eyebrow as Chibs and she sat out on a bench not far from the diner, the warm sun feeling nice especially given she felt quite exhausted and a little sore after her late night.

She spoke staring down at the cherry snow cone she was holding her voice soft. “So, you stole me away for snow cones?”

“I stole ya ‘way to spend an afternoon with ya, the snow cones are jus’ a bonus. Figured we’d hit up the ice cream truck since ya already had lunch.” Chibs stated matter of factly taking a bite of his own grape snow cone.

She sighed, having to think that the sight must look odd. The outlaw biker and a woman wearing an inky black professional looking dress sitting side by side on a bench in front of a pharmacy and a tailor eating snow cones.

If anyone had told her a few years ago that one day she’d find herself eating snow cones with a member of SAMCRO, she’d probably be more than a little confused. She’d actually probably be more worried than confused if they’d added on the fact that she would be dating that member of SAMCRO.

She continued to stare down at her snow cone, the conversation she’d had with Old Charlie about Chibs still running through her mind.

She’d simply referred to Chibs as her admirer and the boy…but in all actuality she guessed he might be considered her boyfriend. The word seemed a little juvenile for the intimidating looking biker sitting at her side though, even if he was currently holding a bright purple snow cone in his hand.

She thought back to the two conversations she’d had with Gemma and the insinuation that she might be considered being on her way to being Chibs’ ol lady. The thought both troubled her and filled her with a sense of something she couldn’t quite place…pride…adoration?

She let out a soft sigh knowing that placing a label on a relationship was hard enough as it was…add on the unconventional world Chibs lived in and the strange way their relationship had started, then it only made things feel more complex.

Chibs glanced over at her hearing the sigh no matter how soft it was. “Ya look tired, Hen.”

She let out a tired laugh shaking her head, finding it once again easier to sink into sarcasm. “You Scots really know how to flatter a lady.”

He shook his head quick to respond. “Aye, I do…honestly though, love. Ya look knackered…Hale ain’ been givin’ ya shite again has he?”

She felt a slight smile cross her lips at the hint of defensiveness in his voice at the mention of the Deputy. She couldn’t help but to enjoy the protective tone his voice had taken. “Nope, not a peep out of him. I’ve just…not been sleeping well lately…work and…life.”

Chibs frowned, interpreting that part of her mention of work and life contained the favors she’d done for SAMCRO and the stress of dealing with Hale’s questions over just how involved she may have been in those empty graves.

“Maybe ya jus need a distraction, Hen…get outta the house and get out some of that stress.” He offered hoping this was the best way to ease into a question that had been dancing around in the back of his head all week.

She sighed, shaking her head trying to hide that she feared she wasn’t sure any distraction could help the guilt always creeping in the back of her mind. “Maybe. Why are you offering to provide a distraction?”

He gave her a crooked grin and quickly replied. “I am…I actually got a favor of sorts to ask of ya.”

She sighed a hint of bitterness seeping into her words. “Because past requests for favors have been so relaxing.”

She paused, spotting the heavy sigh he gave her in response. “Sorry…not trying to be a bitch…I mean…I offered to do the second favor for you guys. I don’t have much room to complain. I opened the door for future favors.”

He placed a hand on her knee giving her skin a soft stroke with the pad of his thumb as he spoke. “Don’ call yerself that, lass. And this ain’ no club favor. Jus’ somethin’ that’ll be more of a personal favor for me.”

She gave him a small smile, tempted to point out that she had been called far worse than a bitch, but she held it in having the feeling he would not be amused.

“Okay, what’s this personal favor?”

He gave her a small smile in return fast to speak his voice, holding the energy of boylike enthusiasm. “The prospect is competin’ Saturday nigh’ in a bare-knuckle boxin’ fight. I’ve been coaching him all week out at the boxin’ ring at the clubhouse. I used to box both in the more traditional sense and with street fightin’. Even before SAMBEL I was good in the ring. I was damn good. My sister Cait…she use ta scold me fer all the scraps I’d get in as a lad. Bout gave our poor Ma a heart attack with as many black eyes and busted lips I wandered into the flat with at night. Course if my ma was still alive to see jus’ how many scraps I get in nowadays she’d be jus’ beside herself. She worried bout me ya know…I was the wee baby boy of the family…the only boy in the family after my da ran off. I was always too skinny but too hot headed to avoid gettin into fights with bigger lads, in my youth. Gave my poor ma alot to worry bout with all the trouble I got in.”

She felt a small smile cross her lips despite her confusion over what this had to do with any favors he was asking of her. She had found that she liked hearing about his family though she always got the feeling that there was a sense of sadness under the surface when he mentioned them no matter how happy the stories were.

Chibs spoke again, clearing his throat as he realized he’d gone on a small tangent about his past boxing history as well as his scrappier youth. “SAMCRO is throwin a big fight out at the fairgrounds. There’s a few fighters but Half-Sack is enterin. The fight’s gonna be a big deal. Gettin it sponsored by both TM Auto and Lumpy Fledstein’s Gym.”

She raised an eyebrow struggling to understand what any of this had to do with her. She felt her stomach drop as the explanation left Chibs’ lips. “I want ya to come watch.”

“You want me to come watch a bare-knuckle boxing match…a boxing match that is essentially being hosted by SAMCRO?” She questioned not entirely caring if the displeasure was evident in her voice.

Chibs cringed knowing he shouldn’t’ be shocked by the distaste on her tongue. He sighed knowing her past with SAMCRO was not entirely something she found comfort in. Her past interactions with the club had been strictly doing favors at the funeral home and the city crematorium. It had always been on her turf. This interaction would be more of a social setting. “Aye…I know it ain’ the most romantic offer…I can’t promise some of SAMCRO won’t be there…and a few other charters too.”

She sighed not looking forward to being around that many Sons all at once.

Chibs spoke again, apparently sensing her hesitation. He gave her knee another caress as he spoke. “It ain’ a Friday nigh’ party, Hen. Nothin’ too crazy is goin’ to be happenin’. Jus’ a boxing match where I’m coaching the prospect.”

She furrowed her brow, tempted to ask him why it was so important that she attend then. After all, wouldn't he be busy coaching his prospect? Was she expected to just sit by and watch him coach? It didn’t seem like they’d be spending much time with one another if he were to be coaching and she was to be in the audience.

Chibs kept his hand placed over her knee caressing the soft skin. He let out a soft sigh, deciding to just be honest. “I’m havin’ a lot of fun with ya, lass. I’m enjoyin’ seein’ where this goes with us…I jus’ I don’ want what we got buildin’ together to have to be separate from what I’m doin’ with the club…keepin’ those worlds separate doesn’t work, Love. Like I said, this ain’ no Friday night party, so nothin’ intense bout it…It’s jus’ a chance fer me to have my ol…the lass I’m crazy bout be a part of my world with SAMCRO...it’s a safe environment fer ya to be brough’ in as someone who means a hell of a lot to me. I wan’ my brothers to see what ya mean to me. I don’ want them to just see ya as our asset fer favors…I want em to see ya as my lass.”

She widened her eyes, spotting the words that had almost slipped from his lips before he’d caught himself: my ol lady.

She shoved those complicated feelings that the title gave her, focusing on the rest of his statement.

She hated to admit he had a point. A world built with her and the world he had within SAMCRO couldn’t exist independently. The two worlds would have to coexist at some point.

Keeping those two parts of his life separate from one another would only end in frustration and heartbreak. She knew that at some point when it came to him she would have to be all in or all out. Accepting SAMCRO was part of having him.

She knew he had a point about the event he was inviting her to being on far more neutral grounds than a Friday night party at the clubhouse.

The fairgrounds wouldn’t be SAMCRO’s clubhouse…even if a few members of SAMCRO and any possible other charters might be milling around those fairgrounds.

She felt her stomach turn at the concept of being a part of his world with SAMCRO. Didn’t she escape that world? Didn’t that world scare the hell out of her?

A little voice in the back of her head was quick to speak up though, maybe it would be different with Chibs? Maybe experiencing that world by his side would be different than what she’d experienced with anyone else.

She was no longer using that world to avoid pain after all…she would be entering the world because Chibs wanted her to be a part of it.

That voice pointed out that he simply wanted all of the people he cared about to spend time with one another.

She took a deep breath hoping she wouldn’t regret any of this. “Okay, I’ll come.”

The smile he gave her made the anxieties she felt bubbling up in her fade. The press of his lips to hers made them seem all the more far away.

She returned the kiss not helping but to think he tasted like the sweet grape snow cone he’d been eating and a cozy sense of comfort even with as drained as she felt from her sleepless night.

She thought of the nightmare version of him; the one who smiled as she was being drug away screaming.

She had a distinct feeling that that version of him that her guilt-ridden brain had concocted was not a thing like the man sitting here with his lips pressed to hers.

She was overcome with the feeling that she’d be just fine at the fairgrounds. Real life Chibs Telford was most likely not going to stand by smiling if anyone laid a finger on her.

—------------------------------------

Y/N had been surprised that Juice had quickly linked an arm with hers as soon as Chibs and she dismounted his bike at the fairgrounds.

She had a distinct feeling that Chibs’ comment that Juice was going to find her a good seat had to do less with her boyfriend worrying about her view of the boxing ring and more to do with him maybe wanting the younger Son to play bodyguard.

A part of her wanted to be annoyed by the entire concept. It felt a little too much like Chibs was sticking Juice on her hoping the younger man would keep any men far from Chibs’ property.

She had wanted to view the SAMCRO escort as a sign of distrust from Chibs. Once the thought had passed though she’d realized that this was less him not trusting her around other men and more him wanting to make sure she felt comfortable in an environment she’d not been entirely enthused to be in.

She realized after the irritation had passed, that Chibs had recognized her hesitance about tonight. He understood she was stepping out of her comfort zone to attempt to be a part of his world. So, he’d most likely figured keeping a trusted brother close by would ease her anxiety. It helped that he had chosen a brother, who along with the prospect, was a little freaked out about her career. She had a feeling given the fact that her job intimidated Juice, Chibs had viewed him as someone who would be respectful of her.

She cringed sitting by Juice on the hard metal benches, the scene playing out in front of them far too bloody and violent. The crowd around her seemed far more entertained, than Y/N, by the men beating one another to a bloody pulp in the ring.

She shook her head, spotting Chibs standing ringside beside Bobby and Tig. He seemed just as delighted by the bloodshed. He cheered the prospect on occasionally stopping to shout out orders and encouragements. He wore a towel around his shoulders that he occasionally used to wipe at Half Sack’s face wiping blood and sweat from the younger man’s features.

She sighed not quite getting the appeal of any of this. She would be tempted to claim that enjoyment of this must just be some male thing that she didn’t quite get, but there were a few women in the stands that seemed just as thrilled with the scene playing out in the boxing ring.

The girl sitting beside her seemed to be having a great time and eagerly called out her support for Half Sack in a voice that could only be described as containing a bit of a dazed raspy sounding vocal fry.

Juice leaned over to Y/N nodding at the girl sitting beside them. “Cherry, she’s Half-Sack’s…uh, prospective ol’ lady.”

Y/N glanced over at the girl taking note of her. She was a petite girl with dark hair and an energy that read she was comfortable in the world of Motorcycle clubs. Y/N spotted a tattoo on the girl’s arm though it was too dark to make out what it was. She seemed at ease and not at all cold in the cool night air wearing a tight tank top and tiny shorts. Y/N had to wonder if Cherry was her real name…she had a feeling it was not. Cherry had only addressed her briefly as Juice and Y/N had sat down.

Y/N tried not to focus on the young woman beside her though judging by Juice’s hesitance in describing what Cherry was to Half Sack, Y/N had a feeling that there was a story there.

Y/N tried to focus on the boxing match but she could admit she was not having the time of her life. She’d never cared much for boxing and this was far from the more uniform version of the sport. This was full on brawling.

Juice glanced over at her, the younger man daring to speak as he spotted Y/N’s grimace at the sight of Half-Sack’s opponent’s bloody nose. “You don’t like blood?”

“I don’t mind blood…I probably see more blood than any of you boys see on a daily basis…I’m just not entirely fond of watching people beat the crap out of one another…Don’t get the appeal.” She commented, the statement about seeing blood making Juice pale just the slightest.

Juice spoke daring to ask his mouth moving before his mind had a chance to tell him to shut up. “Something I’ve been wondering about your job…where does the blood go? I mean when you…you know, prep a body…you get rid of the blood right? Where do you put the blood? Do you drain it all and then pump em full of chemicals or what? What if their veins are all fucked up?”

She sighed, debating if she should be honest. “You won’t like the answer.”

Juice furrowed his brow daring to respond though he had a feeling he might regret it. “Try me.”

She shook her head rattling the small bag of popcorn Juice had insisted on buying her. “Embalming fluid enters through the carotid artery while blood drains from a drainage vein, usually the jugular vein. You pump and drain at the same time. The blood runs down the table and It goes down the drain into our city’s lovely sewage system. If the veins aren’t great you have to get creative with the drainage and entry points, or try to explain to the family that a traditional embalming might not be the best choice for their loved one.”

Juice frowned a look of disgust crossing his features as he stared down into his cup of beer. “Seriously? Gross.”

She smiled, shaking her head once again pointing out something he didn’t consider and not helping but to make him squirm. “It's the sewer. Think about what other gross stuff winds up down there. That’s why we have water treatment plants. If you want to hear gross I can tell you about cavity embalming and the places I’ve had to stuff cotton pads to stop leaking.”

Juice groaned glaring down at his beer, absolutely losing his desire to drink it. “Please don’t.”

She let out a soft sigh shaking her head not helping but to tease. “Hey, you asked. If you don’t like the answers to your questions then maybe you should stop asking them.”

Juice shuddered at the comment and the glee Y/N seemed to exhibit at his reaction. She was definitely spooky.

If he didn’t love Chibs he would have found a way to escape this conversation. When Chibs had asked him to keep Y/N company, Juice had agreed. It was clear that Y/N was becoming a fixture in the Scot’s life and Juice had noticed a positive improvement to Chibs’ mood.

The Scotman seemed a little lighter and a little more prone to smiling. Juice had the distinct feeling that Y/N was the source of the lighter mood in his brother.

Y/N didn’t have long to feel like she’d gained the upper hand in her interactions with Juice as a familiar face from the past approached the stands nodding down at her. “Y/N. Chibs mentioned he’d invited you.”

She gazed up at SAMCRO’s club President, a prominent sense of discomfort washing over her.

Though Clay Morrow was capable of smiling and putting on the guise of charm, she had a feeling that he could be ruthless and dangerous if he wanted to be. He was much like Gemma in those regards. She guessed it made sense how they’d wound up together. They truly were two ruthless peas in a pod.

He spoke again, not giving her much of an opportunity to reply to his prior statement. “I do appreciate the working relationship you’ve been so open to developing with SAMCRO. You’ve been a great help.”

She shifted in place glancing around her almost certain someone would pop out from some corner and declare that they knew all about her deeds for SAMCRO. Of course, this didn’t happen.

No one seemed to care about this current conversation. She swallowed the lump in her throat fast to speak. “I am…happy you’re satisfied with the job I’ve been doing.”

“I am satisfied, Guess Chibby is a little more than satisfied by you though.” Clay remarked her stomach turning at the innuendo behind the words.

She bit her tongue, stopping herself from spitting back some smart remark. Clay seemed to have taken notice of the hint of spite dancing behind her gaze as he spoke again. “I’m not displeased by it. You’re good for him and you’ve been just as good for SAMCRO. You keep being good to both and we’re going to be just fine.”

She shifted in place taking a deep breath hating how small she felt under his gaze. She was reminded of how she felt around him back when she’d still been a club hangaround.

Clay had thankfully shown her no interest but she’d always had the feeling that she was only tolerated at the clubhouse because Jax had wanted her there and Clay didn’t want to press the issue.

She had a feeling that Clay was simply tolerating her once again. A voice in the back of her mind told her that if she ever proved to be no longer useful to the club, that Clay wouldn’t hesitate to be less tolerant.

She spoke, forcing the words from her lips. “Filip means a lot to me. I’m capable of mixing business with personal without it being a problem for either.”

“Good to hear.” Clay remarked she not missing the raised eyebrow at the use of Chibs’ real name.

She took a deep breath, the sense of dread dying down a little bit as Clay took a seat between Cherry and her, the older man seeming to be satisfied with whatever he’d been searching for with this interaction.

She turned her attention back to the fight, doing all she could not to eavesdrop on the conversation that had struck up between Clay and Cherry.

She didn’t miss the joyful squeal that left Cherry. Y/N turned to see the younger woman hugging Clay.

She apparently wasn’t the only one who took notice of it though. Half Sack apparently spotted it, the sight spurring something in him that pushed him to fight all the harder.

Half Sack managed to use whatever inner turmoil the sight of Cherry hugging Clay set in him, using it to punch all the harder delivering a knockout punch to his opponent.

Although the crowd went wild with the action she spotted the looks on the faces of her companions.

She had a feeling that judging by their reaction Half Sack was not meant to be tonight’s victor.

She shared a small glance with Juice, both looking at a displeased looking Chibs, it feeling all the more apparent that Half Sack had just done something quite dumb by winning the fight.

==================================

Y/N managed to pull herself from her bodyguard. She was relieved that Juice seemed to be eager to be pulled away to confront Half Sack with Clay.

She had quickly found that she could use the excuse that she was going to the bathroom to be all the reason Juice had needed to part from her.

She did feel somewhat guilty to be so brutally honest with Juice over the details of her job, but to be fair he had asked her. She wasn’t going to lie to him and sugarcoat any of it.

She would be lying if she tried to pretend she hadn’t felt some satisfaction in making him squirm. She knew that making people uncomfortable with her job was a defense mechanism that she was always too eager to rely on. She had a tendency to want to scare people before they got too damn close.

She found the fairgrounds to be a little too crowded for comfort. She didn’t enjoy how the air smelled like stale beer and cigarettes. It was a little too reminiscent of the scents she used to take in at the Sons Clubhouse almost ten years ago.

The smell made her stomach turn and gave her the slightest headache.

She managed to use one of the porta potties out of desperation; she was thankful she carried hand sanitizer in her purse given the lack of sinks around to take care of avoiding germs.

She made her way through the crowd determined to get back to Chibs. She had to hope that perhaps she could coax him into ending the night in a far quieter environment.

She just had to hope that whatever Half Sack had done by winning tonight’s fight hadn’t meant that Chibs would have to go back to the clubhouse ending this odd date abruptly.

Y/N felt her stomach drop as she heard a voice straight from the past. “Hey, Y/N? Shit, that really you, girl?”

She turned to stare up at the man who had approached her. It had been almost ten years and it seemed he’d aged with her, but she recognized the man in the kutte still.

Gunner was a Son out of Tacoma’s charter or at least that’s where he tended to roam nowadays. He’d been a nomad back when Y/N had found herself being a frequent visitor to his bed over the final year she’d spent as a club hangaround.

He’d been seven years her senior back then and had held a certain charm to him when he’d first shown her interest. He seemed to be well-versed in charming younger girls. It wasn’t something that she’d realized until she was older. Guys like him went for younger girls because women their own age knew better.

Gunner was a handsome man; muscular and much taller than her with deceptively angelic looking curly shoulder length dark hair and a dreamy pair of green eyes. His nose was somewhat crooked from having broken it in his teens. His lips were plush enough to give a few girls envy considering women paid to have fuller lips like his. His complexion always held an olive tone that he claimed was a result of his Greek heritage. He always wore a slight smirk that hinted he was full of mischief and most likely always planning something. He was more covered with tattoos than he’d been back then. She could distinctly remember a large intricate dragon that had been inked into his right forearm and shoulder. It seemed that more ink had joined the dragon in his time away. She could spot a few demons and a couple of skulls inked into his skin.

Once upon a time the sight of him might have made her knees feel wobbly. However she was aware of the brutality that could be hidden under such an attractive package.

Having him standing here staring down at her made her feel all too much like the scared exhausted twenty year old woman she’d been the last time she’d seen him.

She spoke her voice tight, she honestly longing to find Chibs more than ever now. “Gunner.”

“Shit, girl. I thought you’d run off to New York. It’s been, what, seven years now?” Gunner remarked, she daring to roll her eyes at the comment.

She was never sure if his memory was that shitty or if he just used a feigned sense of poor memory as a manipulation tactic. She had a feeling it was the latter.

“It’s been closer to ten…I’m back in town. My father died.” She remarked cringing at the final part of her statement.

She didn’t want to exactly share personal details about her life with the man in front of her.

Gunner spoke moving a little closer to her. “Sorry about that. Not sorry to have you back though.”

He moved in all the closer, his voice picking up a flirty tone that would have at one point made her feel more than ready to find a bed or some other surface and let him have his way with her. “You back at the clubhouse?”

She spoke scoffing as she stepped back from him. “No, I’m not back. I’m not interested in that anymore. I’m here with someone.”

He apparently took little notice of her absence of interest, reaching out gripping down on to her arm he fast to respond. “The lack of interest never stopped me from talking you into some fun before. Trust me, Babe, I have failed to find many pussies as fun as yours. You know whoever you’re here with won’t be near as much fun as me.”

She cringed at the salacious comment about the lower region of her body and how it compared to other women as well as the implication of fun.

Her mind quickly flashed back to the last time they’d had fun.

It was 1999 and talk of Y2K and what it meant for the turn of the millennium was all the talk around Charming.

Y/N Y/L/N found herself caring very little for what the year 2000 would bring for the future of mankind though.

As far as she cared, the world's computers could in fact fail to work and doom them all. She didn’t see much of a future even without the paranoia concerning the upcoming millennium. Everyone kept saying the world was ending but Y/N was quite certain it already did.

She woke her head pounding and her entire body aching, it taking a moment to recognize the ceiling above her. She groaned as it dawned on her just where she was and just who was practically on top of her.

She struggled to sit up from the weight of the body beside her and the brutal hangover that made her feel exhausted and far too heavy. She felt almost as slow and uncoordinated as she had been the night before.

She glanced over at the sleeping man beside her, a sense of dread and shame washing over her as she realized she’d once again found herself in bed beside the nomad.

Gunner was easily described as not being the most attentive partner when it came to her needs and her boundaries. Calling him unattentive was putting it far too kindly though.

With Gunner she always wound up bruised and not entirely feeling as though her needs had been fully attended to. She was left feeling more often than not as though she’d been violated and hating herself more than when she’d agreed to fall into his bed.

She had experienced a few things with him that had been way too far out of her comfort zone and had left her feeling wretched. Just a few months ago she had wound up having her first and only threesome with Gunner and some croweater; an experience that had made her realize she much preferred dicks to pussy and she didn’t like feeling like the third wheel in bed. Needless to say the experience had felt awkward and her attempts to put a stop to it had been ignored.

Being ignored in bed was something she was accustomed to when it came to the nomad.

The threeway was quite tame compared to the usual things Gunner talked her into at least. Sleeping with him and the croweater a few months before had at least not been painful. Usually her experiences with him pushed past a sense of discomfort and straight into an unmistakable feeling of pain.

Last night, that had been unbearably painful.

She swallowed her throat feeling dry and she finding it difficult to swallow. The action felt like it took too much effort. It burned, making tears leak from the corners of her eyes. She was able to remember just why the simple action of trying to swallow hurt so badly.

Being choked by a partner had always been a hard no for Y/N. It brought back too many horrible memories of her poor unwell brother attempting to choke her in anger back when she’d been eighteen.

Gunner had proven though, as he always did, that he didn’t care about what her hard nos were.

She cringed, hating that she was right back in his bed again, hating that she’d not been strong enough to shove him off the night before when it had become once again clear that he didn't care if she wanted to stop.

A voice in the back of her brain scolded her, reminding her the pills he’d given her the night before had made it all too difficult to really put a stop to much of anything they’d started the night before.

Gunner was a practical walking talking pharmacy always able to provide pills to Y/N. Xanax had become a regular choice for her. Booze and pot had begun to lose the effect she desired, so pills had become a lovely alternative at least when Gunner was around to provide them.

Oxycodone had been provided the night before; a new friend she’d been happy to try out washing it down with shots of whiskey and vodka.

She didn’t claim to be a junkie, but she also never claimed to be straight edge. It was under control she’d always claimed when confronted about her indulgences. It wasn’t a problem, she always explained. It wasn’t as though she was shooting up heroin in blown out veins.

A voice was always fast to taunt her though reminding her she did all kinds of terrible things with Gunner and he was always happy to coax her into them in exchange for a few pills or the occasional drop of acid.

Jax didn’t approve of her new friendship with Gunner. She’d written off his disapproval with snark. Jax and she weren’t a couple after all, so why did he give a shit if she fucked anyone else? Gunner wasn’t the only guy she’d fallen into bed with. Jax had never had a problem with her past bed partners.

She knew she had overindulged last night as she often did with Gunner. Jax had been irritating her though and she was bored. Gunner had shown up with the promise to show her something interesting in the dorm room he was crashing in and she’d followed happily.

Of course once a nice high had settled in, he’d coaxed her into sex. It was a typical dance they did. They got high, she more so than him, and he talked her into bed.

Last night felt like all too much though. He’d been rougher than usual which wasn’t saying much as he was always just a little rough. He didn’t mind biting or slapping, at least when he did it to her.

She was no masochist but she was usually too dazed to fight back too often. He was so kind between those moments of brutality in the bedroom that she’d not found it in her to make too much of a fuss over it.

Last night the high had worn off just enough for her dazed brain to panic. Gunner had paid no mind to her panic and her murmured pleas to stop. His response had been to wrap a hand around her neck and squeeze so hard that her vision had tunneled.

A voice in the back of her mind had screamed to stop him, but she was so out of it and so weakened that she’d been unable to do much more than lie there and take it.

She felt bile rise in the back of her throat remembering the act of taking it. She somehow found the strength to shove his heavy body back, barely able to peel out of bed in time to make it to the bathroom attached to the dorm.

She spilled the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl below her, the vomit burning her sore throat all the more.

Once she was certain she’d rid her body of anything that could possibly be contained within her stomach, she found herself standing up wobbling over to the mirror above the bathroom sink.

She turned on the water, managing to clean the puke from her lips before staring into the mirror.

She sighed, not shocked her bedroom partner had either not woken or bothered to care enough to check in on her while she puked.

It was better he didn’t a helpful voice in the back of her head reassured her.

She stared at her reflection, a cold chill running through her at the mess of bruises littered across her skin, the most prominent appearing around her throat.

Her eyes felt cold and empty as she stared at her reflection, the eyeliner she’d worn the night before smeared. Her lipstick was long gone and her lips felt chapped and raw. Her hair was a tangled mess and needed a good thorough wash.

Her nude body was riddled with more bruises and in her opinion she suddenly realized she was far too thin. When was the last time she ate a decent meal?

She was suddenly so tired. She felt so much older than her twenty years of age.

A small voice perked up in the back of her mind it quick to point out the obvious; this was no way to live, this was how she was going to die. For the first time in a very long time she realized that she didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to die here.

With that realization she made her way back out to the dorm room relieved Gunner had not woken. She redressed, not caring if she even found her purse.

She did the walk of shame relieved that no one other than a few croweaters who had managed to avoid being the company of Sons last night were up. They were all cleaning up last night’s party and did not pay her any mind.

Y/N walked out of the clubhouse for the last time not saying a word to anyone.

She walked and walked for what seemed like hours until she reached a phone booth. She wasn’t sure if she believed in God but by some grace she found a couple of dropped quarters in the booth; just enough to make a phone call.

The voice answered on the other end the reassuring gentle lilt of her father’s voice putting tears in her eyes. “Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home. How can I assist you today.”

“Daddy.” The words left her, her voice more of a croak she feeling all the more exhausted.

“Y/N, Baby? Where are you? What’s wrong?” Her father’s voice sounded out the professional tone dropping from his tone the panicked concern of a parent fearing for their child taking over.

The words left her changing her life forever. “I’m so tired, Daddy. I am so exhausted. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t do this anymore, please. I need help.”

Y/N was pulled from the memory, it enough to put some motivation into her she pulling against his grip her voice harsh. “Let go of me. I’m not that girl anymore.”

“You being here says something entirely different. Look around you Babe, you aren’t the only croweater hanging around tonight.” was the reply Gunner gave her still making it clear that he had zero interest in listening to any boundaries she sat.

His grip on her wrist grew tighter making her cringe as pain shot through her wrist.

Her savior came from out of nowhere the voice firm and monotone. “What the hell are you doing? You better back off Chibs’ ol lady.”

She gazed up at Happy almost certain she could have never believed she could be so thrilled to see the Tacoma Killer.

Happy had been around back in her club hang around days. Though she had never gone to bed with him.

In her opinion Happy had not seemed to mind her lack of interest in going to bed with him. He had seemed more interested in her family’s line of work. In particular he’d seemed more interested in picking her brain for knowledge about embalming than getting into her pants.

She’d always had the feeling that he’d gotten a sense of some slightly demented pleasure hearing all about embalming. A part of her that was all too aware of Happy Lowman’s reputation had to wonder if he actually found the descriptions of the tools used during embalming to be enjoyable and possibly even inspirational.

A small worried part of her brain had to wonder if the knowledge she’d imparted on him about her family’s line of work had been inspiration for him to try some of those practices on the living. It was a rabbit hole she never wanted to venture down.

Gunner at least had the sense to let her go though she had to be irritated that it had taken the mention of Chibs to get him to do it. It was somewhat insulting to think that her no hadn’t been enough until it was clear that another man had dibs on her.

She found herself unable to present the argument that it was far too soon for her to put the ol lady title on herself.

If calling herself Chibs’ ol lady got her out of this mess then so be it.

Happy gazed down at her, the toothpick he held between his teeth sliding from one side of his mouth to the other. She got the sense that he was checking her over for any sign of damage.

She didn’t miss the gaze he sent to her wrist which she was clutching in her hand attempting to cope with the dull ache settling over the joints.

Gunner spoke an amused chuckle leaving him as though he hadn’t just been essentially assaulting her. “Shit, she’s hooked up with Chibs? Didn’t know he took up an ol lady. Last I heard he was still a sad Scottish fuck.”

If she wasn’t still feeling overwhelmed and slightly panicked she may have taken offense to the comment about Chibs.

It seemed that Happy took up the challenge for her his voice harsh. “Shut the fuck up. Chibs ain’t ever done shit to you. You’re always running your damn mouth. Last thing we need right now is you stirring up shit with Mother.”

Y/N furrowed her brow, it taking a minute for her brain to detect the word Mother meant SAMCRO. They were the Redwood originals after all.

Happy finally spoke, nodding to her his voice still that monotone droll. “Ignore this asshole. You okay?”

She parted her lips to respond but didn’t have a chance as the Scotsman they’d been discussing approached them, his voice cheerful he not yet taking notice of Y/N’s expression. “Hen, there ya are. Juicy said ya went to the bathroom. Thought it was takin a wee bit. Figured I’d come find ya in case ya got lost in the crowd.”

She gazed up at Chibs unable to stop herself from scooting close to him as he approached.

The cheerful energy dropped from Chibs’ features as he took notice of her clutching her wrist. “What’s goin on, lass? What’s goin on with yer wrist? Are ya hurt?”

She parted her lips, the words dying on her tongue. She felt less like the woman who always had a smart remark and more like the scared twenty year old she’d been calling her dad in a phone booth begging for help.

Her dad was long gone now though. A voice in the back of her mind told her she had no one to protect her now.

Gunner was dumb enough to speak up, not hiding his actions. “I got a little handsy. Didn’t realize she was yours. To be fair, I didn't see a crow unless you put it on her ass or tit and I’m not seeing it.”

Chibs tensed at the words stepping forward his shoulders tensing his hands forming fists. “Ya fuckin touched her?”

Gunner paused a small smirk crossing his features not backing down. “She used to be a Friday night girl. I thought she might be back. Just figured she forgot her place, you know these bitches sometimes can get mouthy and need reminders.”

“Aye, she ain’ fuckin back. I don’ find the need to hand out reminders to women.” Chibs snapped moving further forward Y/N not missing that he stepped in front of her as though he was attempting to shield her from Gunner’s gaze.

Gunner shook his head clearly showing zero interest in any sense of self preservation or need to shut up now. “Trust me, from my experience with her she needs plenty of reminders. She always had a fucking mouth on her…it was nice at least when she put it to the right use. Don’t even get me started about her pussy though. Her mouth has nothing on that pussy. I dream about that tight pussy still.”

The words were enough to make Chibs raise his fist taking a swing. It was enough to push the younger man back just slightly. Though Gunner recovered quickly, raising his own fist ready to deliver a blow back.

The hit he threw back knocked Chibs back just the slightest but the Scot was quick to deliver another blow in retaliation managing to land one square across Gunner’s jaw.

Happy stepped into action moving between the two men. He placed himself between them holding them apart, his voice raising but still remaining flat. “Stop, enough of this shit.”

Both men struggled against Happy’s attempts. The chaos snapped Y/N out of the agonizing sense of fear and dread a voice piping up in the back of her mind.

She was not left without anyone to protect her now. Chibs was proving to be the protector she needed.

She cringed everything in her wanting to allow Chibs to beat Gunner to a bloody pulp despite her claim she didn’t enjoy watching men beat the crap out of one another.

She was not willing for Chibs to be just as beaten in return though.

She stepped forward placing a gentle hand on Chibs’ back, her voice soft. “Let it go. It’s over.”

“He needs to keep his hands off ya and his mouth shut bout ya.” Chibs snapped in response.

Gunner smirked delighted to push more buttons. “Just cluing you in Chibs. Figured you might want to know about her past. She’s been in a few guys' beds. Thought you might want to know just where she learned those bedroom skills she’s used on you. I taught her to do that humming thing she does when she’s deepthroating you.”

The comment was enough to push Chibs further forward, Happy thankfully strong enough to shove the older Scot back, his voice picking up a hint of annoyance. “Enough.”

Y/N stepped forward moving beside Chibs, her voice soft as she placed a hand on his shoulder able to feel the tension rolling off him as he struggled to break past Happy’s hold. “Filip, please. He’s not worth the effort.”

She gently rubbed his shoulder, her voice pleaing. “Take me home, please, Baby. Let’s just go somewhere else. I don’t want to be here anymore. Just take me somewhere else far away from him.”

The use of his real name and the sudden addition of a pet name was enough to break Chibs’ focus on Gunner and the desire to beat the man within an inch of his life.

She spoke again, the plea still so apparent in her voice. “Please, Filip.”

He let out a shaky sigh fighting between the desire to push past Happy and give Gunner exactly what he deserved and the need to listen to the woman he was so ready to fight over.

He took a deep breath pushing down his rage making his choice.

He stepped back holding his hands up a sign to Happy that he was done.

Happy at least had the sense to keep a grip on Gunner stopping the man from stepping forward and continuing the fight.

Chibs took Y/N’s hand in his, giving it a firm but reassuring squeeze, the rage he felt still bubbling within him.

She squeezed his hand back Gunner speaking up past Happy, spotting that he was not getting the fist fight he apparently craved. “That pussy must be better than I remember if you’re backing down from a fight Chibby.”

Chibs gritted his jaw he fast to reply. “If it wasn’ fer her, I’d knock yer teeth outta yer head. Yer lucky I care more bout givin’ her what she wants than doin’ what I want righ’ now. Next time we meet and she ain’ here, I’m makin good on knockin ya flat on yer arse.”

With that he turned, allowing Y/N to drag him away before he lost his resolve and did exactly what he wanted with or without having to find a way to shove past Happy.

Chibs took a few more deep breaths leading her through the fairgrounds, his voice tense. “Let’s get ya home, Hen.”

She nodded her head, her voice soft. “When you get me there…come inside, please. I think I have some things to tell you.”

He nodded his head, his voice just as soft, his hand releasing hers, his arm wrapping around her waist squeezing her tight against him. “Aye, I guess ya do…ain’ goin to change how I feel bout ya. Jus’ so ya know.”

She felt a tight smile cross her lips, she hoping and praying to anyone who might be listening, even if it was a God she wasn’t sure she believed in, that he meant it.

She didn’t know what she’d do if he changed his mind about her after hearing all she had to say about what he’d heard tonight.

She didn’t want to lose him.

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