#I only mentioned the chapter as a way to explain that I've been feeling like nothing I create is good enough.

[cutebat]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

The Other Half

Warning(s): Yandere themes (at the end), neglect, mentions of pills (but she doesn't actually take them), a lot of swearing, stealing, mentions of cheating and bribery, attempted guilt tripping, forcing to drop out, reader is just a millennial in the 2020s

(This chapter is basically the other part of the prologue, and I fixed some things. Most of this chapter just shows reader's personal life at school.)

~~~~~

How long has it been has you stopped being Batgirl?

Days... Weeks... Months... A year?

Honestly, you don't really care. It's more like you don't feel to care anymore.

After you threw out your costume in that dumpster, you just lost all hope of whatever you'll become.

You were walking down the hallway of the Wayne manor as you think about all of this.

If nobody really cared about what you did, then why bother keep going? I mean, your family didn't really give you a lot of praise.

You let out a heavy sigh as you enter the bathroom. When you locked the door, you couldn't help but stare at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes were still kinda empty but a little bright at the same time. Your hair feels so smooth and soft. And your skin... it just looks so perfect. This makes you think to yourself...

Since when did you become so pretty?

After staring at yourself in the mirror, you were about to leave the bathroom before you gaze lands on something.

It was an orange pill bottle.

"SSRI..."

You mutter out as you read the label.

You opened the door to peak to see if anyone was in the hallway. Coast clear.

With that, you took the pill bottle and put it in your top since you didn't have any pockets.

~~~~~

The first week when you started eighth grade came by quickly.

You were just wandering down around the hallway alone as many students walked by you to either go to class or skip to go somewhere.

As you walked down the hallway, you spotted someone approaching you.

"Uh, hey."

The voice calls out to you as the person walks towards you.

It was a guy with slightly bushy blonde hair with brown eyes. He seems to be around your age.

You only blinked before you spoke up.

"Hi."

You responded blankly.

"Um, are you new here?"

He asks as he rubs the back of his head.

"I've been going here for two years."

You said as you just stood there, staring at this boring looking guy.

"Oh, cool... I just thought that since I've never seen you around here before. Anyway, do you know where your classes are?"

He asks which makes you tilt your head to the side a bit.

"Kinda. I've seen all of the classes here around this building, so I think I'm going to be fine."

You said as you place your hand on your hip.

"Okay, that's cool. I'm Peter, by the way. What's your name?"

The guy whose name is Peter introduces himself with a small smile.

You were silent for a bit, surprised that someone actually spoke to you. You decided to... be nice, I guess.

"(name)."

You simply replied with your hand still on your hip.

"Aw, cool. It was nice meeting you (name). Hey, if you want, maybe we can hang out. You know, as friends? Maybe more...?"

Peter said as if he had high hope.

You just blinked before you replied.

"I literally just met you."

"Well... yeah, but-"

The guy tries to explain himself before you caught him off again.

"Well, I'm going to find my class now. See ya."

You said before you turned and walked away.

Was that guy really trying to hit on you?

~~~~~

You enter the classroom that seems to look like any other classroom.

"Ah, we have our first tardy student. Welcome to English 2. My name is Ms. Tucker, what is yours?"

The teacher said as she turned to you.

You stayed by the doorway for a moment, looking unfazed.

"Um... Beyoncé?"

You replied which made the students in the class laugh.

"Settle down! I have to look it up in the attendance sheet, then..."

Your teacher said with a sigh before she pointed at an empty desk, indicating that your new seat was.

As you sat down, Ms. Tucker speaks up again.

"Alright then, now I see that everyone's present, I want to start off with some first day reading. Basically, like silent reading time."

She said before a girl raised her hand.

"Can we read manga?"

She asks, which makes the teacher raise her eyebrow.

"Is that like... a comic book?"

"Does it even matter?"

"Well, I don't think they're fitting for your age."

"You literally just said to 'read a book'. Manga is technically a book."

"I'm not sure if that's school appropriate."

"I just saw a manga section in the school library earlier, how the fuck is that not school appropriate?"

"Not getting to the point here. I'm just saying to read something more like you kids would like."

"And what's that?"

"How about... The Catcher in the Rye? Written by J.D. Salinger?"

Everyone fell silent before you spoke up.

"You're such a fucking white mom, it's not even funny."

This made everyone in the class burst out laughing.

"Excuse me, young lady?"

"You heard me, bitch."

The students laughed even more.

"Go to the headmaster's office!"

Ms. Tucker yells as she points to the door.

~~~~~

"You're on thin ice on the first day, (name)."

The headmaster said with her hands on her hips.

"It's not my fault that Ms. Tucker is such a bitch and also, there was this other girl who interrupted her."

You said as you were seated in front of her.

"Don't shift this onto someone else, (name). We're talking about you right now."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Accidentally call my teacher a fucking white mom?"

"You're supposed to follow the school rules and not insult your teachers. You should've known this."

"I do."

"Then, why did you do it anyway?"

You purse your lips before you respond.

"Because it's funny."

Your response made your headmaster sigh to calm herself down.

"Well... if this doesn't work out for you, we can always transfer you in an alternative educational system instead."

She suggests using a calm, patient expression on her face.

"I swear to god if you put me in one of those schools that have nothing but those weird, delusional people who believe in 'those' kinds of inclusivity topics, I will actually bully the fuck out of all of them."

You told her with a slightly irritated expression on your face.

"I wasn't implying to those schools, (name). We have other educational systems for students who don't seem to get along."

Your headmaster said which made you raise your eyebrow.

"Really now?"

"I wouldn't try to get into them if I were you. Please believe me when I tell you that the school you're in right now is actually a good thing."

She explains to you which made you seem to be in more thought.

~~~~~

Later in lunch, you were sitting at a table alone as you stared down at the food that Alfred made for you.

"Damn, it's fucking freezing in here. Why do they always turn up the AC?"

You mutter to yourself as you slightly shiver.

"Fucking tell me about it."

A voice pipes up that makes you look up to see two girls who are wearing the same uniform as you, walking over to you.

"Oh, sorry. Were you guys sitting here? I can move if you want."

You said before one of them shook her head.

"Nah, it's fine. You seem cool."

She said as she and the other girl sits down in front of you.

"I'm Noelle, and this is Sasha."

The girl in the bob cut said as the other girl nodded.

"I'm (name)."

You said in a bored tone.

"(name)... such a cute name. I like it."

Noelle said with a small smile.

"So, where did you come from?"

"The headmaster's office."

You said as you roll your eyes.

"Damn, the headmaster's office on the first day? What did you do?"

Sasha asks as she rests her chin on the palm of her hand.

"I told Ms. Tucker that she was a fucking white mom."

You respond in an emotionless tone.

"She is, isn't she?"

"Yeah, except I don't think she's married or anything."

"You don't need to be married to be a mom."

"That's true."

"Anyway, that was really good."

"I know."

You said with a small smirk on your face, feeling a sense of pride in yourself.

As the three of you were chatting, someone walks up to your table.

"Hey, guys. Hey, Sasha..."

Looking up, you see a slightly tall guy with brown hair, towering over the three of you.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Sasha asks as she glares up at the guy.

"It's me. Ian? I was in your social studies class last year. You know, year 8? You used to copy off of the tests that we took. I'm also in your geography class right now."

He said as Sasha just blankly stared up at him.

"Okay... cool."

"So, anyway, I actually wanna ask you something."

Ian said as he glanced down at the three girls below.

"Who?"

You ask with your eyebrow lifted.

"You, actually."

"Wait, me? Why?"

"I heard about you calling Ms. Tucker names and got sent to the office for that. I want to say that's actually pretty cool."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Yeah, so, anyway... I want to know if you're free either tonight or tomorrow."

"Why do you want to know?"

"I actually want to... take you out on a date."

"A date?"

You ask out loud with your eyes wide.

"Yeah. It's not going to be too extreme... just a simple night out at my favorite spot."

Ian said with a smile.

"And where's that?"

You ask with your eyebrow raised.

"The arcade at the alleyway."

"An arcade? Out of all the places, an arcade is your go to spot?"

"Yeah. It's pretty old, but it's also kinda cool."

You just blinked as you were in thought. The guy himself seemed pretty boring, but on second thought, you don't really want to go back home after school.

"Yeah, sure."

"Wait, really?"

Ian said out of suprise.

"Yeah, I have nothing else to do. My home life is pretty shitty anyway, so I have no problem."

You tell him.

"Oh, sweet. Okay, then. I'll give you my number to send you the location. It was nice meeting you."

He said before he placed a piece of paper in front of you before he walks off.

"Holy shit..."

Noelle mutters out.

"You got asked out by a grade 9 student."

Sasha said as she stared into you.

"Yeah... Is that a problem?"

You ask.

"No, not at all. It's just that... you got asked out by someone on the first day. That's pretty impressive."

Sasha said in an amazed tone.

"Yeah. I won't be that surprised that it's a super lame dude, but an older dude is kind of just... wow."

Noelle said with her eyes wide.

"So, if I get asked out by an older guy, does that mean it's a good thing?"

You ask as you lean back to your seat.

"Well, it depends on the guy. If he's just a few years older than you, that's fine. But really old dudes, no way."

Sasha said as she stares at your food.

"Hey, are you going to eat that? My mom won't make me anything cause I told her that her new haircut looks like a really trashy lesbian would have, and the school lunch here is just not it."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. The temperature in here made me lose my appetite."

You said as you pushed your lunch towards her.

~~~~~

After school, you went through a very long day.

You had your date with that Ian guy at the arcade. It's pretty trashy but kinda fun. He even got you this massive bunny plushie. After the date, he wanted to take you home, but you just left before he could say anything else. Then, you end up meeting a guy who seems to be around a few years older than you on your way home. He took you to an abandoned building, but he ended up falling asleep the second you two entered. So, you ended up taking his wallet for an Uber. Once the driver dropped you off, he gave you his number for some reason. It was weird, but you took it anyway cause, why not.

~~~~~

"Whew, what a day..."

You muttered to yourself as you entered the Wayne manor.

"Miss (name), where on earth have you been?"

Alfred, the family butler, asks out of shock as he comes downstairs to find you coming inside.

"At an arcade."

You reply in a blank tone.

"So, I'm supposed to believe the story of you being at an arcade after school all night?"

The old butler wonders with his eyebrow lifted.

"All night? I was there for about what... Two or three hours."

"It's two in the morning, miss (name)."

"Oh, wow. I really hung around that building for that long?"

You mutter to yourself out of surprise.

"What building are you talking about, miss (name)?"

Alfred asks as he walks up to you.

"Some abandoned building I went to after my date at that shitty arcade."

You tell the butler as he kneels down to your height.

"How far away were you? Did you walk? Your uniform is a mess!"

He asks as he took a look at you.

"Nah, I got myself an Uber. It's fine."

You tell him with your tone still blank as ever.

"Miss (name), I don't think it's a good idea to accept rides from strangers."

Alfred said with a heavy sigh as he led you upstairs.

"That's how Ubers work, Alfred. You just find someone pretty close to your location and let them drive you anywhere you want. It's like going on a taxi."

You explain to him as he takes you to your bedroom and lets you sit down on your desk chair.

"I suppose. However, you could have given Master Richard or Master Jason to pick you up. I think that'll be a safer option."

Alfred said in reply as he took out some comfortable clothes from your closet and handed them over to you.

"Why the hell should I call these fuckers? They don't give a shit about me anyway."

You snap at the butler as you snatch your clothes from him and go inside your own bathroom.

It was silent as Alfred stood in front of your bathroom door with a concerned expression and a heavy heart. Then, he speaks up again.

"I tried to talk to them again today, especially to Master Bruce. But, I got no response from all of them. I really tried. I'm really sorry, miss (name)."

His words made the old butler pursed his lips as he let out a sigh. He feels guilty that he didn't try enough for your family to at least give you a glance. He's been doing this ever since you got neglected and tried every single day with no response.

That's when you open the bathroom door with you wearing the clothes that he gave you. A yellow sweatshirt and a black skirt.

"It's fine, just forget about it. I appreciate though."

You tell him as you look up at him.

"Sorry for snapping at you a second ago..."

You added as you put some of your hair strands behind your ear.

However, the butler only smiles as he kneels down to your height once again.

"I understand, miss (name). It's not your fault. None of this is."

He reassures you as he places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"Even though they might not pay attention to you that much, I will always be by your side."

He tells you that made you smile a little.

"Thanks, Alfred."

You mutter out.

"Also, let's keep me coming back home a secret, okay? I know that they won't care if they find out, but still."

You add with a chuckle that made the butler smile.

"Alright. But, I will advise you to go to bed now. It's a school night, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Meanwhile, unknowingly to you, someone was beside your bedroom door, listening in the conversation.

~~~~~

Since then, you've never felt so... free.

You became friends with those two girls from lunch, and more guys asked you out while you two timed them the same time, and some of the teachers were so easy to bribe off that you ended up skipping most of your classes. At least you were still passing.

You also stayed up at night to do stuff like going out, doing some more lame dates, and most of all, just chilled out.

As long Alfred kept quiet about all this, then none of this would have a problem. Not that you have too much to worry about.

Life is going so well for you.

For now.

~~~~~

When the first semester ended and winter break started, you had a packed schedule ahead. You're planning to go on dates for the next two weeks straight. It was going to be tough, especially hanging around with a bunch of weird guys, but hey, at least they're buying you things that you want.

As you entered your bedroom because you forgot your phone, you were suprised to see...

Bruce?

He was sitting on your bed and seemed to be deep in thought before he looked up to see you standing by in the doorway.

"What are you doing in here?"

You ask as you walk into your room.

Bruce seems to be nervous before he lets out a sigh.

"(name)... we need to have a talk."

He said as he looked straight into your eyes which made you groan.

"Oh my god... Can we talk about this later? I have a date to go to."

You ask that made him a little frustrated.

"You're not going anywhere tonight, (name)."

He said that made you a little surprised.

"Why the hell not?"

"Watch your tone, young lady."

"Since when did you address me that?"

"Not the point right now."

Bruce lets out a sigh before he looks down at you.

"Look, I... was told about your behavior for the past months and I took a look through your things to check up on what was going on. I... didn't know what you were going through. None of us did. We didn't know that this the reason why you're behaving like this at school and started hanging out with the wrong people."

He tells you as he places his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm really sorry, (name)... I really am. Even though you can't forgive me for what I did, I'll try my best to be the best father you've ever had. I told the others about this and they'll start behaving and treat you the way that you deserve."

You just stood there, as if you heard the biggest news of your life, except not in a good way. It's as if something hit you right in the gut.

"Oh, shit! Um... okay."

You mutter out as you just stare at your adopted father.

Sensing your tenses, Bruce decided to go into more detail. Which was not a good idea...

"Because of this, I decided that you should be around people who me and the others will find alright. Since I don't know who you're around, Damian will check who your friends and the people you date are. Also, the family wants you to be around them. Such as spending time with them and basically having fun. Something that you never got to experience."

Now, this. This felt like a nuclear bomb dropped into your head.

"Are you serious...? Like, are you actually fucking serious right now?"

You ask as your eye twitches a bit.

"You really thought I could just accept whatever shit that comes out of your mouth because you suddenly remember what you and those other fuckers treated me? Now, you want me to drop out of the life that I kinda enjoy? You sure are funny, are you?"

You said in a bitter tone before your lips curled into a snarl.

"I will never forget about the shit that I went through to please you and that shitty family that I was forced to be a part of."

You added as you walked to Bruce and got in his face before you spit out the next two words out of your mouth.

"Fuck you and your family."

With that, you stormed out of your bedroom as Bruce calls out for you.

~~~~~

Your mind was flooded with so much anger that you ended up forgetting about the three dates that you were supposed to go to today.

This wasn't the way you wanted to start your winter break.

You don't know why, but you stormed into the attic and sat down on the floor.

"Fuck!"

You yelled out as you panted slightly.

As you were panting, you looked down to finally notice a glittery diary in your hand. Since when did you get your hand on this?

You can't help but open the diary to find all the pages empty. It's not really a suprise then you never used it in your life. You don't even remember when you got this.

So, you looked around before your eyes landed on a random pen lying on the ground. Without thinking, you picked it up and opened the diary to the very first page.

With that, you started to write your 'entry'.

It's time to show the world of this game that you're forced to be in.

•

•

•

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(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)

[fangsandfeels]

The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes

So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".

Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.

Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.

Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.

But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:

Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."

From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves

And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.

Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.

Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.

Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.

Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.

So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.

For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.

However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.

So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.

On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 4- Heartbreak and Understanding

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen X Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N decides to forgive Max. Max wins his home race. She meets Max's girlfriend who doesn't seem to like her very much. Did I tell you Y/N watched Max win his home race?

{Reader's POV}

Falling in love with your friend is a bad idea. Falling in love with your internet friend who has a girlfriend was an even worse idea. Falling in love with Max Emilian Verstappen was the worst idea. He's all over my screen after I searched him on every social media ever. I cannot escape him when I'm trying to get over him.

It's been a few months since the either of us have spoken to each other. After I asked for time, Max respected my wishes. After our call, I received a message from him saying that he would always be there for me no matter what and that he would like to clear up the misunderstanding one day. I knew I would talk to him, however I hoped that it would be when I was over him. Doesn't look like that's about to happen any time soon since this man is everywhere and anywhere I look.

Summer break was here, so I was having a girl's night with my friend Riley when I decided to ask for her opinion on this whole debacle. "Sooooo, Riley" I began. "You're about to unload some shit you did aren't you. Who fucked you up?" she interrupted me. "What?" I questioned. "I've known you for 6 years, I know you too well. Tell me who do I have to beat up." she said. I began to laugh. "No one" I said in between laughter. I wiped a tear away from the side of my eye, "I haven't laughed like this in a while." I muttered. "Go on, love" Riley prodded. "Yeah, so I have this internet friend, we've been friends since 2013. He's nice, kind, funny, handsome, blonde, blue eyes" I was talking when she cut me off; "exactly your type" I nodded along. "It's all nice and all. I didn't know what he did for a living. I recently found out that he is famous" I mumbled. She looked at me shocked. "Who?" was all she said. "Max Verstappen, Formula One driver for Redbull Racing" I said. "Damn, I mean he's like cute for a white boy. I think he's cool and shit for driving in fast cars, I appreciate him as an athlete for sure; as my bestie's potential love interest, questionable at best" she replied. "why, I mean I didn't say I was interested in him?" I asked defensively. "Bro, he is literally exactly your type, I've seen the men you date or hook up with, on the other hand, he has a girlfriend" she pointed out. "Ok, I know and you scare me sometimes" I lamented. "so, my real question is, I didn't know he was Max Verstappen. I didn't know he had a girlfriend. I was hurt when I found out and stopped talking to him, had a confrontation and then I said I need time before I am ready" I explained. "Understandable" she nodded along. "what do I do?" I asked. "what do you want to do?" she questioned back.

I love Max and I would like to be a part of his life even if it meant only as friends because I cherished the time we've had together. Also, I feel like I didn't let him explain himself the last time we spoke. I want to mend our ways. I would love to have him forever, even if only as a friend. "I want to still have him in my life even if it meant only as friends." I said cautiously. "Then there's your answer." she pointed out. "Talk to him, clear stuff out. If his explanation seems legit then continue to be friends." she suggested. "great idea. Thanks Riley" I said. "Don't mention it. Now can we un-pause the movie." she asked. "yes" I said while un-pausing the movie.

A few days after the heart to heart with Riley I texted Max. I knew he was supposed to be back next weekend for the race and was currently at home. I kind of confirmed that by watching his streams where he did SimRacing. I don't think I'll be telling this to anyone, honestly. He was on stream when my text went through, I saw him check his phone and ask to leave the stream early since he needed to do something; that something being to call me because within seconds my phone was ringing with the familiar name cropping up on the screen. I answered the call, Max staring back at me, a tentative smile played on his lips. He waited for me to start talking.

Y/N- Hi Max. Max- Hi Y/N, how've been? Y/N- Good, you? Max- Yeah, OK. Y/N- I'm sorry for lashing out the last time we spoke. Max- No, no, don't be sorry. I was at fault for hiding such important information from you. Can you ever forgive me? Y/N- Depends... Max- What do I have to do to get you to forgive me? Y/N- Why didn't you tell me? About everything; your girlfriend, your career? Max- I...When we started talking I just enjoyed being a regular teenager, where we talked about school and random stuff. I got to be Max the teenager not Max the youngest Formula One driver. I enjoyed the disconnect I got with you. I got to be myself and forget about racing for a minute. You made me feel like a regular guy. Y/N- I wish you had told me because when I found out about your championships, I felt like I missed out on celebrating such a huge and momentous occasion with you. That hurt. Max- I'm sorry for that. I didn't know how to tell you since it had been so long, I did want to tell you, I really did want to share my happiness with you; I just didn't know how to. You made me feel normal. Y/N- I'm glad I could be of some help. Max- You were of so much help. You calmed me down before many races and reading your messages or hearing your voice was like a comfortable constant. Thank you. Y/N- Fine, I get it some times famous people want to live regular lives, what about your girlfriend. Why didn't you tell me about her? Max- I....am not really sure. We started dating 2 years ago, it just happened. We'd known each other for a while. It just happened. Y/n- Hmmm....doesn't she mind that we talk so much? Max- No, she's chill about it. (He laughed awkwardly) Y/N- I hope we won't have anymore lies between us Max- No not at all. I cherish our friendship too much Y/N- me too. Max- This weekend is my home race. Y/N- I saw Max- You did? Y/N- I might like watching my best friend win... Max- That's great, then you can watch me win in person next week. Y/N- Sweetheart, Maxie, You might be a millionaire; your friend here is broke as fuck. I can't fly out so suddenly. Max- You don't have to worry about anything. I'll get you the tickets and stuff. Just say yes. Y/N- I mean, I would love to meet you in person.... Max- Then, that's final. You're coming to the Dutch GP next week. I'll pick you up at the airport. You should come early and leave a little later. I'll show you around. Max looked and sounded excited. Y/N- Ok (I couldn't help but laugh at his excitement)

As soon as I ended the call, I got plane tickets to the race. He said he would come pick me. I couldn't wait to meet him. I'm sure nothing bad will happen; from meeting my long time friend.

I thought maybe I should show Max some support and buy his merchandise or something; no one told me it was this expensive. I decided against it. The race was on the 27th; I was flying in on the 24th. The flight there was nerve wrecking. I've seen him although not in person. I got a text from Max telling me to go to a certain gate in the parking area where he would be waiting. I found him rather quickly; he had his hand sticking out of the car. I tapped on the window with a big smile plastered on my face. "Hi Maxie!" I greeted. "hey, schat. Get in, I don't wanna get caught." he said pointed at the door. "By who?" I quizzed. "I feel like you forgot what I did for a living and where we were." he chided. I laughed before walking to the opposite side and getting in.

Initially, things felt a little awkward but the atmosphere turned friendly quite quickly. We reached the hotel I would be staying at; Max had planned the entire week of my stay out. I was going to just rest today while Max attended to media stuff and then we would have dinner together tonight. He would take me along to the paddock for all the 3 days. And after the race weekend, he would take me to all his favourite place; my personal tour guide.

I crashed for the day after a shower and having food. I only woke up when Max called me to let him in. It took me a while to realise where I was. I apologised for not being ready to leave when that was the plan initially. Max didn't mind and offered to wait till I got dressed. He told me we were going somewhere fancy so I pulled out my black satin dress I kept for special occasions. This was a special occasion, right, I thought. Max was a lot more patient compared to all my exes who would start getting antsy; he even helped me decide on the jewellery and shoes I should pair with my outfit. Why are all the good men taken, God?

We had authentic dutch food in a fancy restaurant as a three course meal. I loved the Apple tart. I almost moaned as I placed a spoon of it in my mouth; "Max, this is so good" I groaned. Max smiled, "I'm happy you like it." "I love desserts Max, but this is almost up there with my favourites" I said with a mouth full of apple tart. "What are your favourites?" Max asked. "I love tres leches, tiramisu and cheese cakes" I mumbled. After finishing the food, we decided to walk around for a while; it was kind of dark and Max would probably not get recognised was the thought. "Thanks for the food. Maximilian" I said. He just nodded along. "It's an atrocious name Maxie, no offence but Emilian as a middle name; who ever named you, hates you" I said shaking my head. Max laughed it off; "I would've thought you were fucking with me, if you told me that was your middle name" I said patting his back. "I'm sorry" he said. "Don't apologise for your name, you had no control" I said now facing him. "No, I mean I'm sorry for lying and hiding things from you. I never felt good doing that. I wish I had told you sooner. I wish you had found out about it through me." he said regretfully. "It's ok Max, the past is in the past. I hope we'll be more honest in this friendship" I said enveloping him in a hug for the first time. His head found it's way in the crook of my neck, a woody scent wafted into my nose while Max clutched on to my waist. I felt warm tears drip down my shoulder. "Max, are you crying?" I asked, trying to pull away. He tightened the grip on my waist and buried his head deeper, if it was possible, "No" he replied, making my skin on the shoulder vibrate. "It's ok Maxie, let it all out. I'm always there for you." I said patting his back to console him. "I thought I lost you, I thought you'd never speak to me again, I thought you hated me." he muttered softly. "I could never hate you, I might've been angry but I knew I didn't want to lose you either. You are a very important friend to me" I said. "I don't ever want to lose you" he said, finally deciding to look at me with his tear streaked face. I wiped away the tears. "Me neither, now let's go, you have a race tomorrow" I said pulling him along.

The conversation kept me up at night. It was giving me mixed signals. I didn't know what to make of it. He has a girlfriend, granted I haven't met her yet. There was desperation in Max's eyes and his words. They felt heavy and part of me wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with this. Was I thinking too much into it? What was Max's deal?

I got to meet Max's girlfriend the next day. She didn't seem too pleased with me; I mean I don't think anyone could welcome a random women your boyfriend said was his childhood friend suddenly. I didn't hold it against her. I got to meet Max's teammate and the other drivers. All of them were very kind and welcoming. I got to learn a lot about Max while I waited for him to get done with interviews after free practise. I was talking to Lando while he waited his turn after Max. Max returned which made Lando leave. "You didn't tell me you had such cute friends. I would've asked you you set me up with him sooner" I said while we walked back to Redbull. "No" he stated. "You're patronising with the enemy" he continued. "Your enemy, my future boyfriend." I joked. "He's not your type" Max interjected. "And you know what my type is?" I asked. Before he could say anything, his girlfriend whisked him away.

I ended up talking to Checo who was surprised to know me and Max had been friends for so long. Almost everyone in the garage was shocked about our friendship. Checo told me it's because Max had never told them about me. Max and his girlfriend came back who looked visibly annoyed; I tried asking Max what was up but he brushed me off. I spent the rest of the day being dragged around by Max who couldn't stop talking about anything and everything.

I spent Saturday with a lot of the mechanics and engineers who had so much good stuff to talk about. It would probably help me in editing that author. She was almost done with the book; but a few more additions won't hurt. Max qualified pole, he was so excited. He dropped me back at my room when I told him he should rest up before the race when he offered to watch a movie with me. He couldn't care less, he promised to win the race for me even with a little sleep. We ended up watching some movie. His girlfriend's annoyed face was etched in my brain through out the movie, so I decided to ask him about that. "Max, I'm sure your girlfriend minds you spending so much time with me" I suggested. "No, I told her I'm meeting you for the first time. She shouldn't care." he said. "I'm sure she does, she doesn't look very happy to me" I commented. "Don't think about it too much" Max said handing me the can of cold drink. I wasn't very satisfied, but there's only so much I could do.

The race was crazy, it got my heart beating really fast watching all of them zip past at such a high speed. Max did so well, he finished the race in P1 just like how he started it. Everyone rejoiced and headed to where Max was. GP took me with him. Max got out of the car and took his helmet off, his eyes were scanning the area. As soon as our eyes met he strode towards me. His girlfriend was a couple of steps away, before I knew it Max hugged me. "I won, just like I told you I would" he whispered. "Congratulations Max." I said while turning my head towards his girlfriend who looked visibly annoyed and quickly turned on her heels and left. "You shouldn't have done that" I told Max while pulling away. "Done what?" he questioned. "You should've gone to your girlfriend after winning your home race." I said. "She's here for so many of my races, you're not" he stated. I face palmed myself, "Doesn't matter Max, she probably hates me" I said. Max just shrugged his shoulders and went to get weighed.

After all the formality and interviews Max was on the top step of the podium. I was very proud of him and you could see it on my face. I couldn't find his girlfriend anywhere around. Max got down from the podium drenched in champagne trying to hug me while I pushed him away. "No, you'll get me all sticky" I shouted while running away from him.

[ Winning his home race felt special to Max because Y/N was watching. He walked right up to her the moment his eyes landed on her. He couldn't help but wrap himself around her. After the race, they were going out to celebrate his win because Y/N wanted to go out with the other drivers and so he agreed. After reaching his room to quickly shower and leave, he was met with his girlfriend who was sat on the edge of the bed. She didn't look happy and after a bit of back and forth; Max said it. The words that had been floating around in his head for a while now; he didn't know why he didn't say it sooner. He broke up with his girlfriend. He wasn't sad but rather relieved. He walked into the shower while his girlfriend packed everything up to leave]

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)

cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)

wc: 1.2k

notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)

previous chapters: part 1

You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.

After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.

You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.

"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."

You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.

You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."

Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.

"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."

"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"

Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."

Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."

"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 

This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.

"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."

You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.

You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.

"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"

He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."

"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."

He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."

You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"

He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"

"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"

He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 

You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.

"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."

"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."

"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."

You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."

"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.

Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.

You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.

Rafe: of course, goodnight

You: goodnight

Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 

As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.

Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.

part 3

likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s. reid

(chapter one, the only exception)

‘I've always lived like this ,keeping a comfortable distance and up until now I had sworn to myself, that I'm content with loneliness, because none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception. You are the only exception’

summary; you never thought you’d find yourself falling in love again, especially not this easily, especially not with the boy from the library.

warnings; fem reader, mentions of bad relationship history, reader is closed off, avoidant!reader, lowkey a friends w benefits situation but its so much more, reader is lowkey so real; fluff!!

taglist; @gghostwriter @iknwreid (it literally wont let me tag anyone else!! Im sorry!!)

1.8k words.

SERIES MASTERLIST

White bed sheets were tousled, there was faint music that could be heard from your radio in the living room, even with the door closed, the air was warm around you, lights turned off, yet the fairy lights twirled around your bed frame left a warm glow across the room that increased the delicacy of the moment.

You admired the boy laying beside you, on his back, eyes up to the ceiling as soft breaths left his parted lips. The warmth of the fairy lights making his skin glow, every small detail further defined, his eyes with a slight gleam, you were unsure if that was from the lights or the intimate moment shared.

“I can feel you staring.” He said, his voice was careful, quiet as if not to ruin the fragile peace in the air. Your eyes didn’t leave his face, despite his words, they remained memorising the details of his side profile, the curve of his nose and jaw, the plush of his lips, the fullness of his eyelashes; every detail committed to a special corner of your mind.

Then his head turned at your lack of response, his eyes meeting yours, then there was a small smile on his face, lips curved upwards, his eyes mirroring your own as he admired you in the gentle lighting. “What is it?” He asked, his voice still so quiet.

Your lips curved upwards as his had a few minutes ago as his eyes stopped their dancing over your features to meet your eyes. “Im just glad, y’know.” You admitted, the same gentleness in your voice. As if this moment would end if you spoke too loudly, to fast, too much.

He shuffled slightly to reposition so he was laying on his side, body turned towards your own. He propped himself up on his elbow, “Me too.” He said, you didn’t have to say what it was you were glad about, he knew. He always knew.

Then his smile widened before he spoke again, “Im glad I didn’t give up when you rejected me the first two times.” He mumbled gently. A breathy laugh left your lips at the memory.

When you met Spencer at the library a whole six months ago, the last thing you had expected was to end up falling for him. Sure, you were attracted to him but you had been attracted to people before. Sure, the way he had rambled about the book you were borrowing had you smiling and listening intently. Sure, when he had asked you if you wanted to get coffee, you had considered it for a moment.

Then you politely declined. You watched his face twitch in disappointment and embarrassment before you had explained it was nothing against him, you just weren’t interested in dating at the moment. You thought that was the end of it when he nodded and said he understood then left with a small smile, and quick sheepish wave.

Then you saw him at the library again two weeks later, you invited him to sit with you because you could feel his eyes on you from across the room. He sat with you in the library for two hours that day, the both of you laughing and rambling about different books you had read.

Spencer was respectful of your decision not to date. He didn’t pry or ask why which you were the most respectful for, but every time he saw you at the library he would sit with you, you two would talk sometimes, sometimes you would just sit together and read silently, he would finish an abundance of books in the time it took you to read one, and for a while you were convinced he didn’t actually read them.

Then he explained his ability and knowledge one day when he noticed you eyeing him weirdly. Then you were both impressed and interested. It felt like a push and pull game when he asked you out again two days later, and you were almost going to say yes. You were almost going to forget about the hurt you had endured in past relationships or how nothing seemed to work out for you. You were almost going to forget about the engraved belief that you just weren’t made to be loved.

Almost.

You rejected him again, but you told him you really enjoyed spending time with him and you would love to be friends. He had accepted and you felt guilty for the first time in a long time for rejecting someone, he was quick to notice that and reassure you he understood your decision and he would love to be your friend.

That friendship was a bliss. He would disappear sometimes, but when you learnt what he did for work it all made sense. You also didn’t really mind the disappearance of who seemed to be your only friend. You had gotten use to being alone, you enjoyed it. You relished in the space you had, the lack of expectation, the lack of chance of getting hurt.

The more time you spent with Spencer the more you realised how amazing he was. The way he spoke, the way his brain worked, the way he treated you and made you feel. You spent a long time in denial of these feelings for him you had grown, because it never ended well.

You didn’t date. You hadn’t for years and that was good, that was easy. You weren’t hurt or disappointed by meaningless flings or relationships ending badly, you didn’t spend your time trying to get over breakups or men who didn’t know the difference between their, there and they’re.

Not dating was easy. It was safe, and it was good. Until you met Spencer and all of those morals seemed to be thrown out the window every time he would smile, or open a door for you, buy you a collection of gifts when he learnt he had missed your birthday.

You had kissed him, one time when you were at his apartment. You hadn’t really even thought about what you were doing, you just knew he looked really good in the warm lighting of his kitchen, placing a tray of baked cupcakes on the stovetop to cool. You just knew that whatever fear you had of relationships didn’t seem so scary when Spencer was around.

He had kissed you back, almost instantly after a brief moment of surprise. His hands cupped your jaw and curled into your hair, his lips pressed desperately against yours as if he had spent his entire life waiting for this moment alone, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Never had you been kissed like that before.

The conversation after the kiss was a blur in your memories. He asked what that meant. You didn’t know how to answer. He took control of the situation, the conversation that seemed too difficult to have and he made it all seem so much easier, he said he liked you, a lot and that if you liked him back at all, then he wanted to explore that.

You had cried when you opened up to him about your fears of relationships. He had almost cried seeing you cry. The girl who seemed so strong, so independent all the time, crying. He felt guilty as if he had made you cry and from that moment on he had promised he would never be the reason for your tears again, unless happy.

He had promised you he wouldn’t hurt you, he rubbed his calloused thumb over the silk of your skin, pushing away the tears that tainted the skin he deemed so pretty. He had promised you could take it slow, that he wanted to take it slow. That this was all on your terms.

Thats how you ended up here, two months after that night, laying in your bed together after a moment so intimate. Not together, not offical. Not yet.

“Me too.” You mumbled back, he smiled at your words.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared on me” He mumbled as his hand reached out to wrap gently around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Like he needed to hold you. He did that a lot, you noticed. His hands were constantly on you in some way, as if he didn’t believe you were real unless he could physically feel you there.

You let out a breathy laugh, “I was thinking about how we met.” You said honestly. It was almost impossible not to be honest to him. His eyes held something that made the words pour out of you before you could help it. He was so sweet, so gentle, so safe. He was everything you thought you’d never have.

He hummed in acknowledgment as his arm wrapped further around your waist, then he shifted so he was burying his face in between your shoulder and neck, the space he spent so much time you wondered if it smelt more like him then you. His lips pressed against the soft skin there before he mumbled, “You were reading a horrible book.”

You let out an infectious string of laughter, you could feel his smile widen against the skin of your neck. “It really wasn’t that bad.” You defended half playfully — but it was, the book was so poorly written at the time you had been frustrated you wasted your time reading it. Now however, you were so glad because it was what insinuated your first conversation with Spencer when he muttered about it being a bad book.

He pressed another soft kiss against your neck, before pulling back and tilting his head up slightly to look at you, “It really was.” He argued, in the same tone. A warm playful smile on his lips. You felt an ache in your heart, the best kind of ache. The one that seemed to happen every-time he smiled at you.

You felt warm in the cheeks when he looked at you like that, like you were something worth looking at. That wasn’t something you had felt before. Nobody had even felt as safe as Spencer did.

You laughed, “It was pretty bad.” You gave in. He nodded enthusiastically in agreement as he leant down to steal a gentle kiss from your lips, before pulling back, he repositioned so he was hovering over you, on his knees in between your thighs, hands pressed into the pillows on either side of your head, caging you in.

You weren't sure if you had ever been in love before. You thought you had, with your ex all those years ago. You thought a hurt like that could only come from from a love so deep. However with the way Spencer was staring down at you, the way he brought one of his hands to brush gentle strays of hair away from your face and then moved his hand under you jaw to tilt your head upwards and kiss you so gently.

Well, if this was what love felt like than you had never been in love before. Not until now. You swore off dating, you swore off falling for someone, you swore off letting another person in, letting another person know you.

Well Spencer was the execption.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

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[sepherinaspoppies]

Only If For A Night (ii/?)

pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

summary: In Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead), she gets forcefully transported to Westeros and meets her favorite book character, Aemond 'One Eye'. She asks and begs for his help to send her back home after realizing this was a world she did not want to live in. Unknowingly to her, her favorite fictional man had already grown too attached to fully let her go.

warnings for this part: physical assault, derogatory behavior, mentions of rape, blood, violence, Aemond sorta unhinged in protection mode lol.

wc: 3,271

series masterlist

my masterlist

pt i

notes: lol so I've decided to make multiple chapters of this series I hope that's okay :)

Chapter 2: Bring Me To Life

When she was a little over the age of six, she remembers when her mama happened to be two hours late to pick her up from elementary school. She stood outside the school gates with her Hello Kitty backpack and her Bratz Dolls lunchbox in hand, waiting until she was the only kid left. 

When she was close to giving up and deciding to walk the fifteen minute walk home, a tall dark haired woman with sunglasses stood in front of her offering her a ride home. She was a bit hesitant at first, the woman was a complete stranger, yet the way she was dressed, elegant with an expensive buttoned green trench coat and a Chanel bag, made her wonder what harm could be done in taking up the kind offer. The woman looked rich enough to adopt a kid of her own and besides she was a woman, just like her mama. 

The woman must have seen the uncertain look in her face, resulting in her pulling out a Paleta Payaso out of her bag and saying she had more in her car if she simply followed. She remembers smiling and nodding, taking the woman’s hand while she unwrapped her favorite candy. 

Mere seconds before getting into the car, she heard her mama call out to her and before she had time to explain, the woman in the green trench coat was gone into thin air. The only trace of her was the chocolate marshmallow candy in her hand…

Don’t take candy from strangers! Her mama warned. Except she did. 

That occurrence that had been stored in her memory was what awoke her. There was a burn in her eyes as the sun’s rays hit directly at them from the window, blinding her vision. She wondered if her abuela intentionally opened up the blinds to get her ready for their usual mile walk around the plaza. 

Except, she received no response after the three times she had called her out. 

Odd. 

She gradually sat upright, wincing at the pain radiating throughout her back. Gods, how long did I sleep for? She mused before releasing a long yawn, stretching out the ache within her muscles. 

Immediately, she feels her stomach drop down to her feet as she takes in her surroundings. All at once she starts to recollect everything that Alyssandra did and said. 

The tea. The blood. The marigolds. The sapphire…

She ponders if all had been some sick cruel joke or a scam to steal some pesos out of her mercado bag. Unfortunately, she had none. Maybe ten pesos which basically converted into sixty cents. Not much could be bought from that. 

“Alyssandra?” She calls out, though it’s proven to be useless. It appeared that the cottage had no other occupants but herself. A series of spewed curses leaves her lips as she but all feels a strain in her back and neck. The saying of laying in a bed of rock, couldn’t be any more truer. 

After a few stretches and rubs to her neck, she begins her search for her belongings: her dress, her mercado bags, and her Fire and Blood book. But to her bewilderment, none of her stuff laid previously on where she saw them last. 

Everything of hers was gone. Or better yet, stolen by that bruja. Including her wallet, her groceries, her shoes, and even her bra and underwear. 

Great. Shoeless and commando it is. 

Without turning back, she exits the rustic cottage and tries to figure out some kind of explanation that didn’t sound implausible in the ears of her abuela. 

Adivina qué abuela, en lugar de tomar un uber fui estúpidamente a la casa de un extraño porque estaba lloviendo. Y una bruja me robó mis cosas y me drogó. Por eso estoy vestida así, sin tus compras y sin zapatos. (Guess what grandma, instead of taking an uber I stupidly went to a stranger 's house since it was raining. And a witchy woman stole my stuff and drugged me. So that's why i'm dressed like this, without your groceries, and without shoes)

The word ‘tonta’ lingered in her head with the same scolding tone as her abuela’s. Yea she was tonta alright. 

She figured with Alyssandra gone and the fact that she thieved her belongings, she sure would not miss a bundle of cempasuchiles from her garden. They were fresh and bright enough for the ofrenda and it was at least something she could bring back after being robbed. 

She uses the small mental notes as a guide to lure her back to the pueblo and halts halfway into the forest depicting two vital things into her surroundings. One, it was daytime without the residual wet smell one would distinguish after it rained. Two, the grass beneath her feet was free from moisture as if it had not rained and stormed one bit. 

Strange.

Instead, she smelled something faint amidst smoke and ash and something else she couldn’t quite identify. She shrugs, maybe someone left out the carne asada on the grill for far too long. (roasted meat)

The bundle of flowers in her hands nearly drops once she fully exits the forest, she expects to see the street that she had taken with Alyssandra but to her puzzlement she is met with an open field of uncut grass and hills that she had never seen before. 

As far as she knew the pueblo only had mountains. For a moment she thinks she took a wrong turn out, but she was certain this was the same very path that she followed Alyssandra to. However, curiosity turns into panic, when she spots a large gothic looking castle in the distance that resembles where a particular vampire, Dracula, lived in. 

Except this castle appeared to be in ruins or decaying and something told her that not only might have the Dracula resided in there but many ghosts as well. 

Where the fuck am I? 

It’s not long until she hears loud hoofs in the nearby distance, galloping closer and closer. She hides between a large tree and some bushes, covering up her mouth to restrain her heavy breathing and panting. 

She peeks through her shoulder, spotting three men high on their horses wearing some sort of armor medieval knights would wear. In the middle of their chests, a green surcoat was worn over their armor, a golden three headed dragon engraved in the center. 

A sigil. 

The marking was vaguely familiar from somewhere. Some place. Something. 

Through the corner of her eye, she sees all three men coming to a sudden halt. Not too far from where she hides, a middle aged man saunters with his head hung low examining thoroughly at the ground. He hums as his eyes find hers over the end of the trail of faint footsteps, giving her a cruel ‘I’ve got you’ tight lipped smile. 

Fuck. 

“Look at what we have here!” She gasps, the man grips her forearm impossibly tight, forcing her out of hiding into the views of the others. “We found ourselves a whore!” He whistles as the others laugh. “She’d be good use to us back at camp. Take her with,” Another man snickers. 

Rage seethes right through her, “No, let me go. I’m not a whore!” She sneers, pushing his hands away from her body as the man snarls and takes a hold of the roots of her hair but she is quick to act as she curls her hand into a fist socking him straight in the side of his nose. 

In that moment, she was thankful for learning such a bold move she mimicked from a Lucha Libre fight her cousins invited her to. (professional wrestling)

The man lets out a painful groan, holding a very bloody nose between his fingers, anger written all over his face. “You fucking bitch,” He hissed, using the back of his hand to slap her so brutally that it sends her directly to the dirt. 

A metallic taste swims around her mouth, no doubt her own blood and looking at the few drops on the grass all but confirms it. She hears the other men laughing and she feels too hazy and shocked by it all to continue to fight. 

“R’ ye done?” The man asks. She knows he is talking to her, and she looks up at him with furry eyes as she spits her blood against the top of his shoes as an answer. 

All four of them rode back in silence. They cut through most of the trees with ease, passing by other knights with the same sigil printed on their chest, circling around a large cliff that hoisted up the ruined castle. Those who were not guarding, hauled lines of other contrarily dressed knights over wagons. Most likely prisoners, she assumed. 

Gerald, whom she came to know as the knight who struck her, kept her securely bound with a knife to her throat as a warning to not try and fight him. She knew it was a foolish move to do so. But at some point, she deliberately pushed herself forward against the knife hoping this all had been some weird dream or hallucination that she could wake from.

But to her frustration, it surely was not.

Every single thing about this seemed odd… How did Alyssandra expect her to find a sapphire in this place? And where exactly had Alyssandra send her to? 

So far, she’d been led astray, drugged, displaced (to put it lightly), insulted and assaulted. And somehow, she knew her journey had only just begun. 

The smell of smoke and ash became more amplified as they barreled further up the cliff. She but all felt like a tiny ant amongst the rubble once the four of them arrived inside the castle’s gates. 

There were five towers in total, she counted, all of them tall but not equally the same height. Erosion was a plausible effect of why the castle was in ruins. However, as she looked closely it was quite clear that it was not caused by natural agents of wind or water but that of fire. 

But what kind of fire melts stone? 

They stopped near the stables, where more men similar to them sat on wooden benches either dining or sharpening their tools. Tents were set up near the most bizarre looking tree she had ever seen. It had eyes with what appeared to be blood pouring out them, leaves that looked like hands waving to her as the branches pendulated.  

“Move,” The guard said after he carried her off the mount. She glanced at her possible options of routes for escape. Not many were good enough for a safe return back to the cottage or better yet the woods. It would be a stupid move to run the way they came, guards guarded the main gates and most of the town.

Her best bet was going through the small hallway opening that led inside the castle itself. Perhaps through there, there might be some kind of exit that was unguarded. 

No.

“Did ye not hear me, whore? Move!” 

She gritted her teeth in fury as Gerald pushed her in the path of the tents. 

All color and emotion drained from her face when she heard it. Screams and cries and small pleadings of ‘no’. Groans, growls, and the slaps of skin echoed right back. 

At that very moment, it hit her that she was overhearing the acts of rape. 

She felt her heart drop down to her stomach. Anger, horror, icy and deep sluiced through her for what these evil and vile men were doing. As she glanced up, tall flagstaffs waving tripartite pale, blue, red, and green on white sigil dresses up in the sky. 

Their clothing…

She wanted so much to hurt them as they did to the women. Perhaps even more. Not a single person attempted to put an end to this and she had a feeling that they wouldn’t either. What kind of place did Alyssandra send her? And why did she choose this one? 

Why Alyssandra?

She swallowed that useless and weak feeling that rested in her throat. If she couldn’t save them, she could have a chance in saving herself. 

She glanced between the small opening and the knights, deciding. If her calculations were correct, she had a sixty percent chance of outrunning them and potentially hiding inside the melted castle. Luckily she was small enough to fit into tiny surfaces. 

The guard shrieked as she stomped heavily on his foot and struck him right in the place she hit him from before. And with the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she broke out in a run before anyone had a chance to seize her. 

By how fast she was running, one would’ve thought she was in the olympics. If her high school gym teacher could see her now. Perhaps she could’ve finally given her an A. 

She saw one corridor unguarded and open and without hesitation, she took it. She glanced behind her, noticing a few men catching up to her and while her feet started to ache she ignored it and continued to run faster. 

Carelessly and unknowingly, she felt the front part of her body collide against cold hard metal, causing whatever she clashed in to move. 

It was then when she saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen. 

Stop. Go. Now. 

Rage sketched in his features at first. Then his eye locked into hers and that rage quickly went away into something she couldn’t quite describe.

Shock? Awe? As if he finally found what he was in search of.  

“It’s you,” He said, his lone violet eye wide and wild as he stumbled backwards, a hand clutching at his chest. 

Me?

She drunk in the rest of his appearance. He was exceptionally tall, the kind of tall where she could already feel a strain in her neck from looking up.

He appeared to be not that much older than her, perhaps around mid twenties the most. His hair, curated into a half up-half down hairstyle, was an angelic type of silver that reached just about the middle of his chest. It looked silky smooth and soft and she fought the urge to run her fingers through it.

A scar covers and paints the left side of his face underneath a leather eyepatch that suits him so well. Something about him feels eerily familiar. She had seen him before but to put a name on him was difficult.  

This definitely was going to bother her.

She watched as he brought a hand to the left side of his chest, about to speak again when the guard from before came, gripping harshly at her forearm. “My Prince, I offer my sincere apologies. She outran us and–” Gerald’s anxious explanation was interrupted by the man as he held up his hand to silence him. 

Prince? 

Of course he’d be a prince. With hair that lucious and shiny and silver— Her lips parted open and her eyes widened in pure realization.

The sigil on the surcoats and on the banners. The black castle where they had taken her.​​..

Holy fucking shit! 

The one and only, Aemond ‘One Eye’ Targaryen, stood directly in front of her.  How was this possible? How could it be? He was just a character. How could he be real? 

Que mierda’s esto? (What the fuck is this?)

His expression shifted and his lone eye darkened, noticing her very sheer attire that left nothing to the imagination to what was underneath. Unfortunately to Aemond, if he could notice the outline of her breasts and hips, so could the eyes of his men. And he could not have that. No. 

Her body was only for his eye to see. No one else. 

So Aemond tore away his crimson cape from his armor, wrapping it delicately around her body, making her skin tingle with shivers. 

“Thank you,” She manages to squeeze out. The top of Aemond’s lip lifted for a millisecond until it disappeared as he took heed of remnants of dried blood in the corner of her lip.

The one eyed prince became enraged, his lips turning into a sneer as his hand gripped tightly at the hilt of his sword. Who had dared to touch what was his? Especially in such a violent way.

“Which one?” Aemond whispered, his voice rough with an edge of unruliness. All she needed was to say the name of the assaulter and he would kill him. 

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Aemond stepped impossibly closer, “Which one did this to you?” He asked again, tone harder as he gently traced his thumb to the swollen flesh of her lip. At her wince, Aemond was readying to kill the entirety of the army. 

It didn’t go by unnoticed by Aemond, the way she shifted uncomfortably against the hands of the guard that was holding her in place.

Him. 

He wanted so much to peel every inch of the man’s skin off his body for all the people of Harrenhal to see or mayhaps sever his fingers and make him eat it. Death by his dragon, Vhagar, was too quick. Aemond knew his dragon had not eaten and his corpse could be something of a light snack. But it all was too easy. He yearned for this man to die a painful death. Even if it meant one less guard for his brother’s army. Aemond abhorred any kind of violence directed towards women. Especially to his one and only. 

“You,” Aemond pointed towards the guard with his finger. “Stand there” Aemond gestured towards the pile of decaying bodies of House Strong. She trembled in horror, her face going pale like the color of her chemise as she saw Aemond swiftly strike the guard right across his face in the same location he had slapped her. 

She heard the man cry his apologies but Aemond was not having any of it. “It’s not me who you should be apologizing to. It’s her,” He pointed his sword towards her. The guard redirected his empty  apologies to her but she stood frightened to say anything. 

“Now which hand was it? The left or the right?” The man didn’t answer for he did not have time to. Aemond’s patience had always been thin, especially now as his one and only was here. 

If she hadn’t thrown up before she did now as all hell broke loose. Two detached arms were added into the pile followed by high pitched screams of the now armless guard crying for mercy from the one eyed prince. 

She should have run from such violence. Gone back to the little cottage from where she came from now that she had the chance to escape. However she was worried what the repercussions might be especially if what she read was true about the one eyed prince being ruthless and merciless. 

What would he do to her? 

Aemond had turned to face his one and only, wanting nothing more to take her up the castle and undress her and make her his now that he found her. To his dismay, he would not do such a thing until they were bound in marriage to one another. And when that day came he would be at her disposal worshiping every inch of her skin like the very image of a Queen she is. 

“Never again,” He whispered before he turned. The guard’s head was separated from his body in the blink of an eye.  

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[ash5monster01]

An Innocent Man

Chapter Nine - The Longest Time 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, mentions of pregnancy, language, super cheesy & lovesick

Summary: Celebrating your wedding Anniversary Steve relishes in the feeling that he will always love you and he never thought he’d get to be so lucky.

word count: 2.1k

Eight ←→ Ten

Masterlist

Spring 1992

But I've gone this far, and it's more than I hoped for

The backyard is dark, the only light coming from the pool and the fairy lights you had put up for the occasion. The party had quieted down, only a few friends and family still hanging around. As Steve sways you around the backyard to Innocent Man by Billy Joel, your chin rests on his shoulder, eyes cast on Dustin who sleeps in the lawn furniture with your daughter in his arms. You’re certain there is nothing more perfect than this moment.

“Do you ever think about how long it’s been since the day we met?” Steve mutters into your hair softly, it raises the hair on your arms, your hold tightening against him.

“It’s only been seven years Steve” you remind him and he chuckles lightly, pulling back to look into your eyes. There’s so much love and you realize there is something more perfect than this moment. Or someone.

“That doesn’t matter, I’ve loved you for the longest time I’ve ever loved anyone. If you said goodbye to me tonight there would still be things left unsaid, love left to be given” and your heart clenches at the sentiment, your love outpouring for him in a new way you never found possible.

“Good thing that would never happen” you tell him in a low whisper, eyes glancing at his lips because if you didn’t kiss him soon you might not survive the rest of the night. Yet as always the boy has so much more to say.

“I’m serious, I don’t think there’s anything left for me but loving you. I’m so inspired by you. Just when I thought my innocence was gone you found me and now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, more happy then I ever thought I’d be” he rants and you smile, happy tears rimming your eyes. What a big sap.

“Happy anniversary to you too Steve” you tell him, arms coming to wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Steve smiles, tightening his grip around your waist. Your guests are long forgotten, the two year wedding anniversary finally becoming about just you two.

“Happy anniversary, now let’s make it a lifetime” he tells you, finally ducking close where you can capture his lips with your own. You kiss him like he’s your only source of oxygen and you hadn’t had a chance to breathe for hours.

“I think the greatest miracle of all is how I needed you and you needed me too” you tell him, thinking about that first day in the record shop. How you had went in search of company, a loneliness buried deep within you that you thought music could cure, and instead Steve did.

“You know I had second thoughts at the start?” Steve admits and your eyes widen as you gasp at him, a bit surprised by this comment.

“Second thoughts?” you question and he laughs, shaking his head as he realizes you have taken it the wrong way.

“I’d just been so hurt before, I had to make sure I held onto my heart. Yet you felt so right and we had gone so far, it ended up being more than I hoped for. So I took my chances and now I know what kind of woman you are” he explains himself and you gaze up at him lovingly, wishing you could go back and tell the younger version of you both how good this would turn out.

“And what kind of woman am I?” you inquire and Steve smiles, squeezing lovingly at your waist.

“Wonderful, romantic, kind, sexy…” he whispers the last part in your ear and your skin crawls, the desire for the party to be over and be up with him in your shared bedroom becoming more and more desperate.

“Nice to know I still got it, even after a baby” you tell him and he grins at you, lustful eyes examining every inch of your face and chest.

“No matter how many babies we have you’ll still be sexy to me baby, you’re more than I could have ever hoped for” Steve tells you earnestly and you giggle, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“Well that’s good to hear” you tell him and Steve furrows his eyebrows together, a suspicious look on his face as he tries to determine the underlying meaning to that sentence.

“Is that supposed to mean something?” he asks and you give the most unconvincing face as you shrug, unable to suppress the wide grin that tugs at the corners of your lips.

“I’m just saying, I may have missed my period” you tell him and his mouth is opening in shock, surprise and excitement filling him all in one go.

“Oh my God you’re serious?” he says, shaking you lightly and you laugh, gripping onto his shoulders to keep balance.

“I haven’t checked, but I’m pretty certain. Especially since you haven’t left me alone since the doctor gave the go ahead” you tell him, an accusing tone that holds no resentment. Before you can even respond Steves arms are wrapping around you and spinning you around.

“Baby, oh my God” he cheers as some of your lingering friends glance at the two of you with confused eyes.

“Shh, be quiet. I don’t want to announce it until I know for sure” you tell him as he sets you back down but it’s far to late, the smile on his face is permanent and the hand he puts on your stomach is the most suspicious of all.

“Okay, but please can we check tonight?” he asks like a little kid, mind already on the pregnancy tests he knows are in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom in your bedroom upstairs. You chuckle before nodding your head.

“Yes we can check” and he’s spinning you around again, just as happy and eager. Yet the moment ends when the soft cries of your daughter reaches your ears. Both of you turn to find Dustin waking up and panic filling his face as he realizes he doesn’t know what to do.

“Shit” he mutters, starting to bounce her in his arms. You giggle as Steve rushes over and saves his young friend from panicking.

“Thanks for watching her Dustin” you tell him as Steve steps inside the house in search of a bottle. Dustin smiles and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the lateness of the night catching up to him.

“Of course, I better get going though. I told Susie I’d call before bed” he mutters, eyes opening to look at you and you smile and rub a hand a long his shoulder.

“Night Dustin, drive safe. I’ll tell Steve you left” you tell him and he nods as he stands to collect his things.

“That’s our cue too, thanks so much for having us” Nancy walks over, wrapping you in her arms and you smile widely against her.

“Of course, anytime” you tell her, waving to Johnathon who stands behind her with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Just like that everyone shuffles out, leaving the backyard from a fun family function when not so long ago it used to be loud music and alcohol. Either way you didn’t really mind, this home and your lives had been evolving for a long time, becoming better and better with each day. After cleaning up a few things you step inside the back door just as Steve descends the stairs, a soft smile on his face as he spots you.

“I got her to go back down” he tells you quietly and you smile, pulling him close to press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Thank you” you tell him and he smiles as he pushes some hair behind your ears, holding you close and keeping your face on display for him.

“Could I convince you to take the pregnancy test now?” he asks quietly and you snort, shaking your head softly at his eagerness.

“Fine, and to think I was about to get laid” you joke and Steve laughs loudly, it bellowing out of him and filling the home. Thank goodness your daughter was a heavy sleeper, just like him.

“Who says you still won’t after?” he asks, following you to the staircase, shamelessly watching the sway of your hips as you climb the stairs. You roll your eyes but continue on your trek anyway to your sahred bedroom. Steve sits on the edge of the bed as you disappear inside the bathroom and dig one of the spare tests out of the medicine cabinet. He can barely sit still as he waits for you to finish, eager to know if he was about to be one step closer to his family of six. You only guranteed him three. Either way he was happy to have another baby in the house.

"Alright we have to wait five minutes and then you"ll have your answer" you tell him as you step out the bathroom and he smiles wide as you approach him. It's no surprise he helps guide you onto his lap, legs straddling either side of him as you draw him close for another kiss.

Steve happily complies, mouth finding your own as he shoves the cardigan off your shoulders and starts tugging at the hem of your shirt. You giggle as he pulls that off as well, breaking your lips from his own as he drags it between you. Five minutes felt like nothing as you both sit here making out like you were teenagers again. You in your bra and Steve's hands wandering anywhere he can get away with. It was moments like these that reminded you how much you really loved him.

"I think it's been more than five minutes" Steve says with a soft laugh, hands gripping your arms as he breaks himself away from you. His excitement outweighing his lust and you roll your eyes as you crawl from his lap anyway and head towards the bathroom to grab the test. His leg bounces fastly as you disappear inside and he can't seem to contain his excitment. In this moment he was praying harder than he ever has.

When you return from the bathroom your expression is unreadable. He watches how you hold the test delicatley in your hands and saunter towards him. When he's positive he can no longer take it, you flip the test his way, a smile cracking wide across your face the same time he sees the prominent two lines in the center of the test. He's off the bed in seconds, cheering as he wraps his arms around you, and spins you in a hug. The test is confirmation enough and pretty soon he'd have another baby boy or girl to love.

"We're having another baby!" he cries out, happy tears pooling in his eyes and you kiss him deeply, loving that you found a man who loved you and this little life you had so much.

"We're having another baby" you confirm and he smiles somehow even wider as you both land on the bed and he hugs you close. He intends to hug you for the longest time, never wanting to let go. Nothing could top this moment, well at least until the baby came.

"I can't believe Laura is going to be a big sister, she'll be two by the time this one arrives" Steve says, his hand cupping your stomach that wasn't even close to showing yet but you let him anyway, loving how happy this made him. Thankful you were the one who could make him this happy. Give him that perfect white picket fence dream that he once felt embarassed to have.

"Two years seems wild but she will be the best big sister, I just know it" you agree, voice a hushed whisper as you duck close to your husband. He smirks, knowing exactly what you were getting at as you nudge your nose against his own.

"Mhmm, I'm gonna love you for the longest time" is all he says before pressing his lips against your own. The hand that was on your stomach slides to your hip and this time Steve hovers above you. Kissing you in a way to convey how much he loves you and how thankful he is for this moment and all the ones before it, even more so for the ones that would come. You don’t answer him with nothing other than a kiss, already dreaming of the next time you get to tell him you're pregant.

Maybe he'll get six after all.

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @notlilyyyy @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila @ellharrington @avobabe87 @newyorkangelbaby

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Six

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour in a semi-public place. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 4.7k

A/N : I think I've finally sorted the tagging issue.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

MASTER LIST

Chapter Six

It felt like you were in a daze, like the night before had just been a fever dream. You’d almost been willing to write it off as a dream before you saw a note in your kitchen from Billy, telling you that the leftovers from dinner had been put in the refrigerator for you. There was no telling if he’d brought them through himself or if he’d had the maid do it, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

After your usual morning routine, you headed to the library to finally return Billy’s copy of Dorian Gray, exchanging it for Jane Eyre, another book that you’d never been allowed to read growing up.

By the time Billy emerged at sunset, you’d finished the leftovers and you were sitting on the sofa, with your nose buried in the book and your stuffed beagle on your lap. You’d even put tonight's blood in his thermal travel mug, hoping to keep it warm for him.

“Good evening,” he said as he joined you on the sofa, eyeing his travel mug before turning his attention to you and smiling all the more when he noticed the stuffed toy. “I hope I’m not interrupting the two of you.”

“Not at all, me and Bill were just reading.”

“Bill?” He laughed. “You can’t call him Bill.”

“But he’s Bill the Beagle,” you told him, biting your lip and trying your damnedest to stifle your own laughter. “It’s too late to change it, he’s used to it now.”

The both of you sat for a moment, trying to fight back the laughter but it didn’t last. You cracked first and, soon enough, the pair of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Just the sound of his laughter had you smiling. It was nice, precious even. It was only then that you realised that you didn’t hear him laugh very often, at least, not properly. He seemed happy, honestly happy with no hint of smugness.

“Is this for me?” He asked, reaching for the mug.

You nodded, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious at how much thought went into the gesture. “I just thought…”

“Thank you,” he offered, obviously sensing your discomfort and not wanting to force you to finish the thought. After taking a slow drink, his attention turned to the book on your lap. “So, what are you reading now?”

“Jane Eyre,” you answered and caught a questioning look from him. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just very... apt.” 

“Is it?

“I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you,” he answered. Then, a beat later, he changed the subject. “I’d like to ask you something; I’m throwing a party here next month, and I’d very much like you to come. It’ll mean taking you for a new dress, of course, but -”

“A new dress?” You repeated, barely keeping up with all the information he was throwing your way. “But I already have so many.”

“I want you to have something special, something you picked for yourself. And it means an evening out of the penthouse,” Billy explained. You didn’t need to answer, he could tell just from the look on your face that you wanted to. “We can go on Wednesday.”

“Okay,” you smiled.

“Great, now that that’s settle, what do you want to do tonight?”

You fell silent, wondering if it was a trick question, if there was an expected answer. It’d be a lie to say that some part of you wasn’t hoping for a repeat of the night before, but you couldn’t say that.

“We could watch something?” You offered and Billy almost seemed taken aback by the simplicity of the suggestion. “Just - you know, because we talked a lot last night and I haven’t exactly done anything interesting today...”

“If that’s what you want to do,” he shrugged.

“We don’t have to, if you’d rather...” you trailed off, cheeks starting to warm.

Billy reached for you, fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “No pressure or expectations, remember?” He told you softly. “If you want to watch a movie, we can watch a movie, okay?”

The only response you could give was a meek nod before quickly excusing yourself. When you returned a couple of minutes later, you had a blanket and a bowl of popcorn, explaining to Billy that they were crucial for a TV night. He nodded while fighting back a laugh and you realised that, while you’d been out of the room, he’d been and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“Why don’t you find us something to watch?”  Billy asked, handing you the remote.

And then began five minutes of mindless scrolling through Netflix, watching trailers, and trying to find something that you’d both enjoy.

“What about this one?” You asked, lingering on Black Sails, a show that caught your attention because it was about pirates and you’d been interested in pirates ever since you’d  secretly read Treasure Island as a child. “It’s a series but... well, we’ve got all year, right? Maybe we could watch TV together more often?”

For a moment, he just looked at you, the smile on his lips growing, like you were offering him far more than the occasional night in front of the TV.

“Okay, let’s watch some pirates,” he agreed, filing the two wine glasses and handing you one of them.

When you’d chosen the show, you’d thought that you’d be able to watch and talk but, within five minutes, you were hooked. 

It wasn’t long before Billy was awkwardly reaching across, trying to steal your popcorn, prompting you to edge closer and closer until you were pressed against his side. You were so caught up in the show that you barely noticed Billy draping his arm around you or the way your head had ended up resting on his shoulder. 

One episode finished and another started, then another. You made little comments to each other, but after the popcorn and wine were gone, you were mostly silent. There was more sex and nudity than you’d expected and you felt your cheeks warm every time. If Billy noticed, he was nice enough not to say anything about it. But, aside from that, you were enjoying it; you were enjoying the whole night. It was nice. And Billy seemed to be enjoying it too.

“Oh, now I see why you’re watching this,” Billy joked when a particularly muscled and shirtless pirate appeared on screen. You pulled a face. “What? He not your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” you confessed, playfully nudging him with your elbow. 

Billy retaliated by nudging you back and things seemed to escalate from there. You gave him a shove and he pushed back, his hand discovering a ticklish spot on your side and, once Billy realised you were ticklish, it was game over. You squealed as he started to tickle you, laughing and pushing against him but, somehow, you ended up on your back with him above you. The tickling continued for a moment, but it soon turned into kissing.

“What is it about you?” he asked softly. “How do you make me want like this?” 

Before you could answer his lips were on yours again, the kiss more eager than the last. He pressed closer, his hips between your thighs, and you soon felt the increasingly familiar press of his erection against you. A soft sound slipped from your lips and into his, your heart hammering in your chest.

“The things I want to do to you,” he muttered, lips pulling from yours to your neck, kissing and sucking, leaving little marks in your skin. “The ways I want you,” he continued. “I’d ruin you. I’d make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

It sounded insane but that didn’t stop you from wanting it, craving it.

Your hips pushed up against his while your fingertips pressed against his spine, holding him against you. A loud moan spilled from your lips when he pressed back, causing your body to tremble, your back arching against him of its own accord.

His head lifted from your neck, his dark eyes looked down at you, his jaw tense. 

“I want to make you mine,” but this time it wasn’t Billy’s voice, it was something closer to the way he’d sounded that night in the kitchen when he’d been hungry.

Every fibre of your being suddenly tensed, your heart stuttered and your breath caught. Your eyes were wide as he leaned to roughly press his lips to yours, his tongue dominating the kiss. His hips pressed down against yours again, grinding his clothed cock against you.

“I want to make you scream my name.” He growled before sinking against your lips again.

The whimper that escaped you next wasn’t one of pleasure, it was shock and, if you were honest, a little bit of fear. But that little sound seemed to be enough to snap Billy out of it.

His lips pulled from yours suddenly, and he buried his face against your neck. He was still and silent for a few seconds. All you could hear was your own panted breaths and the echo of your pounding heart in your ears.

The shock lingered but the fear was quick to dissipate. He’d stopped. You hadn’t even had to ask him to. He’d stopped the moment he realised that you were uncomfortable, even though you could still feel how unfulfilled he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered against your neck, then again; “I’m sorry.”

Your mind was racing, between this and the night in the kitchen, you didn’t know what to think. He’d been hungry that night - at least, that was the excuse you’d given for his behaviour, but now it was starting to seem like it might be something else entirely.

“Are you -” you dared to quietly ask, “- okay?”

“No,” he answered and that one broken syllable shattered your heart.

Without hesitation or pause to think, you started to run your fingers through his hair, wanting to soothe whatever it was inside of him that was hurting. You heard him take an uncomfortable breath, but you didn’t stop. 

After a few minutes, he finally started to relax a little.

“It’s okay,” you muttered. “You didn’t hurt me.”

His head lifted slowly and the look on his face caused your stomach to knot.

“I could have,” he told you, looking almost sick at the thought.

Finally, he moved, pulling away from you and sitting up, his head in his hands. You followed suit, sitting beside him, giving him a moment of silence to think.

But that silence quickly felt deafening and you felt worse for the part you’d played. You hadn’t expected the things he’d said and they’d unsettled you a little, but that was all. You weren’t used to men being so forward and borderline aggressive about their desires. But he’d stopped. He hadn’t done any of the things he said. He hadn’t hurt you. He certainly hadn’t forced you into anything.

“You could hurt me right now,” you stated. “You could’ve hurt me last night, or that night in the kitchen, but you didn’t. And I don’t think you will. I get that I’m fragile and weak, and that worries you, but -”

“I don’t think you’re fragile or weak,” he told you, lifting his head and fixing his gaze on you. “You’re not either of those things.”

It was your turn to drop your gaze, cheeks warming as you shook your head.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, and you did as he asked. “You being here is proof that you’re not

weak. Taking this job, being stuck here with me for a year, there’s nothing weak about any of that.”

Your head shook again. “You don’t understand. You were right, I am running away. I’m here because I wasn’t strong enough to do anything else.”

“Everything you’ve done since you got here - standing up to me, the night you helped me, that was reckless and dangerous. It was brave.” He told you, not giving you a chance to argue. “So, no, it’s not because I think you’re fragile and weak. It’s me, I...” he sighed, “I told you, control is an issue for me.”

Cautiously, you reached for him, taking his hand between yours and holding it tight. 

“I didn’t even have to ask you to stop, Billy,” you told him softly. “You stopped yourself before you took things too far. You were in control. And I - I don’t know, it’s not like I was scared, I’m just not used to things being that... intense.” You watched him swallow awkwardly and decided to cut him off before he could speak. “Why don’t we rewind this episode and finish watching?”

He gave an uncertain grumble and you reached for the remote, winding back the last fifteen minutes of the show, back to the last thing you remembered. Sitting back, you grabbed Bill the Beagle and pulled your blanket back up over your legs, and when Billy finally sat back, you snuggled into his side again. And, eventually, he wrapped his arm around you again.

The rest of the night passed without incident. Your eyes started to close and, for a few minutes, you even drifted off. Billy woke you with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Bedtime, sleepyhead,” he muttered softly, and you reluctantly agreed, stifling a yawn as you got to your feet. “I should see you briefly tomorrow, but I’m needed in the office pretty early.”

Nodding, you headed for your rooms, saying goodnight before leaving him.

True to his word, the next day you saw him at sunset for a few minutes on his way out. On Tuesday, he was almost late leaving because he pulled you into a hot and heavy makeout session in the kitchen that seemed to suggest he was frustrated about not getting to see you. But then Wednesday rolled around, and it was time for Billy to take you dress shopping.

The moment you stepped into the elevator with him, he took your hand in his and kept hold of it all the way down to the parking garage below the building, leading you to his car and opening the door for you. You’d never been in a Rolls Royce before, and you caught Billy smiling as you looked around the car in wonder as your fastened your seatbelt.

It wasn’t a long drive to the dress shop - a large boutique affair, filled with bespoke pieces as well as off-the-rack gowns and dresses. And, while you’d been in fancy dress stores before, you found yourself taken aback. Usually at times like this, you’d have your mother at your side, and she always had an idea of what you were supposed to wear; what colours were acceptable and how much skin a decent woman should show.

“Mr Russo, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” one of the assistants said as she approached.

You watched as she approached Billy and he kissed her cheeks in, what you could only describe as, a Parisian fashion. He introduced you and she took a step back, looking you up and down. Next to her you felt more child than woman - she was obviously a vampire, with perfect skin and hair that fell in natural tight ringlets, framing her face. She was another example of the stunning women who seemed to gravitate around Billy.

But it was her looking at you in an appraising way that really caught you off guard.

“Your pictures really didn’t do you justice,” she remarked and you quickly looked at Billy for clarification. 

“Hannah picked your wardrobe,” he explained.

“Oh.” Suddenly you found yourself looking down, thinking about the outfit you’d put together - jeans, a blouse and boots - wondering what the person who’d chosen all the items thought of how you’d decided to wear them.

“Why don’t you have a look around, see what speaks to you?” Hannah offered.

Billy gave a wave of his hand, indicating for you to do just that and, slowly you started to move towards the racks of dresses. It wasn’t long before you were looking at the sorts of dresses your mother might have picked for you; a-line dresses that showed a hint of your waist and with necklines high enough to cover any and all cleavage. You could practically hear her voice in your head telling you how no respectable man would ever want you if we went around showing too much skin.

While you looked, a bottle of champagne was opened and two glasses were filled; one for you and one for Billy. He kept hold of your glass while you looked around.

You pulled one dress out and looked at it front and back. It was like every other dress you’d had since you’d started to grow into your figure. It felt safe but boring, like it wasn’t really you but what you thought was expected of you. But you weren’t that person anymore - at least, you were trying not to be.

“If you don’t mind me saying, with your figure, I’d suggest something a little more fitted, something with some slink.” Hannah offered.

“Slink?” You repeated, looking at Billy, wondering what he thought.

“I think you’d look lovely in a slinky dress.”

“Can you help me choose?” You asked Hannah. “I don’t know where to even start.”

Rather than the expected look of judgement, Hannah just smiled. “Of course. Why don’t you and Mr Russo go sit down and I’ll put together a collection for you to try.”

“That would be brilliant, thank you Hannah,” Billy answered for you, handing you a glass.

Fifteen minutes later, you were in a fitting room the size of a small bedroom, looking through a whole rail of dresses. You started with a black dress, but hated it the moment it was on, then you half pulled on a short red dress but decided that you couldn’t stand the colour. Then you started to rummage through the rail again.

Your attention was quickly drawn to a  silver number, and finally you understood what Hannah had meant by slink. It had thin spaghetti straps and a neckline that plunged to a couple of inches above your belly button, and a slit running up one side from ankle almost right to your hip. Even the back of the dress hung low. 

You pulled it on and looked at yourself awkwardly in the mirror. Because of the way the dress was cut, you had to remove your bra to get a real idea of how the dress was supposed to look. You stood on tiptoes and turned this way and that, not sure what to think.

“How’s it going?” Billy called from outside.

You stayed silent for a few moments before sighing. “I don’t know,” you called back.

“Need a second opinion?”

You poked your head around the door, the awkward discomfort on your face drawing a sympathetic smile from Billy. He waited a beat before getting to his feet, you felt your cheeks warming as he approached you. You remained hidden behind the door, not sure you wanted him to see.

“I look ridiculous,” you pouted.

“Are you gonna let me see?” He asked, a hint of laughter in his tone. You shook your head and he gently pressed against the door with his hand. “Come on, let me see.”

For a moment more, you held the door in place before finally stepping back and letting the door swing open so he could see you. When he didn’t immediately say something, you took another step back.

“You hate it.”

“What? No, I’m speechless,” he told you, stepping forwards, closing the gap between you. “You look amazing.”

“I feel like a kid playing dress up.”

He kicked the door shut behind him as he stepped into the fitting room, his gaze roving up and down your body. Clearing the distance between you, he placed his hands on your hips, turning you to face towards the mirror.

“Look,” he instructed in a low voice, spoken into your ear, and you did as you were told, looking at your reflection. “You only feel like a kid because that’s how you’ve let people see you. But that’s not what I see. I see a sexy, elegant woman. I see curves and tits that get me hard, and it kills me that you don’t realise how amazing you are.”

His lips pressed to your neck before you could respond and your breath caught, watching your reflections. 

Whether it was his words or the way he was touching you, he made you feel more confident, like you really could wear the dress and not be seen as ridiculous. You pressed against him and felt his cock against your hip, and that felt like all the proof you needed that he meant what he was saying.

His hands began to move, one pressing against your stomach while the other moved to rest over your racing heart. You took a breath, filled with a sort of wanting that only he seemed to bring out in you. Not giving yourself a moment to second guess, you reached behind him, palming his erection through the fabric of his dark jeans.

“Can I -” you started quietly, voice little more than a whisper, cheeks starting to heat. Billy stared at you in the mirror, expectant but patient, letting you find the nerve to finish. “Can I touch you?”

He smirked at you through the mirror as he undid the fastenings of his jeans and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened, watching everything through the mirror because you were too embarrassed to look down. Billy took your hand in his and wrapped it around his shaft, and you started to stroke him slowly. And, when your gaze dropped, you found Billy’s fingers beneath your chin, urging your head up.

“Don’t be shy,” he muttered in your ear, his breath catching as your thumb brushed over the tip of his cock. “See how amazing you look right now, taking what you want?”

You bit your lip, watching his reflection, seeing the way his jaw went slack as his breathing got heavier in your ear. Once he was certain you weren’t going to look away, his hand moved from your chin to your breast, slipping beneath the fabric of the dress. 

“You look so fucking good in this dress,” he groaned, returning his lips to your neck, “so confident and sexy. You’ve got no idea what I want to do to you right now.”

His hand moved, slipping one of the thin straps down your arm, causing the front of the dress to fall, exposing your breast to him. Your hand faltered for a moment, cheeks burning hotter.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he husked in your ear, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror. There was a seriousness about him that sent a shiver down your spine despite the smile on his lips.

Your hand started moving quicker as his cold hand moved to grope you again. And, finally, you started to see it; when you looked at your reflection, you didn’t see the shy, embarrassed girl, you saw the woman who had Billy Russo, desperate and groaning, in the palm of her hand. You felt almost powerful, filled with a kind of confidence you’d never been allowed to feel before, and it was all thanks to Billy.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he grunted, face pressed against your neck. Your hand moved quicker as his body started to tense. “Oh, shit...”

You felt him twitch in your hand and watched him come undone. It was a beautiful sight, even if you did go straight back to feeling embarrassed once it was over.

“Are you going to try any of the others?” He asked, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and straightening the dress, before tucking himself back into his jeans.

“I don’t think I’ll like any of them as much as I like this one.”

“I don’t think I will either,” Billy agreed, smirking at your reflection. “Why don’t you get changed and we’ll have Hannah help you find some shoes.”

You nodded and Billy pressed one more kiss to your neck before pulling away from you. He left to speak to Hannah and, for a moment, you couldn’t even move. You kept your eyes on the mirror and the woman that was staring back at you; was that really you? Could you be the confident woman who took what you wanted? Eventually your gaze dropped, realising that Billy had managed to get cum on the mirror.

That got you moving.

You quickly, but carefully, dropped the dress and started to pull your clothes back on when, suddenly, the door opened and someone stepped in.

“Sorry, I -” you started to speak but stopped the moment she lifted her fingers to her lips.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” she explained in a hushed whisper. “My name is Agent Madani, I’m with Homeland Security, and I believe you’re in danger.”

“What? I -” you took a step back, head shaking. 

“Are you being kept against your will?”

“No, I - it’s my job, I -” you didn’t get to finish.

“Your parents believe that you’ve been kidnapped,” she sounded almost confused at the revelation you were there of your own free will.

“No, I left home. It was my choice,” you told her. “They don’t know I’m here, do they?” Your voice quickly turned frantic, trying to make sense of what was happening. Surely your parents wouldn’t have been able to get Homeland to look for you.

“No, they don’t know yet -”

“Yet? They can’t know at all,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Your parents aren’t why I’m here,” she continued quietly. “Has Russo said anything to you about the other women who’ve worked for him?”

“No, I just know that they quit because they didn’t want to work for him anymore,” you tried to explain, your mind racing.

“Three of them are missing. All presumed dead,” she told you. “Each went to work for Russo and haven’t been seen since.”

“Billy wouldn’t, he’s not -” you stopped abruptly, noticing her eyes finding the mess Billy had left on the mirror and obviously putting the pieces together. When she looked back up, you could barely hold her gaze.

“Have you seen anything suspicious? Has he tried to feed from you without permission?” She asked. “Is he forcing you to sleep with him?”

“No - no, nothing like that. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told her, so confused by everything she was trying to tell you.

“You need to be careful. He can’t know that we’ve had this conversation. He’s dangerous -” a noise outside the fitting room seemed to spook her, “- I’ll be in touch again soon. Don't worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And, then, just as quickly as she’d appeared, she left. 

Your mind was reeling over everything she’d said. It seemed insane, ridiculous. Billy had been nothing but kind to you, nothing but careful and considerate. You couldn’t imagine him hurting anyone. There had to be some other explanation.

You must have been taking too long because, soon enough, Billy appeared at the door again. 

“Are you alright? You’re not having second thoughts about the dress are you?” He asked with that soft smile that caused butterflies in your stomach.

“N-no, sorry... I guess I just got distracted,” you told him, deciding not to mention Madani to him, not knowing how he’d take it.

“Come on,” he offered you his hand, “Hannah’s picked out some shoes for you to look at.”

There was something about him in that moment, something about the way he was smiling at you that made you want to believe the best in him. After all, you’d met monsters before, and Billy Russo just didn’t seem to fit the bill. 

Grabbing the dress, you took his hand and let him lead you across the store to look at shoes. Agent Madani was nowhere to be seen and, for that evening at least, you decided to try and forget all about it. Tomorrow you’d be having lunch with Karen, maybe you’d be able to find out something then. But, in that moment, you were content to hold his hands and look at shoes, trying to forget the stain on an otherwise amazing evening. 

End Note : Dun-dun-duuuuuunnnnnnnn. I have nothing to say because I don't want to potentially spoil what I've got planned. But, yeah, I decided that reader and Billy should watch Black Sails together because it's been showing up on my dash a lot and it's an a+ show if you haven't seen it already.

As always, thanks so much for reading (and also thank you so much for all the new followers) I've really loved all the feedback from this fic and for my last fic, and you've all just been wonderful.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt. (I think I've found a way to get tagging to work properly again, please let me know if it doesn't tag you.)

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[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 9

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

Nine.  九

You wake up the next day certain you will be fired. But when the axe does not fall, you relax slightly, going about your tasks. It occurs to you that maybe you should leave–but you don’t really want to, and only part of that has to do with your fascination with Donaka himself. The coming weeks seem almost normal, and you begin to think that Mr. Mark decided to be a gentleman about it all, and pretend it never happened.

What a fool you are. 

Your first inkling of your idiocy comes when you are called into Mr. Mark’s office, after dinner, when usually you are hanging up your apron and calling it quits for the day. 

You approach his massive carved ebony desk with folded hands, feeling all for like a naughty school girl. Donaka Mark sits behind it, every bit the lord and master of the house. He has discarded his suit jacket, the top buttons of his black dress shirt undone, so handsome it hurts. His eyes are sharp as obsidian knives upon you, and a cold chill runs down your spine as you come to stand beside him, as he directs. 

That is when he produces the colorfully-covered journal you usually keep secreted in your underwear drawer, the little book dwarfed in his hands. Your heart does a swan dive–you hadn’t even realized it was missing. 

He does not seem amused. 

Maybe you can’t blame him. In that book, amidst your more pedestrian musings and accounts of your day, you have detailed every torrid little fantasy your rotten brain ever concocted about this man. Scorching alternate endings to all your encounters in which you were too smart, or too much of a coward to actually see through. Not to mention, the completely fictional bonus scenes too. It’s like an X rated love letter that rambles on for pages and pages and dear lord, it’s in his hands.

He throws the book down on his desk with a clap that makes you jump out of your skin. With narrowed eyes he looks up at you, his voice low and dangerous. "Care to explain this?"

Your mouth makes a perfect ‘o’ of surprise, your blood turning to ice in your veins. A flood of unbearable embarrassment washes through you, and you begin to shake like a leaf. Never in your life have you ever been so mortified, or, so angry, that he has that obviously private book in his hand. 

"How dare you read that?"

Rage flares in Donaka's dark eyes, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he grinds his teeth. 

"How dare I read this filth, written about me, in my house? I have every right."

You are quaking, tears in your eyes. The things you wrote about him in that diary...it’s not all filth. Some of it…is foolishly sweet. And he read it all.  Your chest feels like it's pressed in a vice. You feel like you want to throw up...or just die, there on the rug of his office, rather than speak to him further about this. A timely earthquake would be most appreciated; a fissure in the floor to jump into, quite ideal. 

Donaka takes in your reaction to his intrusion of your privacy with secret pleasure; he knows he's got you right where he wants you, completely at his mercy, humiliated and vulnerable.

He leans back in his chair, his eyes fixed on your face, drinking in your misery. "I read every single word," he delights in telling you.

You look away, utterly unable to meet his eyes. "Congratulations, Sir," you rasp past the lump of sand in your throat.

Donaka can't help the cold smirk that appears on his face as he watches you look away, unable to meet his eyes. The way you address him as "sir" makes a shiver of satisfaction run down his spine.

“I've got to say, I'm impressed. I never would have guessed your imagination was so...vivid. You seem like such a nice girl.”

A shuddering breath escapes you. You’ve resisted him all this time, taking solace instead in writing in your journal. It was better that way. Safer. But this man is not the type to be satisfied with just words on a page. That's why...he runs a billion dollar corporation, and you...sweep floors.

Donaka watches your defeated gesture, savoring it like a fine dessert. 

“Just what did you intend to do with all this?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” you defend immediately. Dear god, you think. Please don’t let this man think I was planning a ‘Tell All’. 

“This is a lot of energy gone into nothing?” 

He doesn’t have to tell you. “It’s just…my journal. To clear my head.”

“Your journal. Of things that never actually happened?” It sounds pretty stupid when he puts it that way–you feel every pound of pressure he puts in that statement, and you think you really just might faint right there beside his desk. “Do you actually get satisfaction out of that?” He sounds genuinely curious.

You close your eyes, so you don’t have to look at his blazing dark stare boring into you as you nod.

“Just give it back, and you never have to see me again.”

He laughs at you, a cruel little chuckle that pierces you to the core. “No, this little treasure is never leaving this house. And you’re not going anywhere.” 

You can do nothing but shake your head, trembling in your very bones. 

“You’re brave in many ways, y/n,” he tells you, fingering the cover of your damning treatise on The Art of Being Creepy About Your Boss. “But in others? Such a coward.” 

It’s the understatement of the century, and you can’t stand it anymore. You turn on your heel to leave–and a grip like iron encircles your wrist, so tight the bones creak. You get your first real taste of how strong this man is, when he jerks you down into his lap like you are a ragdoll made of straw. A yip of a scream escapes you, as he manhandles you like he owns you.

You feel so small, enveloped by his massive frame, his long arms wrapped around you.

"Let's have story time, shall we?" he says with a wicked chuckle, cracking the journal to a random page, and he begins to read the explicit scene you wrote starring the two of you, against the bookshelves, in the library. You can feel his deep, baritone voice vibrating against your skin as he recites, his arm around your waist holding you tight, preventing you from escaping.

“The strength in his hands makes me weak, those veritable paws gripping my thighs and lifting me, the desperate fury of his kiss pressing me back into the shelves so hard there will be linear bruises imprinted upon my skin. Perhaps I will look upon the souvenir tomorrow with equal parts pride and horror, still unsure if I am a victim, or if I welcomed the beast’s ravishment with open arms. Both feel true. The lush wetness between my legs suggests the latter, and as he explores my center with those long, blunt fingers I embrace the prospect of my ruin, bewitched by his skillful touch… Sweetheart, I’m flattered!”

You are dying in your mortification, your face on fire, your every nerve ending aware of this man. You physically cannot stand it, going feral in his arms, squirming in his lap like a fish on a hook, desperate to get away from this hell of your own making. It’s like pushing on a steel wall; he does not give a millimeter up to you. 

"Forget travel writing, I think your calling is the x-rated romance novel," he congratulates you cruelly when you finally go still with exhaustion. And maybe it’s true–you can feel the bulge of his erection pressing into your behind, and fuck if despite your desperation, you start to ache between your thighs, your unhelpful lady parts casting their usual vote for what is undoubtedly a form of suicide.  

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Look how you’re trembling. You’ve tried to deny it all along, but you want me."

"I want you to let me go." You push at his muscle-corded arm around you again, fruitlessly. You haven’t resorted to nails or teeth yet–somehow, you suspect you would not like the result of such an escalation. 

Donaka's grip on you just tightens even more, squeezing the breath from you. “You know…something about reading this makes me think that’s not what you really want.” 

Suddenly he stands, dropping you on his desk hard, tossing the little book away so that he can use two hands to pin you down. You might have screamed, had it not knocked the breath out of you. "I liked your ideas about this desk," he growls, taking your mouth in a punishing kiss, pressing you down into the wooden surface with his full bodyweight, his slender hips wedged between your legs. He kisses you like he means to devour you whole, starting with your mouth. 

This. This is what you expected all along. 

"Please, Donaka–" you plead when you are allowed to draw a breath. But his fingers in your hair control your head, pulling your lips to his again. His kiss is fueled by a fierce, primal hunger, his tongue delving deep into your mouth, seeking and claiming every inch of you as his own. His free hand moves over your body, exploring and caressing every curve and contour, squeezing the soft meat of your bare thigh, sliding under your panties to cup your ass.

"I'm not angry that you wrote the words," he snarls against your cheek. "I'm angry that you dared to deny me, lying to my face while you wanted me all along." His eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense. "Your charade ends tonight."

“But I–”

You whimper as he tugs at your hair, forcing you to meet his eyes again. "No more excuses, you little coward," he snarls. "Did you think you were going to tame me with a potato chip?”

"I wasn't playing with you," you protest, on the edge of tears. "I never meant to hurt you!" 

“Hurt me?” His tone is incredulous, but in that moment it dawns on you that that is indeed the root of his fury. He’d offered you sweetness, at least his version of it, such a rare and unheard of thing for him, damn near showing vulnerability–and you’d denied him. So now…you were getting the stick, and despite the flood of arousal between your legs, you weren’t really sure you liked it all that much. There were no straight lines with this man. Everything was a jagged edge, or a shade of grey. 

"You didn’t hurt me, you infuriated me,” he insists, his lips on your neck. “You knew what I wanted, what I needed, and yet you still dared deny me." He returns to your mouth, his lips hovering just above yours. "You wanted the thrill of bedding the bad man, but none of the blame. That’s fine, bunny. I’ll be your villain.”

At hearing that you renew your struggle, trying to worm out of his grasp.

Donaka's grip on you tightens even more as you writhe, his weight crushing the breath from you, his hips pinning you like a butterfly on a board. There truly is no escaping him like this.  “Give it up," he admonishes, his voice a low, dark rumble. "You wanted me to make you. I read all about it, and I’ll give it to you, sweetheart. I'm not letting you go. Fight me, I like it. Or submit, I like that too. Either way, you're mine tonight."

You’ve known all along that he is a dangerous enigma, and that was why you tried to exorcise your desire for him in words on a page, and not play with fire, not taunt the beast and offer him your tender flesh because you knew you would get bitten. 

But deep down...God, you’d wanted it anyway. You’d wanted to know, just once, what it would be like to bare your throat to a man like Donaka Mark, wondering if he might find you enticing enough, worthy enough, to kiss rather than kill simply because he could. 

“I hate you,” you hiss through your tears, but all you win is his dark laughter. 

“You wish that you hated me, baby. I read all about that too.” He kisses you again, almost tenderly this time, though his hold on you is still bruising. He kisses your cheeks, savoring the wet tracks of your tears. “Don't cry. I’m going to make your wicked little fantasies come true.” 

He kisses you, a deep, punishing lock of lips, and his hand disappears beneath your skirt. When he touches your soaking wet center he smiles against your mouth. You know it is not a nice smile, but still you moan as his thumb circles your clit confidently, as though he knows exactly how to handle you–as though you already belong to him. When he withdraws you watch with horror as he licks his thumb clean, his eyes all for you. 

“Tastes like little liar,” he sighs with narrowed eyes. “But we’re going to fix that.” 

You scream, when he savagely tears open the front of your dress, the black buttons flying to every corner of the room. He ducks to kiss your freshly bared skin, impatiently pulling down the cup of your bra, presenting your mounded flesh for his delectation. When his lips close on your nipple, his tongue flicking, you feel it simultaneously in your throbbing clit. An involuntary moan escapes you, and you know this is the beginning of the end.

“That’s my good girl,” he encourages between ravishing your sensitive flesh, his hips locked against yours. “Tell me all about it.”

“I do hate you.” 

He laughs, a short bark of mirth before kissing you again. You feel him reach down to work his buckle and buttons and zipper, taking himself out with one hand, the other still holding you down. He’s so impatient he simply pushes your panties to the side, his thick tip sinking past your entrance with embarrassingly little resistance, you’re so wet. He growls as he bullies himself inside, lost in the sensation of you, drunk on the heady high of triumph at last.

When you open your mouth to protest he makes the final thrust that fills you completely, tearing a sound from your throat instead that sounds suspiciously like enjoyment. Your head rocks back against the desk as your body adjusts to this delicious invasion.

This is bad. Very bad. But it feels so very good. 

He pauses for a moment to savor it, looking down at you with a smirk, and maybe you invent it out of desperation–but a smoldering warmth in his eyes.

You are so fucked.

“I just knew you’d have the sweetest little pussy.”

He kisses you, moaning in your mouth as he thrusts, losing himself as he wrecks you with his unfairly endowed cock. When his tip hits your cervix you flinch, your body still trying to get away, even while the rest of you has accepted the inevitable. “Too much?”

“Yes,” you hiss, still writhing beneath him.

“Be good then,” he warns you, his voice rough in your ear. “Or I’ll have to punish you.” 

He ducks to your breast again, his tongue wreaking havoc as his thumb slips between you, moving in time with his manhood stretching you to perfection, hitting just the right spot like he was made for you…

“Fuck,” you pant, out of frustration and need and worst of all…the knowledge of absolute defeat. 

You feel him smile against your skin, surrendering to pleasure while he works inside you once more. “Someone’s finally catching on…” 

You let out a growl…but you’re not fighting him anymore, your back arched as you strain for the release that is building in your hips, that maddening promise of euphoria coiled in your loins, the gratification you’ve craved from this man since day one. The tightening of your walls around him wins you another ragged groan, his forehead pressed to your breastbone as he concentrates on making you cum first. A part of you wishes he’d just get off and leave you alone–but he’s not going to do that. There’s no way in hell, you’re in his claws and so you might as well wring every little bit of enjoyment out of it that you can, before you meet your inevitable demise…

“Come on baby,” he coaxes. “Give me what’s mine. From now on, this is where your pleasure comes from, and I intend to keep your schedule full.” 

“This is not–becoming a thing,” you insist, short of breath, because it feels like he’s in your lungs.

He laughs at you, a wicked chuckle that raises your every hair follicle. “No? Do I have to keep you on the edge until you beg me for it, pretty girl? We could do this for days.”

Is it possible, to cum out of spite? You think it might be, as you wrap your legs around his narrow hips in a bid to control the timing of his thrusts. He lets you, caught up in the moment you start participating rather than fighting. You clench upon his perfect cock buried inside you, desperate to indulge yourself before he can torture you by withholding it. 

Your orgasm takes mercy on you, rising to the occasion valiantly. The rapture of it destroys you like a chain explosion, filling your loins before ripping up your spine, hitting so hard you arch and lift him from desk for a few, beautiful moments of ruin. He moans with you, fucking you hard as your needy, turncoat of a cunt milks him, sending him over the edge to spill inside you. He fills you with hot spurts of his essence, his powerful body locked against yours as though to make sure you get every drop. 

For a few long moments he collapses on you, his breathing heavy in the bend of your neck, his lips gentle behind your ear.

“Was that so terrible?” he asks you smugly, sitting up on his elbows to sweep the wisps of your sweat-plastered hair from your forehead. You close your eyes, lulled by the unexpected tenderness in his touch.

“I still hate you,” you sigh unconvincingly.

“Mmm hmm. I can tell. Are you on birth control?”

“Shouldn’t you have asked that beforehand?”

“Don’t be smart, just answer the question.”

You growl, winning that smirk that quickens your heart. He just thinks you’re cute, goddamn him.

“No, I’m not going bear your demon spawn,” you grumble with an eye roll.

“Hmm.” He smirks down at you, his eyes sweeping your face, then lower, and for a terrifying moment you can’t tell if he’s pleased by your preparedness, or contemplating the thought of filling you with his child. The latter scares you more than anything else he’s done so far tonight.

Spitefully you muse, “I kinda wish I had a venereal disease to give you though.” 

Now he narrows his eyes. “Very funny.”

“You’ll find out, I guess...”

He puts his hand over your mouth; it's so big it envelopes the whole lower half of your face.

“Let’s have silence now.” You glare–and you lick his hand, though you don’t make a sound. He looks at it with a frown, then wipes it on your cheek.

“Come on.” He withdraws, righting himself, then you, papers fluttering to the ground as you make your dismount from the desk. Whatever he was working on is surely ruined by sweat…and other bodily fluids. He doesn’t seem to care, for the smug way he smiles at you. 

You might have fallen, if not for his strong arm steadying your shaking limbs. He gives you a moment to find your legs, and as you rest against the solid warmth of his chest, enveloped by the spice of his cologne, you are consumed by the warring urges to kiss him and to hit him. This man. This man could prove to be the death of you through confusion alone. 

He tilts your face up to his, surprisingly gentle now. It’s hard to believe this is the same man from five minutes ago, when he presses his lips to yours. 

You try to button your dress, but it's a lost cause. Maybe it doesn’t matter, because he is pulling you away, towards the door. In the hallway you try to break off in the direction of your room, but he snorts at you, guiding you in the opposite direction with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“I’m not done with you yet, bunny…”

“Donaka…” You only narrowly resist the urge to sob. “You won. Just let me go…” All you want to do is be alone to lick your wounds, and reflect on what the fuck just happened to you. Your thoughts are a complete jumble; you are a walking well-fucked vessel filled with shame and confusion and you hate to admit–total gratification.  It all went by so fast and maybe deep down you wanted it but he just took you and you– 

As though he knows you are trying to pick all this apart and doesn’t intend to give you the chance, Donaka jerks you to him, pulling you into a punishing kiss that melts your bones all over again. You make a small, kittenish sound that betrays your begrudging enjoyment. You swear you feel his smug satisfaction emanating from his pores.

“Don’t you get it yet?” he asks you darkly, a dangerous sparkle in his midnight black eyes. “You’re mine now.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

For what it's worth, I'm sorry and I don't really hate you | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, F - For what it's worth, I'm sorry and I don't really hate you

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

Hello, I'm back with part 6. Sorry it's been a bit of a wait, life gets in the way and makes it hard to write, but here's the next part. I honestly don't know how many chapters this will have because I'm really enjoying writing it, so hey ho, I might even just make this one small fic series of many ideas' I currently have in my head :)

I don't know if this chapter does make much sense at all and non of it's been proof read again, so it could be a bit all over the place but please let me know what you think!

Thank you for all the ongoing support so far, it's overwhelming to see how much that you all love this, and it gives me motivation to continue to write!

My asks are open for anyone to drop me an any ideas' on this fic or anything else that people would like to see be written, however, I am only comfortable writing anything platonic though :)

You're progressing well to get better and you're slowly returning to usual happy, self chaotic self.

TW: angst and mentions of SH, MH, suicide and death.

"So, what's the food in this place like then?" Kyra broke the silence in the room, where all the girls were all crowded in as they came to visit you in the pysch ward of the hospital during the visiting hours.

It had been 46 hours since you had been detained, 46 hours since you all but shouted at Leah that you hated her.

You really did regret it.

You didn't actually mean that though, and you had been feeling terrible about it ever since the words escaped your mouth.

"Seriously, Kyra?" Steph stares at the younger Australian in disbelief.

"What? I'm just trying to make conversation here" Kyra replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Caitlin can't help but snort. "And you decide to start with asking what the foods' like?" she teases the twenty-one-year-old.

"Yeah, cos' I've heard that hopsital food is disgusting and all" Kyra remarks to the older girl, sticking her tongue out at her.

"Very mature" Steph rolls her eyes at the two of them.

"So, what is the food like then?" Vic asks, peeking interest to know the answer.

"Terrible, I think that even Leahs' cooking might be better than what they're serving on the menu here" You can't help but grin cheekily.

"Ouch it must be bad then" Beth joins in with the joke.

"You'd better not let her hear you say outloud or I think she'd been offended" Viv tells you as she can't help but smile slightly, just happy to see you slowly returning to your old self.

"So, she didn't come with you guys then?" You ask as you pull at the sleeves of the hoodie you currently had on.

You don't miss the look that all the girls share with one another. You weren't an idiot to know something was going on.

"Just tell me what's going on" You stare at them all, trying to get an answer out of them.

"She's outside in the waiting room with Lia" Jen admits, exhaling a sigh.

"Oh" Your smile falters at the disappointing news.

"She wanted to come in with us Y/N but it was hard for her" Beth explains on behlf of the blonde, who you miss terribley. "I'm sure when she's ready, she'll come and see you" she adds, trying to keep the hope alive.

You really had messed up with what you said, you doubt that she would want to visit you, nor would she want you to come back to the flat where you lived with her.

"Oh uh, well then that's okay I guess, I mean I don't blame her for not coming cos' what I said was horrible and stuff" You make up an excuse as you find sudden interest with the floor beneath you.

"It's not your fault for being angry, Y/N" Katie pats you on the shoulder.

"How're you feeling now?" Alessia asks, concerned as a way to try and change the subject.

"Is this your way of subtly asking me if I'm going to try and attempt to kill myself again?" You glance around at all of the girls' faces in the room.

"Y/N" Kim shoots you a disapproving look.

"The answers no by the way" You mumble quietly.

"Y/N" Kim repeats again, a bit louder.

"What? You know I like to make dark humour jokes in this type of situation. It's just a coping mechanism" You tell your captain as you hold your hands up in mock-surrender, who continues to look at you with a certain look that makes you back down straightaway. "Alright, okay, I'll tone it down with the death jokes" You mumble, slouching further down in your seat.

"How's she been doing?" Leah stands in the reception area of the hospital and fumbles with her hands, as she speaks to one of the doctors.

"Y/N has making good progress. I think another day or so and she'll be ready to come home" The doctor explains with a kind smile.

"That's great news" Lia says, smiling as she glances at the blonde for her reaction.

Leahs' eyes widen in surprise and smiles slightly. "Yeah, that's good to hear. I'm proud of her making so much progress in such a short space of time" she tells the doctor.

"It is, Y/N/N has really thrown herself into trying to get better, the therapy sessions seem to be going well too" The doctor tells them honestly. "Are you going to go and see her? I'm sure that she'd love to see you" she adds.

The blondes feels apprehensive, her eyes dart over in the direction of where the doors led to the psych ward, where you would be with the rest of the girls that had all visited.

Leah had wanted to as well, she just couldn't find the courage to actually take the steps and dipped out at the last minute.

"I hate you, Leah" The words that you shouted at her, played in her head on a constant loop.

"Uh, I don't know about that. I'm not sure if she's going to want to see me" Leah confesses, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Le, you don't know that" Lia squeezes the blondes' shoulder gently as she tries to reassure her.

"I know that she hates me, Wally. You heard what she said before" Leah replies quietly, shaking her head as she takes another glance towards the doors.

"You know that she didn't mean that, Le. You know she is just a kid with a lot of feelings sometimes" Lia tells the blonde, smiling at her.

Leah looks a bit more apprehensive as she shakes her head. "There was so much hatred in her voice when she said, it felt like she did mean it" she disagrees with her.

"She was angry the other day though, Le and you even said that yourself" Lia reminds the younger girl.

Leah hums as she bites her bottom lip "But what if she doesn't want to see me? I know she's going to be angry with me for leaving her here in this place" she admits to the older girl.

"She's been asking for you every day since she has been here" The doctor pipes in, gently smiling at the two girls.

"Really?" Leah asks, blinking in slight surprise.

"Yes, Y/N has told me about the visits from all of the girls but the only person she mentioned that she actually wants to see is you, Leah" The doctor tells the blonde.

"See?" Lia smiles at Leah and sqeeuzes her shoulder. "I told you that I don't think Y/N could ever hate you or be angry, you know that, Le" she insists.

"I know" Leah bites her bottom lip anxiously, taking another glance at the door ahead. "I just can't help but feel horrible for making the decision and I'm weary incase she resents me for it" she admits, quietly.

The doctor frowns at them both. "I know it must have been hard to be the one to make that call but it was for the right one to give her the best possible chance to get better" They explain.

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself for this, Le. It's what was needed" Lia repeats the doctors words, so to speak.

"Yeah, yeah I know" Leah admits, pulling at the sleeves of her hoodie that she had on.

"You're nervous to see her?" The doctor asks, making the brief observation.

Leah can't help but snort slightly. "That obvious?" she jokes.

"I've been in this job for a while now, it's easy enough to pick up on things like this" The doctor chuckles amusedly. "Regardless of what may have been said, I have a feeling that Y/N will be happy enough to see you" They add in.

"SNAP" You scream loudly as you slam your hand down on the deck of cards that are on the table. "HA! I win!" You cheer in glee.

Kyra let's out a irritated huff while she glares at you. "Why are you so vicious with this game?" she asks.

"I want to win" You smirk and stick your tongue out at her, pulling the deck of cards towards you.

"Kyra, you're literally losing a child" Vic chips in, watching the game amusedly.

"Said child is a menace" Kyra mumbles as she pouts.

"Sucks to be a loser" You can't help but quip as you reshuffle the deck of cards in your hand.

"Room for a couple more visitors?" Leah pokes her head round the door and braces herself for your initial reaction to seeing her.

"LE!" You dart up from your seat and run to the blonde, abandoning the game of cards completely.

All feelings of anger had been swept aside as you were just happy to see her in the room. You thought you'd blown it when you told her that you hated her.

"Hi bubs" Leah instantly embraces you in her arms and kisses the top of your hair. "I've missed you, Y/N/N. I'm so sorry I haven't been to visit you" she apologises.

"S' okay, you're here now" You mumble, burying her head in her chest as you refuse to let go off her.

"Oi I'm here too, you know" Lia jokes playfully, knowing that you would want that moment with just the blonde.

"Yeah, yeah. Hi Wally" You grin cheekily at the older girl before you turn back towards the older blonde girl. "I'm sorry for what I said cos' I didn't mean what I said about hating you, I was angry and upset and I really don't hate you I promise!" You tell her honestly.

"It's okay bubs, I know you were upset and didn't mean it" Leah smiles as she squeezes you a bit more tighter than before, being careful in case she caught any of your bandages on your arms.

Moving to sit down on the now vacant chair, Leah plonks you down on her lap as she keeps her arms wrapped around you tightly since it was apparent you weren't going to let go any time soon but she was okay with how clingy you was after she hadn't seen you in a few days.

"Whats' been going on here then?" Lia looks towards the game that was previously being played.

"We were playing cards, but Kyras' being proper salty because she's loosing now" You grin, sticking your tongue out at the Australian girl.

"How do you even loose at that game?" Steph wonders.

"I didn't know you could even loose at snap" Beth chuckles, amusedly.

"Apparently so" Jen jokes, joining in with the two of them.

Leah can't help but laugh amusedly as she runs her fingers through your hair. "The doctor said that you're making good progress" she tells you.

"Mhm" You mumble, resting your head on her shoulder.

"That's good news!" Vic overhears the conversation as she smiles at you.

"Yeah, that means you'll be able to come home soon enough" Alessia pipes in.

Katie can't help but scoff. "She should've never been here in the first place" she sneers in the direction where Leah is sat.

"Katie" Kim glares at the Irish girl.

"What? It's true!" Katie exclaims in outrage, not backing down from glaring at the blonde. "You and I both know it, we all do! She should've never been here, she should have been at home with people that care about her" she insists.

"It's what was best for her" Leah fires back just as quick.

"Was it?" Katie scowls at her.

"Can you guys please not talk about me like I'm not in the room?" You huff and glance between the two older girls.

"Sorry kid" Katie apologises.

"Sorry bubs" Leah apologises.

"Hey, Y/N/N, it'll be good that you're getting out of hospital soon enough now" Kyra slyly grins at you, looking forward to the pair of you being able to cause mischief in no time.

"Yeah, partners in crime reunited again" You grin at the Aussie girl.

"No, no! Absolutely not!" Steph protests, shaking her head. "It took me at least a week to get the ketchup of the ceiling after the last stunt that you two idiots pulled" She adds.

"I don't know what you're talking about" You try to act innocent as you slyly smirk at Kyra.

"Oh, really? So the baking soda just happened to find it's way inside the ketchup bottle, did it?" Steph narrows her eyes' in the direction of the two of you.

"Maybe" Kyra can't help the shit eating grin on her face.

"I know that look, the pair of you are definitely going to be up to no good" Viv shakes her head.

Jen chuckles in amusement. "You two willl definitely be under a careful watch now incase the next prank gets out of hand" She notes.

"Sure, cos' I'm not going to already be watched like a hawk now anyways, right?" You remark sarcastically, peering up at the older blonde.

"What do you think?" Leah replies back, raising one of her eyebrows.

"You can relax, Le. I'm not going to attempt to kill myself again any time soon" You joke, not realising that now probably isn't the best time to make any type of comment like that.

"Y/N" Kim and Leah both scold you at the same time.

You huff when you realise the pair of them are already ganging up on you and remember that being the baby of the team definitely sucks sometimes.

"What? I'm just saying, I'm not gonna, well unless Leah attempts to try and cook dinner again then it's an easy way out-- Ow! What the fuck?" You continue to make jokes about the situation at hand, jolting in shock when you feel a light pinch on your thigh from said blonde you are sat on.

"Language" Leah states sternly, giving you one of her famous glares.

"That was mean of you to do that! Too soon to make jokes about it then?" You pout and rub your thigh to try and relieve some of the pain. "Yep got it" You add, smiling innocently at the blonde.

"So, I thought you weren't going to come in because it was hard for you?" Katie scoffs at the blonde, deciding to bring the subject up now that you were out of the room, having gone to grab a drink with Jen, Steph and Beth.

"Katie" Viv glances at Katie and exhales a sigh.

"It has been hard Katie" Leah admits, biting her bottom lip.

Katie scoffs again. "Oh? I'm sorry, I'm sure it must have been so hard for you, Leah" she deadpans.

"You don't know how hard it has been, Katie!" Leah shouts loud around the room, attracting a few looks in her direction.

"Wonderful" Steph speaks up first, exhaling a sigh.

"Not again" Beth mumbles, shaking her head.

"They're fighting again, aren't they?" You huff as you walk back towards the room with Jen as you can hear the raised voices from the two girls, who weren't seeing eye to eye now

"I think so" Jen agrees.

"Fantastic" You mumble, slowly walking back into the room.

"Oh? And how do you think it's been for Y/N/N? You made the decision to keep her in here!" Katie continues to argue with the blonde, not afraid to be open about her feelings. "You haven't even visited her once while she's been here" she adds.

The Irish girl really hadn't been happy with the whole decision that had been made but there was nothing that she could do herself to stop it from happening.

It had left a tense atmosphere between the two girls and they'd shared a few cross words ever since.

"It wasn't my choice Katie!" Leah insists, continuing to argue with the fiesty Irish girl.

Katie couldn't help but scoff and roll her eyes. "Sure, but you could have said something to stop it!" she fires back at the blonde, not willing to back down from the argument just yet.

"Girls lets' not do this here" Kim looks between the two of them as she notices you walk back into the room with the older girls.

"Katie, come on, just leave it" Caitlin takes a hold of the girls' hand to try and calm her down.

However, neither of the girls were willing to back down just yet.

They were both just as stubborn as one another sometimes.

"The doctors thought it was best since Y/N/N--" Leahs' words were cut off by you, walking in right at that moment.

"Tried to kill myself, I tried to end my life, and it would have worked if Leah hadn't ran in and stopped me, so everyone thinks keeping me locked up in here it will help to keep me safe"

The room is suddenly so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

Whoops?

"Hey, at least the therapy is somehow helping to help me express my feelings now. Yay" You deadpan, plonking yourself back down on Leahs' lap as you rip open the packet of Haribo Tangfastics you had brought from the hospital shop. "So, does anyone want a sweet?" You offer, like you hadn't just said what you did.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven

summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 5.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.

also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part six | masterlist | part eight

“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.

Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”

“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks. 

“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you. 

“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”

He smirks. 

“And?”

“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time. 

The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good. 

As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction. 

“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time. 

“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.” 

“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment. 

It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze. 

As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand. 

“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned. 

“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”

“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze. 

“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking. 

Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”

You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line. 

You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into. 

“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area. 

“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow. 

This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”

“Jesper!”

“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own. 

You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment. 

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment. 

“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order. 

“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd. 

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans. 

“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly. 

“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way. 

Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:

“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug. 

“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”

It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with. 

“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet. 

“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”

“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously. 

“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins. 

“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response. 

“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.

“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily. 

“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”

It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”

“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”

It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind. 

“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”

Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you. 

He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”

“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his. 

“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.” 

“Skal!”

“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers. 

“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca. 

Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night. 

You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:

“Eye contact?”

“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”

“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand. 

“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet. 

He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time. 

And the more he learns, the more he likes you. 

He really likes you.

Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you. 

“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. 

“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact. 

You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you. 

“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.” 

You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction. 

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

In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had. 

That anyone’s had, really. 

“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear. 

You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good. 

“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully. 

“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you. 

Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss. 

Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:

“Are you hungry?”

You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving. 

“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back. 

“Lead the way.”

Knowing it���ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.

You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.

“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.

But Luca doesn’t answer your question. 

Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy. 

“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time. 

This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now. 

“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk. 

You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.” 

“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is. 

“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”

You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:

“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.” 

You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this. 

“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom. 

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

By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more. 

You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island. 

There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it. 

“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 

“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining. 

“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”

“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.” 

You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.

“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”

Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story. 

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously. 

“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question. 

“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing. 

You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago. 

“Is it okay… if I talk about him?” 

“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.” 

You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca. 

“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”

“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”

“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly. 

“And look at you now.”

“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”

“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes. 

You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol. 

“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time. 

“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes. 

“Mostly?” you question. 

“Yeah um..” he trails off.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.

“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too. 

“Okay,” you say, softly. 

You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once. 

“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours. 

“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”

“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen. 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing. 

“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”

You wait a beat before asking:

“And he never tried to keep in touch?”

“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically. 

“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.” 

“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”

“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it. 

“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.

“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him. 

“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands. 

As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother. 

“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you. 

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him. 

“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms. 

“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily

“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips. 

He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it. 

As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words. 

Permanent. 

Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this: 

If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 

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

As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you. 

The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world. 

Yep, that one. 

You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom. 

“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask. 

He shakes his head, “It���s alright.”

“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed. 

Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him. 

The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’ 

“Morning,” you reply softly. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name. 

“Luca.”

“Yes, love?”

You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated. 

“Touch me.” 

No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration. 

“May I?” he asks cooly.

You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it. 

“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with. 

“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily. 

You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him. 

“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?” 

And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure. 

“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan. 

Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy. 

“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”

“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you. 

The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time. 

“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you. 

You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst. 

It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax. 

“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy. 

And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time. 

“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down. 

You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly. 

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here. 

“Let’s get you some breakfast.”

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

a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION

[ladystoneboobs]

an examination of theon greyjoy's feelings about and (implied) relationship with evil uncle euron

Theon searched for his uncle Euron's Silence. Of that lean and terrible red ship he saw no sign, but his father's Great Kraken was there, her bow ornamented with a grey iron ram in the shape of its namesake. [...] It might be only a caution, now that he thought on it. A defensive move, lest the war spill out across the sea. Old men were cautious by nature. His father was old now, and so too his uncle Victarion, who commanded the Iron Fleet. His uncle Euron was a different song, to be sure, but the Silence did not seem to be in port. It's all for the good, Theon told himself. This way, I shall be able to strike all the more quickly. -Theon I, aCoK

the first we read of euron is in theon's first pov as he searched the harbor at lordsport for euron's ship. no reason is given for singling that ship out nor an initial reaction to its absence. later down the page euron is described as different from balon and victarion, with none of an older man's caution to be expected from him. that's why theon thought it for the best that euron's ship was not in port, though at this point it appears his only concern is being the boldest greyjoy around, commanding the fleet all the more quickly for its already being assembled, and not being outshone by euron. the only hint at more is his description of the ship as "terrible".

"You can marry off your sister," Esgred[Asha] observed, "but not your uncles." "My uncles . . ." Theon's claim took precedence over those of his father's three brothers, but the woman had touched on a sore point nonetheless. In the islands it was scarce unheard of for a strong, ambitious uncle to dispossess a weak nephew of his rights, and usually murder him in the bargain. But I am not weak, Theon told himself, and I mean to be stronger yet by the time my father dies. [...] [Asha-as-Esgred, to Theon:] "Euron Croweye has no lack of cunning, though. I've heard men say terrible things of that one." Theon shifted his seat. "My uncle Euron has not been seen in the islands for close on two years. He may be dead." If so, it might be for the best. Lord Balon's eldest brother had never given up the Old Way, even for a day. His Silence, with its black sails and dark red hull, was infamous in every port from Ibben to Asshai, it was said. -Theon II, aCoK

by theon's next chapter, when he and (unknown, to him) asha discuss their greyjoy uncles, theon has learned that euron hasn't been seen in the iron islands for two years. atp, rather than just noting that euron's not at home, theon has decided it's for the best if he's died somewhere and can never return. the word terrible is again used wrt euron and it's also said that his ship is infamous all over the world. euron is the only greyjoy never to have given up the old way in any sense, and the implied danger to theon is that he could also partake in the old tradition of a strong, ambitious uncle murdering his nephew. euron has thus been establishled as a villain, a threat, and possible kinslayer more specifically but we have yet to learn all the other, more unique aspects of his villainy. i think it likely that grrm, with his gardener-writing, had not yet decided that euron was an incestuous sexual predator. the risk of nepoticide is enough to explain theon's nervous shifting at the mention of euron's cunning and the terrible things said of him, but it could also apply to euron's full characterization only revealed years later in aeron's pov, one of those little half-open seeds gardener-grrm could decide to grow later.

[Robb Stark, to his assembled bannermen and his mother:] "Euron Greyjoy is no man's notion of a king, if half of what Theon said of him was true. Theon is the rightful heir, unless he's dead . . . but Victarion commands the Iron Fleet. I can't believe he would remain at Moat Cailin while Euron Crow's Eye holds the Seastone Chair. He has to go back." -Catelyn V, aSoS

our next clue about theon/euron is not from his own pov but in the book between his arcs when he's "offscreen". i'd say the fact that theon had confided to robb at all about euron is significant, let alone that he related enough things about euron for robb to rhetorically dismiss half of what theon told him and still feel confident of ironborn infighting with euron on the throne. (with theon's status unknown and asha absent from the isles too, euron would have a claim to that throne and a better one than victarion regardless as the eldest surviving greyjoy. vic is the dutiful younger brother who wouldn't normally make any power play, so for robb to know that euron's rule would be challenged by his younger brothers shows he does indeed have insider intel wrt euron.)

this accurate read from robb stands in pretty, ahem, stark contrast to everything theon must have told robb and himself about the likelihood of a robb/balon alliance. an impartial observer who knew (as theon did) that balon's first rebellion was about bringing back the old way more than just independance from the iron throne would have known those goals were not in line with the kitn's cause and that alliance was a no-go from the start. we see in the quoted portion of theon i above how he lied to himself about balon becoming a cautious old man and this being his time in the sun, yet it seems euron was the one family member he couldn't lie to himself about. not only did euron make such an impression on him that theon always remembered him very clearly but the effect was such that amid all his hostage time at wf fantasizing about his return home, he felt the need to tell robb the truth about this one scary relative by confiding in him with multiple stories. (though if euron had sexually abused theon, i can't imagine him ever explicitly revealing that to robb or anyone else.)

"My uncle[Victarion] is never coming back," Reek told them[the ironmen Victarion abandoned at Moat Cailin]. "The kingsmoot crowned his brother Euron, and the Crow's Eye has other wars to fight. You think my uncle values you? He doesn't. You are the ones he left behind to die. He scraped you off the same way he scrapes mud off his boots when he wades ashore." -Reek(/Theon) II, aDwD

this is euron's only name-drop in theon's dance pov, significant only in that it shows theon had recent news of his uncles, enough to know that euron dgaf about keeping balon's northern conquests and had instead drawn vic and the other captains far away. which brings me to ...

Crowfood. Theon remembered. An old man, huge and powerful, with a ruddy face and a shaggy white beard. He had been seated on a garron, clad in the pelt of a gigantic snow bear, its head his hood. Under it he wore a stained white leather eye patch that reminded Theon of his uncle Euron. He'd wanted to rip it off Umber's face, to make certain that underneath was only an empty socket, not a black eye shining with malice. Instead he had whimpered [...] -Theon I, tWoW

here, we have theon meeting a non-bolton northman he's known before, no different really from all the non-bolton northmen inside wf or any others he'd met growing up there, none of whom really seemed to scare him as his captors did, yet the mere sight of mors "crowfood" umber's eye patch is enough to freak theon the fuck out, wanting to rip off the eye patch for reassurance that crowfood was just a regular guy. this is the kind of terror we'd expect wrt ramsay, which would make sense in that regard, as ramsay had been his most immediate abuser, torturing theon in every sense for around a year almost right up until the moment of his escape, and ramsay's still right there in wf, so theon had good reason to still fear recapture by him. euron, though? that's an uncle he hadn't seen in over ten years, who theon knew to be far from wf as seen in the above dance quote, so he had no reason to expect to see him again in that part of westeros and one would think he had enough immediate problems not to worry about someone he hadn't seen in so long. you'd think his pre-ned, pre-ramsay childhood with all the greyjoys would feel a lifetime away with all he'd been through since, esp the reekening. but whatever impression euron left on him was still just as clear and fresh as ever, so that anyone with an eye patch could suddenly make him feel fear of an uncle hundreds of miles and a decade removed from him. from this moment i take away two things: 1) theon will survive stannis and have to meet uncle euron again bc otherwise i don't see the point of grrm throwing this in here and 2) it now feels a helluva lot more likely that theon was another csa victim of euron's bc i don't think this kind of sudden fear could be accounted for with just general scariness from euron. feels more like being triggered by a trauma flashback (just as aeron had as soon as he heard that euron had taken balon's throne), doesn't it? and after having been recently sexually abused by ramsay all that time it makes sense that he'd be even more sensitive to reminders of another abuser as soon as he'd finally escaped ramsay, moreso than when he was just nervously shifting as he and asha vaguely talked of euron's terribleness.

after all, theon/aeron are already linked in the feastdance as both are youngest greyjoy siblings who happen to also be victims of abuse who had buried their old selves in a new identity. aeron's old self even sounds a lot like pre-ramsay theon. theon remembered pre-born-again aeron as the "most amiable of his uncles, feckless and quick to laugh, fond of songs, ale, and women", and aeron described his younger self as "a sack of wine with legs. He would sing, he would dance [...] he would jape and jabber and make mock. He played the pipes, he juggled, he rode horses and could drink more than all the Wynches and the Botleys, and half the Harlaws too." doesn't that sound like the ever-smiling and joking unserious theon we first met, fond of wine and womanizing, once a good dancer, and better ahorse than most ironborn? the only part really missing for theon is aeron's ability to always win literal pissing contests. you'd think being sexually abused by two different evildoers (euron and ramsay) would be enough of a parallel, but this winds preview chapter certainly makes it seem like they also shared the specific experience of being abused by euron in childhood too. our poor youngest kraken really did never have a chance, did he?

shoutout to this post detailing the evidence of theon's sa by ramsay for inspiration. ik i'm not the first to suggest abuse by euron too, but thought it useful to make the case by laying out all the relevant quotes as evidence.

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 4: Lost in history /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: The research for a way to send her back started, but they come to the conclusion that there's only one person that can help them now.

Word Count: 2,1K

Warnings: Just our babygirl Y/N being sad.

Notes: We have some Elriel content and i admit that it feels werid writing about them but soon things will change hehehehe

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

“This is all I have that mentions other worlds.” The red headed female from yesterday's training spoke, her red hair was covered by a blue hoodie, a stone resting peacefully against her forehead. Just like Petrah wore too. 

“Thank you..” She motioned for the female so she could tell her name.

“Gwyneth, but you can call me Gwyn.” She nodded. 

“Thanks, Gwyn.” The female smiled at her, before spinning on her heels and leaving her alone, walking away.

That morning, Rhysand had appeared again, she had to hold herself as she stared at those violet eyes, he wasn’t like Maeve, he already proved that. He had told her that they were already looking for answers, ways of getting her back to her world. She had asked him how she could help, and that’s how she ended down there.

The priestesses walked around in silence, their dresses rustling against the marble floors, books and more books adorned the walls, the smell of dust and parchment filled the cavernous space. Aelin Galathynius would love a library like that one. The two had discovered a common interest in books during the time she spent in Orynth. 

The dream of creating their own book club felt like a very distant memory now. She was rather fond of the Queen, Aelin was just amazing, and she saw her for what she truly was, a survivor, just like Y/N. So young having to deal with all of that, she admired her strength, the courage to wake up everyday and fight for the world she wanted.

She shook her head, thinking about it wouldn’t help, and she would just be sad, more than she already was. So she stuck her nose on the pages and read everything she could about other worlds. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

She closed the last book with an annoyed growl. Nothing. Absolutely nothing helpful on those pages. She wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall, the whole fucking day spent in theories, nothing concrete in how to access those said worlds. 

“Nothing?” A deep voice sounded, she turned her head, Cassian was standing there. “I won’t say we're having much more success than you.” She took a deep breath, getting up and stretching her muscles.

“I sat here for hours and not a single thing was useful. For a library that big, someone would think you have more information than that.” She started to follow the male. 

“Thank you, I've been saying that for centuries.” He led the way towards the endless stairs that would take them back to the surface.

“How old are you exactly?” His head turned to the side just enough so he could see her from his peripheral vision. 

“I’m 539 years old.” She stopped in her tracks. “I know it sounds old for such a young female like you.” He turned fully to her.

“How old do you think I am?” A smile danced on her lips.

“I don’t know, 22?” She then laughed, walking past him, starting to go upstairs to get out of that library. 

“Thank you, but I'm 105.” She explained and Cassian gasped loudly. 

“You’re not.” She nodded her head.

“I am. Witches tend to age very slowly.” She emphasised the world very, and Cassian found himself intrigued. Obviously they also aged slowly, but he didn't imagine the same happened in her world as well. 

The rest of the way was silent, as they made their way towards the House of Wind, as Nesta had introduced yesterday. The house responsible for her warm bath and fresh clothes this morning as well. She had thanked the house quietly, but Azriel had caught the faint whispers, so used to them, thinking it was very sweet of her. 

More people had joined the dinner, the smell of food lingered in the air, conversations floated around and she found herself surrounded by more strangers. A female holding a baby that looked like a younger version of Nesta. A black male with white hair, sitting by the side of a small female with silver eyes and short hair. 

She greeted all of them, introducing herself and waiting for them to do the same. The male was called Varian and Amren was by his side. Feyre and Nyx were High Lady and heir to the night court. They all looked at her with curiosity, everyone seemed to look at her like this lately, even when she was back at her home. 

“So you are the pretty female that the skies blessed us with.” Amren spoke. She reminded her of Lin, with her narrow eyes and deep black hair. 

“Amren, will you keep what I told you in secret, please?” Morrigan exclaimed, sipping on her wine. The smaller female just rolled her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.

“Well, I guess so.” She poked a piece of lamb. Her goblet filled with wine but she craved something else. She craved blood. 

“Hopefully you had more success than us.” Feyre spoke, her sweet voice sounding like a fresh breeze. The baby slept clutched to her chest. Y/N knew she was staring at him, but she didn’t care, her memories drifting to a distant time, where a baby just as tiny as him never had the chance to live, and she paid a bitter price for her actions. 

“I.. hmm…” She cleared her throat, everyone was waiting for an answer, their eyes glued to her. Her scar throbbed with the attention and she had to hold back from flinching with the pain that pulsates on the skin. “No, I have found nothing useful.” She concluded, sipping on the wine, making a frown at the taste, blood tasted way better. 

“Not fond of wine?” Amren mocked, like she knew exactly what she wanted. 

“I just like something a little bit different, that’s all.” She didn’t want to disrespect them in their home, Asterin would be disappointed if she did so. So she downed the wine with the food, pretended to participate in their conversations and watched as the night progressed out of the window.

“We need to check Koschei.” Rhysand spoke, this caught her attention and she started to listen again. “It’s been weeks, we need to know what he’s been up to.” The name caused her blood to run cold, she didn’t know what, but something about this creature left her on alert.

“Who is Koschei?” She asked, their heads turning to her, Rhysand shared a look with his mate, like they were having a silent conversation before he spoke again. 

“He’s a powerful sorcerer bound to a lake.” He started. 

“For now.” Morrigan corrected. 

“Yes, for now. We want to defeat him before he becomes an even bigger problem than he already is.” She studied them, how the whole table felt tense with the conversation, like they were afraid of this thing, something told Y/N that she should feel afraid too. 

“Maybe he knows something.” Nesta started. “He’s from another world as well.”

“What? Do you want to go there and ask him how to open a portal to another world?” Amren mocked and Nesta gave her a hurtful look. 

“No, but maybe we can find a book about him, someone that knows his history or something like that.” She defended herself.

“Nesta is right.” Cassian spoke, hand squeezing her thigh under the table. “We’re already looking for a way to free Vassa, we can ask Lucien to try and help with this too.” 

“That is a great idea. I’ll send him a letter, it’s already time for him to visit us.” Feyre chimed in, her blue eyes sparking with happiness at the thought of seeing Lucien again, it’s been months since he left with the Band of Exiles. “You’re going to love Lucien.” She turned to Y/N.

“If you think so.” Meeting more people, she was so excited for that. With a loud yawn, she excused herself and retired to her room, she had to wake up early to go for a ride on Meraxes, she could hear the winds calling for her.  

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

“I swear there’s nothing going on.” Azriel promised, but Elain still refused to hear him. After their argument the day before, she had come looking for him in the training field, just to find her glued to his back, and Azriel allowing it as she claimed.

“What I saw yesterday would love to disagree with you.” She poked her untouched food, they were in a reserved table on a restaurant across the Rainbow, he just wanted that argument to be over. 

“It was just training, my flower.” He begged, rubbing his hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself, he didn’t know what else he could say to convince her. “You chose me and I chose you, despite everything, that female cannot change that.” 

If he only knew how wrong he was. She looked at him with that spark in her eyes, hands clutching his scarred ones and bringing to her pink lips in a sweet kiss.

“You are right, she’s not better than me and she never will.” His shadows moved as if they disagreed, they were always quiet in Elain’s presence and he never knew why. They didn’t darted towards her like they did with Y/N more times than he could count in the short period she was there.

“Yeah, let’s just eat and go home, please.” He begged and Elain nodded.

The rest of the dinner felt bitter against his lips, his head throbbed and when he rested his hands on her lower back to lead the way home, it felt wrong, so wrong. He swallowed the feelings and kept trying to convince himself that he chose this, this is what he wanted. Three sisters to three brothers or whatever. 

Elain’s hands cupped his cheek, and she lifted her body to the tip of her toes, kissing him lightly on the lips, saying her good night to him, disappearing into her room at the River House. 

He closed the door behind him, flying towards the House of Wind in a starless sky, dark clouds covering the beautiful night. When he landed on the balcony, he slowly stalked towards his room, but his shadows urged him away from it, towards the library. 

From the open arch on the stone wall, he could see her, a tiny nightgown covering her body, some strands falling loose from her braid. A book clutched in hands as she sat against a window, eyes glued to the sky. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” He said, his voice hoarse. She turned to him, those beautiful eyes penetrating his soul. She closed her book.

“There’s a storm coming.” She raised her finger, pointing outside. 

“How do you know?” Stars still littered the sky from where he could see. 

“I can hear it's calling.” Azriel nodded. She had a defeated expression on her face, all he wanted to do was to soothe the furrowed eyebrows and tell her everything would be fine. “Do you think I'll ever find my way home?” Tears glistened in the moonlight, burning her eyes. 

“I don’t know.” He answered with honesty, he didn’t have the answer for that, and as much as he wanted to help her, something inside him didn’t want her to go back. He shushed that part of him, hiding them in the shadows of his heart. 

“I wonder if they miss me.” She looked outside again, ever since Asterin died, she felt like she lost her space in the world, like she didn’t belong anywhere, if she disappeared would anyone notice? Would they find a way to get her back? All those questions and self doubt weighed on her soul, crushing her until she couldn’t breathe. She blinked the tears away. 

“I’m sure they do.” She could hear the pity in his tone, and she hated that, she knew that if she looked at him he would have that look on his face, the one everyone had when they looked at her. Manon, Fenrys, Aelin, Shearah, Elide and all of them, the same pitiful glare reserved just for her. She didn’t want to face that here as well.

So she got up, leaving the book behind and walked past him, as fast as the winds, but his warm hand caught her arm, forcing her to stop. Her head whipped back, eyes locking with his golden ones. 

“I’m so sorry if I offended you.” His voice was gentle, calming.

“I don’t need your pity.” She barked in anger. 

“I wouldn’t dare.” He promised, and she just nodded, freeing herself from his grip, going to her room, locking the door and throwing herself under the blankets. The skin of her arm felt warm where he had touched. And that night, after tossing and tuning for what felt like an eternity, she dreamed about that male again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[unnoticed-poison]

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔! 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚅𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 °【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】°

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

So I forgot I explained the situation in my other yandere fic but not this one so I'll do it now so everyone will know.

The reason some girls are genderbend is because I can't exactly write yaoi or yuri cause of my religion, the most I could do for them is turn them into males so they can be romantic yanderes, hope you guys understand.

Also because I like to write genderbend as well.

The treatment Valentino gives Angel Dust will be mentioned of course, and not all the girls will be genderbend, it depends on how the story will go.

So anyways enjoy the chapter ❣️

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Things were not going so well for Charles at the meeting.

"And then I went ahead and invited her to my place-"

This 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 won't stop babbling about useless stuff and avoiding the topic at hand.

"- I failed to seduce her since she's so oblivious, but I can always try again next time," Adam said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of the rib as he glanced at him. "So what did you do this weekend?"

"Sir." The exterminator standing behind Adam looked less than thrilled while listening to his boss's chattering as well. " There's only a few minutes left for the meeting."

"Really? Oh well, you can start talking then."

Fucking finally.

Charles stood up after clearing his throat, holding up his papers as he started explaining the situation at hand.

"So I'm sure you're well aware of the overpopulation issue we're currently facing, I would like to suggest-"

Adam interrupted him. "OH that's not a problem at all! we're taking care of that just fine, Lute!" He called out as Lute stepped closer to him. "How many demons did you kill this year?"

The exterminator's voice was blunt as he answered. "Got a good 275 sir."

"275!? Badass! Awesome job danger dick." They fist-bumped as he said this, making the demon frown.

They're proud of that..?

"You know those are my people, right..?"

Adam laughed. "Of course! And that's what makes it even better!"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Charles continued. "As I was saying, all our problems will be solved if we rehab those sinners and cleanse all their souls so they can join you guys in heaven and the extermination won't be needed anymore!"

He explained as fast as he could while holding up each paper. " The redeeming process will take place in my hote-"

"That's enough."

Huh?

"But I haven't finished yet-"

"I've heard more than enough, if what you're suggesting is letting those miserable fuckers climb up the ladder then you can forget about it, that's the dumbest idea I've ever heard in my long, loooong life."

"Everyone makes mistakes! They can redeem themselves-"

"They had the chance to do that when they were 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, now that they've earned damnation, it's no one's fault but their own," Lute spoke in a scornful tone, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "And for your information, angels 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 make mistakes."

Charles narrowed his eyes at him in return. " You really think so."

The man smirked. "I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 so."

Adam, visibly annoyed, slammed his hands on the table, making them both stop. "Alright that's enough!"

He rose to his feet and made his way over to Charles until they were standing face to face. " Look here pal, hell is forever and there's nothing, and I mean absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 you can do about it, so I suggest you give up now, and I'll pretend I never heard any of that bullshit."

A sneer of contempt crept over his face as he towered over the boy, he looked too much like his father, just looking at him made him 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬.

"You should consider yourself lucky that damned snake gave you a pardon from the extermination or else you and your hellborn kind would've been dead a long time ago."

Charles could feel his blood boil, his face flushed in rage as he scowled at him.

This damned bastard-

Before he had a chance to respond, the angel suddenly stepped back.

"And now that I've got your and the audience's attention, I would like to announce that we've made a determination!" With a triumphant smirk, Adam turned his head to stare directly at where the camera was.

...?

Confused, Charles turned his head to where Adam was looking.

....

Shit!

There was a camera?!!

How come he didn't notice it!

"-To move up the next extermination."

What?!

"Wait a second that's not-!"

"I can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts, I know the day just finished, but we'll be back in six months!" Taking hold of both the drone and Charles's hand, he sent a menacing smile to the camera. " Enjoy those next few months dear sinners! Cause they might be your last."

Once he said that, he roughly threw them out of the room and returned to his seat while bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Wait!" The demon exclaimed, papers scattered around him as he tried to enter the room again. "Hold on a moment!"

"Now where is my favorite angel-" was the last thing he heard Adam say before the door slammed shut in his face.

......

Frustrated beyond words, his face scrunched up in anger as he slammed his fist into the door.

"Fuck!"

This was not how this was supposed to go!

He made things WORSE.

He then heard a voice come from the small drone.

"Looks like Lucifer's brat fucked things up for us all! What a shocker, I'm sure your father will be 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥."

....

He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his head, feeling defeated.

"Excuse me, are those yours?"

Huh?

Charles lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.

Despite the woman being out of uniform and wearing a simple dress, he was certain that she was one of the angels with the wings and halo.

Moreover, the giant hammer in her hand, still dripping with blood, served as a stark reminder of her rank.

Her other hand was holding the papers he drew at the hotel, with a basket hanging from her wrist.

Was that an egg?

Despite being a little disturbed by the sight, he couldn't help but be drawn by her looks.

She's pretty...

"Sir?"

Charles snapped out of it, a flush spread across his cheeks when he realized he'd been staring too long.

With a sheepish nod, he stood up and brushed off his clothes as he went over to you.

"Oh yeah they're mine!"

With a nod, you extended the papers. "Here you go then." You said, handing him the papers, some were stained with blood.

He looked at the stained papers for a moment before taking them off your hand. "Am.. thanks."

"No problem, have a nice day."

With that being said, you walked past him and towards the room he just got kicked out of.

His eyes followed your back for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh and turning around to leave when he suddenly paused in his tracks.

Wait..

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭?

Perhaps you're the one that arrogant prick was talking about?

𝘍𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦..𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦...

Maybe it wasn't too late yet!

If he could convince you of his project then maybe...

Perhaps you could help change Adam's mind as well!

Or at the very least move the extermination back to once a year like usual.

"Miss! Please wait!"

Turning back, he quickly headed over to you.

Upon hearing that, you paused and turned back to him with a raised brow. "Do you need anything?"

"I'd like to speak with you about something urgent."

You silently glanced back at the door and then back at the blonde, you had arrived just in time to witness him get thrown out by your boss.

So you had a pretty good guess on why he wanted to discuss with you.

"I'm sorry but my boss's words are final, I have no say in them, so whatever you spoke with him about I can't do anything."

That was mostly a lie, but the blonde didn't need to know that.

"Please! I beg you, it will only take a minute."

Gazing at the sheer desperation on the man's face, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

..........

.....

Damnit.

You finally let out a sigh. "Go ahead, I can't promise anything though."

?!

Charles's face lit up with happiness as he gave you a beaming smile.

"Thank you!"

Despite your visible disinterest, the man excitedly explained his entire project to you in detail.

There might be hope to clean up the mess he made after all.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Hope you guys liked the chapter!

I really need to focus back on my Yandere Animation Studios fic, that thing only has the trailer chap posted 😭

Anyways until next time ❣️

[rosesnwater]

Content Warnings and A Lesson From Lore Olympus

As some of you may know, I write a comic, which i occasionally post about here. I'd like to address a conversation around creators and content warnings in this post as well as the general tremd of authors overstating whats happening in their story. I've seen it come up recently in webtoon discourse within my own comic.

So first off, right after my three page prologue I have an authors note that details all the topics my comic will be going into throughout the course of the story.

It follows:

These are ALL the issues I tackle within the comic and I leave it here so people can decide whether they want to continue with the story. I have labeled my story as mature. There is a warning when anyone accesses the comic for the first time on both Webtoons and Tapas. I also have warnings that come in three degrees that I place before each episode that handles one of the mature themes I mention. However, what I don't do is tell the reader what they're going to see before they see it. I don't like doing this for a couple reason, some of the most important being, I think makes the story redundant because it's already explaining what's going to happen and this in turn disrupts the narrative.

I understand why people feel strongly about warnings and making content safe on a platform with a young audience. However, seeing as this is a work I have invested a considerable amount of time in, that I'm offering for people to enjoy (which i enjoy doing), I believe it is important I tell the story in my own way.

When you pick up a book you may get a warning in the synopsis (although I find this is rare) or in other people's online reviews of the book BUT you have to go looking for those reviews. As a creator I can only testify to my own experience, but like novels, comics are stories and in my own work, the story should NOT be bisected by warnings expressly stating what's going to happen in each episode.

I feel this speaks to a general increased uninvolvement in the material readers are reading and a lack of reading comprehension to the point authors think it necessary to guide their audience through their story.

There has been a decent amount of discourse in the UnpopularLoreOlympus reddit thread about readers reading comprehension. It is now common practice to have images like the one bellow before an episode.

On more than one occasion Rachel has put warning paragraphs at the end of her episode stating without any subtext what EXACTLY a character meant during the episode, even though readers would ideally understood the subtext as communicated by the narrative.

And before that she would have warnings signs like this before episodes where the content would be present:

The above warning is actually quite common amongst comics but it should NOT be required by the audience. If an author is doing their job, they'll have the proper box ticked off when submitting their webtoon

SPOILERS FOR MANY WORKS OF FICTION.

No one tells you at the beginning of jane Eyre that there will be violence, death of children, and abuse, let alone where these incidents will occur.

The hunger games won't warn you before the start of a chapter that there will be starvation or gruesome depictions of character death or content describing mental illness.

Most movies will have warning before the whole movie but they won't briefly cut out of the narrative to tell you what's about to happen and people shouldn't expect comic artists to do this either.

As a comic creator i am rellyng upon my audience's discretion to decide on whether or not a story is safe for their consumption. However, I'm adamant in my own work that that's where my required involvement ends.

I will explain things in the comments or answer reader questions, i will be happy doing so because i get to engage with people on something Ive spent hours creating. I will go onto my discord and jump into the deep world building or explain a particular scene, but this should not be required.

Holding authors accountable for going thoroughly over the controversial issues every episode they post is unreasonable and honestly (for me) damaging to the creative work. We end up with situations like lore olympus where authors are there to explain every warning and subtext to the audience without any work on the readers part.

I know this may be controversial to some, but as a creator, it's something that's bothered me for a while and something I think we should be able to talk about in the artistic community.