#I still haven’t seen him yet cause I’m only chapter one

[potatoplace]

my tears ricochet

Azriel x Reader, Azriel x Elain

loml (part one)

Story Summary: Azriel meeting you, his mate, throws a wrench in all of his plans, nearly a decade in the making with Elain. He begins his mateship with you, still with Elain all the while telling you that you are the love of his life. But, not every good thing can last.

Warnings: Suicide (more graphic than first chapter imo), heavy angst, alcoholism, infidelity, sex

Words: ~6.2k

Author's Note: and here's the second part, now I have to warn you, the first one didn't make me cry at all. But this one? I was sobbing like Feyre and Az, typing through my tears. Thank you for all of the love you guys showed to loml, it means so much to me to see every comment and note. I hope you all enjoy the final part!

p.s. I almost named it Last Kiss. Taylor is just perfect for angst, I tell ya

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🩷💙

The wind was rushing through his hair, cooling his body, slightly calming him. But his heart was still racing, his mind panicked.

His mate. He had finally met his mate.

But Elain… they had just started discussing the possibility of having children. And nearly ten years together, ten years of love and comfort.

He’d known this was a possibility, he had just thought it would never happen. That the Mother had made a mistake in not mating him to Elain. But now, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t the love of his life, his sweet, perfect Elain, it was some random woman in the streets of Velaris. Beautiful, yes, but she didn’t hold a flame to Elain’s beauty. Her scent however… a refreshing blend of apples and autumn rain, so overpowering he could hardly smell the air rushing past him, even this far away from her.

He needed to tell Elain. He had to tell her, before he did anything stupid, like turning around and finding the female he had just abandoned in the streets.

They’d discussed what might happen if he ever found his mate, and the possibility of it was why Elain has yet to fully reject the bond with Lucien, though as far as Azriel was aware, the two only saw each other at holiday parties and the occasional family dinner that Lucien attended. They’d decided that if he did find his mate, he would come immediately to Elain and they would talk it through.

So, he flew straight to the townhouse, landing next to Elain where she was kneeling on the grass, tending to her flower garden. “‘Lain,” he started, the tension in his voice causing her to stand up and look at him instantly. “I… I found my mate,” he said, regretting that he even had to say the words.

Tears filled her eyes, and he put his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. “All I did was see her in the street, baby. I left right after and I’m here now.”

Still, she shook her head. “I cannot believe this Azriel. Now?! Now that we’ve decided to try for a family, that’s when you find your mate? This is ridiculous!” Elain vented, and it was truly one of the first times Azriel had seen her angry.

“I know, and I’m so sorry. I wish I would never have seen her, I only love you.”

“You don’t know that you wouldn’t love her,” Elain scoffed. “But you have a decision to make. Are you going to reject the bond.”

Azriel opened his mouth, not quite believing how bold Elain was being. “I don’t know. That’s not exactly a decision to make lightly, Elain. You know that.”

“Oh, really? This again? Just because I haven’t rejected Lucien doesn’t mean that you don’t have to make a decision, Azriel.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow at her, shocked by her hypocrisy. “Then you have one to make as well, Elain. Lucien or I? Which will it be?” Elain opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it. “Exactly. It’s not as easy as you thought, is it?”

Elain sighed, her shoulders slumping forward. “Fine. You can get to know her, if you’d like. But the moment you want it to turn to something more, come find me again. Until then… let’s just continue as normal,” she suggested, pushing up on her tip-toes to give Azriel a kiss on the lips before scrunching her nose. “Ugh, I can smell her on you. Let’s go take a bath, hmm?” She led Azriel by the hand to her room, undressing him as she pushed him towards the bathroom.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

It was two weeks later, and Azriel had prepared himself enough mentally to seek out his mate. It didn’t take long, seeing as two of his shadows had followed her back to her home, reporting to him that she had spent the past fortnight crying herself to sleep and barely leaving the house except for her work.

He flew over to her house, an adorable one bedroom that had a nice porch on the front, and a stained glass door depicting the season of autumn, leaves changing color as they fall from a tree and landing in a pile at the bottom. The pale orange paint on the exterior was faded slightly, chipping away in places, but besides that the home looked well cared for.

He steeled himself, then walked towards that beautiful door, knocking carefully on its surface. It was time to get to know his mate.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

3 Months Later

Elain stared at him, obviously not believing what Azriel just told her as they stood in their shared bedroom.

“You want to be with her?”

Azriel sighed. Truly, he wanted both females to stay in his life, but that was impossibility. “Yes, Elain. I’ve… I’ve fallen for her, over the past few months.”

Elain hissed, her outrage making itself known. “A few months?!” She screeched at him. “You’re going to throw away a decade over a few months?!”

“I’m not… I’m not throwing it away, Elain, this is something I have to do. She’s my mate,” he sighed. He didn’t want to argue with her. “I don’t want you to leave my life, either. But the connection between us… it’s always there. I can feel her all the time, Elain, and I don’t want to do you a disservice by being unfaithful to you in my heart.”

Elain, who up until this point had been glaring at him, looked off into the distance, contemplating.

“So, don’t leave my life,” she stated plainly.

“I… what?” Azriel asked in disbelief.

“Stay in my life, stay with me, and you can have your little mate. Just as long as you know that you come home to me after missions, after anything important. I take precedence over her. And she won’t be welcome at any family gatherings. If they ask about her, say that she’s better suited as a friend.”

She said it all as if it was simple, as if it made sense. So Azriel believed her.

Because that way, he could have the female he’d loved for so long, and he could also have his mate.

It was truly the best of both worlds.

“Alright, Elain. That’s a fair enough deal. Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?” He asked, prowling towards her and grabbing her by the waist.

“Oh, Azzie, I promise I’ll be fine with it. Do I love that you might fuck another female? No, but as long as I can send you to her covered in my scent, I’ll be fine,” Elain purred, running a hand up his chest.

“Oh?” Azriel smirked down at her, taking her face in his hand. “And how will you do that?” He breathed in her ear, kissing her neck gently.

“I have a few ways. Come to the bed and I’ll show you, Azzie.”

Matching grins covered their faces as Azriel picked her up and tossed her gently on the bed.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would tell Y/N that he wanted to be serious.

Tonight, however… tonight he would spend worshipping Elain’s body like the goddess she is deserves.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

5 Years Later

Shit, Azriel thought to himself. Shit shit shit.

He was late. So, very late.

Elain had wanted him to spend the night together, but it was his and Y/N’s fifth anniversary the next morning.

So, he’d left in the middle of the night after his mate’s breathing had evened out, flying off in the direction of the town house. He landed in front of a simpering Elain, obviously pleased with how the night was playing out.

They had spent the night wrapped in each other, falling asleep under the sheets together as the new day dawned upon them.

Azriel had, of course, planned ahead for the possibility of sleeping in a bit too long to return home before his mate awoken, a bouquet of roses, sapphire blue for him and a pale yellow for his sweet, sunshiney mate, and love note on the nightstand. He’d also left out a coffee and book he’d spent an agonizing amount of time convincing his mate’s favorite author to give him in advance of the commercial release on the kitchen counter. He hadn’t thought that he’d be so late though, the sun having risen nearly to the halfway point in the sky.

He only hoped his mate wouldn’t scent Elain’s arousal, still mixed heavily with his scent. She had never said anything in the past, and he believed she wouldn’t now.

With the speed he was flying towards her house, most of it should be whisked off of him by the time he reached her.

Once he landed, he made sure to take a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open, greeted by his mate’s lovely scent, coming from the window seat to the right of the door.

You ran to him, and he greeted you with his arms first, the weight of you so perfect in his arms, as though the two of you were carved out of the same flesh, finally put back together for the moment.

The day was perfect, ending with the two of you snuggled together in bed.

The dagger you had gifted him was perfect, ornate enough to be worn on his belt during ceremonies, and the curved blade had fascinated him at first. He realized that you had meant it more as a way to keep you with him on his missions, rather than to do much killing. Though, it would make some wicked stab wounds, possibly helpful in interrogations. However, he didn’t think he could bear using something so precious as a gift from you during the… messier parts of his occupation.

Nonetheless, it was a perfect, thoughtful gift, and he loved it, loved you so deeply.

He sighed.

It was nights like these when his conscious kicked in, reminding him of the traitorous double life he was living. Sure, Elain was well aware of the situation, maybe not of the depth of his emotions towards you, but that wasn’t something she needed to know.

You, however… you were completely in the dark, unaware that the best friend he went on about is really his life partner of a decade and a half.

He felt so guilty, but he didn’t know how to stop, with either one of you. Elain, they had so much history and you, well, you are his mate, the person the Mother had made just for him.

He breathed in your scent, his mind relaxing as he did so. Azriel reminded himself that he still had six years left before he needed to make a true decision between the two perfect females.

Six years didn’t feel like near enough time, it felt almost cruel that he had to limit himself to a decade until he made a decision about the mating bond. He supposed Elain didn’t know that detail, either.

And now that you wanted to meet his family… well. That decision may end up coming sooner rather than later.

It all depended on how he swung it.

He knew that Elain would be difficult to convince, but he believed he would be able to. His plan was to inform the family to not make any comments about his and Elain’s relationship, and tell them that you knew about them but are still very sensitive to the subject, preferring to avoid it overall. They already knew that the you and Azriel are “friends,” Azriel having been unable to keep you a complete secret from his nosy family.

Azriel had to make it happen, or you would know something is off.

He was lucky, all things considered, that you had waited five years to ask to meet his family.

The next morning after a nice lie-in with you, he took off for the townhouse, ready to rip the gauze off. He approached Elain, in the gardens as she normally was this time of day, working on the garden before the heat climbed up too high.

“Elain, can we talk in our room?” He asked her, relieved when she followed him without question.

“What is it?” She questioned, knowing he was here with a purpose.

“Y/N wants to meet the family.”

Elain immediately started to shake her head, infuriated by the idea. “No. No, Azriel! We agreed that she would not enter our lives before you started this, that won’t change now.”

“Baby, it would just be one dinner, I will tell her not to show any affection towards me, and her curiosity will be satisfied, I promise.”

Elain thought about it for a moment, her face still pinched in anger, before it relaxed in resignation. “If this dinner is to happen, you will fuck me in this very room while she sits in the living room. If not, my answer is no, Azriel.”

Azriel considered it, the nodded, knowing it was his only way forward. And, he couldn’t deny that the thought of fucking Elain with you in the next room excited him, the riskiness of it so tempting.

“Then, inform the rest of the family. Tell them whatever you need to to keep your silly little relationship with your mate a secret. I will not be embarrassed by this, Azriel,” Elain warned, a danger in her eyes.

“Thank you, Elain.” He moved in towards her, and whispered lowly in her ear, “The sex we will have in here on that night will rival every other time we’ve been together, baby.” A shiver ran down Elain’s spine, and she wrapped her arms around him.

“It better, Azzie. Otherwise I just might crush her heart myself,” She said in a sweet tone, but Azriel took it as the threat it was.

Still, as long as everything went to plan, he will keep his two females as his, for years to come.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

The dinner went perfectly, Y/N feeling insecure, while it pained him, truly worked out for the better. The less comfortable that first meeting had felt, the less likely she was to insist on attending another family dinner.

Over the next few months, he could tell you were preparing something, most likely some kind of surprise for his birthday. Every year, you outdid yourself. When he was in town- or rather, not with Elain- you would wake him up with his favorite pastries from his favorite café, or his favorite dish from Kalia’s, a wonderful little breakfast restaurant located along the Sidra. And every year, you gave him a different custom made item, from the spider silk gloves that were fire and tear proof to the fortified, comfortable boots that he wore to this day.

During that time as well, Elain was becoming bolder with her requests of his time, drawing him away most nights after you fell asleep, only to return a few hours later, slipping back into your bed with jasmine and honey coating his senses.

That didn’t matter though, not when he was more enamored with you than ever. You were so kind, so focused on his happiness, he hardly deserved the honor of being your mate. The guilt of the situation had been weighing on him heavily, especially when he had felt you measuring his ring finger while you believed him to be dead asleep.

He was nearly ready to cut things off with Elain, her attitude as of late was bitter and angry, and while he avoided bringing you up around her, every time he did she said something condescending about you. The only problem was their history with each other, so many years that they had been together, and realized that he would be throwing it away, there was no way that Elain would ever be fine only being his friend, and seeing you near her family. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Elain attempted to take your life, her hatred of you ran that deeply.

He’d realized things were getting to dangerous territory when you had come back to your house, gushing to Azriel about how you and Elain might be becoming friends, and how you could see why Azriel liked her so much, she’s just so nice.

It was the day before his birthday now, and he had just returned to your home when you burst through the doors, bags filling your arms.

“Azriel!” You exclaimed, quickly walking over to the counter to deposit the bags, then made your way to your mate. You leaned up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. “Listen, I know this will sound a little weird, but I’d like you to stay at your spare room in the townhouse tonight, if you’re willing. I want to set up a little surprise for you here,” you tell him, a smile gracing your face, and a matching expression lit up his face. “I’ll come get you in the morning, around 9 if that sounds reasonable to you?”

“Of course, babydoll,” he replied, claiming your mouth again in kiss more heated than the last. “Do I have to leave at this very moment?”

You hummed, your body relaxing against him as he kissed down your neck. “No, not yet, mate. You can stick around for a while.”

“Hmm, so I can take my sweet, thoughtful mate into our bedroom and devour her like the goddess she is?” He asked, already lifting you by your ass, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips.

“I’d love that, Az,” you say, peppering kisses along his jawline as he carried you to the bed.

He left a few hours later, walking back to the townhouse at a slow pace, reminiscing on the feeling of your skin and soft sighs, how much he was looking forward to whatever you’re planning for tomorrow.

He entered the townhouse a few minutes later, breezing into his room that he shares with Elain. She was inside, already naked on the bed and touching herself.

“Oh, Azzie, I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, pouncing towards him the moment the door snicked shut behind him. Once she reached him, though, she wrinkled her nose. “Let’s go get you in the bath, Azzie, I don’t want to kiss you while you smell so gross.” Elain pushed him towards the bath, where they spent a good hour basking in each other’s presence before making their way to the bed. They remained there until dinner, getting a quick meal from the kitchen before returning to the haven.

The night passed quickly, and Elain woke him by sucking his cock to life, the climbing on top of him. She rode him at a slow, torturous pace for a few minutes, before he tired her teasing and flipped her onto her back, continuing their activities, even as the door to their room opened wide, a gasp sounding from the doorway, and Elain’s arms wrapped tighter around his neck, legs wrapping around his hips, pressing his lower half tighter against her.

The scent hit him- autumnal rain and sweet apples- and his blood ran cold. He wanted to run, wanted to explain to you, but the grip of Elain’s heavenly cunt was too much, and he finished inside of her, pulling out as soon as he was able to.

His eyes were wide, he could barely process the situation, he tried to sit up and look at the doorway, but Elain’s grip around his neck was tighter than he expected. She was grinning from ear to ear, looking positively pleased with herself.

“Elain, I need to go talk to her,” he stated frantically, still attempting to pull away from her gently. He could hear her yelling outside, Feyre’s soft voice following it.

“No, you don’t Azriel. She just saw you cheating on her, she’ll want nothing to do with you now,” Elain declared proudly.

Azriel furrowed his brow at her, a sinking feeling in his gut, and he looked at the clock- only 8 in the morning. “Did you know she was going to show up this early?” He questioned, hoping the answer was no. If it was yes…

“Of course, it was my idea to have you stay here last night.” Her voice held no remorse, and Azriel pried her hands from his neck and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed.

He placed his head in his hands, panic overtaking his mind.

His mate… his sweet, kind, caring, attentive mate… had just seen him fucking Elain, her supposed friend. Fuck. This is bad.

He got up, throwing on a pair of leathers as quickly as he could, before Elain’s hand caught his.

“You’re seriously going after her? What the fuck is wrong with you, Azriel?!” She yelled at him, before Feyre’s voice cut through.

“What in the hells is wrong with you, Azriel?! You’re not only cheating on Elain, but Y/N didn’t even know the two of you were together?! How could you do that to your mate?!”

Elain’s anger was one thing, more unsettling than anything else, but Feyre’s? Feyre’s rage was terrifying, and Azriel had the common sense to cower as night coalesced around her.

It was then that he noticed his shadows had left him, and he could still hear them screaming about Y/N from wherever they had ran to.

“Feyre, I know how bad it seems, but I never meant for her to get hurt. And Elain knew about my relationship with her, I wouldn’t have gone ahead with it without her approval,” he said, trying to get the truth out before Feyre eviscerated him.

Elain scoffed, grabbing her nightgown from the floor next to their bed.

Azriel turned to cock a brow at her, daring her to voice whatever was rattling around in her head.

“You should have cut her sorry ass off years ago, Azzie. She’s not worthy of you, she never has been, and she never will be,” Elain spat at him, just as his gut fell through the floor and to the core of the earth.

The bond- the precious, delicate string tying you to him- severed in a single moment.

He dropped to his knees, a wail leaving his body of its own accord, the grief striking him in every nerve ending of his body as your presence left him, as he was left with a gaping hole in his soul that you used to occupy.

“Azriel?” Feyre called frantically, shaking him by the shoulders, but he could do nothing more than to loose gut wrenching cries of pain at the loss of his mate.

Rhys appeared a moment later, diving into his mind with a gentleness he did not deserve.

“Y/N…” he sighed, a tear rolling down his face. “She’s died.”

“Died?!” Feyre exclaimed. “She was just in the garden fifteen minutes ago, how could she have-?” She cut herself off, realizing exactly what happened. “Rhys, get her address from him.”

He did as she said, and she bolted away, leaving Rhys, Elain, and Azriel in the room.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

Feyre

She sprinted through the streets, making her way to the area that Rhys said your house was located in. It was orange, with a stained glass door according to Azriel’s memories.

Feyre still couldn’t believe what he had done, how he had betrayed his mate.

You was awkward at times, yes, and a little shy, but you were so sweet and it was obvious to Feyre how much you cared for Azriel- obviously not the way you cared for him, but the amount was there, always shining through your actions.

Once Feyre arrived at your house, she stopped to stare at it for a moment. The light orange and pretty stained glass window suited you, calming in nature and gave off a similar presence’s to the autumnal scent you gave off. She prepared herself as she approached the door, taking a few deep breaths before turning the knob.

Feyre still wasn’t prepared for the sight before her.

You were laying in a pool of blood- your blood- and covered in Azriel’s shadows. She rushed forward, and the shadows moved away from your neck, revealing the large gash there. A dagger was in your hands, and Feyre sobbed, pawing at your neck in an attempt to make the bleeding stop somehow, even as she could hear no heartbeat, no breathing coming from your chest.

The wound was hardly seeping anything as it was, but Feyre couldn’t believe it. You didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to leave so alone, so in pain.

Her tears fell on your body, and after a few moments she pulled your head into her lap, and recited the prayer she had learned all that time ago, back in Spring.

“Mother hold you. May you pass through the gates. May you smell that immortal land of milk and honey,” she finished. She whispered a final, added phrase. “May your next life be kinder to you, Y/N.”

Feyre stood, reaching out to Rhys through her mind.

“How is Az?”

Rhys sighed. “He’s not doing well, we haven’t been able to move him or get him to do anything cry cry,” he admitted, worrying in his tone. “How’s… how is Y/N?”

“She’s gone, Rhys. She took her own life,” Feyre cried through the bond. “Can you or Cassian come and help me move her to Madja’s office? We should… we should have her prepared for a funeral as soon as we can.”

“Of course, darling, I’ll send Cassian to help you. I’d like to be with Az in case he needs to be knocked out for his own good.”

Cassian arrived a few agonizing minutes later, and after stumbling into the house, stopped and gasped in horror. “Y/N!” He cried, moving quickly towards where Feyre was stood next to your cooling body.

“I know, Cassian. It’s awful, she didn’t deserve any of this,” Feyre said sadly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “We need to move her, though.”

Cassian nodded and stooped over, collecting your limp body in his arms. The shadows were still gathered around your body, hiding as much of you from view as possible. They shifted just right, though, and Feyre caught sight of the knife belt resting upon your hips, tightened so much that she knew the belt was meant as a gift, having seen the dropped bags outside of Azriel’s door when she went to confront him.

She carefully pulled the belt of off you, noticing that the dagger you had used… matched the ones still secured in the belt.

You had used the gift you most likely intended for Azriel, to end your life. That hurt Feyre’s heart even more.

The two of them walked somberly towards Madja’s office, stares lingering on them and the body covered in shadows and held in Cassian’s arms.

They arrived in a few minutes, and Cassian gently set your body down on a stretcher Madja’s had set up in the back, the shadows still clinging relentlessly to your body, refusing to leave you even in death. Madja’s soft smile greets the both of them when they turn around.

“Rhys told me what happened, he said to prepare the body as soon as possible, is that correct?”

Feyre nodded in agreement, “Yes, just let us know when she is ready for the funeral, please, Madja.

“Of course Feyre. I’ll contact you once it’s done.”

With that, the two left the clinic, heading back toward your home to clean it up as much as they could.

💙🤍💙🩷💙

Azriel

His world was shattered. He watched as your coffin was lowered into the ground only two days after his birthday, the sky bright and sunny, just how you always loved it. But Azriel could barely stand in its rays, so overtaken with grief and rage at himself.

He had found the box among the remains of the presents you dropped at his door when you saw him fucking- he couldn’t even bear to think her name anymore.

The two rings, so perfectly Azriel that it made him sob harder than before.

You had always known exactly how to design something to scream his name, always known what he would prefer to have as a gift.

Azriel had wanted to place the ring made for your fingers on you before you were buried, but he couldn’t bear to sully your… your corpse with his hands.

He also didn’t deserve to have a ring matching one that you wear in your grave, he had betrayed you so thoroughly. So he kept the both of them.

Time passed so slowly now.

It was like the world had stopped moving once you passed, the broken tether to your soul holding him in place, not allowing him to move past the moment of your death.

He left the rings in his nightstand, pulling the box out when the pain became too much to bear. He had purchased your home, finally moving all of his things in, like he should have while you were alive.

Even though your life had ended here, he felt closest to you inside the four walls where your relationship had blossomed, bringing you out of your shy, anxious, and adorable little shell.

Azriel barely left the house anymore, only leaving when his family forced him, or the hunger in his stomach became unbearable enough that he ventured out to your favorite restaurant and ordered your favorite dish, just one more way to get any semblance of closeness to you again.

The first six months since your passing were hell. Absolute hell.

The broken string within him chafed with every breath, only subsiding when he drowned himself in vodka enough that he couldn’t see straight, passing out into an oblivion where you still existed, where his heart still beat your name happily, not in the overwhelming loss that had made it lose its rhythm.

His family had dragged him out tonight into their townhome, insisting that they hadn’t seen him in so long and they needed to get together.

He was feeling an extra pain, today. It was the anniversary of the beginning of your mateship. It would have been the sixth, if you were still here.

So, he strung the two rings on a silver chain, looping it over his head and wearing it over the top of his jacket. With them on, he felt like your presence was with him. One of the few remaining things he owned of you.

Feyre had given him the knife belt a month after your funeral, and he had promptly shoved it into the lowest drawer of the dresser. He knew, he just knew that one of those knives had been the end of you-

But that wasn’t true.

He was the end of you.

Azriel sighed. That train of thought wouldn’t make getting through this night easier. One thing might, however.

He stood up from the couch he was seated on and made his way over to the drink cart, pouring a generous amount of vodka into a crystal glass.

You had commented on the glasses your second dinner here, admiring the way they caught the light.

Tears burned at his eyes, and he downed half of the glass in one gulp, the burn distracting him enough that he didn’t jump when Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, brother. Will you be coming to the training ring again soon?” He asked, his tone gentle.

“We’ll see, Cassian,” Azriel answered, the one that he had given Cassian the past four times he had dared to ask the Shadowsinger.

“Okay, hopefully sometime soon. Or we could go out for a meal, just the two of us, hm? Just like the old days when we were stuck here, it could be fun,” Cassian suggested, and Azriel nodded in agreement just to get him to stop asking.

Cassian walked away, and Azriel could see him making a pointed expression at Feyre, probably urging her to come talk to him. He downed the rest of his drink, and poured another of the same amount.

By the time he had sat back down on the couch, Feyre was joining him.

She didn’t say anything, just sat with him as he sipped on his drink, relishing in the burn it carved through him.

They sat like that for a few minutes before Azriel’s left hand crept out, grasping Feyre’s right. The tears that had burned his eyes for six months, six long months of drinking himself to sleep as the tear in his soul grew, consuming him whole, had begun to fall, carving lines into his skin. Feyre’s hand squeezed his, and when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she thankfully had her eyes turned away from him, giving him the privacy he needed.

A minute or an hour could have passed before Azriel stood abruptly, making for the front door. He burst through it, tears still streaming down his face as he walked home as quickly as he could, the alcohol doing more to him now that he had lost weight from so many skipped meals. He could hear footsteps behind him, and if he dared enough it bet on anything anymore, he would say it’s Feyre.

She had told him at the funeral how guilty she felt for not realizing that Y/N was a danger to herself, but Azriel had brushed her off, telling her it was no one’s fault but his own.

Azriel knew she still carried it, though.

“I don’t need a minder, Feyre,” he drawled, slowing his pace so she could catch up from where she had been following him at a distance.

“From my eyes, you do Az.”

Her concerned tone made him sigh, the tears flowing even more freely now. He didn’t want to worry anyone, he simply wanted to waste away into nothing.

“I will be fine, Feyre, I promise,” he reassured her once she was at his side, though he didn’t fully believe it himself. “Just go home, go enjoy the dinner everyone has been slaving over for hours, Feyre.”

It was Feyre’s turn to sigh. “Do you promise you’ll eat something tonight?”

Azriel nodded his head.

Another sigh. “I suppose I’ll head back, then. Be safe please, Azriel. We love you. I love you. Remember that, okay?”

Azriel nodding again, swallowing a sob until he couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore. He finally reached your house, opening the beautiful door that you loved so much.

He loved that you’d had it custom made, wanting something to honor your Autumn heritage, so far from home. He closed it, running a hand along its surface.

You had loved everything fiercely, him included, even if he didn’t deserve it in any way.

You had loved your mystery books, your coffee, trying out new blends of tea you had made from herbs you’d grown in your small garden.

Then there were the things about him that you loved. His eyes, his hair. You always loved both of those. His hands… you had never shied away from them, in fact you had pulled them towards you, nuzzling your face into them whenever he was feeling insecure about them. You kissed every inch of them so often, Azriel had begun to love the scars, love the way you were able to make them beautiful.

Now though… he couldn’t think of them as anything but the hands that had sullied you, touching you after touching that other female.

Azriel made his way to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of vodka and your favorite, sapphire blue mug. He poured the liquid until the mug was nearly overflowing, and knocked back as much of it as he could managed in one go, a few drops trailing down his chin.

He regretted so many things in his life, but the way he had hurt you was the one he wished he could take back, at least trade his life for yours. You deserved to live, with your soft heart and open mind. Not him, with his unfaithfulness and betrayal of the worst degree.

His mate.

His mate!!!

He could hardly believe that six months had passed already, six months since that dreadful day.

Six months since your last kiss.

He could almost picture you now, as he walked into your bedroom. It had been on your bed, you were still naked from the earlier activities the two of you had indulged in. Azriel had just gotten his shirt on, and you made an adorable kissy noise, puckering your lips dramatically to draw him back to you. He hadn’t been able to resist, leaning back down and capturing your lips softly with his, tilting your chin up towards him gently with two fingers. It had been soft, sweet, all that he ever needed for the rest of his life.

But it was the last one. The last one, and he hadn’t even known it at the time.

And it was all. His. Fault.

Azriel sank down onto the bed, taking another large gulp of his drink. It was really kicking in now, he felt almost like he could sleep. Draining the rest of the cup, he placed it on the nightstand and laid down on his side of the bed. If he closed his eyes, he could almost trick himself into thinking you were there, sleeping beside him, almost hear your breathing and heart’s rhythm next to him.

He drifted off while clutching the pair of rings still around his neck, his heart still beating that broken, dying music that still sang your name.

Taglist: @j-pendragonx

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 20 pt. 2- I Do

Summary: It's wedding time, baby.

Word Count: 17.4K (.....I'm so sorry)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (holy SHIT you guys, I really went balls to the wall on this one, I fear), kind of semi-public sex (you already know these horndogs are going at it again), More getting caught (Steve is causing his own problems at this point), wedding things!!, family dynamics, mentions of death/grief, lots of emotions, alcohol/drinking, so many feelings (grab the tissues, friends), Javi being adorable with kids, Javi being so in LOVE it HURTS?!? So much joy and happiness because Javi deserves the world and more

A/N: HELLO. Part 2 is finally finished *insert Spongebob narrator voice* 4 years later 🫠 Omg y'all, thank you SO much for bearing with me as I finish this, it has been a labor of love like no other, but I am so excited to finally share our favorite couple's special day and finally GET THESE TWO MARRIED 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I would very much be lying if I said I didn't cry multiple times writing this chapter 🥺 I can't believe these two are actually getting married- words can't express how thankful I am for everyone who's wanted to stick around and read my silly little story to see these two make it to their wedding day- your support and kind words mean more to me than you will ever know 💛 Poorly beta'd bc I'm the worst, also, I've seen that sometimes people have issues reblogging things with comments that are this long (my apologies), but comments and reblogs make me wanna cry and throw up with joy, so it means a lot to me if you're able to leave a comment if it won't let you reblog with one!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Never had you been so anxious to walk in a straight line. 

Because truth be told, that was all you needed to do to walk down the aisle- walk in a straight line. 

But when that straight line meant the walk to finally get to marry your future husband, to take his last name, to start the beginning of your forever together, not to mention kissing him in front of all your closest family and friends, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach swirling in anticipation as you waited for your ceremony to start. 

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb gently stroking your hand that he had been holding since the moment he saw you, almost as if he was refusing to let go. You looked up at him, big brown puppy dog eyes staring down at you with a goofy grin that hadn’t left his face, the sight of his handsome, broad frame easing your racing heart enough to help you remember that when you walked down that aisle in a few short minutes, he was the only thing that mattered. 

“I’m perfect.” You smiled, pressing up on your toes just enough to peck his lips quickly before someone in the wedding party needed to barrate you both again about saving your kissing until after you were finally married. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this many people staring all at me at once. Knowing my luck, I’m gonna trip and fall over this dress before I can even make it to you. Or better yet, with my dumbass decision to have David and Charlie walk me down the aisle, I’ll be lucky if they don’t push me to the ground first.” 

“Well, even if you did fall, you would still be the most beautiful woman on the face of this Earth. My clumsy, grass-stained wife.” Javi snickered, giving you a little nudge as you rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove back. 

“Pendejo. You have both of our vows books, right? You promise you haven’t peeked?” 

“Yup, both right here in my pocket.” Javi smiled, patting his tux by his chest. “Promise I haven’t read it. Although for my sake I probably should have, because if I can’t even make it through seeing you in your dress, then these vows are gonna make me a fuckin’ goner.” 

“Bold of you to assume I had nice things to say about you in there.” You teased, raising your eyebrow as you smirked at him, making Javi shake his head as he laughed. 

“Alright everyone, it’s 3:00, it’s time to get this show on the road! Make sure you’re in order like we practiced, that you take your time walking down to the music, girls, please do not throw petals at each other, and make sure you all- Javi, where are you? You’re supposed to be at the front of this line, sir.” Connie sassed, proving to you that she really was the perfect person for the task of making sure that things ran smoothly today, bossing the group around like the captain of a well organized ship. 

“Sorry, I’m coming,” Javi replied sheepishly. “I love you, Osita.” Sliding the hand that was entangled with yours around your waist, Javi pulled you in for a kiss, much more obviously than he probably should have, considering the shit the two of you were about to get being literal minutes away from getting married. 

“Javier! Get you A-S-S up here! Kiss her all you want once you say I do!” Connie shouted, rolling her eyes at the two of you, Javi pulling away in defense with his hands raised, trying to prove his innocence. 

“Oh, I know what that one spells, Mrs. Murphy! That one spells-” 

“Javi? Please?” Connie asked again, quickly trying her best to cut off your niece, Olivia, before she could finish the rest of her thought in front of everyone else, making the group giggle at her matter of factness. 

“Okay, okay, I’m here!” Javi pleaded, making his way to the front of the procession, taking his place next to his dad as Connie did one more check through of everyone’s spot in line before giving the music an all clear to start playing. 

As you stood at the end of the line, you peeked up to see Javi turned around staring back at you with that same stupid smile on his face, completely enamored and awestruck by you, already convincing you that you were going to turn into a puddle before you could even make it down the aisle. 

But as you went to re-adjust your bouquet in your grasp, you quickly realized there were not one, but two things missing from your procession line, now about to start walking down the aisle. 

Your brothers. 

Despite having seen them only seconds ago, as you quickly whipped your head around, they were now nowhere to be found. 

“Charlie? David? Where the fuck did you go?” You whisper shouted, frantically looking around for any sight of them.

Suddenly, you heard a rustling from one of the bushes around the corner from where you had been lined up and waiting, followed by the all too familiar voices of your brothers up to no good. 

“Just finish it you dingus, I already drank the first half!” 

“Why the fuck did we leave this out here? It’s fucking warm. You got the better half, that’s not fair!” 

“It was warm when I drank it too, dumbwad. Just finish it, we gotta fucking go, hurry up!” 

As you peered behind the bush, you saw your brothers wiping their mouth with the back of their hands as the tossed a can of Miller Lite to the ground, freezing in fear as they saw your menacing and disappointed glare staring back at them. 

“What the fuck do you two think you’re doing?!” 

“It was David’s idea!” Charlie responded, pointing at his brother. 

“Charlie didn’t say no!” David responded back, now pointing at him. “You didn’t expect us to get through this sober, did you? You’re the one who asked us to marry you, so I don’t know what to tell ya, Cubby. Plus, we wanted to pour one out for Patrick since he’s the luckiest bastard out of all of us and doesn’t have to worry about fucking up marrying his little sister.” 

“God, you two are idiots. Well that thing you agreed to do is happening as we speak so can we go do that, please?” You sighed, trying your best not to laugh at your brother’s antics, knowing that you really should have expected nothing less from the pair after you and Javi had asked them to officiate your wedding, considering neither of you had wanted anything religious, and wanted someone who knew you to be the ones to do it. 

“Okay, okay!” They replied, one rushing to each side of you and hooking their arm around yours as you made your way back to your spot at the end of the processional line that had now begun to move forward. 

“Where were you 3 dumbbells? The ceremony is starting!” Your dad gruffed, trying his best to restrain from slapping each of you upside the head. 

“Cubby wanted a beer.” David replied, shrugging his shoulders, keeping his head facing forward, trying his best not to laugh. 

“Honey, seriously?!” Your mom scolded, looking at you with disgust. 

“I did not! I was trying to find these two idiots!” You groaned, eying your brothers as they shook you back and forth between them in their grasp. “I hate you both, I hope you know that.” 

“We love you too, Cubby.” Charlie smirked, knowing that for as much as you said it, there wasn’t a bone in your body that could hate your brothers. For as dumb and annoying as they were, there would never be another moment you would take for granted with them, knowing all too well that life was much too short to do anything but cherish your time together, wishing you had more time to spend with the brother who couldn’t be here with you today. 

Before you could respond, your thought was interrupted by the voice of the DJ through the speakers set up outside, your heart steadily beginning to pound at the reality that everything you had been waiting for was all about to become real. 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen if you could please find your seats, we’re about to get started with our ceremony! Thank you so much, folks!” As his voice echoed through the speakers, a hush began to fall over the crowd of your friends and family that had gathered here, now anxiously alongside you for the ceremony to begin. 

A few seconds passed before you could hear the music beginning to play, the familiar melody of “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac ringing through the speakers- an easily unanimous pick for a song to walk down the aisle to for you and Javi, remembering the first night you had spent together in your apartment, making midnight mac n’ cheese and already falling head over heels in love with each other. 

As the beat began to pick up, your heart started to race, peaking over the backs of everyone’s heads to watch all 5 of your flower girls begin to skip down the aisle, throwing petals every which way around them as they moved.

You couldn’t help but laugh as all their little personalities shone through as they made their way to the altar- Olivia Murphy, being the oldest, most definitely was taking her role the most seriously, holding her baby sister in one hand and carefully sprinkling flowers evenly in front of her. Your niece, Olivia, was second in line to live up to her role, although, being the little ham she was, threw in the occasional twirl in the middle of the aisle to get people to look at her, along with her little waves to the crowd. The rest of the girls, Brianna, Abby and Madison, well, you were just happy that they made it down the aisle, thankful that their older sisters were at least on the lookout enough to keep them from running through the rows of your guests or dumping the entire bucket of flowers on themselves (you had learned your lesson from your rehearsal dinner that Brianna needed about half as less flowers as the others).

Your face lit up watching the girls, your heart filling with joy with the “awhs” and laughter from the crowd at their theatrics as they met at the altar with an impressively semi-rehearsed curtsy, followed by promptly running out of the spotlight and over to Connie who was waiting for them. 

Now that the flower girls had finished making their way down, the processional line began to shift forward once again, this time, leaving Javi and his dad to walk down together, Javi insisting that even though his mom would have been the one to walk him down if she was here, that wanted Chucho to be there in her place instead. 

“Ready, Mijo?” Chucho grinned, giving Javi a little nudge. “Am I going to have to keep you from sprinting down the aisle, or do you think you can manage walking?” 

As the pair began walking down to the melodic beat of the song, Javi couldn’t help but laugh at his dad’s comment, because as much as he wanted to tease him right back, he knew damn well he was so excited that he would have run to the altar if it meant he got to marry you even a minute quicker. 

“Javier?” Chucho asked, looking up at his son with tears in his eyes as the pair moved down the parted pathway between the crowd of guests. 

“Yeah, Pops?” 

“Estoy orgulloso de ti, mijo. Tu mama y yo. (I am so proud of you, son. Me and your mother.) We are so happy that you have found your media naranja (other half). Nosotros te amamos. (We love you so much.)” 

As Javi and Chucho reached the end of the aisle, Javi wrapped his arms around his dad, pulling him close as Chucho patted him on the back, pulling away to look at his son, tears now in both of their eyes, thinking about how far they had come to end up where they were in this very moment, thanking whatever greater power that had finally brought them and Lucia the peace they all desperately deserved. 

Javier Pena knew he was worthy of the love and happiness that his parents had longed for. He had finally proved to himself and his parents he really was the good man that he had hoped to be. 

“I love you, Pops. Thank you for everything.” Javi whispered to his dad, trying to fight back any more tears from falling down his cheeks. 

“Te amo mucho, Javier. (I love you so much, Javier). Thank you for finally realizing that who you are is enough. Now, stop crying over your old man and save some tears for your wife.” Chucho laughed quietly, giving his son another pat on the back with a soft smile wrinkling his cheeks. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about that.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at the tearful mess he already was, giving his father one last hug before Chucho took his seat next to Connie and the flower girls at the front of the crowd. 

Steve was the next to make his way to the altar, Javi laughing at his friend’s goofy strut to greet him at the end of the aisle. Steve held out his hand to shake Javi’s before quickly pulling Javi in for another hug with pats to the back much harder than his fathers. 

“Listen, man. I ain’t good at this sentimental shit, but uh- I’m really fuckin’ happy for you, Javi. I know I give you shit, but you’re one of the good ones. She’s a lucky girl. And I hope you know you’re sure as hell one lucky son of a bitch. Love you, man.” 

“Love you too, Murph. Believe me, I know.” Javi grinned, giving Steve a slap on his shoulder laughing to himself as his friend sat down next to his wife and the girls, never imagining himself standing at the altar, happily waiting to get married while his former partner cheered him on, surrounded by his gaggle of giggly daughters. 

Feeling worlds away from Javi, your heart began to beat faster and faster, realizing that you were now only one pair away from making your trek down the aisle as your mom and dad walked down next, arm in arm. 

In classic mom fashion, your mother squeezed Javi so hard as she greeted him, that you were convinced that she was going to pop an eyeball out one of his sockets, thankful that your dad was there to reel her in enough to keep from suffocating him in her hug. 

“Javi. We love you so much. Thank you for making our daughter so happy. We’re so grateful she found you.” 

“Thank you. I love you both, too. Believe me, I’m just as grateful that she found me. Thanks for making me feel like a part of your family.” Javi replied to your mom, catching his breath through his smile after the death grip your mom had wrapped him in before looking over at your dad, extending his hand to meet his already outstretched one. 

“Jav, you’re a good man. I’m a guy of few words, but we couldn’t be happier for you both. Take care of her, okay?” 

“I will. I promise.” 

With a silent handshake and a nod, Javi and your dad had said all they’d needed to know that they couldn’t be more thankful for the love and support the other had brought you in the times that you had needed it most. 

As your parents made their way to their seats, standing at the opposite end of the aisle with your brothers at your side, the realization really hit you- You were the last one that needed to meet Javi. 

“You ready, Cubby?” Charlie asked, giving you a grin as he smiled down at you, interlocking your arm with his as David did the same on the other side. 

“Yeah, I’m ready. Hey, uh- I just, I just wanted to say, I-I love you guys.” 

“Gross.” David teased, scrunching his face in disgust, pretending to barf over his shoulder as you and Charlie laughed, shaking your head at your brother. “We love you too, dude.” 

With one final giggle and deep breath, you took your first step into view where everyone could see you, watching the guests rise to their feet in anticipation of your arrival, awestruck stares and smiles filling the crowd as you began to walk. 

Even though you had seen each other minutes ago, as you started to make your way down the aisle, smiling at Javi, the two of you couldn’t help but break into tears once again, laughing through your sobs that Javi broke before you did, trying to wipe his wet cheeks with the back of his hand while he watched you walk towards him. 

And even though every pair of eyes were on you, the only eyes you needed to see were Javi’s- The sweet, soft brown eyes that you had fallen so deeply in love with from the moment you had locked eyes with them all that time ago. They were the eyes of the first person who had ever truly seen you for who you were, inside and out, and you couldn’t be more thankful that when you looked at him, you saw your forever. When you looked at Javier Pena, you knew you were home. 

It almost felt as if time was standing still, that even in a crowd full of people, no one else existed besides the two of you. No one else mattered, and nothing else mattered- the only thing that mattered for you was Javi waiting for you at the end of the aisle, and you? You were going to finally be his wife. 

“You two are so in love, it’s fucking sick.” David whispered in your ear, helping to ease your tears as you burst into more laughter, rolling your eyes at your brother. 

“Oh shut up, asshole.” 

As you, David and Charlie finally made your way to Javi, waiting for you in a mess of happy smiles and loving tears, you had to use everything in you to keep from jumping onto him like a koala and kiss him all over his stupidly handsome face, resorting to reaching out to grab his hand instead, interlocking it with yours and giving it the tightest squeeze you could. 

“Hey, Mr. Peña. Long time, no see.” You whispered into Javi’s ear, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before took his other hand in yours, the two of you facing each other in front of your friends and family as David and Charlie took their place behind you, pulling out their notes that they had prepared, clearing their throats as they began to address the crowd. 

“Alright everyone, I uh- I guess we’re gettin’ this show on the road.” Speaking out into the crowd, Charlie began to flip to the right page of his script that you were relieved to see he had written out, your guests beginning to silence and bringing their attention to you and Javi. 

“Hi everyone, for those of you who don’t know us, we are the bride’s brothers, and we have the honor of our sister and our new brother-in-law being stupid enough to let us be in charge of marrying them today. Not to worry, 20 dollars and one course on the internet later, David and I are both legally ordained, so not to fear you two, this will all be legit, and hopefully not too embarrassing.” Charlie laughed, also eliciting giggles and eye rolls from you and Javi, as well as the crowd. 

“Well, we are gathered here today, because these two idiots have fallen so head over heels for each other, it's almost sickening. We’ve had the privilege of knowing our sister for the entirety of our lives. When we found out as kids that our mom was having another baby, and that it was going to be a girl, my brothers and I were disappointed, to say the least. We didn’t want a sister to ruin the bond that we had, and honestly, for a long time while my mom was pregnant, we went through a long baby boycott, and were convinced if we protested long enough, and hard enough, she would eventually turn into a boy, and everything would be fine.” David grimaced, shrugging his shoulders at you as you nodded in agreement, having heard this story from your brothers and parents plenty of times before. 

“And while at first, we weren’t really sure what to do with a sister, considering we didn’t even realize it was an option to pee sitting down until she came around,” Charlie snickered, making the crowd laugh again, aside from your mom, who was rolling her eyes so hard, they probably had made it to the back of her head, “Our sister ended up being one of the best things that could have ever happened to us.” 

Breaking your eye contact with Javi, you paused to look over at your brother, a genuine smile on his face, raising his eyebrows and shrugging as if to say I’m just as surprised that I’m saying this out loud as you. 

“Growing up with our sister has taught us a lot of things- Don’t challenge her to anything you don’t wanna lose at, because she’ll find a way to beat you, and thoroughly kick your ass while she does it, she’s got more brain cells that myself, Charlie, and our late brother Patrick did put together, she’s tougher than most guys I know, and she’s one of the biggest hearted people I’ve ever met.” Looking back at Javi, you could see his face beaming with joy, giving your hand a squeeze, agreeing with everything your brothers had to say, and how all of those traits had made him fall so madly in love with you. 

“So, like brothers do, we never assumed that there would never be anyone good enough, let alone even cool enough for our badass sister. And also like brothers do, we let her go through her fair share of duds and gave her shit, but when this guy came around,” Charlie smiled, pointing at Javi, “we knew that he was something special.” 

“Javi,” David joined in pointing, giving him a playful smirk, “Don’t think you were getting out of this so easy. When we first heard that our sister had made her way down to the middle of nowhere Texas and had started seeing you, our first reaction was instant disapproval, because if you lived in south Texas, you probably knew jackshit about hockey, and that was a no go for us.” 

“But,” Charlie interjected, “After talking to our sister more on the phone, not only was she starting to turn into the happy, energetic self we hadn’t seen in so long, we also learned after talking to her that you not only had been willing to watch hockey with her, but had began to openly express your disdain for the Detroit Red Wings, which made us change our opinions on you very quickly.” 

You and Javi looked at your brothers, rolling your eyes in laughter as they shrugged at you, the roar of cackles from the crowd making you grin, feeling the love from your brothers, friends and family swell in your chest, holding Javi’s hands even tighter, gazing up at him with an awestruck smile. 

“No in all seriousness, Jav. We couldn’t be happier that you not only have become a part of our sister’s life, but our family’s life, too. For those of you who don’t know, we um- we, uh-,” David gulped, taking a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes, “our other brother, Patrick, um, passed away last year, and it uh, it was really hard on all of us, especially our sister. Javi, man, I don’t think you’ll ever understand how thankful we are that you love our sister so unconditionally. Better yet, that you love our family of idiots so unconditionally, because truth be told, we are not an easy bunch to love. While obviously, you can’t ever replace Patrick, I just, I hope you know that we’re so glad to have you as a brother, and that Patrick really would have loved you, man. He would be so happy that you’re the one our sister gets to spend the rest of her life with.” 

For what felt like the 117th time today, you found yourself in absolute tears, feeling the wetness streaming down your cheeks as you looked down at the #2 patch sewn on the bottom corner of your veil in a beautiful mixture of sadness and joy before looking up to see not a dry eye in front of you, both your brothers and Javi misty eyed and sniffling. Breaking his grasp from yours, Javi stepped towards your brothers, wrapping his arms around both of them to pull them into a long, tight hug, Charlie and David reciprocating as their arms patted his back. 

“Thank you guys.” Javi whispered, choking back his tears as he pulled away to look at your brothers, all of you wiping your wet faces with your hands to try and compose yourselves to carry on with the ceremony. 

“Damn, okay, well, sorry about that, folks, was not expecting that.” Charlie and David laughed, trying to shake off their unusually sappy sentiment, looking out at the crowd to see not a dry eye in the house. “Well um, well that’s enough of us yapping at you guys, why don’t we turn it over to the people you’re actually here for, and then you can cry even more because these two idiots decided to write their own vows, so good luck.” 

Staring up at Javi, you could feel your heart begin to race wildly, your hands nearly trembling as you reached out towards Javi to take the little notebook where you had written down your vows, feeling a little more at ease as you saw that Javi’s hands were just as shaky as yours, the two of you overflowing with anxious anticipation. 

It had been no question to either of you that you had wanted to write your own vows to one another. While it seemed to be that everyone else you knew had seemed to avoid writing their own vows because they weren’t sure what to say, or that it was too hard to think of things, you and Javi seemed to find yourselves having the opposite problem, feeling like there was too much to fit in a few short minutes, and that your vows were going to end up being the length of a college lecture. 

There had been a part of you that had worried you would be nervous to read what you had to say to Javi in front of all your friends and family, but as you stood there, smiling up at his beautiful, handsome face, you couldn’t be more excited to share all of the things you had written to tell your husband just how much you loved him.  

But as the two of you stood face to face, your vows in each of your hands, your stomach dropped in shock, realizing that neither of you was making the first move to start talking. Because for all the planning and preparing that you had done for everything else, the both of you had completely forgotten to pick who was going to read their vows first. 

“We never picked who was gonna go first.” You whispered to Javi, your voice filling with nerves every second you stood in front of your guests, neither one of you saying anything. 

“Oh fuck, you’re right. What do you wanna do? Do you wanna go? Do you want me to go?” Javi asked, his face mirroring yours in surprise, now frantically looking back and forth between you, his vows, and all of your guests. 

You weren’t sure if it was the teacher in you, or the fact that you were so flustered that you couldn’t think of anything else, but before you knew it, you were tucking your vows under your arm, holding one hand out in front of you flat and the other in a fist, signifying to Javi that your best solution to your current predicament was playing rock, paper, scissors. 

“Best 2 out of 3?” You shrugged, grimacing at Javi as you tried not to burst into laughter, Javi shaking his head and snickering, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. Do you wanna go after ‘rock’ or say ‘shoot’, then go?” Javi asked, loud enough for your guests to catch on to what was happening, giggles and laughter coming from the crowd. 

“What kind of psychopath doesn’t say ‘shoot’ first? Javier Peña, are you telling me that we need to call off this wedding right now because you don’t say ‘shoot’ before playing rock, paper, scissors? Because I will.” 

Everyone around you was now in full blown hysterics, including Javi, giving you the sassiest look he could muster through his laughter, holding his hands out to mirror yours. 

“So ‘for better or for worse’ doesn’t apply to rock, paper, scissors, apparently?” He teased, smirking at you with a subtle wink as he bit down on his lip. 

“Not if you’re gonna play like that it won’t.”  

“Pendejo.” 

“You love me.” 

“I really fucking do.” 

Giggling as you gestured at your outstretched fist, you began to countdown from your “rock, paper, scissors, adding an extra emphasis on ‘shoot’ as you held out rock and Javi held out scissors. With another laugh, the two of you started again, this time, you with paper and Javi with rock, smirking as you crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, the rest of your guests laughing right along with you. 

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner, Javier Peña. You’re stuck going second.” 

“Go for it, you dork.” 

As the laughter from the crowd settled, you opened your vows book, taking a deep breath as you stared up at Javi, who, despite your silliness, still had tears beginning to well in his puppy dog brown eyes before you could even say your first word. You took one last gulp of confidence, wondering how in the world you were supposed to make it through even a sentence through your speech without falling apart. 

“I never used to believe in fate. People would always tell me that ‘some things are just meant to be!’ or ‘it was just fate it happened like that!’ and no matter how hard I tried to believe, fate just never made sense to me. Well, that was until about a year ago, when fate decided to bump right into me when I least expected it.” You could feel your voice already beginning to shake, huffing in a quick sniffle before continuing on. 

“As fate may have it, I quite literally bumped into you when you were forced to come give a presentation to a group of rowdy 8 and 9 year olds. Thank god fate also was on my side that day- that I actually looked halfway presentable and wasn’t covered in spilled chocolate milk, glue, or the snot of whatever kid had sneezed a little too close to me that morning.” That one had the better part of the crowd letting out a laugh alongside Javi, easing your stress and tension about your speech while you carried on, reading the notes jotted in your booklet. 

“When I first came to Laredo, I wasn’t really quite sure what I was looking for. After my brother died and decided I needed to be as far away from Chicago as possible, there wasn’t ever really a doubt in my mind that here was the only place I really wanted to be. I spent the better half of my middle school and high school vacations here, visiting my best friend who had moved away. To me, Laredo was always a place that brought me such peace and comfort. I’m not really sure why, but there was always something about being here for those few weeks every year that made it feel like home, even when home was halfway across the country. But what I didn’t realize, was that in my attempt to find a new home for myself, I began to learn that home wasn’t a physical location, or a place you could travel to. After meeting you, Javier Peña, I found out that home was wherever I was with you.” 

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up from your vows to see sweet Javi, covering his mouth, as if he was trying to trap his tears to keep from completely breaking down at your words, his reaction only making you cry harder, trying your best to re-compose yourself before speaking again. 

“I spent so long wondering if I would ever find someone who would ever make me feel the way that you do- to love me for all of my flaws, to make me feel important, and even laugh at all of my stupid jokes that probably don’t deserve to be laughed at, but you love me enough to do it anyways. Now that’s true love.” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at Javi, making the two of you snicker between your tears. “You make me feel like the only person in the world whenever I’m with you. The only person who knows me better than I know myself. You are truly one of the most thoughtful and caring people that I have ever met. And while I could list off a million adjectives to describe all of the reasons I fell in love with you- smart, brave, determined, handsome- just to name a few, out of all of those reasons, the one that made me fall for you the most was your big heart. And while I know you’ll never believe me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to get you to see the same amazing man I fall more and more in love with every single day.”

At this point, there was not a dry eye in the crowd, watching how emotional you and Javi were as you tried to choke your way through the rest of your vows. 

“I will never know what I did to deserve you in my life, but promise that I will spend the rest of it letting you know how forever thankful I will always be that out of all the people in the world you could have chosen to bump into, that it was me. I am so excited that the rest of my life, all of the moments, big, small, and everything in between, will all be moments spent with you. That every moment will be spent with my best friend. I never would have thought that a little bit of fate would have become my forever, but I’ll always be so grateful that it is. I love you so much, Javier Peña. Thanks for being the reason I finally believe in fate.” 

Wiping away the wetness streaming down your cheeks, you could barely even look at Javi, who was an absolute blubbering mess, laughing through your tears almost to keep you from completely melting into a puddle. 

Reaching out to grab him, you took Javi’s hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly as you took your other hand up to wipe the tears streaming down his cheeks, the both of you smiling as you looked into each other's eyes.

“And that’s why I wanted to go first. Good luck.” You chuckled, making Javi shake his head as he laughed along with you, taking another deep breath before flipping open his own vows, wondering how in the world he was ever going to make it through speaking, considering how easily he had fallen apart just listening to you. 

“Jesus Christ, well I don’t know how I’m really supposed to follow that.” Javi sighed, the crowd giggling at his remark as he opened up to his first page, staring at his words for a moment before looking back up at you, his deep, chocolate, puppy dog eyes melting you just as quickly as the first time that you locked eyes with him. 

“I’ve uh- I’ve never really been great speeches. When I sat down to write this, I wasn’t really sure where to start. I had no idea how I was supposed to fit all of the things that I wanted to say into all of this.” Javi huffed with a little shrug, gesturing to his notebook. 

“So I um- I figured if there’s anywhere I should start, it should probably be at the beginning. My mom was an elementary school teacher, so growing up, I spent a lot of time at Alma Pierce Elementary School. I swear, I knew that place like the back of my hand. But um, after my mom got sick and passed away, I really never thought I’d ever have a reason to back. Until one day last year, I was told to pack up my stuff to go give a presentation at a local elementary school, which turned out to be none other than Alma Pierce. My mom always used to say “La vida es graciosa, no lo crees?” (Life is funny, isn’t it?), and I never quite understood why. But as I walked back into the place where I had spent so much of my life just out of chance, I swear I could hear her laughing at me, saying “Te lo dije.” (I told you so).” 

You could hear everyone who had had the privilege of knowing Lucia letting out a soft laugh, thinking of all of the times they must have heard her say that all too familiar phrase throughout their time knowing her. 

“I had gotten to a point in my life that I had kind of just accepted that maybe this kind of life wasn’t in the cards for me. I wasn’t gonna get married or have a family, and as much as it hurt, I had learned to be okay with it. The last thing I would have thought would have happened to me after leaving the presentation I had to give that day was that I was already head over heels in love with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life, but la vida es graciosa, no le crees?” 

Giving you a little smirk, Javi could help but let a smile slowly spread between his cheeks as he looked at you, gazing up at him in complete and utter adoration, your goofy grin mirroring his. 

“Never in a million years would I have thought that I would have been standing here today, getting married to you. If you would have told me that I got to marry the most beautiful, amazing, kind, and stubbornly independent woman on the face of this earth, I would have laughed in your face. I honestly still feel like I need to pinch myself to prove that this is even real. But I guess that even if this is all a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up. Being loved by you has changed me in a way that I will never be able to thank you enough for. Being loved by you has made me a better man than I ever believed that I could be. A better man than I ever thought I deserved to be. A man who has learned to love and believe in love in ways I didn’t think I was capable of. I will never be able to thank you enough for letting me into your life and loving me for who I am, and for wanting to spend the rest of it with me.” 

Now, it was your turn to morph into an inconsolable mess, reaching out to grab Javi’s hand again, silently reassuring him that you were equally as grateful for the fact that Javi had let you into his life, too. 

“And no matter how tough, or challenging, or funny life gets, I know it can never really be that bad, because I’ll always have you by my side through it all. I think my mamá would be so proud to know I finally understand what she was trying to say all those years about life being so funny. Because it seems like life has a funny way of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted. Te amo, Osita. Gracias por ser mi todo. (I love you, Osita. Thank you for being my everything).” 

Without even thinking, you threw your arms around Javi’s shoulders wrapping him in a long, tight hug, sobbing into his jacket in a fit of happy tears, Javi hugging you right back, squeezing around your waist, gently cradling the back of your head in the warmth of your embrace. 

“Well shit… Alright, well I’m not sure if you guys are allowed to do that, but after those vows, I think we can let it slide.” David joked, trying to quickly wipe his eyes, nudging Charlie to do the same to try and pull themselves together to make sure they could finish out the rest of the ceremony. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Javi whispered, reluctantly pulling away from you, everyone in the crowd following your brothers’ suite, smiling as they brushed away the wetness welling in their own eyes from listening to your vows. 

“Well, I’d ask if anyone needs to object before we continue, but I think it’s pretty darn clear that these two idiots love each other more than life itself, so I’m just gonna skip that part.” Charlie joked, making you and Javi smirk in agreement. “Alright Miss Olivia, it’s your time to shine, do you have the rings?” He asked, your niece’s face lighting up in excitement as she nodded her head frantically, shooting up out of her seat to dash towards the two of you, carefully holding the ring box like a newborn baby bird in her hands. 

Daintily, she passed the box off to her dad before scampering over to both you and Javi, wrapping her arms around your waists to pull you close in a hug, smiling up at each of you with her toothy, goofy grin. 

“I love you Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi.” Olivia beamed, giggling in pure bliss and joy before skipping back to her seat among the guests, the both of your hearts bursting at the seams with the chores of “awhhhhs” coming from the crowd for your adorable niece. 

“Someone’s trying to get an extra slice of cake tonight huh, Miss Olivia?” David teased, your guests erupting with laughter at her not so innocent shrug to her Uncle’s question, knowing damn well she was just as much of a ham as you. “I trusted the six year old to carry these, can I trust you two not to drop them, or do you need to cry some more first?” 

“Oh shut up, David.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at your brother as you and Javi each took the rings to give one another, carefully holding the shiny gold bands in your hands, counting down the moments until you finally got to say “I do”. 

“Alright, ladies first, so I guess that means you, Cubby. You ready?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything, you dingus, get this show on the road.” 

“Alright, here goes nothin’. This is the part I actually had to practice, so God forbid I mess this one up huh? Do you,” David giggled, saying your real name instead of the nicknames you had lovingly bestowed upon you for as long as you could remember, “Take Javi to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

Carefully slipping the gold band onto Javi’s finger, you could feel your heart bursting in anticipation, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement, slowly pulling your hand away to let your brothers finish the second half of the exchange. 

“And do you, Javier Peña, take our sister,” Charlie and David snickered again, having to say your full name for a second time, “to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?” 

“I do.” 

Gently grabbing your palm and gliding the glistening ring onto your finger, Javi rubbed his thumb over the pair of bands nestled together, forever making a home on your hand, his eyes welling at the sight of the sign that you would always be his. 

Intertwining your fingers together and hands clasped in front of you, you and Javi were radiating with joy, anxiously staring back and forth between each other and your brothers for them to finally say those magic words you had been waiting to hear since the moment you had met all that time ago. 

“Well ladies and gentleman… by the power vested in us, the internet and the state of Texas, it’s our honor to introduce to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” Charlie grinned at you, trying not to burst into laughter at the near panicked look on your faces, not having heard the next set of words you were more than dying to hear. 

“Well go on, you lovebirds, kiss already!” David snickered, shrugging at the pair of you with a grin on his face. 

Before he could barely finish his sentence, Javi’s hands were cupping your face, palms cradling your jaw as he brought his mouth to yours, fireworks exploding in your stomach at the electric intensity of his kiss, so soft and tender, yet so desperate and needy, like it was the first time his lips had ever met yours, and that he never, ever wanted to let them go. 

Your hands shot up to grab his face too, a smile creeping across your mouth with your lips still pressed to his as Javi dipped you down, sliding his hand down the small of your back to hold you before pulling you back up, his lips still locked on yours like glue. 

In that moment, it seemed like time stood still, that nothing else in the world existed besides the two of you- nothing else mattered besides the fact that you were here, kissing the man that you loved more than anything in the world. 

The man that you finally got to call your husband. 

Over the cheers, whistling, and hollering from your friends and family, the both of you were finally snapped back to reality as David gave you a little nudge and a look that screamed “gross, save it for the honeymoon.” 

Reluctantly breaking from your kiss, you grabbed Javi’s hand in yours, holding your fists in the air and cheering in excitement right alongside your guests before heading back up the aisle, your cheeks hurting from how hard they were smiling. So lost in your excitement, you turned your head as you felt Javi stop, tugging you back to the middle of the aisle, smirking as he pulled you close to his chest, whispering in your ear. 

“Not so fast, Mrs. Peña. C’mere.” Grabbing your face and wrapping his arm around your waist, Javi was kissing you again, swinging you down in another dip that had you erupting in giggles and your guests cheering even louder, Javi’s smooth moves soliciting a loud “OW OW” most definitely from Steve. 

“God, I love you.” You smirked as Javi pulled you back up to stand before the two of you were nearly skipping down the rest of the aisle in bliss, racing to the back of the crowd where you had entered the ceremony, turning the corner behind the house where no one could see you, not even bothering to look over your shoulder to see who’d followed you before your lips were crashing into each others again. 

This one was nowhere near as tame as the kisses you had just shared moments ago- this kiss was a tangled mess of tongues and teeth, Javi’s hands creeping dangerously close to the curve of your ass as you tugged at the lapels of his suit jacket, your mouths moving in a messy dance as you whispered muffled and muted words between your kisses. 

“Fuck, my beautiful wife. God, I’m so fucking lucky. I love you so much.” 

“I love you so much too, Javi, I’m so-” 

“Jesus Christ, it’s been 30 seconds and y’all can’t keep your hands to yourselves? C’mon, now. Y’all gotta whole week and a half to do this without having to subject the rest of us to it, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” Steve laughed, making the both of you gasp as he slapped Javi on the back, immediately making your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment and Javi groan in annoyance at his best man’s timely (or untimely) disruption. 

“Steve, c’mon like you didn’t have your hands all over me after we got married.” Connie sighed, now smacking the back of her own husband’s head, making him wince in pain. “Congratulations, you two. We’re so happy for you.” 

“Thanks, Connie.” You and Javi smiled, Javi still keeping his hand wrapped around your waist as the rest of your wedding party started making their way back up the aisle to greet you, too.

“Also having gotten married before, you’re gonna thank me later as I make you go find your brothers to sign your marriage license somewhere that has a little peace and quiet before you get none the rest of the night. Why don’t you guys head inside and I’ll cover for you for a little, okay?” 

“You’re the best, Connie, thanks.” Javi grinned, pulling you away towards the house, quietly sneaking in through the front door to wait for your brothers, Javi looking both ways around the seemingly empty house before pulling you close again. 

“Javi, Charlie and David are gonna be in here any minute, and they’re gonna give us just as much shit as Steve, if not more.” You giggled, gazing up into Javi’s eyes, still awestruck and giddy. 

“I know. Just one more kiss, mi esposa (my wife).” Javi smirked, tilting his head down to press his lips to yours, his thumb tracing soft circles on your cheek as the rest of his fingers cradled your jaw, tilting your eyes up towards him. “Fuck, you’re finally my wife. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.” 

“Good thing we have the rest of our lives to get used to it, huh?” 

People weren’t kidding when they said that your wedding would be a blur- From the moment the ceremony ended, it felt like everything was moving in fast and slow motion at the same time, being pulled in every direction to talk with family members, take pictures, and make sure that things were running smoothly. As much as you and Javi were both trying to soak in every moment of your special day together, it was safe to say the two of you were feeling a little overwhelmed by the time you had gotten to dinner, and couldn’t have been more thankful to have a moment to finally sit down. 

More importantly, you were so glad that you had gotten to the point where you had a drink, some delicious food in your stomach, and the best part of the night ahead of you- dancing. 

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon of the Peña ranch as dinner was coming to a close, the clanging of forks and knives against dinner plates slowly shifting to chatter and conversation that was filling the space of the white tent that had been propped up in the backyard for your reception. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect when you had decided on a backyard wedding, but with the absolutely stunning work your mom, Connie, sister in law, and Javi’s aunt’s had put together for you, they had made a white tent feel like something out of a fairytale. String lights and greenery were strung across above you, long tables decorated in candles and beautiful garlands of eucalypts, sprinkled white and pink roses from Lucia’s garden, along with cute, colorful vintage cups that the women had collected or thrifted for your guests to use. Everything about your setup felt magical, and with the sun sinking and fading into dusk, the glow and twinkles of the lights illuminating your space only made it feel that much more incredible. 

As the two of you sat at your head table, bellies full and hearts happy, feeling a little tipsy from the extra strong margaritas Javi’s cousin seemed to be making, you were a little worried as what looked like a more than just tipsy Steve approached you, slapping a stack of index cards in front of you. 

“Listen… I’m like the perfect level of drunk to give this best man speech. Any less drunk and I’ll be too fuckin’ nervous to do it, and any more drunk I’m not gonna be able to remember what I’m supposed to say. Y’all good to keep this movin’ so you can do your first dance and then we can get this party started?” 

“Jesus Christ, Murph…” Javi sighed, laughing at his friend, now sassily crossing his arms over his chest at Javi. “This speech better be good.” 

“It’s good, and Connie approved, so you know I won’t say any dumb shit. Well, not if we don’t start soon and I keep drinking more.” Steve paused, letting out a low burp, rubbing his stomach and grimacing at the two of you, snorting at him. 

“Take it away, Shakespeare.” You smiled, gesturing your arm out to the dance floor in front of the guests sitting at their tables, chatting away. You couldn’t help but laugh as Steve confidently made his way to the front of the crowd, Connie silently mouthing “I’m so sorry”  from across the room, pointing at her husband, now ready to take the stage. 

“Hey y’all,” Steve started, bellowing his voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention, making them pause their chit chat and focus their attention on him. “I’m Steve Murphy. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Javi’s best man. Normally it’s customary for a guy like me to come up and say a few words about the bride and groom, so lucky for y’all, I’m your guy tonight. You’re welcome, Jav.” 

The crowd laughed as Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at Steve and shaking in his head in fear of what was to come, sliding your hand over to rest on his thigh, giving your now husband a little squeeze of reassurance to have some faith in his friend. 

“I have had the pleasure of knowing Javi for a long time now. It’s been, what, 17 years now, Jav?” Steve asked, turning back to look for confirmation. 

“It’s been too long.” Javi replied, shaking his head, his witty response only making your friends and family laugh more. 

“Whatever, you grumpy old bastard. Anyways, I first met Javi when I found out that I would be his partner down in Colombia working for the DEA. Not gonna lie, when I first met him, while I’ve never admitted this until now, I was pretty intimidated by the guy. He was cool, smart, respected, even though his jeans were way too fuckin’ tight.” Steve teased, winking at Javi, making you snicker from the few pictures you had seen from back in the day when Javi was in Colombia, knowing exactly what Steve meant. 

“I’ll spare you all the details of our time down there, but through all of our trials and tribulations, despite our differences and disagreements, the one thing I always admired about Javi is that he really cared about what he did. No matter what, he always cared about trying to do the right thing for the people he cared most about. Now, believe me, if you would have asked me all those years ago if I would have ever pictured Javi here today, gettin’ married, buildin’ a house and talkin’ about startin’ a family? Well shit, I prolly woulda told you that you were bat shit crazy. But, if there’s anyone in the world who deserves every ounce of all that domestic, lovely dovey bliss, it’s this man right here.” Steve smiled softly, pointing back to Javi who couldn’t help but let his heart fill with warmth at the sentiment from his friend, your hand rubbing up and down Javi’s leg, his grasping over yours to hold it tight. 

“Javi, I know you’ll never believe me when I tell you this, but I’m real proud of ya, man. And I hope you know how goddamn lucky you are that this beautiful woman has agreed to spend the rest of her life with your grumpy ass. Speaking of which…” Steve smirked, turing back to look at you with a goofy grin, making you raise an eyebrow at whatever stupid comment was bound to come out of his mouth. 

“Mrs. Peña. I never thought I’d live to see the day Javi was so in love. When he called me a few weeks after the two of you first met, and was all jazzed and excited to tell me about this beautiful girl he had started datin’ and how happy he was, I just about damn near fell down. He never said it on that phone call, but I knew that this sorry shit was absolutely head over heels in love with you.” 

That comment had you giggling at Javi’s blushing face, his cheeks turning pink at Steve’s story, even though he knew damn well it was the truth. 

“I couldn’t think of anyone who would be more perfect for Javi if I tried. When I first met you and saw how sickeningly cute y’all were together, God’s honest truth, my first question I asked Javi was when he was plannin’ on buyin’ a ring. Glad to see that sometimes he’ll take my advice. Sweetheart, I can’t thank you enough for being so good to my best friend right there. I hope he knows how lucky he is to have someone like you.” 

Grabbing your hand, Javi interlocked his fingers with your underneath the table, softly smiling at you and gently nodding his head in agreement. 

“I also need to thank you that he’s finally got someone else to worry about him instead of me. One less thing off my back. No offense, Jav. Alright, well, y’all have probably heard enough of me yappin’, and y’all are anything like me, you’re ready for more drinkin’ and dancin’. To Mr. and Mrs. Peña-” Steve paused, grabbing the nearest drink he could find and raising it up in the air, prompting the rest of your guests to do the same. “Wishin’ you two lovebirds a lifetime of happiness. I love you guys. Cheers!” 

Over the applause and cheerful shouting, Steve rushed his way back over to the two of you, slotting himself in between your seats so his head poked out between yours, wrapping his arms around both your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug. 

“Nice work, Murph.” Javi smiled, patting Steve on the back, laughing to himself at how genuinely thoughtful Steve’s speech had turned out to be. 

“Thanks, Steve. Your speech was really great. How much did Connie have to edit out?” You snickered, looking back between him and Javi. 

“... Let’s just say I left out the part about y’all horny bastards needin’ to be better about lockin’ your doors when other people are around.” Steve chuckled, shaking both of you in his grap, You and Javi’s eyes sheepishly darting to the ground in embarrassment. 

“Fuck off, Murph.” 

“Love you too, Jav.” 

With one last pat on the back for each of you, before you could say anything else, Steve was already halfway across the tent back to the bar to congratulate himself for getting through his speech without any major slip ups or major scoldings from Connie after he returned back to his table. 

“Thank God for Connie.” You grimaced, laughing at Javi whose face was buried in his palm, shaking his head at his friend, wondering why he would expect any less from him. “...He’s not wrong, though.” 

“I’m triple checking that I lock all the doors later so I don’t give him any more reasons to be right…” Javi sighed, giving you a little nudge while the hand that had been holding yours suddenly let go, resting on your thigh over your dress, giving it a long squeeze, making your heart race in anticipation, his eyes locking with yours, telling you everything you needed to know.  

Some way, some how, Javi was going to find a way to fuck you before the night was done. 

“Javi…” You whispered, heat creeping through your cheeks, trying your best to keep from blushing as you locked eyes with him, his devilish grin and lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes entrancing you in a way that had butterflies swirling in your core and ache rapidly beginning to grow between your legs. 

“Si, Mi esposa?” (Yes, my wife?), Javi smirked back, running his hand further up your thigh and closer to your core as his other hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing back and forth across your skin, toying just enough to tug at the corner of your lip. 

While you had gotten a little bit of alone time with Javi today, the way that the both of you had been absolutely insatiable for each other after seeing each other in your wedding attire, let alone the fact that you were now actually married? You and Javi were both dying to try and find a second to yourselves without interruption, especially from Steve. 

So caught up in awe of each other, you and Javi hadn’t even noticed your DJ, standing next to your table, quietly clearing his throat to try and get your attention. 

“Hey, uh- Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” He interjected, loud enough to finally snap you and Javi out of the horny stare down you had entered, “Are um- are you two ready for the first dance?” 

“Oh, um- yeah, y-yeah, sorry about that.” Javi grumbled, the two of you quickly trying to snap out of the thick heat of sexual tension that had been growing between you, both readjusting yourselves in your seats as you looked up sheepishly at the DJ,  “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“I asked if you two were ready to do your first dance? If you um, if you need some more time I can-” 

“No, we’re okay, thanks.” You grimaced, trying to keep from giggling and blushing as you looked over at Javi and then back at your DJ. “You ready to dance, Mr. Peña?” 

“Never been more ready, Mrs. Peña.” Javi replied, grabbing your hand as the two of you stood up, out of your seats walking to the edge of the dance floor while your DJ headed back to his booth. 

“Hello everyone! We’re going to get ready to start our first dance with the newlyweds, so if you could please direct your attention to the dance floor, we’re about to get started!” 

Before you could even take a step out onto the floor, the cheering and clinking of knives against glasses was erupting amongst the crowd, Javi happily taking the opportunity to grab you by the waist and pull you in for a long, deep kiss, making you giggle against his lips still pressed to yours as he dipped you down, before pulling you back against his chest. 

“Show off.” You snickered, raising an eyebrow at him as he finally pulled away from your kiss, staring down at you with a goofy grin. 

“Better get used to it, Mrs. Peña. I’ve got the whole rest of our lives to keep showing you off.” Javi smirked, shooting you a wink before tugging you out into the center of the dance floor, patiently waiting for your song to start as you draped one arm around his neck, Javi snaked his hand around your waist, and the pair of your other hands joined clasped at your side. 

It was then that the melodic violin entrance to “At Last” by Etta James began to play, Javi smiling down softly at your agreed upon choice for your first dance song after lots of debate and discussion the past few months. 

At last 

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

As the music began to play, you and Javi began to sway back and forth to the syrupy symphony of the song, your heart bursting and stomach filling with the same butterflies it had the first time you had met Javi all those months ago. 

“I’m glad we picked this one.” Javi smiled, the two of you circling your way around the dance floor, eyes locked on each other.  

“Me too. It always makes me think of making breakfast with you on the weekend and all the little moments I love with you.” You grinned back, letting go of Javi’s hand to drape both arms over his shoulder and around his neck. 

“It makes me think of spilling that entire bowl of pancake batter all over Bear and then having to chase him around the house to get him in the tub.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes as he laughed to himself, tightening his grip around your waist to pull you closer. 

I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own 

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known 

“Me too. God, who would have thought that a year ago we’d be having our first dance at our wedding talking about spilling pancake batter all over our dog.” You giggled, leaning to rest your head against Javi’s chest. 

“I did.” 

Looking up at Javi, you could feel your cheeks warming, staring at his big brown eyes welling with tears, trying your best to now hold back the wetness pooling under your lashes. 

“Osita, I swear, from the moment I saw you smile at me, I knew that you were the only woman in the world I ever wanted. I knew you were the one I wanted my forever with. I’ll never get over the fact that I’m the luckiest man alive. I love you so fucking much.” Javi choked back, letting one of his hands slide up your face, gently cupping your cheek as he tilted his head in for a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away for another one on your forehead. 

You smiled, you smiled 

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in Heaven 

As the song began to slow, the sweet melody winding down to its close, Javi lifted up his arm to let you twirl beneath him before spinning you back into his chest and wrapping his arm around your waist to catch you as he dipped you down again, your mouths meeting in a long, tender kiss, electricity sparking between your lips and butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

For you are mine 

At last 

“I love you too, Javier Peña.” 

Over the applause of your guests, you could hear an obnoxiously loud “OW OW” from the crowd, coming from a now even more intoxicated Steve, making you and Javi laugh at his reaction, swiftly followed by Connie’s sharp jab to his ribs to get him to settle down. 

“Alright ladies and gents,” The DJ spoke over the rumble of voices at the dinner tables, “Let’s have one more big round of applause for our newlyweds!” 

As the crowd began to clap again, and Steve, threatened by another blow to his side, cheering at an appropriate volume, the DJ spoke again with the announcement you had been patiently waiting for since the ceremony finished. 

“Alright everyone, with our first dance done, it’s time for the best part of the night, the dance floor is officially open! Let’s party!” 

As the blaring intro to “Jump Around” began to blast to your speakers, your friends and family rushed to the dance floor, you let out a squeal of surprise as Javi snatched you up around your middle, lifting you up to spin you around in a fit of giggles. 

“Vamos a bilar, mi esposa.”  (Let’s dance, wife) 

The rest of the night was the best kind of celebration that you could have asked for- the joy of being surrounded by your friends and family, dancing the night away to your favorite songs, and drinking one too many margaritas with your husband was everything you could have asked for and more on your wedding night. 

It was no shock to you that your family had no problem making absolute fools of themselves out on the dance floor, happily (and drunkenly) flailing along to every single song, although your brothers’ and Steve’s enthusiastic sing-along to “Baby Got Back” was impressive, to say the least. 

And while you and Javi had expected your family to act a fool, what neither of you had expected was how excited Chucho was to bust out dance moves of his own, taking everyone by surprise as he joined all your co-workers and Javi’s co-workers (who had quickly become best friends on the dance floor), to shake his way through “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, leaving you in hysterics, and Javi in stunned embarrassment at his dad’s antics. 

As the evening began to creep later and later into the hours of the night, a very sleepy Olivia approached you and Javi on the dance floor, gently tugging at your dress and his pants for attention with puppy dog eyes plastered on her face that almost gave Javi’s a run for his money. 

“Auntie Bear and Uncle Javi, can I pick a song? Pleaseeeeeee?” Olivia begged, pouting her bottom lip at the two of you, absolutely melting your hearts in an instant. 

“Of course, mi amor.” Javi smiled, caving immediately as he crouched down to her level, her face lighting up in delight at her uncle’s response, coming close to whisper in his ear. 

If you couldn’t have already been more in love with your husband, watching him listen intently to what your niece had to say, nodding in agreement before scoping her up to rest on his hip, you were practically in a puddle now. 

“Me and Miss Olivia are gonna go make a song request.” 

“But Auntie Bear, you have to let me dance with Uncle Javi first, okay?” Olivia quickly added, very adamantly. 

“Of course, lil Miss. Have fun, you two.” You smirked as Javi and Olivia made their way over to the DJ, watching Olivia’s face light up instantly as the DJ agreed to her request, Javi carrying Olivia out to the middle of the dance floor and setting her down on the ground as the end of the song slowly began to fade into your niece’s song choice. 

With her love for the movie, you shouldn’t have been surprised at all that her pick was “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from the Lion King Soundtrack, but even though you weren’t shocked at her choice, there was nothing that going to be able to prepare you for the gut wrenching cuteness that was your now husband, dancing with your niece. 

It had already gotten to the point in the night that Javi’s suit jacket and tie were long gone, 3 buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and the once neat curls of his dark hair now messily sweeping his forehead from your night of dancing, and if the sight of just how goddamn handsome Javi looked, on top of the fact he was now officially your husband, paired with the sight of him slow dancing to the Lion King with Olivia? 

Your ovaries were just about shot to hell. 

As the song played and Javi and Oliva spun around the dance floor in a fit of smiles and giggles, you couldn’t help but wish with every bone in your body that it was your daughter that Javi was dancing with, nearly falling to your knees the thought of making him a dad, on top of being your husband. And if that wasn’t enough, the two of you were finally married, and that meant half of your bargain to start trying for kids was complete- and with the other half being your house finally finishing with construction which was almost close to being done as well, you were so close to start trying for a baby of your own, you could almost taste it. 

And that? That drove you crazy enough to feel like you were going to combust. 

So stuck in your daydream, you didn’t even notice Olivia running up to you, now tugging at your dress again, letting out a little sleepy yawn as she tried to get your attention. 

“Okay Auntie Bear, you can dance with Uncle Javi now. Thanks for letting me pick a song.” Olivia smiled as you sunk down to meet her, wrapping her in a hug. 

“Of course, Olivia. Thank you for being the best flower girl today. I love you, cutie patootie. Alright, I’m gonna go dance with Uncle Javi now, okay?” 

“I love you too, Auntie Bear. I think Uncle Javi misses you, he wouldn’t stop looking at you the whole time we were dancing. I think he wants to kiss you again, but that’s gross. Yuck.” Oliva grimaced, making you giggle as she stuck out her tongue before watching her scamper away back to her sisters and the Murphy girls to dance some more. 

As you turned back, bracing yourself to stand back up, you were greeted with Javi’s large palm held out in front of you, pulling you up to greet his handsome grin while you looked up at him. 

“I’ve been told I have permission to come dance with you now.” 

“It did take some persuading, I told her I’d save an extra piece of cake for her if she let me go dance with you.” Javi chuckled, pulling you back out onto the dance floor, slowly swaying back and forth to the beat. 

“Watching you two out there is dangerous.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi as he cocked his head in confusion. 

“What do you mean, hermosa?” 

“I mean,” You paused, standing up a little bit taller, throwing one arm over Javi’s shoulder, running your hand through the hairs at the nape of his neck to whisper in his ear, “Watching the two of you made me think about how much I wanna make you a dad. And now that we’re married and the house is almost done, we actually get to start trying soon.” 

It took everything in Javi not to let out an audible moan, letting out a gulp and scrunching his eyes shut for a moment to try and maintain his composure at what you had just said to him, his grip around your waist immediately tightening and eyes darkening as he opened them, staring down at you, absolutely awestruck. 

“Fuck me.” He muttered to himself, almost shaking his head in disbelief that after all of the time you had spent talking about wanting kids and nights you’ve had wishing there hadn’t been any birth control to keep you from having them were now an almost tangible reality, “Is that what you want, mi esposa? My wife wants me to give her a baby?” 

Javi’s voice rasped in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, your stomach flipping in arousal at the hot breath of his words against your skin, knowing what had started as a sweet and simple moment of Javi dancing with Olivia had quickly shifted into a desperate want, no, need, for him to give you what you were asking for. 

As the music slowly faded into the next song, bodies shuffling and dancing to the more upbeat tune that had followed Olivia’s choice, the both of your figures stood frozen on the dance floor in a silent exchange of racing hearts and yearning glances before Javi took your hand in his. 

“Follow me.” 

In an instant, Javi was tugging you across the dance floor, the two of you dodging and weaving your way through your guests with polite smiles and happy waves, doing everything you could to try and sneak away as discreetly as possible in hopes that everyone would be too preoccupied (or too drunk) to realize that you were gone. 

But at this point, you really didn’t care whether anyone noticed if you were gone or not. Truth be told, the only thing you cared about was finally getting to fuck your husband. 

Finally making it through the worst of the maze of people, you and Javi had made your way to the back porch, quietly peeking your heads through the door, checking to make sure the coast was clear before hastily slipping inside, gently shutting the door behind you before sneaking down the hall to Javi’s room, thanking whatever higher power had let the two of you get to his bedroom in peace. 

From the moment Javi had shut the door behind him, you were all over each other in an instant, hands roaming across each other’s bodies as you stumbled until the back of your legs hit the mattress, flopping down onto the bed, Javi’s body caging yours in his frame. Your lips crashed together in a hungry clash, tongues, teeth and moans melting together between your mouths as Javi hiked up the skirt of your dress, running his hands along your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh in his firm grasp before his fingers crept towards your aching core, ghosting over the white, lacy fabric covering your cunt, already soaking with arousal. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet, hermosa. My wife’s pretty little pussy all wet for me, huh?” Javi rasped, the pads of his fingers pressing more pressure over your covered clit, making you whimper in delight. 

“It’s all yours, Javi. Yours forever, baby.” You moaned, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s fingers dipped under the waistband of your underwear, collecting the slick pooling around your folds before plunging his two fingers inside your heat and thumbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves, pure bliss running through your veins at his touch. 

Your response had Javi practically growling, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he looked down to see the golden and diamond bands glistening on your finger, awestruck at the beautifully blissed out mess you were already becoming as his fingers curled, prodding at the spongy spot inside you that he knew drove you wild. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, Osita. My beautiful wife. Fuck- I can’t believe your mine. I love you so fucking much.” Javi groaned, his words muffled between the hot, wet kisses he kept planting on your lips, feeling your cunt beginning to clench around his digits. 

“I l-love- fuck- I love you too, Javi.” You whimpered, the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine beginning to build as Javi’s fingers pulsed in and out of your heat and thumb circled your throbbing clit, knowing with how worked up you were and how good he felt, it wouldn’t take much more before you were coming undone around his hand. 

“I know you’re close, baby. Let go, hermosa. Cum for me so I can fuck my wife and show her how much I love her.” 

“F-Fuckfuckfuck Javi. Don’t stop, baby, don’t s-sto-ahhhhhhhhh.” 

With his thumb circling faster and harder around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and fingers plunging in and out of your weeping hole, it wasn’t long before you could feel that all too familiar tingle spreading throughout your body, your orgasm flooding through every inch of you as you came around his fingers, soaking his hand. 

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. My good wife.” Javi groaned, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers from your dripping heat, admiring the slick and shiny mess you had made around his fingers, entranced by the way your arousal had coated his wedding band as he brought his hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean before beginning to work at his belt. “You taste so fucking sweet, baby.” 

You sat back up, looking over your heaving chest to see Javi shuffling his pants and boxers down his thighs, leaving them to pool around his ankles, revealing his cock, already so painfully hard and weeping with precum from his tip. Reaching down to run his fingers through your folds again, he collected your slick on his hand before rubbing it up and down his length, stroking himself to line up with your entrance. 

“F-fuck, let me feel you baby, p-please.” You whined, reaching up to grab fistfuls of Javi’s shirt, tugging him down to kiss you and lay his body on top of yours. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi moaned, slowly filling you up with his cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out against your cervix, letting you adjust to the fullness as he relished in the wet and warmth of your pussy gripping around him like a vice. 

“M-move, Javi, please, baby.” The sweet sting and stretch of Javi’s length inside you already wanting to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

Javi began to languidly thrust himself in and out of your heat, dragging his cock almost painfully slowly against your velvety walls, cursing under his breath at the feeling of his balls beginning to tighten in his stomach, knowing there was no way he was going to be able to last as long as he would have wanted to in the moment. 

“Javiiiii” You whined, your arms wrapping around back, nails pressing into his shoulders as his cock hit the spot inside you that lit you ablaze. His hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to rub your clit, still slow, taking his time with each graze of his fingertips as his pace held deep and steady. Every thrust in and out of his hips had you wrecked as he filled you so fully and intensely, moaning his name over and over while he grasped the meat of your thighs, pressing your knees against your chest to stretch you open even further.  

“God you’re so beautiful. My beautiful fucking wife. Gonna be such a beautiful mom for our kids.” Javi grunted, this thrusts becoming faster and sloppier as he let the reality of his marriage and actual attempts to start trying for a family burn a hole in the forefront of his mind, igniting something even feral within him, knowing he was one step closer to finally giving you and him what you both wanted more than anything. 

For Javi to get you pregnant.

The last sentence made your breath hitch in the back of your throat, whimpering at the notion that because you were finally married, there wasn’t much stopping you from tossing out your birth control tomorrow and trying to get pregnant by the end of the month. 

“J-Javi-” You whined, trying to form any sort of coherent thought as your brain short circuited from the pure bliss and heart racing thoughts running through your brain. 

“What, Osita?”  

“I-I want you- oh shit- to fuck a baby into me, Javi. I wanna throw out the rest of my birth control- I don’t care if the house- Jesus- isn’t finished. I wanna stop taking it tomorrow. I w-want you to- fuck- fill me up and get me pregnant.” 

You could practically feel the weight of Javi’s jaw dropping to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull, and heart beating out of his chest, so shocked, he stopped himself mid thrust, just to make sure he had heard you correctly. 

“Osita- baby, are you- holy fuck- baby, are you serious?” 

You nodded your head frantically, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him in for an electric kiss before leaning back to whisper in his ear, your voice sultry and low. 

“I need my husband to fuck a baby into me. Please. Fuck a baby into me, Javi.” 

If Javi didn’t have his arms already braced on the bed, there’s no way in hell he wouldn’t have fallen over in pure delight at your request, his stomach now churning with the wildest mix of excitement, lust and pride, spreading up through his chest and across his face, the brown of his eyes darkening and awestruck smile widening. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked, almost rhetorically, a devilish grin spreading between his cheeks as he began to pound into you again, not even giving you a chance to respond, knowing damn well what your answer was.  

If his thrusts weren’t already frantically rushed and sloppy, they most definitely were now, Javi practically on the brink of his own high just from the thought of getting to fuck you, knowing there was a real, true chance of getting you pregnant, trying to fight with everything in him to keep from busting right then, needing to make sure that you came again before he did. 

The lewd noises of your moans, wetness of Javi’s cock sliding in and out of you, and his hips snapping against yours coated the walls of the room, the both of you having no regard for anyone who may have been close enough to hear you, so caught up in the moment, that at this point, you couldn’t have cared less if anyone caught the both of you. 

“Answer me, baby. Mierda- You want me to fuck a baby into you, huh? Want me to fucking fill you up and get you pregnant? Show everyone you’re mine with our baby growing inside you?” Javi grunted through gritted teeth, pounding into your g-spot with blinding force, frantically circling your clit as he felt your cunt begin to clench tighter and tighter around his cock, knowing you just needed a little bit more before he had you coming undone. 

“Y-yes- fuckfuckfuck- I need you to, Javi, p-please baby, please, please, pleaaahhhhhhh-” 

Just like that, you could feel yourself gushing around Javi’s cock as you came, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, crashing through every inch of your body, euphoria flooding through your veins, screaming his name while he fucked you through your high, desperately chasing his own. 

“I’ll give it to you baby, I- fuck me- I’ll give you everything you want. I’ll give you as many babies as you want. I’ll give you a family, I’ll give you my heart, my soul, my everything, my- oh fuck!” 

Javi’s hips stuttered, forcing a low groan to rumble in his throat as he came, the hot ropes of his spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop inside you, still pulsing and thrusting inside you, ensuring that nothing went to waste. 

Slumping his body on top of yours, your chests rose and fell in sync, trying your best to catch your breaths as you came down from your highs, your mouths meeting in a sloppy kiss to try and ground  you back to reality. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered through your labored pants, laughing to yourself from the pure bliss of what had just happened, staring up at Javi with a radiant grin, brushing the sweat-dampened curls from his forehead. 

Javi hissed as he carefully pulled out, leaning back enough to see the smile on your face, gently cupping your cheek as he looked down at you with a goofy grin of his own. 

“Osita… Were you being- baby, were you serious about what you said?” 

“Jav, I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious about anything in my entire life. Is-is that okay with you?” You asked, biting down on your lip. 

“Is that okay with me?” He asked, almost mockingly, chucking to himself as he shook his head in disbelief, “We can really throw it away tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” 

“And you won’t bring it with you on the honeymoon?” 

“Nope.” You replied, popping the “p” at the end of the word. 

“And there’s- holy fuck- there’s a chance you could actually get pregnant soon?” Javi asked, his face glowing brighter and brighter with each question he asked. 

“Mmmhhmmm. Well, I mean, it might not happen right away but- Ahhhh Javi!” You giggled as your husband aggressively peppered ticklish kisses across your entire face, making you squeal and squirm in delight. 

“Fuck, I love you so much. Thank you.” Javi smiled, tears welling in his eyes as he looked down at you. 

“Jav, baby, don’t cry! Why are you crying, you dork?” 

“You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. You married me, we’re gonna have a family, it’s just- fuck, I promise, that I wanna spend the rest of my life until the day I die showing you how thankful I am that you chose me. That you gave me all the things I stopped thinking I deserved. I love you so much, it fucking hurts, Osita. Thank you for choosing me.” 

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Javi, pulling him close to you in the tightest hug you could muster, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the weight of his body melt into yours, your bodies intertangled as one. 

“Javi, you’re the only one it ever could be. Te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden expresar. (I love you more than words can say).” 

“Hey! Lovebirds! Are y’all in here?” 

Over the music and chatter of the party outside, you and Javi had been completely oblivious to the all too familiar southern twang of Steve’s voice behind the bedroom door, gently knocking from the outside after being sent on a mission to find where in the world the two of you had been for nearly a half hour. 

“Hello? Mr. and Mrs. Peña?” Steve rapped again, getting nothing in response but silence. Steve shrugged, drunk enough to have no fear to pound on the door repeatedly until the two of you showed up, now reaching down at the doorknob and giving it a jiggle. 

Steve was shocked to find that he could turn the handle, writing off the fact that they two of you would be in a room with an unlocked door after the 10 pounds of shit he had given Javi, and with his inhibitions severely lowered, he had  no problem cranking the knob and pushing the bedroom door wide open. 

“Hello? Earth to Javi and Mrs. Peña, are y’all in here or not because I- Oh Jesus Christ!” Steve shrieked, opening up the door to see you and Javi, your dress still hoisted up to your waist, and Javi’s bare ass completely on display, making the both of you scream just as loud in surprise at your unwanted visitor. 

“Murphy! Get the fuck out!” Javi snarled, quickly scrambling to try and pull your dress back down and his pants back up. 

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ!” Steve yelled, immediately bringing his hand to his face to cover up his eyes, trying to drunkenly stumble as quickly as he could back out of the room, but, because of his intoxicated state and self-imposed lack of vision, Steve found himself colliding head first with the wall, knocking himself to the ground before crawling across the floor like a frazzled toddler, kicking the door closed behind him. 

For as devastatingly embarrassed as you were by the whole debacle, you couldn’t help but cackle at the impeccable comedic timing of the whole thing, snickering to yourself as Javi finished buckling back up his pants and helping you up to stand before storming to the door, opening it to find Steve still sprawled on the floor in an a hysteric fit. 

“Are you fucking serious, Murph?” Javi growled, completely unamused. 

“God, I shoulda kept my bit that Connie cut in my speech. Y’all do know that doors have locks, right? Might be helpful if y’all learned how to use ‘em. Just food for thought.” Steve giggled, watching both of your faces grow beet red in embarrassment and at a loss for words. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Javi asked, pinching the arch of his nose between his fingers, shaking his head in frustration, looking down the hallway to make sure that Steve was the only presence you needed to worry about. 

“I’m tryin’ to save your asses before someone else worse than me walks in on the two of you gettin’ it on. Y’all do realize you’ve been gone for almost 45 minutes right? Being the- oh shit-” Steve paused, letting out a giant burp,” ‘cuse me, being the good Best Man I am, I decided to try and find you two idiots before people started askin’ too many questions. So, you’re welcome.” Steve grunted, pushing himself up to stand, cocking his head at the both of, hands on his hips, trying to prove his point. “Also, do you two anything else besides fuc-” 

“Steve! Jesus Christ, will you shut the fuck up!” Javi groaned, staring down at the floor, taking a deep breath to compose himself before he decided to kick Steve right back down to the ground again. 

“...It’s really been 45 minutes?” You grimaced, looking back between Steve and Javi, shrugging at your husband that any longer, your mom would have been on a search party for you, and it would have been your whole family at Javi’s bedroom door instead of just Steve. 

“Yeah, and I’m the first to come lookin’ after ya, so again, you’re welcome. Jesus, Javi, you can really last for 45 fuckin minutes? How the-” 

“Murphy!” 

“Sorry…” 

“Fuck me….” 

“Think you and your wife already took care of that one…” Steve muttered under his breath, trying not to laugh.

“I swear to God, Steve…” 

“Okay, I’m done! I’m done! Swear!” Steve held up his hands in defense, taking a step back away from Javi.   

“Will you please just give us a minute, Murph?” Javi sighed, running his hand through his hair, trying with every bone in his body to keep his patience with his drunken friend. 

“Fine, fine, fine. 1 minute. I’m counting. Use your time wisely and appropriately, you sickos.” Steve snickered, disappearing down the hallway, only to peek his head back out around the corner. “And Jav?”

“What, Murph?” 

“Your fly’s undone.”

As you and Javi sheepishly made your way back out to the backyard, you couldn't have been more relieved to see that at this point, anyone still left at your reception was far too drunk to care that you had been missing, seeing that almost all of your guests were out on the dance floor, partying away without a care in the world, or any inkling of what you and Javi had been up to. 

“Longer than a minute, but beggars can’t be choosers I guess.” Steve chuckled, creeping up behind you with two drinks in hand, passing them both off to you and Javi. “Here. Figured I owe ya a drink. These are on me.” 

“We paid for the bar, Murph.” 

“Alright, well I guess these ones are on you, Grumpy Pants.”  Steve grumbled mockingly, holding up his hands in defense, trying not to stumble over his own two feet as he made his way back to the dance floor. 

“Remind me again why I picked him to be my best man?” Javi laughed, taking a sip of his drink, the both of you snickering as you watched Steve whip out some questionable dance moves to “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen blaring in the background and Connie shake her head at her husband. 

“Because you love him. Don’t get me wrong, he’s an idiot, but he’s a good guy.” You smiled, giving Javi a little nudge, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the dance floor. “Hey-” You paused, holding up your glass and raising it to Javi’s. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers to what, Osita?” Javi asked, wrapping his arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he brought his glass next to yours. 

“Cheers to us. I love you so much, Javier Peña, it makes me sick. Sicker than all this tequila is gonna make me tomorrow after I keep drinking it the rest of the night.” 

The two of you snorted, goofily clinking your glasses and taking a hefty sip of your drinks as you looked out on the dance floor, your hearts overflowing with love and joy to know that you were surrounded by all of the people in the world you cared about most, even the ones that couldn’t be physically with you, to celebrate the biggest day of your life and the start of your new forever. 

“Cheers, Hermosa. I love you so goddamn much. Maybe the hangover will help distract the nerves on the flight tomorrow.” Javi smirked, taking another sip of his drink as he shook you playfully in his grasp, your faces both lighting up as you remembered that tomorrow, you be in the Bahamas for the next 10 days, where the only thing you needed to worry about was where you wanted to lay on the beach, what drink you wanted in your hand, and now, seeing how quickly Javi could get you pregnant. 

“Oh shut up.” You sighed, giving Javi a little slap to the chest before taking another sip of your drink, looking up at Javi with heavy lashes, batting your eyes at him. “You just have to remind me that I have to do some unpacking before we leave tomorrow.” 

“Unpacking?” Javi asked, tilting his head in confusion at you, the gears in his brain turning as you bit down on your lip, raising your eyebrow at him, waiting for him to piece together your clue. “Oh. Oh.” 

Javi’s eyes went wide as he remembered what you meant, heart racing in anticipation, never imagining before today that he would have been so excited to actively throw away birth control to try and have a kid.

“Can we throw it away tonight?” Javi pleaded, his puppy dog eyes in full effect. 

“I’m not sure what difference tonight and tomorrow morning is gonna make, but sure. Happy wedding present.” You giggled, pressing up onto your tiptoes to plant a long, hot kiss. 

“Best fucking gift I could ask for besides the fact I finally get to call you my wife.” 

As the end of the song slowly faded out, “Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)” began to play next in the background, your face lighting up in excitement and Javi’s eyes rolling, hearing the song that had been most likely the biggest controversy of your entire wedding planning process now bumping through the speakers, followed by the cheers and hollers of your guests. 

“I told you people would want to hear this song.” You said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest, popping your hip at Javi as you sassed him, making him shake his head at your theatrics. 

“It doesn’t stop it from being a stupidly annoying song.” 

“A stupidly annoying song that people love. A stupidly annoying song that your wife loves.” You teased. “Whaddya say, Peña, can you stand this unbearably stupid song to go dance with me? 

“I’d dance to this song with you a million times if it means I get to dance with you.” 

Grabbing Javi by the hand, you tugged him out to the dance floor in a fit of giggles and smiles, jumping along and dancing to the beat song after song the rest of the night with your friends, family and husband. 

You couldn't help but catch yourself stopping now and again to smile to yourself to take everything in, feeling like you needed to pinch yourself to make sure this was all really real. Just over a year ago, your life felt like it had hit an all time low. You had moved halfway across the country to try and run from your pain, desperate to find any way to bring yourself any ounce of peace in your ocean of hurt. It felt like fate had forsaken you for the worst, kicking you while you were down, and leaving destruction in its wake. 

But never in a million years would you have believed that fate would have sent you with a one way ticket to Laredo, Texas, and that trip would bring so much more than just the glimmer of hope you longed for. It had brought you peace, comfort, the acceptance you weren’t sure you would have ever allowed yourself to feel. Laredo had brought you everything you never expected, and all of the things you never thought you deserved. 

It brought you Javi- the man who single handedly changed your life for the better, loving you unconditionally for every part of your being and piecing back together the parts of your heart you had left broken.

It brought you the man you now got to call your husband. 

Fate and life have funny ways of working together to bring you the things you need the most when you least expect them. And today, as you got to marry the love of your life and your very best friend, you knew you’d be forever thankful that fate stepped in when you needed it most. 

La vida es graciosa, no lo crees? (Life is funny, isn’t it?)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @amyispxnk @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 1

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: your estranged brother Steve drops by your apartment in New York in hopes of reconciliation and a temporary place to stay. Reluctant, you agree, but get more than what you've been told when you meet your mysterious new neighbor—and coincidentally, Steve's best friend.

word count: 2.1k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

series masterlist | AO3

Perhaps he shouldn’t be this nervous. Perhaps the severity of the situation is just in his head.

But then again, it’s been a while since he’s seen you. And while you did keep in touch over the years, he’s not stupid enough to think that your relationship isn’t strained anymore.

It very much is.

Maybe this new chapter in his life can mean a fresh start for the two of you. He’d love to be friends with you and do his duties as a bigger brother properly.

“I think it’s cute you’re nervous,” Connie smiles at him.

Steve squeezes her hand tighter, a firm reassurance he seeks that yes, this is all mostly in his head and you won’t turn them away. Olivia coos in Connie’s arms and Steve reaches to pinch her nose playfully, to which she giggles.

“We haven’t seen each other in years,” he says absentmindedly. “Kept in touch briefly but… you know.”

“You’re overthinking this. She’s your sister. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, she’s not heartless.”

“I know. I’m counting on the fact that she at least likes you better than me. And let’s face it, no one can refuse Olivia.”

Connie smiles as she watches Steve tickle their daughter, taking a deep breath. She’d known about you and Steve’s strained relationship and she knows what caused the fallout too, but she is far too sensible to say it flat out. She suspects Steve is aware of it too; he’s too smart not to.

But showing up unannounced on your doorstep, asking for a temporary place of residence till their place is ready might be stretching it too far.

“Okay,” Steve exhales long, staring at the door. “Number eighteen. Here we are.”

“Do you want me to knock?”

“No, it’s fine.”

With one last deep breath, Steve finally knocks on the door, his heart in his throat. The anticipation is nearly tearing him apart. Last time he saw you was before he embarked on the dangerous trip to Colombia, and the farewell hadn’t been that emotional.

Yet somehow, standing in front of this wooden door with a massive knot in his throat and stomach is very much emotional.

At last, a figure opens the door, the face obviously surprised and doing nothing to conceal it.

“Steve,” you coo, taken aback.

“Hey, sis.”

You stare at each other for what feels like the longest time, and it’s not until your eyes land on Connie that you brighten up.

“Long time no see huh?” Steve smiles rather awkwardly.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

You don’t hug; there is a certain awkwardness that still runs between the two of you, taunting you both, and you allow for it. After all, you know more about your stubborn and overly-protective version of Steve than you know of the version you were once friends with.

You sure were close when you were kids.

Whenever your parents weren’t around, Steve was the one to watch over you. He’s three years older, which means he carried your backpack, lunchbox, even made you lunch on some days as he guided you to the classroom himself. He always had your back and you always had his. For years, Steve was the only real friend you could count on.

But as you grew into adolescence, Steve’s instincts began to worsen and toughen. Where he exuded the typical big brother protectiveness as a kid, as a teenager he became almost unbearable. Always had a say in who you were dating and trying to sabotage your dates and relationships and even though you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt a lot of the time, thinking he had the best intentions, you started to argue with each other all the time.

And slowly but surely, you and Steve drifted apart.

You kept in touch over the past few years, especially when you learned that he was going to work in Colombia in the DEA, but there is still resentment to be felt.

“Hi Con, great to see you again,” you smile wide. “And who’s this little lady?”

You smile as you approach the baby, curious and giggling at you.

“This is Olivia,” Connie explains, beaming. “Steve found her in a building back in Colombia, her mother shot dead next to her and next thing we knew, we adopted her.”

“Oh, poor thing. It’s so amazing what you guys did for her.”

Olivia grabs your finger, still inspecting you with big eyes. You play a little more with her, teasing and chuckling when she does, momentarily forgetting that you’re face to face with your estranged brother, your sister-in-law and your niece.

Oh God. You’re an aunt.

“Okay, so what brings you guys here?” you finally ask. “I get the feeling it’s not just to introduce me to my niece.”

“Not exactly, no,” Steve admits, rather embarrassed.

When he’s met with your questionable glare, Steve clears his throat, suddenly very nervous.

“Well,” Connie takes the reins instead, “Steve got a job at a local precinct here as a consultant. Basically helping with the crimes and whatnot, but not on the field. We agreed it’s best for him after all the mess in Colombia.”

“Understandable.”

“And we did get an apartment, but it won’t be ready for two weeks. Sanitizing and all that. So uh… we were hoping we could stay with you till it’s ready.”

“A couple of weeks you said.”

“Mhm.”

Steve doesn’t like the tone of your voice.

“I do have a roommate you know,” you say in a flat voice, and he gulps. “You remember Sylvia, right? She went to college with me?”

“Oh yeah, small, blonde, green eyes…”

Connie raises her brows at him. “Wow, you do have a type, don’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“We know it’s a lot to ask and that we sprung this on you out of the blue, but we had nowhere else to go. Renting a hotel here is… shockingly expensive.”

“Sadly, that is true. But anyway, about Sylvie, both our names are on the lease and we split the rent, but for the past four months she’s basically moved in with her boyfriend, Zack. She rarely comes around, maybe to have some coffee with me or breakfast. So I suppose she won’t mind if you take her room for a couple of weeks.”

Connie’s face brightens, while Steve’s knots loosen up, feeling slightly more at ease.

“Thank you so much,” Connie smiles and you reciprocate happily. “Olivia won’t be much trouble either, I’m sure. She’s pretty calm. And she seems to really like you.”

“Well the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it? Yeah!”

Steve can’t help but smile at the image of his little sister and his daughter giggling, a little something that makes him think perhaps things will be okay in the end. That maybe the two of you could finally bury the hatchet and become friends again.

He’d love nothing more.

“Murphy?”

Both you and Steve turn to the hallway, the coarse voice catching your attention. But Steve’s face is now riddled with confusion more than anything else.

“Which one?” you ask the stranger. “There’s… three of us here. Four, if you count the baby, but somehow I doubt that’s who you meant.”

The stranger’s brows crease in your direction, as if studying you really upfront. He’s wearing a turquoise shirt, tucked neatly into his jeans and a leather jacket atop, and he’s… well. He is handsome, that much is certain. Dark chestnut hair combed, chocolate eyes, filled with something dark and mysterious, freshly shaven face and moustache. Generally speaking, you don’t like guys with moustaches. But somehow, this guy makes it work.

Really well.

But that’s just the first impression. He could still be an axe killer.

“I meant Steve,” the stranger clarifies, approaching him and shakes his hand, much to your dismay. “Hey, Con.”

“Hi, Javi.”

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks him.

“Moved in upstairs. Been living here for a couple of days already.”

Your mind tries to trace back to the past several days, wondering if you’d had any interaction with the man—Javi, apparently—but you can’t think of anything. You must’ve probably dismissed his existence altogether.

Surely you would’ve remembered him otherwise.

“Of course you did,” Steve notices with an awkward smile on his face and a long exhale.

You clear your throat, purposely loud, which catches the attention of the men.

“Right, sorry. Javier, this is my sister.”

You give him your name as you shake his hand, warm and soft into yours. Your eyes lock, and for the briefest of seconds, you see a whole other world in his eyes. A world where there’s no restraint, no distractions, no one else but the two of you.

Holy shit. This reminds you of the other guys you dated in high school, how their bad boy allure sucked you in without any warning.

Is this Javier a bad boy too? That would suck, considering they used to be your kryptonite.

“Javier Peña, hola señorita,” he retorts, and you make an impressed face.

Manners. Huh. That’s something none of your former boyfriends possessed.

“So this is the infamous Javier Peña,” you say, your eyes scanning his face.

“Depends on what you heard.”

“I heard you made a fantastic partner for my brother and you had each other’s backs.”

“Then yeah, that would be me.”

You smile fleetingly, and Steve coughs. “Hey Jav, can I talk to you for a bit?”

“Alright.”

“I’ll—help Connie and Olivia settle in.”

The moment you disappear inside the apartment, Steve turns to Javier, his hands on his hips as he tries to compose his thoughts.

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” he begins. “My sister’s off limits.”

Javier’s frown deepens. “I’m not gonna do anything.”

“That’s what you always say before you do something. And that something is usually any woman within a ten mile radius.”

Javier scoffs. Much as he’d like to argue against his friend’s words, he knows damn well that’s exactly how he behaved in the past.

“Fine, point taken,” Javier admits. “But I don’t do that anymore. It’s a closed chapter. And c’mon, I’d never hurt you or anyone from your family.”

“No, I know. Didn’t mean to imply… it’s just…” Steve huffs before continuing. “Heads up, she can be kind of a pain in the ass. Growing up, even if she’s my little sister, she’s the one who bullied me. So for your own sake, and hers, hands off.”

“Well now I kinda wanna fool around with her.”

Noticing Steve’s darkened expression, which is a rare occurrence in and of itself, Javier puts both hands in the air, signaling surrender of some sort.

“I’m kidding!” he does his best to laugh it off. “I’m kidding, I swear.”

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say you won’t put any moves on my sister.”

Even if Javier rolls his eyes, he concedes. “I won’t put any moves on your sister.”

“Good, thank you.”

“What if she puts the moves on me though? I can reciprocate then, right?”

Steve’s face darkens again.

“I’m kidding! Shit, you’re really pissy about this.”

“She better not put any moves on you either,” Steve groans. “Unfortunately, you’re just the type of guy she used to go for in the past. And it never ended well.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

“Don’t be. She used to have a huge thing for bad boys and it’s part of why our relationship got so cold. I tried to keep her away from them but she got sneakier and smarter, we fought a lot…”

“I promise I won’t do anything.”

Javier puts a reassuring hand over his shoulder, and that seems to calm Steve down. He hadn’t ever seen the latter so agitated and anxious, and that says a lot considering the environment they worked in for several years.

“If you two are done cuddling, Connie’s asking for you,” your voice booms behind them.

Steve complies and goes inside the apartment, leaving you and Javier alone for a single moment.

“I guess I’ll see you around, neighbor,” you say.

Javier doesn’t say anything, allowing you to close the door and disappear into the apartment. He faintly remembers Steve mentioning he has a younger sister, but he never really paid attention. He didn’t care.

And he doesn’t care now. Sure, you’re a pretty girl, but you are far from his type. You’re more next-door-girl kind of attractive, and not that there’s anything wrong with that, nothing whatsoever; it’s just not what Javier goes for.

He supposes that will make things easier for him to keep his promise.

next

tags: @pedrostories @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs

[suugarbabe]

[Chapter 8]

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of drinking/drunkeness, mentions of blood, kidnapping, torture, use of torture curses

An: so sorry this took so long, I was sick and mentally exhausted from other things and also debating where to end the chapter and where to start the next one; hope its alright :)

Enzo clutched his arm, rubbing the spot you had just harshly hit with your fist, “Okay, ow! You didn’t have to hit me that hard, Angel. T’was just a joke, yeh?” You rolled your eyes, picking up the box in front of you and setting it on the pallet. “You know she wouldn’t have hit you if you weren’t being such a twat,” Pansy spoke without looking up from her clipboard, marking off which weapons from the artillery stock you and Enzo were packing for the next ‘business meeting’ and what was left.

You shot a sickly sweet smile Enzo’s way, “Yeah, Enz, don’t be such a twat.” Enzo scoffed, “I was not being a twat! I simply asked if I could have your room since you and Riddle obviously sleep together. There’s no point in you each having your own room and I know for a fact he gave you a bigger room than mine.” You reared your fist back as if you were going to hit him again, causing Enzo to flinch slightly. You smirked at this, “You’re the most dangerous of the family but you’re afraid of lil ol’ me?”

Enzo shook his head, “Nuh-uh, I know there’s something else deeply hidden within you that we haven’t seen yet. I’m not pushing my chances. And you’re avoiding the question.” You huffed, placing two large rifles in a long wooden box before turning to face him, hands on your hips, “For your information, if Mattheo and I do sleep in the same room, it’s my room. I’ve never in been in his room. So maybe you should go ask him if you can have his room.” Enzo’s face dropped slightly, “Mmm no, I think I’m good. But answer me this,” the smirk that formed on his face gave way that you were going to hate what he was about to say, “Does Riddle make you call him boss during sex?”

A low groan left Enzo’s throat as he clutched his arm once more, “Shit, Pansy! In the same spot, really?” You high fived Pansy, “Serves you right.” You stuck your tongue out at Enzo, who mirrored your action. Pansy opened her mouth to tell you both to stop acting like such siblings when Draco’s voice rang between your ears, Family meeting, dining room, five minutes. You glanced between the two in front of you, “We all heard that right?” Enzo nodded, “You mean the annoying voice of a ferret ringing in my head?” Pansy slapped Enzo in the arm, in the same place of the two previous punches, “Merlin’s beard, can I not have any fun anymore?”

The three of you apparated back into the foyer of the house, making your way into the dining room to see everyone but Mattheo already sat at the table. You took your place to the left of Mattheo’s chair, still glaring and making faces at Enzo sitting across from you. Theo leaned closer to Pansy on his left, “What’s with those two?” Pansy shook her head, “Please don’t ask.” Theo opened his mouth to respond again only to be cut off by Mattheo walking in to the room, his presence alone enough to silence the table.

All eyes focused on Mattheo sat at the head of the table. “Tonight is an important deal for us. The De Luca family has been making deals with us since the beginning, they’re some of our most trusted muggle allies. Theo and Enzo, you two will load the pallets on the truck while Blaise, Draco and I go and meet them at the discussed location.” The boys all nodded at their assignments, not questioning what they were told. “What about us?” You motioned between yourself and Pansy, essentially halting some of the boys midway as they had begun to stand up. Almost as if he anticipated your questioning, Mattheo had a simple answer for you. “You’re not going.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, “And why the bloody hell not?” Mattheo’s jaw clenched momentarily as others around the table widened their eyes. No one spoke to Mattheo that way, not when it came to business deals. Taking a deep breath to center himself before turning to you, his eyes a dark onyx as he spoke, “You’re not ready.” You narrowed your eyes at him, clearly not satisfied with his answer. Mattheo mirrored you, not stepping down from his decision, “I understand this may be frustrating, but I’m not willing to risk a repeat of the last time. You’re just not ready yet.”

It was your jaw that clenched now, “A repeat of the last time?” Mattheo had his tongue in cheek, clearly trying to keep his composure and his tone authoritative, “Yes, the last time. Lest not forget you nearly getting sexually assaulted and the boys and I having to kill five fucking people, or has that occurrence slipped your pretty little mind, Princess?” You tensed slightly, your eyes squeezing shut at the memory. Forcing yourself to meet his gaze you tried to match his demeanor, “No, Mattheo, it has not.” He gave you a saccharine smile that you took as anything but sweet. Leaning back in your chair you crossed your arms, pouting in defeat.

Mattheo felt a strange pang in his chest, like a tight ache that was telling him to change his mind, but he had to stand his ground, “You and Pansy have the night off. Enjoy it. It won’t happen much in the future.” He avoided your gaze, looking everywhere but your eyes because he knew once he did he would give in. Instead he kept his stare the the black mahogany beneath his tapping fingertips, “I’m doing you a favor. You have the night off.” You leaned forward on your elbows, making sure to keep your tone sweet and even, “Thank you, boss, I truly appreciate it.” The use of his title stung, but he did not have the time to dwell on his feelings.

Giving the boys all a curt nod, the group stood. Each man disappearing with a chorus of crack-like pops. When the last one was out of site you turned to Pansy, letting out a frustrated, “Can you fucking believe that?” At the same time she blew out a laughing, “You are so fucking lucky, Birdie.” You blinked at her in confusion, “Lucky? How am I lucky? I essentially just got sat from a business deal because other men can’t handle I have fucking tits.” Pansy just smirked, shaking her head, “The sooner you acknowledge your feelings for each other the better all of our lives will be. I mean him too by the way. That little lovers quarrel you guys had at the table had us all at the edge of our seats. You should’ve heard the things Theo was saying.”

You groaned, “Spare me.” Pansy couldn’t help but laugh, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “C’mon. Let’s go shopping or something, get your mind off it. We have the night off, remember?” You smiled then. A slow, almost sinister smile that had Pansy shaking her head. You stood up, walking out from the dinning room. Pansy was quick on your heels as you hustled up the stairs, “No. Birdie, whatever it is you’re thinking the answer is no.” You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the wheels in your mind from turning, “He told us we had the night off, Pans. Then let’s do what any hot, single women would do…let’s go out.” You walked into your room, making a b-line for your closet, “Help me pick out an outfit.”

You turned to see her still standing in the doorway, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. “Oh come on,” you walked back towards her, grasping her wrist and dragging her inside fully. “Help me pick one out and I’ll pick one out for you. You know they never come back from these business deals until the next day, hell, sometimes the next evening depending on how it goes. We’ll go out for a few hours, have some fun, and then we’ll be back here asleep in bed before they even knew we were gone.” Pansy chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Just one club?” You took your index finger, lifting it up to the center of your chest and making a small ‘x’ motion, “Cross my heart.”

Pansy’s shoulders relaxed then, her smiled growing two fold, “Okay…then I say wear,” she flicked through your options, giving a sad pout after a moment, “Wear something of mine, because for Salazar’s sake, Birdie, we need to take you shopping.” You groaned out a slight giggle, “I know…maybe if I play my cards right I can convince Mattheo to buy me some.” You were mostly joking, but the look Pansy gave you told you it would be worth a try in the future. After a few outfit changes, the two of you were turning in the mirror and examining your final choices. After much debate, you finally landed on a blood red corset top with a black leather skirt while pansy opted for a black body-con minidress.

You let out a low whistle as you took in your reflection, “Salazar’s fucking sake we look good.” Pansy nodded, “If we don’t get free drinks tonight, there’s something wrong with the male society.” You huffed a laugh in agreement. After a few finishing touches to your hair and makeup, the two of you apparated down the street from the dance club. As the two of you made your way down the pavement, you were acutely aware of how different you felt compared to a few months ago. “You know, Pans, I haven’t been out like this in a long time,” you hooked your elbow with hers as you guys approached the line to get in. Pansy leaned her head on your shoulder briefly, “We’re gonna have a good time tonight, Birdie. You deserve it. Just relax and let loose. Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again.” You giggled, smiling sweetly at the bouncer as he nodded and let the both of you in without hesitation.

As you entered the club the sound of bass was nearly overwhelming. You could only mildly hear the melody to whatever song was playing, let alone your own thoughts. Pansy hooked her fingers with yours as she led a path towards the bar. You could feel men’s eyes on the pair of you the whole way up. While at your own club Pansy was stoic and focused on her job, this seemed to be an environment where she thrived. Pansy gave a particular pair of tall, handsome men a wink as she squished the two of you between another pair of guys. “Oh, excuse me handsome, we were just trying to get a few drinks, maybe a shot or two,” Pansy’s tone was coated in honey as she batted her eyelashes at the broad blonde next to her.

Her seduction trick was flawless, the blonde man buying both shots and both cocktails. She thanked him and gave a pat to his cheek before dragging you to the dance floor. This became a repeated pattern for the night: bar, batted eyelashes, dance floor. You had to give it to her, the routine worked. “Go on, Birdie you try. How about…” her eyes dragged over the sea of bodies near the bar, “him.” Her manicured finger pointed at a taller man near the center of the bar. He was handsome sure, tanned skin and dark curls on the top of his head, “Why him?” Pansy gave you an incredulous look, “Because he looks like Mattheo.” You were thankful for the amount of alcohol in your system to help hide the burning blush that flooded your cheeks, “Okay, fine.”

You made your way to the bar, Pansy close behind. As you got closer you tried a different approach than Pansy’s earlier tactic. Coming up to the man you stood directly behind him. You motioned for Pansy to stand next to you, her giving you a questioning look. The bar area was crowded, and all you needed for you plan to work was exactly what was about to happen. As another group of people tried to squish through the crowd behind you, your body was bumped forward, causing you to put your hand out and catch yourself on the man in front of you. As you’d hoped, the man turned around and you made your eyes wide and innocent as you looked up at him through your lashes, “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. These crowds are terrible.”

The man smiled down at you, his eyes weren’t the same as Mattheo’s. The man’s were more of a walnut brown and felt cold, like this was all a game to him just as much you . His smile also was nothing near as stunning as Mattheo’s…but regardless the man was clearly falling for the charm you’d put on, eyeing you up and down as he spoke, “Oh it’s quite alright, beautiful.” You let out a bashful laugh, looking down at the ground. The man caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your gaze back to his, “Let me buy you a drink, your friend too.” His eyes flickered over your shoulder to Pansy.

“O-okay,” the boldness of his touch causing you to stutter over your words. Your chest ached once he turned to order the drinks. The interaction didn’t leave you as satisfied as it did Pansy, if anything it left you yearning for something else. You turned to Pansy after the man handed you the drinks, “I didn’t like that.” She hummed in acknowledgement, “Yeah I was more so testing a theory.” You raised both eyebrows at her, “Mind telling the whole class, Miss Parkinson?” Pansy shook her head, smiling as she downed half her drink, “Not, yet, Professor.”

The more you drank the more your chest ached. And the more you felt yourself longing for him. You were far beyond inebriated, not thinking clearly, but what Pansy couldn’t hear couldn’t hurt her. Mattheoooooo, you closed your eyes and called out to him, not even knowing where he was with the deal, if he was possibly fighting someone. You just wanted to hear his voice. Princess…what’s wrong? You smiled to yourself. You were sure to Pansy it seemed like you were just enjoying the music as your body still ebbed and flowed with the beat.

Mattheo’s frown turned down further, something that wasn’t unusual during business meet ups, but this one was going fairly well. “What’s up, boss?” Enzo leaned in to whisper to him. Mattheo held up a finger, trying to focus on your voice in his head, Teeeooooooo, miss youu. Mattheo’s jaw clenched, Birdie, where are you? You hated using your legimens, the fact that you were communicating with Mattheo that way, along with how you were talking was causing him high concern. I’m dancing wiff Pansy, she’s such a good dancer, Teo. I wish I was dancing with yoooou. Mattheo eyed Draco, silently telling him to take the lead before Mattheo walked off back towards the truck. Birdie, are you drunk? There’s no fucking dance floor at the house? Where the fuck are you?

He rubbed both hands over his face, trying to control his breathing. Not drunk…maybe drunk…don’t member the club name, like a pretty flower. Mattheo walked back towards the others, “Are you happy with the product or not?” He was being stern with the man but Mattheo needed this deal over with. The De Luca family member nodded his head, “Yeah, we’re happy. Well wire you the money first thing in the mornin’. Always good doin’ business with you, Riddle.” Mattheo nodded, shaking the man’s hand before grabbing Enzo’s collar and dragging him away with it. “Ow, woah, hey what the fuck?” Enzo was confused by the motion. “Birdie and Pansy went to a fucking club and now Birdies drunk, we have to go get them.”

Theo jogged to catch up, “Which club did our little trouble makers go to?” Mattheo scowled slightly, “This isn’t a fucking joke, Nott. And she said something about a pretty flower? She’s fucking drunk, she’s fucking talking to me through legimens and even then I can tell she’s slurring her words. You were a man whore in your prime, Nott, which club is that.” Theo huffed out a snort but didn’t deny Matthoe’s allegations, “Sounds like probably The Dahlia.” Mattheo nodded, “Draco, Blaise, you two take the truck back. Enzo, Theo, you’re coming with me.” The boys all nodded at their assignments as Mattheo reached out to you again, Stay put, Princess, I’m coming to get you. He rounded the corner with the other two boys to make sure they were out of sight before apparating to the alley down the block from the club.

Your voice rang in his head once more, Are you going to dance with me Teo? I miss you so m- Mattheo stopped in his tracks the moment your voice cut out causing the two behind him to almost smack into his back. “What is it, what happened?” Enzo was taking in their surroundings checking for threats he may have missed. “Her voice, it just…cut out. She was talking to me and then it was like something cut it off before she could finish.” Enzo wore a worried look, glancing over at Theo whose lips were downturned. Mattheo started walking again, only faster this time. As they approached the entrance to the club, the bouncer must have recognized Theo because he pulled back the rope and allowed the three men in without question.

As they approached the edge of the dance floor Mattheo gave one instruction, “Find them.” The three spread out, weaving through swaying, sweaty bodies as they tried to catch a glimpse of anyone that looked remotely like either you or Pansy. Running into Theo, Enzo asked if he had any luck. Theo shook his head, “Not yet. Every bloody black haired woman looks like Pansy out here and I can’t catch a glimpse of Birdie anywhere.” Mattheo approached the two, eyes asking the same question Enzo had moments before. Theo shook his head, Enzo’s height giving him an advantage in the middle of the crowd. “There,” he pointed over the heads of those around him. Theo and Mattheo turn, following his indication until they’re face to face with a very far gone Pansy.

She pouted as they approached, assuming they were there to break up the fun. She opened her mouth to complain when Matthoe effectively cut her off, “Where’s Birdie.” Pansy rolled her eyes, turning around the point at the person behind her. Only you weren’t there. Pansy turned in a circle, once, twice, three times before stopping and facing the men in front of her. “I swear, Mattheo, she was just here. She’s been by my side all night. We were dancing on each other not even five minutes ago.” Mattheo’s face grew hot, a sense of worry rushing over him that he’s never felt before for any kind of person, “What do you mean she was just here. Where the bloody fucking hell would she go?”

———-

You groaned lightly, your head pounding as you tried to sit up. The floor beneath you hard and cold, your outfit doing little for warmth. As you pushed yourself to a seated position you felt a weight in one of your wrists. Looking down you saw your wrist wrapped in a thick metal cuff, a chain attaching it, and effectively you, to the wall behind it. “What the fuck…” a low whisper left your lips as your eyes started to adjust to your surroundings. The floor below you was concrete, leaving a persistent chill running throughout your body. Around you seemed to be the layout of an old factory, abandon machinery and materials littered about the space. It was darker in the building, the emergency lights appearing to be the only functioning electricity around you.

Hugging your knees to yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to call out to Mattheo. You repeated his name, over and over and over. You groaned out in frustration, slapping the floor next to you, causing the chains to rattle. “Whatever it is you are trying to do will not work.” You stiffened, the sound of his voice was something you thought you had forgotten, but hearing it ring through your ears once more brought a flood of painful memories with it. You looked around, trying to anticipate the direction the voice was coming from, the the old walls of the factory had the sound reverberated from every direction. “You know I didn’t think you’d be knocked out this long. But then again, your drunken state must have heightened the effects of the Stupefy charm.”

You watched his figure emerge from the shadows, the fear you once felt quickly returning like a white hot burn all over your body. You scooted yourself back until you were nearly flat against the wall, your knees hugged to your chest as his name fell from your lips like a ghosted whisper, “Damiano…” He smiled, flashing all of his teeth like a snarling predator as he towered over you, “Hello, Sunshine. Did you miss me?” You stayed silently, trying to press yourself impossibly further away, leading him to let out a low and menacing chuckle. He squatted down to your level, forearms resting on his knees as he balanced himself on the balls of his feet. He reached out slowly, like he was going to touch your face. You turned quickly, swatting his hand away.

He smiled once more before grabbing your face harshly, forcing your gaze to meet his, “Don’t be like that, Sunshine. I’m being very nice only chaining one arm down, but if you misbehave I have no qualms doing the other.” You huffed out your nose, still refusing to speak to him. You closed your eyes once more, desperately trying to reach Mattheo, or anyone from the family for help. Damniano applied more pressure to his grip, surely leaving the beginning of what would be a bruise on your face when he was done. “I already told you…your little tricks your new boyfriend taught you aren’t going to work. I figured he was a legimens like his failure of a father. I put a spell on the building; he can’t hear you and you can’t hear him.” Your lip quivered slightly, a new sense of fear enveloping you.

Damiano tsked at you, “I knew it. I always knew you were a stupid, weak, little witch.” He let go of your face before swinging his palm and slapping your cheek with enough force to split your bottom lip. You gasped, coughing slightly to catch your breath again, spitting blood onto the cold stone before you. You glared at him, “You think I’m weak because I’m not like you? Abusing and torturing those that don’t agree or don’t do my bidding? Why am I even here, Damiano. What do you want with me?” He looked down at you once more, a devious smirk adorning his features, “This is why you’re stupid, Sunshine. Can you not see it? Godric, okay. Let me spell it out for you. I don’t want you. You’re nothing to me. Even when you were mine you were nothing, just a tool. And that’s what you are today. Well…more like…a tool.”

Your face fell, which only caused a laugh to emit from his throat, “Oh dear girl, don’t worry. We’re not going to kill you. But we’re going to make sure Mattheo and the rest of his little group get the message. He stole something valuable from me. You, Sunshine, were nothing, but your abilities were everything. I can’t just steal you back or he’ll sick his fucking dog Berkshire. Can’t have that can we? But what I can do, is send him a fucking message.” He drew his wand as he stood a few feet away from you. You held your breath, trying to prepare for whatever he was about to unleash, but nothing could help with what he casted. With a red light leaving the tip of his wand your body was instantly aflame with pain, your muscles and limbs contorting and squeezing with agony. Your breath felt like it was knocked from your lungs, your mouth agape and gasping for air.

Two more figures appeared beside Damiano, their wands also drawn and prepped for whatever torture they were directed with. After a few moments he broke the spell, grinning as you gasped for air and tried to hold your body up from the floor. “You know, I was really hoping you would scream. I sometimes find myself missing the sound of you squealing in pain when I used to punish you. No one has quite the same ring to it you had. Guess I’ll just have to up the intensity of it all. Boys,” he turned to his cronies on either side of him, “together this time.” In perfect unison the mumbled the spell together Crucio. Immediately your back arched off the floor, your arms and legs contorting awkwardly as the searing pain once again entered your body. A blood curdling scream left your throat, the sound nearly as defeating as the pain you were feeling. Your eyes rolled at the immense pain, your mind going blank.

As you felt like you were on the brink of passing out, Damiano instructed them all to stop. He turned to them once more, giving specific instructions, “I want you to rough her up a bit more, but don’t touch her face. I want her to be recognizable when they find her. The two men nodded before approaching you together. You managed to sit yourself up again, holding yourself up on wobbly arms. This position didn’t last as one of Damiano’s men quickly landed the heel of his boot to your shoulder, your collarbone cracking with the action. You flew back slightly at the action and collapsed on your back. You groaned in pain, clutching the area and turning to your side. The men began kicking you; in the stomach, in the ribs, in the back. You were a rag doll for their game of human football, barely audible grunts and moans slipping past your lips. “That’s enough,” Damniano’s voice rang out. You coughed, spitting out more blood that seemed to fill your mouth.

The two men left your side immediately, walking back to their previous positions to watch as Damiano approached you. He crouched over you again, taking your face in his hands. With his thumb he spread your blood over your lips, “I always did like red on you.” You tried to pull away, but your strength was null, “Like I said, Sunshine, you…are weak. But you were mine first. And I can’t let you, or anyone else, forget that.” He shoved you from his grip, you falling back down to the ground. You were limp on the cold concrete as Damiano lifted your skirt over your hips. You felt him grip the meat of your thigh closer to your hip before the tip of his wand began to dig into your skin with a white hot burn. A whimper left your throat as he carved into your skin; you could smell it burning. Once done he grabbed the back of your head, tilting your neck awkwardly so you could see his handiwork on your body. On the outside of your thigh, closer to your hip was a small symbol that would make it impossible for you to ever see it without thinking of Damiano. A sun.

A single tear fell down your cheek, Damiano leaning in and licking it off your face with a satisfied hum. “You know I love it when you cry, Sunshine. But I can’t stick around to watch. As soon as I’m gone, the blocking spells will be lifted. Then you can call your little dark lord boyfriend. You’re at 1538 Woodbury Lane in London. Really wish I could see his face when he finds you.” He pulled your skirt back down over your legs once more, patting your leg where he just carved your skin before walking away and apparating out of sight with a low popping noise. You waited a few moments, just to make sure he wasn’t coming back, before tightly shutting your eyes, your entire focus on Mattheo and anyone else in the family that might be able to hear you.

1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. You repeated the address over and over again until finally you heard him, We’re on our way, Princess, don’t move. You opened your eyes, at the sound of his voice, tears now flowing freely down your face. The irony of that statement ‘don’t move’ was not lost on you, causing a forced laugh from your lungs. With Mattheo’s confirmation that he was coming, you finally allowed your body to relax into the concrete below you. As if that was all the permission your body needed, your eyes felt heavy and soon, everything became dark.

[adonis-koo]

sweet nothing • 3

(in which he's coddled for coming home late and wet)

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word Count: 3k

Previous | Next

Note: yet another chapter not proof read but honestly ?? I like to think it gives it character

Rain poured against the window seal in a never ending drip, thunder roaring out once more causing you to jump in your spot, clenching your book harder than before.

You always had anxiety when it came to loud noises, let alone monstrous storms that blew through, you had been a good distance away from the windows in the parlor, snuggled up against the couch, one hand on your tummy and the other resting on top of it with a book.

Cautiously you peered out the windows into the darkness of the night before back to the grandfather clock against the wall, it was almost eleven.

“Will he be okay?” You couldn’t help but ask, turning to Yeonjun who had been typing away on his laptop, sat at an oak desk off in the corner.

His fingers paused as his feline gaze drew up at you, a small smile tugging on his lips, “It’s not uncommon for Jungkook to stay out late, he out doing business so he won’t get in until three the earliest.”

Business.

That’s all you could get out of anyone, anytime you tried to pry just about every guard was mums the word, you knew Jungkook dealt in narcotics due to your brother being one of his lower level dealers.

But you knew Jungkook had to be involved in more than that, there was no way someone as rich and prestigious as him only involved in one branch of the underworld. You supposed it didn’t matter, but the idea of him being out in this weather was still making you anxious.

You didn’t see him yesterday either, he was also out doing business and you had ended up falling asleep before he got back, you didn’t see him at breakfast either, as he had apparently already gotten up and with on his way to an emergency company meeting at his exports firm.

There was no way this was healthy for him to be running so ragged, not only this but it was cold outside too! He could catch a cold if he wasn’t careful.

“I doubt this will make a difference but…” Yeonjun trailed off for a moment before he spoke, “Jungkook said to not wait up for him today.”

You crossed your arms at this, “I haven’t seen him in nearly two days. Will he be here in the morning?”

Yeonjun didn’t reply immediately which made you huff.

He sighed, “He’s a busy man, I’m sure you’ll see him soon,” Yeonjun frowned, “He may be soft on you but he isn’t on me, I’ll never hear the end of it if you stop sleeping because of him.”

“Then maybe that will motivate him to not work so hard.” You pouted, “Yeonjun, are you not able to assist him at all in these…affairs…” You hesitated uncertain of how to word it, you knew Yeonjun was an underling but you didn’t know much more than that, other than he was the one in the driver's seat when you were shoved into the car when you were first abducted.

Yeonjun laughed, “Uh that’s exactly what I’m doing right now,” He glanced at his screen before huffing, “It’s not all action and illegal deals. I’ve written like seven emails impersonating him today. When it comes to broader scaled stuff Jungkook usually prefers to handle it himself, makes it less stressful on everyone that way.”

You perked up at this, “So…he’s doing something that's a pretty big deal then?”

Yeonjun nodded but glance away, you could sense his hesitation to elaborate on it, “Yeah, like I said, Jungkook is very hands on, which is nice because once a lot of mobsters hits this point they usually just have an established hierarchy to handle just about everything.”

You leaned back against the couch with a frown, “But he’s hardly slept at all the last week, surely he could have somebody else to help him as well.”

Yeonjun snorted, “It could be worse, he’s got Yoongi to split his duties with, it’s just a big role to fill…” He paused as if realizing what he just said.

“Who’s Yoongi?” You tilted your head.

Yeonjun animatedly shook his head, “I’ve said way too much.”

“Yeonjun!” You pouted, “Why am I not allowed to know anything? I feel like I should at least have the right to know what my brother did!”

He only shook his head once more, “That’s a call for Jungkook to make, I’m not looking to have my frontal lobe painted against the fireplace.”

“Jungkook wouldn’t-”

“Oh he would,” Yeonjun cut you off, playful at first before his face grew more serious, “I have a lot of respect for Jungkook, but I’m not stupid enough to buy into a bond that we don’t have. All it takes is one big fuck up to be dead in this game, i’m not an exception.”

Something about his words made a pit form in your stomach as you pulled your blanket back over your lap, “Why chose this lifestyle then…?”

You didn’t understand.

“Cause’ my dad’s a piece of shit that drowned my family in debt before dying,” Yeonjun went back to typing on his laptop as he continued, “He left us to deal with all of that because he was a selfish cunt, I have three little brothers and my mom is hospitalized so there wasn’t much else to do. I started out street dealing and hijacking narcs from other vendors- horrible idea by the way, anyways they just so happened to be Jungkook’s supply, once he caught wind of it they caught me almost instantly.”

“How did you live?” You cocked your head to the side, engrossed once more.

“Jungkook was impressed that I managed to steal from their supply and make twice the amount they were on their own goods. He basically told me I could either work for him or I could get fucked. Not much of a choice there.” Yeonjun shrugged, “It’s been about three years now and I’ve worked my way up to this position. Like I said, I have a lot of respect for him and I’ll forever be grateful, he’s the one forking out my mom’s hospital bills, but I know better than to cross those lines.”

“Seems like he has a big heart for such a short temper.” You commented, you had only gotten a taste of his temper but it was becoming apparent that the Jungkook you knew before you had been kidnapped was an entirely different person.

It made you wonder just what side of him was real.

“There has to be a balance for everything.” Yeonjun shrugged.

The rain continued to pound against the windows as you yawned, a peaceful silence taking over once more aside from the rain and clicking of a keyboard. You resumed your book though after an hour your eyes finally won out their sleepiness.

Laying your head against the pillow you dozed off.

The next time you awoke it due to a roar of thunder, jumping up before the lights flickered, you briefly glanced at the clock seeing it was almost four in the morning before the room went dark.

“Goddammit,” Yeonjun complained from his desk, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you Y/n.”

“I woke from the thunder.” You glanced in his direction as he turned on his phone light, sighing as he stood up with a stretch, “I need to go tell the guards to turn on the generator, i’ll be back in a moment.”

He excused himself before quietly exiting out of the room as you wrapped yourself in a blanket once more, glancing around in uncertainty, the door opened once more as Yeonjun walked back in.

“Alright, the generator should be on in a half an hour, let's go ahead and make use of the fireplace.” He set up his phone light as he got to work on putting kindle into the fireplace.

The door opened once more with a loud thud of boots on the ground causing you to jump as you turned around to the door, looking over the couch.

Soaking wet hair and a familiar, tired face appearing, “Generator has some fried wiring, go down and help them, I can take it from here.”

Yeonjun nodded, “Welcome back Sir.”

“You’re soaked…” Your lips quivered into a frown as Yeonjun exited the room and Jungkook took his place kneeling in front of the fireplace.

“Yeah,” Jungkook sighed, “And you should be in bed.”

He said it with such disdain, a look on his face equivalent to that of scolding a child it made your lips twist into a pout.

“I haven’t seen you in nearly two days,” You replied, straightening yourself upright as you stared into his back, watching the water droplets patter against the floor as he fiddled with a few thin pieces of bark, “You can’t begrudge me that.”

“That I can’t,” He agreed, “But you can’t tell me that’s a comfortable spot to fall asleep, your back is already in pain as it is.”

“I was perfectly comfortable.” You retorted, “...Did you finish your deal…?”

You glanced away from him in uncertainty, it would soon be coming up on a month that you had been living in Jungkook’s estate, and while you had gotten to know Jungkook decently well, there was one thing you never dared bring up.

Anything that was relevant to his life in the underworld.

It just felt like something that shouldn’t be spoken about though Jungkook had never made any references to make you feel as such before.

Jungkook shrugged, “It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t good, about as usual as it goes.” He lit a match before tossing it in, the tweed like wood immediately setting ablaze as he stood up, groaning at the sight of how wet he was.

You could hardly stand to watch it as you tutted, standing up as you grabbed the blanket that had been in your lap, “You’re going to catch a cold!”

Jungkook sighed in exasperation as the deep maroon blanket suddenly draped over his shoulders as you wrapped it around him as you spoke, “Don’t look at me like that, It’s not that cold when you’re dry, here, come here.”

Jungkook said nothing as he clacked his lips, letting your shorter figure shuffle him over to the couch as you grabbed the other blanket, a much bigger one that had been folded, laying on top of the upper cushion.

Pulling the second one over his shoulders, you paused at the sight, dripping wet hair covering his eyes making him look deathly serious, but it was difficult to take him serious when he was buried in two fuzzy blankets.

“Are you done yet?” He asked with a dry tone, “Or do you wanna swaddle me in a third layer?”

You didn’t mean to let out a snort of amusement, but it was hard not too at how drastic his face was from the situation, “Depends on whether you consider yourself warm yet.”

“I’ll be warm once the fire is going.” Jungkook replied, purposely not answering the question, partly because he would never admit he was freezing to you.

Bit also because it made a fuzzy feeling tingle all over his skin at being fussed over and coddled at, Jungkook couldn’t recall the last time someone had been so worried and attentive over him, it was difficult to not cease the moment.

“Okay, let me see if we have more blankets-” You were stopped short when he reached out, grabbing your wrist with a stern expression that made you giggle, “Fine, fine, have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t try when you end up with a cold.”

“I don’t get colds.” Jungkook replied, far too serious for a man buried in two blankets.

“Everyone gets cold.” You sat down next to him with a huff, putting a hand on your stomach as you stretched, your back admittedly aching though you’d rather die than admit he was right.

“I don’t.” Jungkook shrugged, “When you run two businesses you don’t have time to get sick.”

You frowned as you placed your lips, “I think that’s just called self-negligence.”

Jungkook rubbed his face tiredly, “Is this seriously what you’ve been missing the last two days?”

You only grinned sheepishly as you rubbed your arms, feeling the chilled air prick at your skin as the wood crackled and the rain continued to pour.

“Will you be busy tomorrow?” You asked, finally glancing towards him, he was close enough too you, leaned back against the couch and you took notice in how he seemed to curl up against his blankets, making a brief smile tug on your lips.

“Depends on what your follow up sentence will be,” Jungkook shrugged.

You shook your head, “No follow up sentence, I’m just curious…Does it have to do with Wonho…?”

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled in disdain, a familiar look, anytime you asked about Wonho you were usually met with the same sentence.

“I wish,” He huffed, looking somewhat frustrated, “I have eyes over half of Seoul and nothing, I mean he’s one man and it’s like all of a sudden he’s a ghost. Only people with powerful connections can make that happen.”

You frowned at his words and when he didn’t speak he continued, “I didn’t want to have to ask but, given we're coming up on a month of you staying here, I feel like it’s worth a shot; was Wonho dealing for anyone else?”

Your frown stayed as you thought back to the times you had come with Wonho to the club, partly because he wanted someone else around with him, it was always safer in pairs.

Slowly shook your head, “Not that I can recall…I mean he knew lots of people. But I wouldn’t consider him close enough to any of them to be willing to cover his tracks.”

Jungkook sighed, as if anticipating this as he slowly shook his head, “We squeezed that apartment clean of anything that might relate to where he’s at, we’ve already talked to his other partners, bought out his clients, I mean fuck, Yeonjun even nosed around at the Red Light to see if his whores knew anything.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, pushing it from his eyes as he tiredly closed them while rubbing his face, “How do you catch a ghost?”

It was rhetorical question you wished you had the answer for, your brother was a lot of things, but one of the traits he had since a child was his cunning ability to mislead people, it was harmless as a child.

He used to always convince the street vendor to give you an extra rice cake or when the school bullies would stop him on your walks home, he’d somehow convince them to go bother someone else.

Wonho had a silver tongue, he never used his fists for confrontations.

Memories of your shared childhood made a certain type of sadness flood you, Jungkook may known the Wonho now, who would easily sell you off if it meant a free case of fentanyl, but you still vividly remembered the Wonho who gave you piggyback rides when you were sad, when he would make you ramen for dinner and give you his portion because you were still hungry.

Wonho wasn’t always such a greedy person.

There was a time when he easily sacrificed himself if it meant keeping you safe and happy, you just weren’t sure where things went wrong and he would now turn and do the very opposite if it meant his self preservation continued on.

Your hands rubbed your arms for warmeth as you stared into the fire with a tired yawn, Jungkook had noticed your quiet figure before he let out a small sigh, uncurling once side of his outer blanket, the great big one.

Your body was suddenly engulfed by the blanket, now sharing it with Jungkook as you glanced at him.

“There’s no reason I should have this all to myself,” He huffed, “We could probably fit Yeonjun in here too if we wanted.”

You raised your brows, “Should I go get him?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Y/n, just because I said we could doesn’t mean I want to,” Jungkook replied flatly, “What part of my face says I want him in this room?”

You pouted, “Has anyone ever told you how grumpy you are late at night?”

Jungkook scoffed as he rolled his eyes, leaning back, now slumping against the cushion,

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“What?”

“I’m always grumpy.”

You only smiled at this as you shook your head, yawning once more as your eyes tiredly began to close. For once you didn’t mind the thunder rumbling loud or the rain that somehow began to pound even harder against the glass windows, a comforting crackle of the fire.

Your head eventually slumped down, finding the nice soft fuzzy blanket on above Jungkook’s shoulder, he had yawned out as well, trying to not overthink about the deal today. He glanced down at you and then the blanket as he shook his head.

The door opening to Yeonjun having good news about the generation, “We still have to hot wire a few things but it should be up and running…” He paused as his eyes landed on Jungkook.

“Not a word,” Jungkook’s expression looked deathly, “A single fuckin’ word Yeonjun. Forget about the generator.”

“What?” Yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up, “But don’t you want hot water?”

“Did you not just fuckin’ hear me?” Jungkook’s brows pinched together, “Leave the lights off, fix it in the morning, go do whatever you want I don’t care. Just put another piece on the fire before you go.”

Yeonjun huffed, glancing between his boss because his eyes dropped on you, leaning against himself, asleep once more. Yeonjun shook his head before he threw up his hands, going to the fireplace as he tossed a few more thicker pieces on as he glanced over his shoulder.

Jungkook’s eyes had closed, his head laying on top of yours and as you both shared a blanket. Yeonjun let a brief smile tug on his face, if he didn’t know any better he’d assume his boss was wanting to milk this moment with you, but then again, what did he know, right?

Taglist as per requested:

@btseverafter7 @scuzmunkie @zae007live @cynicalbitch666 @somehowukook @bartisedrew @princess-sunshyn @jung-shook-iieee @chickpea-jimin @hoseokteardroprop @guk97butterfly

[oftenwantedafton]

Night Shift

Steve Raglan/William Afton and Mike Schmidt x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - dub/non con sexual content

Summary: Your new boyfriend Mike Schmidt invites you to spend the evening with him at his new security job. He promises you nothing exciting ever happens and you’ll be all alone together.

He’s very wrong.

Also available on AO3

The idea of visiting your new boyfriend Mike Schmidt at his workplace sounds very appealing, at first.

He works third shift as a security guard in a long closed children’s party themed restaurant. You’ll have total privacy and plenty of time; he’s assured you nothing ever happens.

Now that you’re standing in front of the abandoned building, though, things feel very different.

The filaments in one of the lightbulbs in the marquis sign above the entrance struggle and the light extinguishes with a loud pop, causing you to jump. Mike glances back at you as he finishes unlocking the gate, smiling reassuringly when he walks back to you, wrapping his arms around your torso.

“Hey, it’s ok. I promise. Nothing exciting ever happens here. The place is just really old and run down.”

You nod, allowing him to guide you inside through the entryway and into the dining room.

“Hey guys,” he greets the animatronics onstage casually. You glance at the trio of figures, feeling another chill go through you. You’ve never liked the appearance of the animal mascots, finding the rows of teeth bared in a smile more threatening than friendly.

“The security office is back this way.” He takes your hand and you’re glad to follow, gratefully escaping the unnerving feeling the stares from the cold eyes give you.

“So this is where I spend my night.” He gestures for you to enter a room with a desk topped with monitors. It’s a cramped space, you note, with a narrow locker and filing cabinet completing the room’s decor.

“I don’t think I’d like being cooped up like this. How do you stand it?”

Mike sighs. “It’s a job. And I’ve kind of burned my bridges with the last one, so…”

“That wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to help that boy.” You lay a hand on his sleeve, looking at him sympathetically.

“I fucked up, plain and simple. At least it wasn’t all bad though. We wouldn’t have met otherwise,” he muses, resting a hand on one hip and stealing a kiss. It was true; you just happened to be shopping at the mall that day and were standing nearby when you witnessed the incident. “Besides, I need this job if I’m going to keep taking care of Abby. My aunt is really pushing this custody battle thing.”

“She doesn’t even want her. She’s just doing it to be a jerk.” You scowl. You’ve only met her once, briefly, while you were at Mike’s house. The woman was insufferable. Everything about her, from her pinched face to her snide comments to her horrible clothing made you instantly dislike her. You’ve already seen the bond between Mike and his sister, recognizing how close the two siblings were. He was doing such a good job raising her. His aunt had no right to try to interfere.

“You’re cute when you pout. Stop thinking about her. She’s not worth it. We’ve got better things to do.” He kisses you again, longer this time. His hands slide beneath your sweater, still cool from the early spring evening, and you shiver at the touch. He makes short work of the hooks of your bra, easing back to cup your breasts, thumbs dragging across nipples already erect from the cold climate outdoors.

You moan against his mouth and caress the soft waves of dark hair curling against the nape of his neck, encouraging him to continue. You’ve made out with him a few times already but you haven’t gone all the way yet. You wonder if tonight will be the night it finally happens.

Your eyes slide closed and Mike’s too busy working on the zipper of your jeans to notice the activity on one of the monitors that’s focused on the main entrance. A tall figure enters through the front door and vanishes from view, reappearing in one of the shots focused on the cash register and prize counter, then disappears yet again.

Mike’s just begun to peel the clinging denim down over the curves of your buttocks, mouth working on your throat when you hear the door open behind you.

“Holy shit—” Mike curses.

You gasp, turning to find a middle aged man standing in the opening of the doorway. His pale eyes are framed by gold aviators and his dark hair is touched with gray at the temples, a similar brush stroke running through his neatly trimmed beard.

“What’s going on here?” He looks more bemused than upset, his eyes openly roving over your half dressed form.

“Mr. Raglan. Um, listen, I can explain…”

“Really? I’d love to hear your excuse for this. Your explanations are always so…entertaining.” He smirks, arms folding over his dress shirt, rumpling the tie draped over his chest.

“We were just…” His voice trails off. There’s no way to describe any plausible reason for what the intruder has just witnessed. “I really need this job,” he says, his voice choked. “You’re not going to tell the owner, are you?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“On how cooperative your girlfriend here is willing to be.” His arms drop and he takes a step forward. You can’t get over how much taller he is than the both of you. “I could be persuaded to keep silent.” He reaches for your face and you gasp, recoiling when his fingers graze your cheek.

“What the fuck man?” Mike slaps the other man’s hand away.

Steve shrugs. “It’s no skin off my nose. I’ll just be making a quick call to the owner, who I’m sure will be delighted to be woken up at this hour to find out he’s paying a security guard to fondle his girlfriend instead of watching the cameras.” He steps towards the desk but Mike stops him.

“Wait. Just…let’s talk about this for a minute.” The younger man pleads.

“I don’t see what else there is to discuss. Do you want to keep your job or not? You won’t get another opportunity from the agency, I can assure you. This was your last chance and it seems you’ve blown it.”

“What is it you want?” It’s your first time speaking and the career counselor’s eyes snap to your face.

“You seem to be having such a good time. I’d like to join in. Do you think Mike here would be willing to share?”

“Absolutely fucking not. You’re not laying a hand on her,” Mike growls, one hand tightening into a fist.

Steve chuckles softly. “That’s right, you’re fond of violence. Well, you’re welcome to try. We can add that to the list of charges against you. You’ll be facing jail time for certain.” He lifts the receiver off the hook and you reach out, your hands closing over his wrist.

“Wait. I’ll…I’ll do it,” you murmur reluctantly, feeling nausea twist your stomach.

The security guard stares at you in disbelief. “What? No. You’re not doing this. This wasn’t your fault. It was my idea. I’ll figure something else out. We’re leaving.”

“We have to. We don’t have a choice. We have to do it for Abby.” You release your grip on the older man who stares at you, cheeks dimpling as his grin widens.

“I like your girlfriend already, Mike. She’s caring, generous…and has a very fuckable body,” he concludes with a leer.

“You bastard.”

“I thought I was being kind by inviting you to be included in our activities. I can always just enjoy her alone.”

“Don’t leave me,” you plead, pressing your back against Mike.

“I won’t. I’m sorry,” he whispers against your ear. “I’ll try to get us out of this somehow…”

“Enough chatter. Let’s get down to business.” Steve steps closer, tipping your chin up so he can view your features. The light from the desk lamp glares across the lenses of his glasses, obscuring his eyes from your vision. He smooths a thumb over your bottom lip then bends to kiss you, his tongue intruding roughly into your mouth.

You struggle not to gag, trying not to think about what’s happening and who’s doing this to you, leaning your weight back against your boyfriend for some measure of comfort and reassurance. The older man’s beard is rough against your skin. You can smell cologne on him, something Mike has never worn, the clustered fragrances of bergamot and orange peel heavy in your nostrils.

The fact that your body is responding to the kiss makes it all much, much worse.

Steve clearly has had years of practice, and the experience shows. He lavs at your neck, catches your bottom lip with his teeth, sucks along your tongue and lets a thick trail of saliva descend from his mouth into yours. You feel a warmth blooming inside of you, your sex tingling and throbbing and you hate yourself for becoming aroused just from a kiss by this stranger.

Mike seems too shocked to do more than watch, cradling you against him, allowing the career counselor to take his time tasting his girlfriend’s cherry chapstick lined mouth before his hands begin exploring, snaking underneath your sweater to knead your breasts and roll and pinch your nipples. You can’t stifle a small moan, hear Mike’s breathing by your ear ratchet up. Initially you think it had been rapid from discovery and anger; now you wonder if it is from something else entirely.

“God you’re sweet,” Steve growls, shoving a hand into the waistband of your panties. His probing fingers stroke past your clit and dip between the folds, finding your body’s betrayal of slick arousal. He’s skilled at touching as well, adeptly alternating between stroking your bundle of nerve endings and fingering your entrance, dipping a little further inside each time, teasing you, eliciting another moan and a series of squelching sounds as his prodding disrupts more lubricating fluid from your body.

You can feel Mike’s erection pressing against you now; there’s no longer any doubt that he’s turned on by what’s happening, in spite of the circumstances.

You lean your head back, turning your face slightly. “Don’t think about him, think about me,” he whispers, his lips finding yours. He kisses you gently, wrapping his arms around your chest, trying to distract you from the other man’s presence.

The career counselor isn’t one to be ignored, however. He’s dropped to his knees, tugging down your panties and removing your sneakers before peeling off your jeans. “Why don’t you give me a hand here, Mike?” He tucks one of his own under your left knee, indicating he wants your boyfriend to hold it up so he has better access to your dripping pussy.

Your mouth goes slack and you moan when you feel the man’s tongue press against your clit, threading fingers through his salt and pepper hair as he buries his nose against your mound, his tongue thrusting between your lips and teasing your opening.

“Fuck…nnngh” You can’t help it. His mouth is too skilled, too fervent against your cunt. Mike’s breath is a harsh, unsteady rasp beside your cheek, his cock now being ground slightly against your ass cheeks.

“Fucking delicious.” Steve slurps your lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and the leg you’re standing on trembles violently. He redoubles his efforts and you know you’re going to cum, there’s no way to avoid it, it just feels too good having the older man eating you out so rapturously.

“Come on honey. Cum for me,” he urges, slipping a finger inside and curling it forward and that does it, you explode against his mouth and hand, the noise tearing from your throat one you don’t even recognize.

Mike relaxes his grip on your leg and you lower it shakily as the older man rises, gasping when Steve’s mouth covers yours again, offering you a taste of yourself. Your juices are all over his lips and beard and you find yourself lapping at them, all reason lost in the moment of the afterwaves of ultimate pleasure.

“I think Mike needs some assistance,” he suggests, stepping back and sliding the office chair beside you. “Maybe this will help. Sit down,” he instructs and you obey. He bends and grabs you by your ankles and tugs sharply, pulling you sideways so that your back is resting on the seat, your lower body splayed against his chest. There’s strength in that lean form; you think he could crush you with his bare hands. In this position, Mike’s crotch is now within easy reach of your mouth.

The dark haired young man hesitates, still hating what’s happening, glaring at the career counselor but unable to deny he wants relief as well. He combs his fingers through your hair, trying to bring some tenderness and intimacy back to the moments that have been stolen and invaded. He unzips his pants, withdrawing his erection, stroking it a few times before he presses it to your lips.

Your mouth engulfs the head of his cock, tasting precum as your tongue swipes across the opening.

“She can take more than that.” Steve watched raptly as you gag at the sudden intrusion when Mike follows the suggestion, perhaps hoping this will all end faster if you both just cooperate, or perhaps it’s his own desire; it’s hard to separate the two thoughts anymore, the line between what you’re being forced to endure and what you want to happen blurring.

The chair creaks as your head bobs, sliding over Mike’s cock. He groans at the sensation, the fingers once caressing your hair now knotting in it.

“Those lips were made for cocksucking. Fuck her mouth,” the older man encourages, his hands sliding over your legs and slipping between them stopping just shy of your center, teasing you. You can still feel your arousal leaking out of you as Mike thrusts harder into your mouth, straining your throat as he batters the muscle and bruises the cartilage.

“Better,” Steve says, abandoning his caresses to unzip his pants, stroking as he watches you perform for him. “But now I feel left out. Let’s get you over the desk, sweetheart.” Mike withdraws and the other man pulls you upright as easily as if you’re a rag doll, tugging you to your feet and then pushing you over the corner of the desk, so Mike can still reach your mouth and Steve now has access to your pussy. The thin padding of your sweater provides little cushioning for your breasts smashed against the steel surface. The older man slaps one ass cheek lightly, just enough to bring a little blossom of pink color, and then you feel a slight pressure as he lines himself up with your entrance.

You moan around Mike’s member in surprise, realizing the career counselor’s prick is larger than what you’re accustomed to. He stretches your canal and your abdominal muscles tense, your vaginal walls clenching on the intruding organ.

“Christ, Mike, she’s tight,” he exhales, pushing until he reaches the hilt, completely sheathed within you. “Relax, honey.” He rubs a circle against your lower spine, calloused fingers dragging across soft skin. He pulls back and slides in once more, still surprisingly gentle, letting your body learn to accommodate him.

It’s distracting, difficult to focus between the sensations of your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth and the career counselor’s cock nestled in your pussy. You’re still revolted but the feeling is stifled beneath your arousal. You’ve never been so turned on in your life, would never have dreamt of being shared by two men at the same time. The fact that one of them is a stranger only heightens the experience.

“Good girl,” Steve praises as you begin to relax, moving with the rhythm of his lenient thrusts. He accelerates the pace, bucking into you harder, and you welcome the intrusion, your pelvis grinding back against him. You feel another orgasm building again.

Mike’s own climax is approaching, his breathing unsteady, his thrusts between the tight ring of your lips sloppier, more urgent. You suck harder, moaning around his length, accompanying the slapping sound of Steve’s body colliding with yours. Both men are cursing, battering at your openings from opposite ends. Your entire body feels like it is on fire, aching and hot, you need to cum, you need to make them cum…

Mike lets go first, spilling his seed onto your tongue, the warm, sour liquid pooling in your mouth. Steve follows soon after, his fingers bruising your hips as he explodes, dragging you right along with him. You moan and shake as you feel his cum spilling deep inside of you, filling you up.

There’s a pause while all three of you recover, breathing slowing, pulses descending, the tingling feeling in your limbs ebbing. You’re becoming acutely aware of how uncomfortable your position is and struggle to stand, finding your legs shaky, surprised when it’s Steve this time that supports you from behind, his lips nuzzling your throat when he smiles.

Mike curses, fumbling with the opening of his pants. He glares daggers at the career counselor, bending to gather your discarded clothing and pressing it into your arms.

“Are you ok?” He asks, attempting to tuck back a stray strand of hair from your face. “That’s enough. Get your hands off of her.”

“If that’s what the lady wants, sure.” Steve says placidly, unperturbed. “Is that what you want?” He asks against your ear.

“Yes,” you murmur, not sure if that’s what you really want at all.

“Alright.” He shifts, his warmth and touch abandoning your body.

“This is it, then. We did what you wanted. I get to keep my job and you keep your mouth closed. Agreed?”

“Of course. I’m a man of my word.” Steve grins again, straightening his clothing, glancing at you and sighing wistfully. “Although I wouldn’t mind another round sometime. Just to, you know…ensure my silence, as it were.” His pale eyes meet yours and you shudder, looking away hurriedly.

“As if that’s going to fucking happen.” Mike shakes his head. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“No need. I know the way. You can watch the cameras if you don’t trust I’m actually departing. You know, like you were supposed to be doing anyway.” His eyes meet yours a final time. “It was a real pleasure to meet you. If you change your mind about the offer, Mike knows where to find me,” the older man says over his shoulder as he walks away.

[lacontroller1991]

Come Back To You (Danny Walker x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Link to AO3

Summary: Danny lives, but now he has to make some choices.

Warnings: 18+ Near Character Death, Language, Period Accurate Diction, Semi-Graphic description of injuries, Evelyn isn't pregnant but still has her heart set on Rafe and Danny and Danny has his heart set on her and reader

Author's Note: I had to guys, I just had to and I'm honestly thinking about doing a whole ass multi chapter story revolving around the movie. It's an itch in my brain and it's not getting out. Again... Darn you Josh Hartnett

Word Count: 1.9k

----------

The sun is bright in the blue sky by the time the plane lands on the asphalt and comes to a stop. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as your heart pounds. It’s been months since you’ve seen Danny and you feel like you haven’t been able to breathe normally since. Evelyn moves from beside you, nails shortened by her nervous biting. What’s going to happen now that Rafe and Danny are back? If they are back? Did Danny change his mind after he’s been away and wants Evelyn or is he still keeping his word and coming back to you? 

“I feel like I’m going to faint,” her words are hushed as she tries to poke her head through the crowd of people and you try not to make a snarky comment. You and her were best friends, practically sisters, but she had broken your trust in a way you never thought she would. Since then, your relationship with the nurse has never been the same. 

“Don’t be dramatic.” Despite your harsh words and harsh exterior, inside you are panicking. What if he died? Then what? What if he chooses her? 

“I love him, you know? I love both of them so much.” If there was one thing you loved about Evelyn it’s that she’s a romantic like you, but not as much when she’s talking about the person who you’ve dreamt about for months on end. 

“I love him too. More than you can know.” You grab her hand and lead her through the group of people toward the front as the door to the plane drops open. Doolittle comes out first and you watch as his wife rushes towards him, gripping onto him as others slowly start to trickle out. Most you’ve met before, Gooz, Red, Earl, Rafe. Rafe. At the sight of him, Evelyn bolts forward, running straight into his arms and your heart beats a little faster. Maybe it’s the sun beating down on you or maybe it’s the fact that you have yet to see his face, but you feel sick to your stomach. 

Slowly walking towards the plane, you wait in high hopes as the remaining men come out, but still no Danny. Your heart sinks. Oh Danny, you stupid boy. Tears begin to swell in your eyes as your brain jumps to the worst possible situation. Evelyn takes note too, her hand reaching up to her mouth to hold back sobs, gaining Rafe’s attention. Noticing that Danny is nowhere to be seen, Rafe gently removes Evelyn from his arms and makes his way back to the plane. “Danny get your ass out here.”

“Boy s-s-sure knows how to make an entrance,” Red mutters, walking towards the group of people with a solemn look on his face, wishing Betty was amongst the crowd. 

A boot steps onto the stairs from the shadow and into the light, causing your heart to drop for the second time. “Danny,” you whisper softly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you rush past the group and up the stairs of the plane, grabbing onto him and pushing him back into the shadow causing him to let out a groan of pain. “I thought I lost you.”

Danny lets out a choked sob as he wraps one arm around you and buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. God he’s missed you. You’re the only thing he could think about for those months. The way your skin lights up in the sun. The way your eyes twinkle from the lights. The way the wind moves your hair. Everything about you is what kept him going, even when he crashed. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he chuckles as you pull away, looking over him as realization crashes over you. 

“Oh my God, what happened? We need to get you to a hospital,” you wince as you look over the extent of his injuries. His arm is in a sling, his leg has a long metal brace on it, and he has a big bandage over his neck.

“Wasn’t one of my better landings. The Chinese took good care of me and got me to this point,” he takes a step forward, pulling you back into him as he bumps his nose against yours. “They got me back to you.” He places a feather soft kiss to your lips before pulling back. “You’re as beautiful as the day I left you.” 

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you comment, taking his good side and hoisting his arm over your shoulders, helping him down the stairs as people cheer.

“I don’t plan on it.”

“Danny!” Evelyn rushes to his other side, being careful to avoid hurting him further and a lump forms in your throat. The moment you and him just shared was intimate, loving. There should be no confusion about who he chose, but still, there’s always that probability. 

“Evelyn. It’s good to see you,” he wears a smile on his face but he knows that the only woman he’ll ever love is the one on his good side.

“Yeah,” she pushes a piece of hair behind her ear, “you too.”

“Alright, let’s get Danny some proper treatment. Those Chinese nurses did a temp job, but he needs some actual medical care.” Rafe steps in, aware of your thankful gaze before the four of you walk off and get some medical help.

-----------

The hospital room is warm with a slight breeze coming in from the window as Danny lays on the bed, arm and leg in a proper cast. The tension in the room is visibly thick with you and Evelyn sitting on either side of Rafe, no one dares talking as the doctor and nurses work to make Danny comfortable. 

Turning to the three of you, the doctor gestures for all to step out of the room before eyeing you and Evelyn in confusion. “Which one of you is the wife?” 

“Neither of them are, sir. Whatever you need to say, you can say to all three of us,” Rafe comments as the doctor shrugs his shoulders in response.

“Captain Walker’s injuries were very severe. The doctors overseas did a good job of stitching his neck, but with the extent of his injuries to his arm and leg, he will have to be under watch for several months with several more months of physical training. We speculate that he will never be medically cleared to fly again.” Rafe’s head hangs in pity for Danny, but you see the look of relief that comes across Evelyn’s features and you feel the same way. “It was an act of God that he survived how he did. He should feel very blessed, but the pain is going to be tough. We will monitor it and give pain medicine as needed, but there is only so much we can do.”

“We understand,” you chime in, fingers picking at your cuticles. “Thank you Doctor.” He nods before walking away, leaving the three of you in the hall. “Now what?”

“We gotta be there for him. He’s not going to take this news well.” Evelyn nods along with Rafe’s words as a nurse steps out of the room and faces them.

“Is one of you Evelyn?” Evelyn’s eyes widen as she nods her head, stepping forward.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“He’s asked to speak with you.” The nurse holds open the door for Evelyn to go inside and sit down at his side, taking his hand. You can’t deny the feeling of hurt that encompasses you and Rafe notices. Taking your hand in his, he gives you a series of light squeezes 

“He loves you. Don’t worry.”

“How do you know he won’t choose her?” The question is genuine and Rafe looks to you with exasperation. 

“All he talked about was coming back home to you. Even in the thick of it, when we were surrounded by Japs, he kept praying to whoever to let him come home to you. I don’t think he once mentioned her.” Rafe gestures to where Danny lays and Evelyn sits, crying into her hands. “Believe me, he fucked up big time kissing my girl when he was going steady with you, but you’re the one he wants. The one he’s always wanted.” You let out a sigh of relief, giving his hand a reaffirming squeeze before letting go and letting your heart slowly mend. It’s true that Danny did kiss Evelyn while the two of you were seeing each other, but he had assured you that it was a one time deal and it would never happen again as long as he lives. She, on the other hand, made him her everything. 

Evelyn storms out of the room and faces you, tears rolling down her face. “If you ever hurt him…” It’s an empty threat and you know it. Evelyn couldn’t harm a fly, much less one of her former closest friends. Seeking solace in Rafe, she buries her head into his chest as he wraps his arms around her, still not sure what to make of the entire situation. Taking that as a cue, you walk into the room, closing the door behind you and making your way to his bedside. 

“Hey there,” his voice is raspy and you instinctively reach for the cup of water, bringing the straw to his lips for him to drink.

“Hey to you too. The doctor said you’ll be here for some months. Said your injuries were more severe than you let on.” He nods his head, pushing away the water and laying his brown eyes on yours. 

“Did they say if I can fly again?” Hanging your head, you reach for his hand and grasp it into yours. 

“I’m sorry honey, but probably not. The army won’t clear you after something like this. They said it’s a miracle you’re even alive.” Danny smirks and internally feels relief. Yes, he wants to continue and work for the war effort, but he also just wants to leave the world behind and move to a small house with you to live out a domesticated life. 

“You’re the only thing that kept me going. When I was out there,” he pauses, looking away and trying to bat the tears away. He does not want to look weak, not when he’s already looking weak as is. “When I was out there, I thought I was going to die. I was bleeding profusely, losing consciousness by the second and the only thing I could think of was you. You’re my world, (Y/N), and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you the way I thought Rafe left me. And I’m sorry that I kissed Evelyn. We were both mourning and needing comfort and she was the only one that could understand, not that it doesn’t excuse it. But I love you and I will make it up to you for the rest of my life if I have to.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest and butterflies erupt in your stomach. He chose me. It’s me who he wants. “Danny, what are you trying to say?” 

Mustering the strength, Danny brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your soft knuckles. “What I'm trying to say is, will you marry me?” 

“Oh Danny!” You surge forward, pressing your lips against his as tears roll down your cheeks. Breaking away from the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, his breath and your breath mingling together. “Yes, a thousand times, yes!” 

“Yes?”

“Yes!” Your lips connect with his again and for the first time in a while, you feel that everything is just right. 

people who had an interest: @phoenixhalliwell @waywardtigersandwich

[auroragreenvale]

People Watching - JJ Maybank

They met in class for metaphysical philosophy, he tells his friends I like her ‘cause she’s so much smarter than me

OR How you and JJ met

Summary: A look into different points of JJ and reader's relationship inspired by People Watching by Conan Gray. 3k words

***

A/N: I loveee this song especially the opening verse and I always loved picturing the people that inspired it. The chapters wont follow the order of the lyrics. I hope y'all enjoy :)

***

“Dude look what is this shit?” He smacked the paper before holding it out to Pope. He took hold of it, looking over each class listed in his friend’s schedule for the upcoming year until he found the so-called “shit” JJ was referring to: Philosophy. Pope let out a chuckle the moment he registered the word and looked over at his friend, amused. “Pope, man this isn’t funny they must’ve messed up my schedule and shit! I can’t take this class, man!” Pope could only continue to laugh, catching Kiara’s attention. She grabbed the paper out of Pope’s hand and quickly displayed the same reaction as him. 

“Wow JJ I had no idea you were such a scholar! An intellectual if you will?”

“Shut up Kie!” JJ rolled his eyes as his friends’ laughter died down, ready to show a little sympathy. 

“Look JJ,” Pope started, “It really isn’t that big a deal. This stuff happens just go talk to the counselor and get it fixed, easy.”

“Yeah alright… gimme that,” JJ snatched back his class schedule before roughly folding it and putting it into his pocket. He’d probably remember to look at it again before the first day. Probably.

***

To JJ, school was the single biggest waste of his time. He sat through stupid classes all day, missing out on prime surfing time. And what’s worse, it’s not like he could smoke a joint in the middle of history, much less chat with any of his friends in English. He was just glad to have guaranteed easy classes that required close to nothing on his end. That and the knowledge that he didn’t have parents riding his case about his education or caring about his future allowed him to ignore the nuisance that was school once he left the building. But being put in philosophy did not work into his plan. Philosophy was for the smart people. Like Pope smart. Maybe even smarter and JJ definitely considered himself a lot less smart than Pope. JJ took the classes that were required of him and absolutely nothing else. The people who took philosophy probably finished half of their requirements in middle school and overloaded on classes with specific topics because they were actually interested in them. He shuddered at the thought of more school as he entered his next class. Seven students sat at the various desks, not even filling half of them. JJ thought maybe the rest of the class was running late but he thought it was weird that everyone there currently sat toward the front of the room. His other classes were always full and people had no issue sitting in the very back row even if the one closest to the teacher had yet to be filled. But JJ was a master at blending in of course and even though he planned to get out of this class by tomorrow, he could still have fun pretending to be one of the smart kids. He slid into the last empty seat in the second row, looking around and observing his temporary classmates. His brow furrowed in confusion when he noticed them all with faces in books or scribbling away in their notebooks. How were they doing work before the bell had even rung? He slid down slightly in his seat letting his head hang down in the direction of his empty desktop, hoping to divert attention away from himself so as not to blow his cover and ruin his little game. His hand came up to the side of his face, blocking it from the others in his row as he waited for the dreaded class to begin. 

“Hi!” The sound came from the desk next to him. He lowered his hand and looked over at the girl sitting there. “...I… haven’t seen you before, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh well… I typically take a lotta... math... classes so this is kinda… new for me,” he tested out.

“Oh me too! Maybe we’ll have some more classes together.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Mmm yeah maybe,” he smiled, amused at the possibility, “I’m JJ.”

“Nice to meet you. Glad to have you in class JJ.” Again he smiled, you reading it as politeness when he really was trying to hold back laughter. Finally the bell rang signaling the beginning of class and JJ realized no other students had entered the room. If the first bell took that long to sound, he knew it would take an eternity before the last one would sound, ending his philosophy career and his misery. 

***

“You’re kidding me what!? What do you mean there’s no other classes??” JJ yelled, ignoring that he was in the administrative office. 

“Please keep it down Mr. Maybank. What I mean is that all the other classes at that time are full so we can’t move you out of your current class.”

“Ughh! … Yall messed this up, you gotta fix it!”

“I’m sorry JJ but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Okay but you don’t understand I can’t spend the whole semester in this class its for like the genius kids! I can’t do that shit!”

“Mr. Maybank please watch your language. And as for these ‘genius kids’ I suggest you talk to one of them about tutoring you.” At that JJ threw his head back and groaned as he exited the office and made his way outside to join his friends for lunch. They immediately noticed his dramatic expression as he approached. 

“Whats up J,” Kiara asked slowly. 

“This bullshit! They said they can’t take me outta that stupid class!”

“Wait you mean philosophy? You have to stay in it all semester,” Pope asked. JJ nodded.

“And what’s worse they said I should get a fucking tutor! Like I’m gonna go outta my way and do more school when I’m not even at school,” JJ shook his head, “I think I’ll just go ahead and fail.”

“Hate to break it to you man but if you fail it they’ll probably make you retake it over the summer.”

“Pope dude are you serious?” He nodded. “Fuuuck.” Kiara patted his shoulder, looking amused.

“Well uh, guess you’re getting a tutor.”

***

JJ walked into his second day of philosophy and slumped down in the seat next to yours. Blowing out a breath, he reluctantly looked over at you, preparing to ask you the dreaded question. You gave him a small smile.

“So uh… do you like… tutor people ever? For a friend! He’s… he’s looking for a… tutor.” Your smile grew, knowing where this was going. 

“Oh yeah I do what does your, uh friend need tutoring in?”

“This class!-- Well not this… class but you know this subject.”

“Mmm okay well I’d be willing to be your friend’s study buddy, help ‘em out.”

“Okay cool cool.... Cool. That's real uh cool of you.” You giggled. 

“Cool,” you answered sarcastically. This made JJ laugh softly, dropping his charade.

“Yeah so uh… should we get crackin’ like today I-- I think that would… be good. And do we… me at… the library or…?”

“Um we could or we could just go to my place if that's better?”

“Okay yeah… yeah sure that's good I’ll uh, meet you after school?”

“Sounds good.” He mirrored the smile you gave him before you both turned to face the front of the class where the teacher stood.

***

“JJ come on, the final’s in two weeks you need to get some more work done on your paper so you can start reviewing in time.”

“But dude. This paper is so stupid I do not care about any of these old guys’ theories.”

“Okay but you know them, I know ‘cause I helped you learn them, so pick one and write something about it.” JJ groaned in his usual dramatic fashion making both of you laugh. You shoved him lightly, telling him to write which he eventually began to do. When you had finished up your own essay you turned your attention to what JJ had started writing. You read over the beginnings of his essay a couple of times.

“JJ! This is good. These ideas are really good!”

“Well don’t sound so surprised,” he joked.

“I just mean I figured you had nothing since you didn’t want to write it so bad. But this is good, keep going and we can polish it up.”

“For real?”

“Yeah I’m really proud of you.” It was a simple statement and you quickly turned your attention to work for your other classes. But JJ let his gaze linger on you for a few seconds longer, a small smile on his lips. No one had ever said they were proud of him before. At least not that he could remember and definitely not when it came to smart stuff like this. He felt his heart expand hearing those words and he wondered how it would feel to hear them again. And again. He hoped he might do something else deserving of someone’s pride again. It made him feel taken care of in the way he tries to take care of his friends and it felt good to be on the other side of that kind of affection. He turned his attention back to his work and for the first time in his education, felt some motivation.

“No listen John B she’s like, so smart it's like cool! She might even be smarter than Pope and he’s probably the smartest person I know.” In his modesty, Pope let out a loud laugh, thinking JJ must have pretty low standards for intelligence if he was on the smartest end. “Pope what the hell is funny man?” This made Kiara snicker as well. JJ’s friends were all amused at how serious he seemed to be about this, all seeing what he couldn’t.

“Uh, JJ it sounds like you might have a little crush,” John B said. 

“Shit,” JJ said, brushing off the notion. “Fuck,” he said more quietly in realization in disbelief. His friends continued their quiet giggling at his apparent predicament. 

“You gonna… you gonna ask her out or what? I mean you’ll only be in class together for another what, two weeks? And I doubt you’ll ever be in one of her classes again so,” Pope laughed. 

“Shut up man I could be, I'm doing pretty good.”

“I’m sorry could any of you imagine JJ dating this apparent genius girl,” Kiara laughed at the images it brought to her mind.

“Yeah I don’t know if she’d be down to date like a surfer dude,” John B changed his voice to mock his friend. 

“Or she’d be like studying or something and you’re all,” Kiara also took on a ridiculous voice, “‘Hey babe wanna hit,’” she mimicked blowing out smoke and took on a stoner persona that they all knew was incredibly far off from JJ. But they still found it funny.

“You guys are the fucking worst and I’m gonna ask her out and you’re all gona feel like idiots okay,” JJ said holding both of his middle fingers up for all of his still amused friends to see. 

“Just invite us to the wedding okay,” Kiara mocked, earning a shove from her friend as she fell out laughing. 

***

“Hey I wanna… say, ya know thanks for helping, uh my friend out with this class,” JJ said trying to bring you back to the beginning of the semester with this class. You closed your book figuring it was time for a break. You gave JJ a tired smile that was nonetheless bright. He almost rolled his eyes when he smiled back just as big remembering how his friends noticed his feelings before he did and hating them being right. 

“Well he was a pretty… okay study buddy,” you joked back. JJ let out a breathy laugh.

“Just okay?”

“Well you’re pretty easily distracted but you do keep it fun. So better than okay I guess. And you really impressed me this semester. You’re a lot smarter than you think.” When JJ recalls this moment he can only assume he blushed a bright pink at your genuine statement and the look in your eyes. Thinking about it, he still wants to melt in both embarrassment and somehow happiness. He quickly changed the subject.

“Gonna be weird not seein’ each other all the time huh?” He had really gotten used to seeing you everyday, enjoying the time he spent with you even if it was filled doing activities he didn’t so much enjoy. 

“Yeah.” You paused. “...No one in my classes is ever as,” you searched for the right word but couldn’t find it, “...fun as you.” 

“Well no one in my classes is ever so damn smart like you,” he replied, “But uh, I was wondering did you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like no studying or anything?”

“Yeah I would, yeah. Let’s do that,” You smiled at him and then opened your textbook again, eyes going down to the words you knew you would no longer be able to focus on. 

***

JJ stood in front of the small bathroom mirror in the Chateau fluffing and fixing his hair over and over, indecisive. He wore his least dirty pair of boots and had borrowed one of John B’s less loud button down shirts. He topped it with a jacket. He felt a little weird but he hoped you’d think he looked nice in the clothes that were slightly nicer than what he typically wore to school. He smoothed back his hair one more time and ran his hand through it once. He settled on that. At least it was clean and dry, an improvement from the usual. He drove the Twinkie to your place, a very familiar route by now. When he arrived he paused in the driver's seat. Did he text you he was here or did he go up and knock? Was that what people did to pick up a friend or just dates? You hadn’t said this was a date. And what if one of your family members answered the door? He let out a breath and opened the car door before he could stop himself. He walked up to the door and knocked. He waited almost a moment too long, beginning to contemplate going back to the car and texting you when you opened the door grinning. You were actually really excited to hang out with JJ and get to know him more without homework and studying. You had enjoyed his company over the semester. JJ smiled and felt relief when you appeared and then suddenly felt self conscious. You looked exactly like yourself and he was wearing someone else's clothes. So fucking stupid. He tried to push it out of his mind as you greeted each other and he walked you to the Twinkie. As you both almost arrived at the driver's side of the car, he had the idea to open your door for you. He stopped awkwardly and abruptly, confusing you, as he changed direction to go around the front of the van. He opened the door for you and you got in thanking him. You showed little confusion, just a small smile, as you were used to his odd actions at this point. JJ got in the car, turned up the music and began driving. He felt nervous as shit. He spent the entire semester with you and now you were causing him to act like an idiot. And this wasn’t even a date! What was wrong with him? He clutched the top of the steering wheel and glanced over at you quickly before he started speaking.

“So uh I was thinking we could maybe get some food over at The Wreck? That… that cool?”

“Yeah that sounds good,” you responded. JJ didn’t really love the idea of going to the place Kie’s parents owned and she worked there. He’d be surprised if he didn’t see his dumbass best friends there trying to spy on his date. If they all weren’t, Kie would definitely be working there, and have prime position to embarrass him. But she did offer to cover half the bill and it was a hot spot. JJ figured it would look good and maybe earn him another date. Or a first real one actually. God he just hoped he wouldn't blow it. Another date with you, even if only one more sounded like a great deal to JJ, and he needed to do everything possible to make it happen.

***

You sat in the passenger seat of the van that JJ had informed you was called the Twinkie. The conversation lulled as he drove the car up to your house and in that moment of silence, realization dawned on you. Your brows scrunched as you tried to make sense of the thought that had appeared in your mind. JJput the car in park and you turned to him before he could say anything. You took a breath. 

“JJ? Was this a date?” You asked it with hesitation but more confidence than you expected to come through your words. JJ turned to you, caught off guard, but quickly painted on his signature playful smirk.

“Did you want it to be,” he asks. You almost rolled your eyes. 

“JJ,” you repeated more sternly this time. You really wanted to know his answer. “Was this a date?” His face softened and his expression changed from the confident boy most knew well to almost bashful. You decided you liked that look on him.

“I was kinda hoping it could be.” He looked up at you at the end of his statement and mustering all of his confidence leaned in. It happened quickly. He touched his lips briefly to yours in a soft kiss. It was so delicate that it stole your breath, making you dizzy. He pulled away before you could even process that moment. He looked at you, eyes closed and bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile. You took a deep breath in. 

“Definitely a date then.” You opened your eyes slowly.

“That cool with you,” JJ asked, growing nervous. You nodded flashing that smile that JJ already found intoxicating. 

“I’m hoping you can… take me on another one?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Okay,” you said. You leaned over quickly, mirroring his actions, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Just as quickly, you exited the car with one more look back at the boy. With your back to him as you unlocked your door, he let out a cheer before speeding off. You smiled to yourself as you entered your house and JJ grinned his whole way home.

[paperultra]

THE FIVE NONSENSES

[ SOULMATE!AU ] Pairing: Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader x Miya Atsumu Summary: Like most people, you do not meet the Miya twins so much as they are thrust upon you. Unlike most people, you are thrust upon them as well. read on ao3 | read on quotev

CHAPTER THREE: SMELL Word Count: 8,205 words Warnings: Swearing

“Hey, you! Join the photography club!”

You narrowly dodge the flyer thrust in front of your face, knocking back into someone in the process. Flustered, you move in the opposite direction, only to knock shoulders with another student walking the other way. Both of your apologies get lost in the noise.

“Join the basketball team! Winter Cup finalists two years in a row!”

“Improve your focus in calligraphy club!”

“Join kyudo club!”

“Join marching band!”

With a small huff, you grab the strap of Osamu’s schoolbag and squeeze through the crowd. Osamu looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his raised eyebrow with a grimace; not long after, a hand presses between your shoulder blades to usher you forward.

“Dammit,” Atsumu grumbles, digging his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s the volleyball club?”

“Hell if I know,” Osamu says. “Call Aran.”

“’S what I’m doin’, dumbass.” Punching a few buttons, the other boy presses his phone against his ear with visible impatience. “Aran!” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as Atsumu’s voice carries high over the clamor surrounding you, causing several students to swivel their heads. “Where the hell’s the volleyball club? … Class 1-7? Seriously?”

Hanging up without so much as a thank-you, Atsumu quickens his stride down the congested hallway. Osamu follows suit, and you end up seizing the back of his blazer as the three of you head to Class 1-7, evading arms and signs and flyers the entire way.

Having visited the school before to watch Ojiro play, you had known that Inarizaki High School is big; navigating it as a student on the first day of school, however, is a whole different animal. You hadn’t realized it was this big. Or this crowded. After a year of being large fish in a small pond, you now find yourselves in an ocean.

At least you have the twins to rough it with.

(It should be noted that your thankfulness varies wildly from hour to hour.)

Near the entrance to Class 1-7, you spot Ojiro wielding a bright sign advertising the volleyball club. He easily stands head and shoulders above most of the other students, and the sight of a familiar face helps you relax – even though you’d just seen him at graduation a few weeks ago, he somehow looks older here, comfortable and self-assured in the raucous halls of Inarizaki.

“Yo! Aran!” Osamu and Atsumu call out, running up to the second-year. You, still holding onto Osamu’s blazer, are unceremoniously yanked along.

Ojiro perks up and grins widely when you all reach him, freeing one hand to bump fists with the twins. “’Bout time you guys showed up. Thought ya chickened out or somethin’,” he exclaims, then nods at you with a grin. “Good to see you here too, [L/n]-chan.”

You smile back. “Hi, Ojiro-senpai.”

(Of all the people the twins consider friends, which have always been rather scant in number, you like Ojiro Aran the best.)

“Chickened out?” Atsumu scoffs. “No way. You scrubs are gonna need us if ya wanna win nationals this year.”

A laugh bursts out of Ojiro’s chest. “Don’t ya think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yerself?”

“Yeah, well, what’s new?” Osamu pipes up. He elbows his brother’s side, jabbing a thumb at the doorway when the latter chokes up and glares. “Hurry yer ass up, ‘Tsumu, we haven’t even signed up yet.”

You cough. Ojiro laughs again, leading the three of you into the classroom.

There’s a ton of students already inside when you enter. In one corner of the room is the girls’ volleyball club, and in the other is the boys’, though many are mingling and wandering around to chat. A few are upperclassmen wearing the Inarizaki volleyball team’s jacket – the rest, you assume, are first-years hoping for a chance to join.

It’s not surprising for a school that’s gone to the Spring Tournament almost thirty times. Most of these applicants will be benched for their entire high school career.

Following Ojiro to the desk for the boys’ volleyball club, you encounter the two people sitting behind it.

“Arata-senpai, Kobayashi-senpai,” Ojiro announces, clapping one hand on Osamu’s shoulder and the other on Atsumu’s, “got a package deal for ya.”

The first thing you notice about Arata is how tall he is when he’s sitting down. Then he slowly stands up, and your eyes widen as he keeps going and going, finally stopping about half a head taller than Ojiro.

Arata breathes in, vulpine eyes narrowing, before he slams his hands down on the desk with a loud thwap.

“If it ain’t the Miya twins!” he chirps, voice much peppier than expected, and you choke back a surprised laugh. “I watched yer match last year at nationals. You two think ya have what it takes to be part of a powerhouse?”

“Why talk big when we can just show ya, senpai?” Atsumu says, as if he hadn’t been gassing himself up to Ojiro moments before. He pulls out his signup sheet, already filled out in his usual large, messy print, and slides it over to the captain, leaning over the desk with one hand on his hip. “Got yers, ’Samu?”

“Yup.” Osamu slides his over as well, handwriting slightly neater.

Arata takes the sheets happily. Your gaze falls upon his hands by chance, and then it remains there, taking stock of the scribbles of purple and red decorating his skin.

Ojiro whistles. “Looks like yer soulmate’s havin’ fun with some gel pens,” he comments, pointing at Arata’s hands.

“Hm?” The other boy blinks and takes a moment to inspect the words curving below his knuckles. His brow furrows, and he squints before finally breaking out into a goofy smile. “Ah,” he says, and his voice takes on a distinctly fonder, dreamier tone, “guess they are. They’ve been practicin’ hiragana a lot lately. See? Pretty good, eh?” Arata stretches his hands out face-down, showing them off.

(You can barely read the characters.)

“Neat,” Atsumu says, though his tone has flattened just slightly.

“Right?” Arata doesn’t seem to notice. “We’re gonna finally see each other in person next summer after I graduate. They’re graduating high school this June in Spain …”

“He’s really excited,” Ojiro mutters to the three of you, “in case ya couldn’t tell.”

The volleyball captain’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink. “What’s wrong with that, huh, Ojiro? I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with them, so it’s a good sign I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

Next to you, Osamu shifts and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. You feel his elbow brush against your arm, bare skin separated by layers of fabric.

The rest of your life.

A strange feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. It’s the same kind you get whenever your parents ask about Osamu, and whenever you see couples wearing matching outfits at the mall – a feeling a little less than longing, and a little more than guilt. Like you ought to be doing more, saying more, expressing more. Feeling more.

You wonder what it is like to be Arata, infatuated, proudly flaunting the colors on his hands.

The girl sitting at the desk finally speaks up.

“I thought we were talkin’ about volleyball, not yer love life, Arata.”

Your gaze moves away from Arata’s wrists and onto the girl.

Still sitting, she and the captain paint a picture of a mouse and an elephant, her tiny form complemented by large, expressionless eyes and a small nose. The maroon jacket hanging off her shoulders looks one size too big.

And yet, when her gaze flicks over and meets yours, you’re overtaken by a sudden chill.

Scary.

Arata jumps and glances down at her. “O-Oh, right! Sorry, Kobayashi-chan, I guess I got carried away.”

“It’s fine.” Kobayashi continues to stare at you, and you start to feel slightly uncomfortable. “’S why I’m here.”

“Yeah!” Coughing, Arata rubs the back of his neck and turns his attention back to the twins. “Gettin’ back on track … if it isn’t obvious already, Kobayashi-chan is our manager. She’s real good. Real detailed.”

“But I’m also in my third year, which means we’re currently lookin’ for a new manager for next year,” Kobayashi supplies. “So if ya happen to know any first-years who’re qualified and willing to apply for the right reasons, please let me know.”

Your brow furrows at that.

“Whaddaya mean, ‘the right reasons’?” Osamu asks.

A sheepish laugh escapes Arata’s throat. “Well … the volleyball team’s pretty popular, so we get a lot of folks wantin’ to be manager just to get closer to the team and see if one of the members is their soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s not that I wanna keep any soulmates apart, but those kinds of applicants slow down the search, and obviously, we want a manager who actually wants to manage.”

Ah. Already, some of your peers already seem like they’re on a time crunch to find their person. Soulmates are getting to be a bigger and bigger deal as you get older, and with that comes certain expectations. It’s not hard to figure out why some would hope to have someone popular and athletic.

“Sorry, don’t know anybody like that,” Atsumu replies at the same time Ojiro says your name.

You look at your senior, surprised.

He directs a finger upwards. “Ya know volleyball pretty well,” he points out. “Wanna apply? You already manage the twins, after all.”

“Oi, what’s that s’posed to mean –”

Arata seems to finally notice you, eyebrows raising. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t see ya there,” he exclaims. “What’s yer name?”

Reluctantly, you step up next to Osamu and introduce yourself.

“[L/n]-chan. So ya know the twins?”

“I’ve lived on the same street as them since elementary school.”

“Really! Ya must know them well, then.”

“More than well,” says Kobayashi.

She points down at your hand. Arata follows her finger, and you resist the urge to curl your pinkie when his mouth drops.

“Oh, damn, you’re soulmates with – er, uh –”

Osamu and Atsumu just stand there, watching the captain flounder. After a few seconds, you reach up and tug Osamu’s earlobe sharply.

“Osamu,” you say, both as an answer and as a scolding, ignoring the muttered ‘ow’ coming from your right.

Clapping his hands, Arata nods. “You’re soulmates with Osamu-kun! Wow, that’s amazing. And you’ve been together since elementary school? He’d think and play better with you just bein’ there.”

You smile, embarrassed.

“That doesn’t make her the right candidate, Arata,” says Kobayashi. “Even if she really wants to manage the team, she might still prioritize Osamu-kun over everybody else. The last thing I want is a manager who picks favorites.”

She says it so bluntly, so seriously. Your smile weakens as her words hit a sore spot you didn’t know you even had.

There must be a good way to disagree. The two truths of the matter are that being a good manager would mean risking being a bad soulmate, and that being a good manager is a risk you can afford. Osamu isn’t the type of person who needs to be worried about. He gets scraped up, but he doesn’t mind it, and he knows his limits. If a player got hurt right as Osamu called you for something, you know you’d check on the other player first. Even if the other player was Atsumu. (Maybe.)

Osamu simply does not need you to take care of him. You don’t know how to express this without seeming like you don’t care as much as you should.

Atsumu cuts in before you can organize your thoughts into words.

“She wouldn’t,” he says, “unless it’s me. But ’Samu and I are soulmates, so we’re already at our best when we’re on the court.”

The upperclassmen before you tilt their heads simultaneously.

“… Wait,” Arata says after a while, slowly. “You’re tellin’ me that Osamu-kun has two soulmates?”

Osamu glances at you, eyes half-lidded, and you can only meet his eyes for a few seconds before you have to look at the ground.

“Guess I’m favored,” Osamu replies.

“Wow.” Huffing out a laugh, Arata crosses his arms. “Two soulmates … huh. I wonder how that works …” Kobayashi grunts and he clears his throat. “S-Sorry. Anyway, [L/n]-chan, if you’re interested in the manager position, just fill this out and give it to Kobayashi-chan. We’re taking applications until July first or until we find someone, whichever comes first.”

He hands you a sheet of paper, and you take it tentatively.

“My phone number’s at the top in case you have any questions,” Kobayashi adds. Her voice lowers, but its monotony remains. “And if ya end up applying, know that I won’t show any favoritism just because of yer soulmate.”

You take in a breath through your nose, fingers curling into the application in your hands. “Yeah, of course.”

She nods once, then leans back in her seat. The set of her mouth relaxes just slightly, and she crosses her arms, morphing from a cutthroat manager to a tired senpai.

“See ya after school. Good luck,” she says. Her eyes bore into yours. “To all of ya.”

There’s a moment of silent surprise between you, Osamu, and Atsumu. Then all three of you bow as Ojiro and Arata chuckle.

“Thank you!”

—

The twins, predictably, become one of three first-year regulars on Inarizaki’s boys’ volleyball team. You place your manager application in the top drawer of your desk, which you pull out frequently over the next three weeks just to stare at the blank form, unsure about the whole thing.

Saturday afternoon rolls around, and you’ve taken the paper out of your binder and set it on top of your desk at home when your phone buzzes.

Osamu: you home

You: yeah

Osamu: ok

And that’s it. You stare at your screen for a few seconds, unblinking, before you shoot up from your seat and scramble to your dresser to get changed.

Five minutes and a bit of haphazard cleaning later, there’s a few firm knocks on the front door, followed by incessant banging. You stalk over to open the door before it’s knocked off its hinges.

“I could hear you,” you tell Atsumu, unimpressed, as the two enter and shuck off their shoes.

“I know.”

He deftly dodges the kick you aim at his ankle. This usually happens nowadays, unfortunately, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“’S just you here?” Osamu asks, shuffling into some slippers and walking further into the house. His gym bag hangs from his shoulder, big and bulky, and you look at it curiously.

“… Yeah?”

“Fer someone left home alone all the time, you’re duller than a rock,” Atsumu says. “Folks’re gone and ya don’t even throw a party? Geez.”

You narrow your eyes as he grins. “Maybe I just want peace and quiet after havin’ to sit in class with you all week, Atsumu. Anyways, why are you guys here?”

You receive no answer. After eyeing the kitchen, Osamu turns and heads down the hallway, prompting you to follow. You’re further confused when he enters the bathroom and sets his bag on the countertop.

As he unzips it, Atsumu squeezes past you and reaches into the bag, pulling out a –

A shower cap.

“… Is the shower at yer place broken or something?”

“No,” Osamu says, and he pulls something else out. “Ma’s home.”

You stare at the box in his hands. Then you look back up at the twins.

“She’s gonna kill you.”

—

Watching Osamu and Atsumu bleach each other’s hair is like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Their dark T-shirts have speckles of orange on them, there are bits of foil littering the sink and the bathroom floor, and the acrid stench of bleach filling the bathroom is starting to creep down the hallway. You can only hope it doesn’t linger past Sunday night when you go back to the dorms.

“If you screw this up, I’m shaving yer giant head in yer sleep.”

“I’m doin’ it better than you did, ya scrub!”

You stand outside, shirt collar pulled up and over your nose, as Atsumu finishes combing through the top part of Osamu’s hair. It’s an incredible thing to witness: Osamu sitting on the shower seat, hunched over and holding a sheet of foil over his undercut while Atsumu hangs over him, wearing one of the shower caps to keep his own hair out of the way. It’s also a disaster.

You lift your phone up to snap a quick picture.

“Oi! What’re ya doin’?”

“Making a present for Ojiro.” Upon viewing the photographic evidence, you realize something. “You’re not gonna tell Auntie that you dyed yer hair at my house, right?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Osamu assures, letting Atsumu hold onto the foil while he pulls on a shower cap. He sets a timer, and the two of them hurry out of the bathroom to escape the fumes. “She won’t be thinkin’ about the details when she finds out.”

“Like she’d ever blame ya, anyway.” Atsumu scoffs. “You’re the favorite and you ain’t even her kid.”

“Well, I don’t wanna take my chances.” You recall the countless number of times the twins had received a whooping for something stupid they did, and the countless number of times you had just barely managed to slip under the radar by keeping your mouth shut. “Y’know, she might make ya dye it black again if the school doesn’t like it.”

“Please. If anything, they’ll thank us fer givin’ them an easy way to tell us apart.”

“Is that why you’re dyein’ yer hair? You’re already in different classes.”

“It ain’t fer class,” Osamu says. “It’s fer volleyball.”

Atsumu presses his back against the wall and slides down to the floor, pulling up a game on his phone. “Some of the scrubs still can’t tell us apart on court,” he sniffs. “’M tired of it.”

That, you think, makes a lot more sense.

Osamu and Atsumu have always taken full advantage of being identical twins. You’ve seen them pull just about every stunt in the book – switching the way they part their hair on random days, pretending to be the other when one of them gets in trouble, making money off classmates who bet on knowing who’s who (and lying on more than one occasion). Looking alike isn’t usually a point of contention between them.

When it does bother them, volleyball is usually involved. They don’t always wear different shirts or numbered jerseys at practice, and you’ve been to enough of them to know that this can cause issues at the beginning of the year. The coach calls out the wrong name, a teammate calls for Osamu when they mean Atsumu, things like that.

They get especially miffed when one gets praised for something the other did. Atsumu, in particular, hates that the most.

“Ya have anythin’ to eat?”

Head snapping up, you look at Osamu and nod halfway through absorbing what he’s just asked. “There’s leftover onigiri in the fridge and snacks in the cupboard,” you reply, stepping over Atsumu’s outstretched legs to lead his brother towards the kitchen.

(“Heat up an onigiri fer me,” Atsumu calls out.)

(“Get it yerself, lazy-ass,” Osamu shoots back.)

In the kitchen, you fish out the last two onigiri the twins’ mom had given you yesterday and present them to Osamu.

“Here. You and Atsumu can each have one.”

“These the ones with salted salmon?”

You nod.

Osamu thinks for a moment. His lips purse, his eyelids droop, and even though he kind of looks like a lunch lady with that shower cap on, it’s cute.

“I’ll make ochazuke and yaki onigiri,” he decides. “What do ya want?”

“I’ll just have some chips or something. I just ate lunch, so I’m not that hungry.”

He stares at you, then accepts the onigiri from your hands. “Okay.”

Putting the rice balls on the counter next to the stove, Osamu retrieves a small plate, a bowl, and a mug from the cupboard. He finds most of everything else pretty quickly – the cast iron skillet under the oven, the spatula in the drawer right next to the fridge, and the soy sauce and oil in the lower corner cabinet. The only thing he asks for you to locate is the green tea, which you get from the depths of the second shelf in the pantry.

While he works, you grab a bag of your favorite chips and pop it open, leaning against the unused counter on the other side of the stove to watch.

You like it whenever Osamu cooks. The click of the stovetop turning on, the curve of oil being poured into the skillet, and you’re rocking gently in a small boat, curled up in an overstuffed chair on a rainy day.

(It’s an extension of how he feels, you’ve learned – for as much as Miya Osamu loves volleyball, he loves food just a teeny bit more.)

When the oil is hot enough, he unwraps one of the onigiri and places it in.

You turn the opening of your chip bag towards him as he wipes his hands on a towel. “Here,” you offer once he notices.

“Thanks.”

Atsumu’s onigiri sizzles in the skillet while the water for Osamu’s tea continues to heat up. Osamu mirrors your posture on his side of the stove, messily crunching down on several chips, and the two of you wait.

“Didja apply for the manager position yet?”

You swallow too early, rough shards of chips cutting down your throat. Fighting the urge to cough, you shake your head and reach for the water you’d left on the table this morning. “No. Still thinkin’ about it.” He hums. “You guys haven’t found one yet?”

“Kobayashi-senpai’s real picky.” He flips the onigiri over with one sharp push of the spatula, brushing soy sauce over the freshly grilled side. The water boiler beeps right after, and he seamlessly transitions over to pour the hot water over the teabag in his mug. “Most of the applicants we saw were annoyin’, anyway.”

“Oh.”

You recall the last practice you’d attended, watching from the balcony with your homework as the team ran laps around the court. The applicant on trial that day had watched them go by a few times, still and proper, before suddenly turning to Kobayashi and excusing themselves from the gym. They never came back.

On the walk back to the dorms that evening, Atsumu explained that the student had a counter for how many times their soulmate would pass by them.

(“Waste of time n’ space,” he’d complained. “Who’d wanna be with someone that desperate?”)

“Ya wouldn’t be half bad at it.”

“… Yeah …”

“If ya don’t wanna apply, just say so.”

“It’s not that. I just don’t know if I’ll wanna do it for the next three years.”

“Whaddaya want to do, then?”

“I dunno.” With a sigh, you set your bag of chips down. “I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to apply.”

Osamu shrugs. “If ya are,” he says, turning off the stove top, “don’t do it just ’cause of me.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, sharp and knowing as he flips the yaki onigiri onto the plate he’d pulled out earlier.

After calling Atsumu, who had migrated to the living room couch while he had been waiting, the twins scarf down their afternoon snack in no time at all and raid your cupboard for the complimentary snacks your parents usually bring back from their trips.

Halfway into his fourth wafer, Atsumu’s timer goes off.

“Oh, shit.” Shoving the rest of the wafer into his mouth and silencing the alarm, Atsumu gets up and eagerly makes a beeline to the bathroom.

“… Do ya think it worked?” you mutter as you and Osamu stand up more slowly.

“I dunno.”

A loud swear explodes from the bathroom.

You look at each other sharply. Wiping the crumbs from your lips, the two of you run over to investigate.

As you get closer, you hear the sink running, then Atsumu muttering underneath his breath.

When you peek into the bathroom, your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Osamu says, leaning past you to get a better look. “’Tsumu, ya look like a carrot.”

“Shaddup, ’Samu,” Atsumu moans, rinsing his hair angrily. “I know. Fuck.”

Hair bleach on dark hair, as you find out, works similarly to hair bleach on dark fabric. Contrary to the sandy blond the older twin had desired, the result he had gotten is instead a bright, burnt yellow-orange matching the stains on his T-shirt. Not carrot, necessarily, but definitely not blond.

“Ugh.” Nose and forehead wrinkling, Atsumu leans toward the mirror, pinching a section of hair between his fingers. “It … it ain’t that bad, right?” His pitch rises with the slightest hint of denial. “I’m pullin’ it off.”

“It’s that bad,” Osamu says.

“’Samu!”

“Maybe you can bleach it again?” you suggest.

“And then his hair falls out? Bad idea.”

“Dye it, then, like you are.”

“We don’t have money left to buy a different color.” With a sigh, Osamu puts his hands on his hips. “Damn. Sorry, ’Tsumu.”

Atsumu groans and thunks his forehead against the mirror, dripping water all the way down its surface onto the counter. His frustration is so palpable that you can feel it prickling your skin.

If he hadn’t been so excited before, you’d probably poke fun. You should poke fun, but the disappointed twist of his lips and the droopiness of his sopping wet hair just makes you feel bad. He looks like a wet puppy.

Dammit.

You take your phone out.

Osamu tracks the movement. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Lookin’ something up.” You press on the first link you see, skim the webpage quickly, and put your phone back into your pocket. “I’m headin’ out fer a bit. Stay here.”

“… ’Kay.”

“Whatever,” Atsumu grumbles.

After grabbing your wallet and checking its contents, you head outside to drag your bike out from underneath the vacant carport. And as you hop onto the seat, pedaling down towards the nearest drugstore, you tell yourself that Atsumu better thank you on his hands and knees once you get back.

—

“Blue shampoo?” Atsumu’s tone is suspicious as he slathers the back of Osamu’s hair in grey dye.

“It’s supposed to cancel out the orange.” Turning the bottle to face you, you read the description beneath the brand name. “‘Eliminates brassy, orange undertones.’ See?”

“It ain’t gonna fuck up my hair even more?”

“’Course not,” you retort, all hopes of veneration quickly fading away. “I ain’t an asshole, Atsumu.”

His eyebrow twitches, hands slowing. You take the opportunity to place the bottle sideways in the crook of his neck, forcing him to tilt his head to hold it in place.

“Oi –”

“Go try it. I’ll finish Osamu’s hair.”

“Yer so bossy,” Atsumu grumbles, but he lets you nudge him out the way, peeling his gloves off and grabbing the shampoo.

You snap some gloves on in turn, keeping one eye on Osamu’s hair and the other on Atsumu as he ducks his head beneath the sink faucet. They’d pretty much finished up applying the dye for Osamu, at least from what you can tell, so you start combing through the locks with your fingers to make sure everything is covered.

Miya hair is very thick. Soft, too. You hope all this bleaching and dyeing won’t ruin it too much.

“Hm,” Osamu hums abruptly.

You stop. “What?”

“Nothin’.” You furrow your brow but resume, only to just barely hear him mumble, “… Feels nice.”

Oh.

A smile crawls onto your lips without warning, the space behind your ribcage suddenly cozy and soft.

“Alright, I’m doin’ it,” Atsumu announces. You look up just in time to see him squeeze a dollop of shampoo into his hand. “Euch! It’s so blue!”

“Why do ya sound so surprised?!”

“Shaddup, I just wasn’t expectin’ it to be so dark! … Smells okay, though …”

While the shampoo does its work on Atsumu’s hair, you take a little extra time combing Osamu’s. He remains quiet and still, thumbs tapping idly on the dark screen on his phone. You wait for him to make more snide remarks at Atsumu’s expense or complain about the smell of the dye, but he doesn’t.

You eventually finish up while the water still runs blue and sudsy into the bowl of the sink. Osamu mutters a thank you and ambles off after eyeing his brother for a few seconds. You linger for a while longer.

(God, you hope it works. If not for Atsumu’s sake, then for your pride and your wallet.)

After what seems like forever, he rinses out the last of the shampoo, wrings his hair out a bit, and straightens up to look in the mirror.

You examine his reflection as well. It’s less orange, yes, but still not as light as he had wanted, more gold than sand. Not necessarily good, but certainly less bad.

Atsumu fixates on the more muted shade of his hair for a minute or two. His lips press downwards at the corners, and then they part to say your name.

You blink.

“What?”

“Why’d ya buy the shampoo?”

He sounds almost accusatory, but not quite; there’s an undertone that you very, very rarely hear in his voice. He meets your eyes in the mirror, hair a dripping, tangled mess.

“… ’Cause I felt bad fer ya,” you admit unwillingly. Atsumu makes a face, and you sharpen your tongue, because that is what feels comfortable with him. Normal. “And I didn’t want to hear ya mopin’ and complainin’ about it all week.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he persists. “I coulda pulled it off.”

You scoff. “Just ’cause you’re taller than most of the school doesn’t mean they wouldn’t’a noticed. And anyways, it’s better now, ain’t it?”

“I didn’t ask ya to buy it.”

“Ya didn’t even know what it was until I told you.”

“An’ if I did, I still wouldn’t’ve asked!”

“Yeah, ’cause yer prideful ass would rather die than ask fer help!” you snap, jabbing his bicep with your finger. “God! I knew ya wouldn’t even say thank you!”

“Well, if ya knew I was gonna be a dick about it, why’d ya waste yer money?!”

“I felt bad fer ya!” you screech. “My mistake!”

“Yeah, yer mistake!” Atsumu shouts back.

Chest heaving for breath, you glare at him. He glares in return. Temper pinks his face and the tips of his ears, flares his nostrils and curls his lip in that fierce and familiar way. In the back of your mind, you know you are doing the same.

Asshole.

You’re angry, yes. And offended, and exasperated, and and and –

And hurt.

“It’s so hard,” you say, your voice deciding to crack at the worst time possible, “to be nice to you sometimes, Atsumu.”

When the words leave your throat, his face grows blank in that way you’ve always hated, his mouth pressing into a fine line.

“So?” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

Casting one last glance at the bottle of shampoo next to the sink, you clench your fists and turn to leave. What a waste of money. This is the last time you’re ever going to feel bad for him.

A hand wraps around your elbow upon your first step outside the bathroom.

“… Are ya cryin’?”

“No,” you bite, wishing he hadn’t asked because now you do feel like crying, just a little bit.

Atsumu pauses for an excruciating moment. You can practically feel his distaste for whatever words he’s about to say.

“I’ll pay ya back,” he mutters. “Fer the shampoo.”

“No.”

“Whaddaya mean, no?”

“I don’t want yer money.”

“Well, what do ya want, ’cause I ain’t owin’ ya anything.”

“I want a thank you.”

“… Can’t I just –”

“No.”

Atsumu throws his hands up. “Fine!” he says. “Thanks fer buyin’ somethin’ I didn’t ask fer! There, ya happy now?”

“I want ya to mean it,” you say quietly.

“I did mean it.”

You cross your arms.

He groans. Glancing around as if checking for hidden cameras, Atsumu slowly pushes his bangs away from his face and wipes his nose, sniffing.

“… Fine,” he eventually grumbles at the floor tiles. Cheeks puffed, he looks up at you from the corner of his eye and scratches the back of his head. “The shampoo fixed it a little bit,” the words struggle their way out of his mouth, “so … thanks … fer gettin’ it fer me. Ya didn’t have to.”

He looks like he’s just eaten soap, his ears still red, and that’s how you know he’s being sincere. Your shoulders relax a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Atsumu’s expression, almost doleful for just that moment, blooms into something more sarcastic once you accept his gratitude. He gestures at the doorway behind you. “Can I go now?”

“Dry the mirror and the counter first.”

“But I said thank you.”

You throw a towel at his face and walk away, more satisfied than not.

—

“How’s Osamu-kun doing?”

You prop your phone up against the wall behind your desk, tilting your pen between your fingers. “He’s fine, Ma.”

“Did ya tell him how good his curry is? He makes it better than me.”

“Yeah, he says he’s glad you guys like it.”

After resolving the blue shampoo issue with Atsumu on Saturday, you’d gone back to the kitchen and found Osamu chopping vegetables and tofu next to the sink. At first, you figured he was hungry again, but upon your questioning, he’d only denied it.

(“’S fer you.”

“… Fer me? No, you don’t have to –”

“Yeah, I know. Ya don’t like the curry at the cafeteria, so bring mine back to the dorm and save it in the fridge fer later. If ya don’t want it, leave it fer yer folks to eat when they get back.”)

He didn’t leave much room for debate. And since he was using your family’s food to make it anyway, you accepted, a bit perplexed but happy nonetheless. You hadn’t expected him to remember your complaint about the cafeteria’s bland curry.

The amount he made was enough to fill two Tupperware containers, one of which you left for your parents when they returned two days later. Needless to say, they were delighted.

“What a thoughtful boy. He’s so good to you, honey.”

You smile, walking back to your desk. “Yeah.”

(“Ya like dark chocolate in it, right?”)

Your mom sighs. It’s a familiar sigh, and you click your pen, knowing what she is about to say before she even takes a breath.

“I just don’t know why he hasn’t asked ya out yet.”

You can hear your dad speak up between chews in the background. “It ain’t like how it was back when we were young, dear. Soulmates these days don’t like makin’ things so formal and official.”

“Oh, I know, but wouldn’t it be sweet? I was so happy when we went on our first official date.”

“The one at the konbini ’cause I couldn’t afford anythin’ nicer?”

“Yes. I loved it.”

“I know. You were smilin’ the whole time.”

“Glad you’re still in love,” you say dryly when they giggle over the phone, your nose wrinkling when your dad comes into view to give your mom a loud smooch. During these moments, you wish you’d called instead. “I’m still here.”

“Oh, I know, I know. Honey, you should bring Osamu-kun somethin’ fer his next game! A snack fer afterwards. He’ll like that.”

“Okay.” You’ve done that before. The first time you gave him an orange in your first year of junior high, he and Atsumu squabbled over dividing it for five minutes. Now you get double portions whenever you have the compulsion to bring something after games, just to keep the peace.

“Speaking of games …”

Here we go.

“… Have ya applied to be the manager for the volleyball team yet?”

“Um.” Glancing at the wall to your right, you click your pen some more, taking your time to answer. “I filled the form out …”

“[Y/n]! If ya dawdle, someone else’ll snatch it up. When’s it due?”

“July first or until they find someone.”

“Turn it in tomorrow!”

“Okay, okay.”

Your mom sighs again, and she places a bowl down onto the table. “… Otherwise, are ya okay? I’m sorry we missed ya at home.”

“It’s fine. I hung out with Kokomi and the twins. How was yer anniversary?”

“We’ll make sure we’re home next time you’re on weekend leave. And it was lovely! Oh, honey, ya should’ve seen the fish yer pa caught …”

You talk with your parents until they finish their dinner, hanging up once they’ve started cleaning up. As soon as the video cuts out, you release a breath and turn your phone face-down.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous about applying for the manager position. It’s the natural thing to do, because it’s natural to want to be involved with something Osamu is interested in, his own opinion on the matter notwithstanding. You think you might like being a manager. It’s not like you want to do something else more.

Getting rejected by Kobayashi would be horrible, though.

Maybe you’ll wait a little longer to turn your application in. Polish it up some more, and such.

—

After volleyball practice ends, and after everyone who had lingered behind to practice some more is ready to call it a night, Atsumu tells you and Osamu that he’s staying a little longer to practice his jump float serves.

“Are ya sure? Cafeteria’s servin’ all-you-can-eat pasta for dinner.”

“I’ll be done before it closes.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. To be fair, neither are you; Atsumu often loses track of time when he stays behind, resulting in an extra hungry, extra irritable Atsumu.

“Atsumu,” you say.

He huffs at you. “Seriously, I will!” he insists, before turning to walk back to the end line. You, Osamu, Ginjima, Akagi, and Ojiro all look on helplessly as he throws a volleyball into the air and gives himself a running start.

“Don’t worry,” Kobayashi says, grabbing your attention just as he jumps. She holds up the key to the gymnasium. “I’ll kick him out before he misses dinner.”

Ojiro, ever the responsible one, lets out a noise of protest. “Senpai, I can lock up. You should go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Though her tone is impassive, she makes it clear that her mind is set as she waves him off. “I’m goin’ out to eat with my boyfriend later, anyway.”

You blink.

Though Ojiro is visibly reluctant, he acquiesces. “… Okay. Thank you, Kobayashi-senpai.”

“Mmhm,” Kobayashi hums, and her gaze falls upon you. “Make sure they get to the cafeteria in one piece, [L/n]-chan.”

“I will, senpai.”

You wait outside while the guys change out of their gym clothes and gather their things. Once they exit the building, you join them, listening idly to their chatter about today’s practice as the five of you trek towards the cafeteria.

“Hey, Ojiro-senpai, Akagi-senpai,” Ginjima speaks up during a lull in the conversation. “What Kobayashi-senpai said earlier …”

Attention piqued, you look at your upperclassmen for their reactions to Ginjima’s question. Next to you, Osamu does little to hide his curiosity as well.

Ojiro and Akagi, in turn, share a glance, and Ojiro raises an eyebrow at Ginjima.

“Yeah?” Ojiro replies.

“Well, y’know …” Ginjima presses expectantly, “when she said that she has a boyfriend, did she mean …?”

“That’s somethin’ you can ask Kobayashi-senpai about, ain’t it?”

You imagine doing just that and cringe.

Ginjima’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “Well –!” he replies, a bit too loudly. “I would, but I don’t want her to think I’m bein’ judgmental or somethin’. Plus, I’m just a first-year …”

“Aw, I think it’s fine if they know, Aran. It ain’t like she’s hidin’ it or anythin’,” Akagi says. Ojiro looks up for a moment in thought, then shrugs tentatively, and Akagi smiles at you and the two boys. “Kobayashi-senpai’s not datin’ her soulmate. They’re pretty serious, too.”

Ojiro rests his hands behind his head. “He’s a nice guy. Comes to games sometimes.”

“Oh, I see …”

You nod slowly, absorbing this new piece of information. Kobayashi has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that she goes on dates with, one she really likes. You wonder how long they’ve been together.

You wonder if Kobayashi’s met her soulmate yet.

“E-Excuse me! Hello!”

The quick patter of footsteps interrupts your train of thought. Glancing behind you, you stop short when you see one of your classmates running up to your group, waving one hand and holding a camera in the other. The golden orange of the sky burnishes her red hair.

“Naruko-san,” you and Ginjima greet at the same time. Ginjima laughs.

“Sorry to bother ya!” Naruko bows and quickly straightens, holding her camera up and smiling nervously. “I-I was just takin’ some pictures for photography club, and I was wonderin’ if you guys would mind me takin’ a picture?”

“How long’s it gonna take?” Osamu asks.

“Not too long. Five minutes? U-Unless y’all are in a hurry to get somewhere …”

“Not too much of a hurry. Just wanna make it to dinner.” Ojiro smiles, patting Osamu and Akagi’s backs. “Where do ya want us?”

Naruko brightens, her cheeks going red. “J-Just keep walkin’! The lighting’s perfect right now, and I wanna take a picture of yer backs with yer volleyball jackets on.” She glances at you, and her expression grows more nervous. “Er …”

You lock eyes with her for a few seconds before catching on. Nodding, you take a step towards Naruko to join her.

Osamu’s hand grasps your shoulder.

His hold is loose, but you bite back the urge to slump over at the sudden warmth of it, pausing instead to look back at him.

“Where’re ya goin’?”

You answer tentatively. “I don’t have a team jacket.”

“That’s fine. You’re walkin’ with us too.”

“Yeah, but …” You wet your lips. “Like, visually, it’ll look weird if one person doesn’t have one on …”

The corner of Osamu’s mouth twitches, and he frowns. You watch as his gaze moves past your shoulder. A sudden, brief twinge of irritation, not belonging to you, zings through your ribcage.

“Why’s that matter?”

“Yeah. C’mon, it’ll be fine,” Ojiro says.

“It’s okay!” Naruko suddenly blurts, and you jolt slightly, looking back at her. She bounces on her feet, voice even higher pitched. “I can do a more candid shot, now that I think about it! A-Actually, Miya-san, could ya give [L/n]-san yer jacket? And Ginjima-san, you can keep yers around yer waist …”

Her sudden change in idea perplexes you a bit. But Osamu seems to be satisfied, and he shrugs his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders.

After a bit of hesitation, you slide your arms through the sleeves.

(It’s just as warm.)

“Ooh, [L/n]-chan’s wearin’ Osamu’s jacket,” Ginjima teases behind his hand, and your face heats up.

“Okay.” Behind you, Naruko lets out a wistful-sounding sigh. “I’m ready. Y’all can start walkin’ now, just like ya were before.”

With only a bit of self-consciousness, the five of you follow her instructions. There are only a few clicks of the camera before Naruko calls out her thanks and goes off without another word, leaving you and the boys to speculate whether you’ll ever see the results.

“How cute,” Akagi comments. “She looked like she was gonna throw up, though.”

“I hope those were conflicting statements.”

“Okay, Aran, I wasn’t implying …”

While the two upperclassmen start to banter, you move to take Osamu’s jacket off, only for him to stop you.

“’S fine,” he says. “You can wear it if ya want.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And so you do.

—

The boys’ first practice game in July is brutal.

Many of your peers have come to watch. It’s a favorite after-school pastime of Inarizaki’s student populace, you’ve quickly discovered, to hop from one athletic club to the other simply to spectate and speculate. People pack the balcony and peek around the doorway, catching the scent of blood and sweat.

Between the crowd’s cheering and jeering, the squeak of sneakers on the gym floor, and the sound of palms ramming into volleyballs, the atmosphere is sharp, almost electric – something that you feel tingling on your skin as you stand on the sidelines, Kobayashi right by your side.

Atsumu delivers another devastating service ace. It ricochets off the corner of the other side of the court with a thunderous boom.

“Did you catch that, [L/n]-chan?” Kobayashi asks, arms crossed. “That was one of his better ones.”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t.”

“Hm.”

You watch the slow, satisfied stretch of Atsumu’s smile, and wait patiently. “It’s okay. He ain’t done yet.”

Indeed, Atsumu is just getting started. You spare an amused glance at Osamu in front of the net, his hands locked protectively behind his head, before turning back to Atsumu as the volleyball is thrown back to him.

Raising your camera, you adjust the focus, finger ready on the shutter button.

Toss. Run. Jump.

Click.

On your other side, a girl pumps her fists and cheers.

“Wow! Another one!” she gushes.

You smile behind your lens. “Ya always sound so impressed, Tsubaki-chan.”

“I’m just excited! We’re crushin’ them in the last set!”

“’Course we are,” says Kobayashi. “Our offense is that much better. I’m a little disappointed.”

As your upperclassman patiently points out each player’s strengths and weaknesses, you keep an eye on the team and crouch low. You’ve got plenty of photos now that the game’s nearing its end – lots of sets, a few spikes and digs, some flashy jump serves. Hopefully, some of them have turned out halfway decent. Even though you’d widened the aperture to make up for the gym’s crappy lighting and adjusted the shutter speed for blurring, you still worry about your timing.

By the time Inarizaki scores the winning point, you’ve moved to the opposite end of the court and have to race back to capture their reactions.

One thing you like about the volleyball team is how expressive they are. Joy, passion, pride – off the high of a victory, they bare everything, whether it’s through their expressions or the way they move or both.

Tsubaki says your name excitedly as soon as the teams have finished thanking each other, tugging on your arm. “Can I see the action shots, [Y/n]-chan?” she requests.

“Ah, sure.”

You turn the camera towards her, and she leans in as you scroll through the photos, her grin widening.

“Wow! Yer timin’s amazin’. They look so cool!”

The praise brings summer to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you reply genuinely. After a moment of hesitation, you lift the camera again. “Smile, Manager-san?”

Tsubaki doesn’t hesitate to broaden her already present grin, throwing up a peace sign for good measure. Kobayashi looks your way as well, and you take one shot, knowing it will be kept.

“Cute!” Tsubaki exclaims.

Two shadows loom over your shoulders as the girl bestows you with another compliment. When you turn your head to the right, your nose nearly brushes Osamu’s cheek.

“Ya got any good shots of us, [Y/n]?” Atsumu asks expectantly.

“Yes, actually, I did,” you reply, going back through the camera roll with a particular image in mind. You’re only vaguely aware of the warmth they exude as they budge into your personal space, the smell of sweat lingering on their skin. “Here.”

You’re particularly proud of this one. It had been a split second of pure luck, standing on the sidelines when a window of opportunity opened for a fast-tempo set. You had felt it – you knew Atsumu would set to Osamu, and as Osamu jumped, arm reared back as Atsumu sent the ball to him, you had captured it.

Somehow, you always get the timing right with them.

“Cool,” the twins approve proudly.

“Email that one to us, will ya?” Atsumu says. “I ain’t lettin’ you photography nerds hoard it away.”

“She’s sendin’ all these to Arata-senpai, ya dolt.”

“Hey, I wanna see!” Gintama breaks into your little group, trying to sneak a peek in. “Did ya get one of my spikes?”

“Yeah, how about my jump serve?”

“That super cool block me and Ren did in the second set!”

“Didja get one of Coach?”

One by one, the team gathers around you, eager for a glimpse of their successes. The crowding is uncomfortable, but you try your best to show them what you can anyway, feeling a rare sense of pride about your own accomplishments.

You’re happy with your choice.

Tsubaki will be a great manager. Even when you first met her, you knew she had everything she'd need for the job – a passion for the sport, a desire to help others succeed, and an endless amount of perseverance. Inarizaki couldn’t ask for a better person to replace Kobayashi next year. She’ll do well in what she’s decided to do.

And so will you.

—

prev

[johnwickb1tsch]

Excessive Force : a Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE AMAAAZING @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘) - Chapter FOURTEEN ---> (all chapters)

trigger warnings: mention of police shooting, child trafficking, past childhood trauma, abuse, etc. plz take care!

“Are you serious?!” You have to move the phone away from your ear to avoid a blown drum from Sheila’s screech. 

“Yup.”

“Okay, why don’t you sound as excited as me?” 

“I’m nervous. He’s really forward. And, I haven’t been on a date in forever.” That didn’t end horribly… You’ve decided not to count the fiasco with Julian. You’re in your room, fingering through the limited collection of nice clothes in your closet. You briefly debate wearing a turtleneck and thick linen pants just to piss him off. But, also, there’s that little sundress you bought at the mall that you’ve never gotten a chance to wear… The pretty, soft color would pair very nicely with your silky cream bra and panty set—that you also have never worn. You’re starting to re-think the whole not being a prude thing. 

Plus, it’s hot outside.

Sheila pulls you from your search. “Listen, if he tries anything, just kick him in the dick. Works every time.”

“He’s like eight feet tall. I don’t know if I can reach his dick… with my feet.” 

You both giggle. 

“That’s why they make step stools.” 

“Like, for that exact reason?” 

Sheila’s one of those people that has proven to be supportive. You met her on a bus tour your first week in LA and have been buddies ever since. It works perfectly since you both have hectic work schedules and don’t really expect anything from the other one. She calls you for drinks, you call her for lunch. Sympatico. 

“Obviously. So, he’s tall. Is he hot?” 

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you think back to his bare, bruised body on your exam table, those mile long, strong thighs that caged you in and felt more like they belonged to an Amazon Boa rather than a man. 

“Okay, that silence either means hell yes or hell no, so which is it?” You hear the grin in Sheila’s voice.

“First one.” 

You end up telling her about his persistent hospital visits, him pulling you over, maybe omitting some—okay, no, a lot of the details just so she doesn’t want to kill him just yet. You also haven’t told her about the Julian debacle–or that Tom basically rescued you. 

You also leave out that he just happens to be the new superhero on every news channel right now. You’re still processing that yourself, and it’s not boding well for you keeping your cool with this man. 

As it turned out, it was the news that informed you of Officer Tom Ludlow’s whereabouts those lonely night’s you’d missed him harassing you on that lonely stretch of highway. He wasn’t ignoring you. He was rescuing two teenage girls who had been kidnapped and trafficked by a gang. According to the report, Ludlow had entered the house after hearing a cry for help, alone, and gunned down every single one of the gangbangers before setting the girls free.  

Parts of this story should have alarmed you, but there had been a time in your past when you would have given anything for a person of authority to ride to your rescue, red tape be damned. How many times had the cops come to your house for a domestic disturbance between your parents, and left you in a bad situation because of some legal technicality or another? How had they seen you, scared and dirty, cowering in the doorway, and left you behind? The horrors you could have told them, if only they’d cared to ask without your parents there to overhear and threaten you, but every time until the last time, they’d just left you in the hellhole that had been your childhood home.   

How different your life—your sister’s lives—would have been if you had a Thomas Ludlow back then.

The twin girls’ MISSING posters and billboards were all over the city. Most anyone with the power to do something had given up on them as a lost cause, just another sad story, written them off as tragically probably dead in a gutter, but not Ludlow. Ludlow had risked his neck (and possibly his badge, because you’d heard of the old “I heard a cry for help” trick to gain entry, and it was almost always code for “I didn’t have a warrant, what are you going to do about it?”, to get them out, and goddammit if that didn’t just warm you to your toes and soften your heart.

Worse yet, you feel like the biggest asshole for calling him a fraud, to his face, the night after it all went down. He’d just taken it on the chin, and he still asked you out. 

Ok, he technically extorted you, but it just doesn’t feel as sinister now as it had last night. He’d been bold, and borderline needy for some human tenderness, and fuck if you didn’t understand all too well why now. 

Now, rather than having to keep yourself from tearing him a new one, you were afraid you were going to have to restrain yourself from crawling into his lap at the first opportunity, and fucking his brains out for being such a goddamed hero. 

“Oh, he’s a freak!” Despite saying this, she sounds like she’s twirling her hair and kicking her feet. 

You snort. “He’s got..uh…nice hands.” 

You decide on the sundress and the bra-panty set, but you don’t bother laying them out in preparation, because you’re still telling yourself that this isn’t that big of a deal and you’re not that invested and that if Tom Ludlow kisses you, you won’t burst into flames.

You want to take a bath, leave some scent of those seldom used lavender lemon oils lingering on your skin, but decide against it. 

No. Actually. You’re doing it. Taking a nice,  warm, spiced soak, rubbing lotion over every piece of you except the very sensitive bits, shimmying into the undergarments. The panties end up being cheekier than you like, but your butt looks cute, and the dress covers everything pretty good, anyway—well, everything that matters. 

After putting your hair up in a messy bun and throwing some mascara on, you’re ready for—actually, who the fuck are you kidding, you are the opposite of ready. Borderline panicking at the thought of this man coming to pick you up and taking you out and putting on his lewd charm and ruining this cute underwear. 

By the time he buzzes downstairs, it’s too late to decide on another pair of shoes. You have to live with sandals—with the fact that he might just look down and get a full, unfiltered view of your toes curling when he opens his pretty mouth. 

You’re totally fucked, here. 

You think it again when you open the door, finding his lean form all in black, leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets and his full bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s already thinking about eating you up. You literally feel it as his eyes look you up and down, from your messy bun to your pink painted toes. It’s been two seconds, and already you are soaked between your thighs. 

Doomed. You are just fucking doomed, and a part of you is just ready to surrender, because it takes so much goddamn energy to fight your attraction to this man. You can feel it like live electricity crackling over your skin. 

Of course, there’s that other part of you that wants to run right back up those stairs and lock yourself away from this gorgeous devil.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Your mouth opens to reply, but your brain takes a few seconds to catch up, utterly short circuited by how ridiculously handsome he is in his black button down, his dark pants belted low on his hips, those big feet in black boots. It’s a little strange, seeing him without his badge or his gun on his hip–but you can work with this. 

“Hi,” you answer, scathingly clever as ever. 

“Ready to go?” 

You’d brought down your purse, to avoid inviting him into the private sanctuary that is your little shoebox of an apartment, but now you almost regret it. 

“Yeah. Where are we going?” You step out the door, but he doesn’t move back, relishing your close proximity with a smirk. But there is a new softness in his brown eyes as he looks down at you that makes you a little weak in your knees. He reaches up to touch your cheek, feather light, and it boggles your mind how this man can be such a beast, and yet so gentle when he wants to be. 

“You’ll see.” You narrow your eyes at him, but for once, it’s more playful than fueled by annoyance. “Relax,” he says, his shapely mouth dancing as he suppresses a smile. “You’re in good hands, honey.” 

You don’t even flinch, as he drives this final nail into your coffin, the wave of desire inspired by the thought of those oh-so-capable hands and what they just might do to you tonight buzzing down your spine. This is how you die–you are strangely, almost, ok with it. 

When he has you safely ensconced in the passenger seat of his sleek black Charger you look over at him, his long arm draped over the wheel as he navigates the hostile environment of LA traffic like a shark patrolling a reef. “So…I saw you on the news last night.”

He lifts one of those dark brows, though his expression remains otherwise unreadable. “Haven’t really looked at what they’re saying,” he admits, like he’s used to the media getting the details wrong towards their own ends. 

“They said that you saved two underaged girls that were being traffiked?”

His mouth turns down, and you wonder if you’ve killed the happy vibe of the evening so soon with your nosy questions. But then again–you need to know. It’s a gnawing curiosity in your gut not just for the events that transpired, but the man who orchestrated them. Who you are currently alone in a car with, so you reason you have a right to know.

“Yeah,” he simply answers, not keen to crow his own praises. 

“And you…killed all those guys?”

He gives a sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his soul. You sense a weariness in him that he’s never shown on the outside before. 

“Yeah.” A long silence draws out between you, before he adds, “They were very bad dudes, y/n. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You can’t exactly say that you’re not–but ironically, the news of him shooting down those gangsters really has nothing to do with it.   

“I’m not. I mean–if they were abusing those girls, then they deserved it.”

He looks you over then, an appraising look as though you’ve given him some new information about your character. Maybe information you didn’t exactly mean to give away, but it’s out there now. He’s going think you’re a kindred spirit–or a blood thirsty gremlin. 

Either way, you don’t really want to discuss why you sympathize with those girls, and with him. 

“Are you okay?”

This question seems to take him aback, like he truly wasn’t expecting it. He’s surely used to being a pillar of stoic manhood, but you know this shit takes its toll. “Yeah. I’m fine, sweetheart. Thanks.”

You eye his hand resting on the center console, and a part of you very badly wants to reach out to him and take it. Almost as though he can sense it, or maybe because he wants it as badly as you do, he holds out his hand palm up in invitation. It’s possible you stare at that hand for a beat too long, his wide calloused palm and long blunt fingers. Long enough that he tries to play it off, starting to take it back, before you quickly lace your fingers with his. The way he smiles to himself sends warmth blooming all the way to your toes, and you’re glad he’s driving because they do, indeed, curl in your sandals. 

You give him a little squeeze, relishing the way your hand feels so tiny and protected in his own, and say, genuinely, “I’m sorry. For calling you a fake cop.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I’ve heard worse from people that aren’t half as pretty as you.” 

You want to fight with him on that—scoff, roll your eyes—but you just can’t, because as much as that small, whiny part of your brain tells you he’s lying, the bigger, rational part absolutely knows just by the sincerity in his tone that he thinks you really are a pretty, sublime creature. 

“But I still kinda think you’re a jerk,” you half tease. 

“Mmmm, what happened to that feisty little thing I know? She change into a cute sundress and suddenly become sweet?” 

You are loathe to admit the real reason for your change of heart. 

“You wish.” 

He chuckles. “Bet I can make you sweet.” 

You’re a total idiot for what comes out of your mouth, and your underwear is the one that will more than likely end up paying for this mindless insolence. “How?”

He brings your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing over the thin skin of your knuckles, sending a spear of desire through your arm and into the rest of your body. You make a tiny choked noise when his tongue peeks a taste of your skin, going unfocused and fuzzy, radio static and full throttle cavewoman. 

He kisses the center of your hand, then murmurs, “With sugar, silly girl.” 

It's not only the panties that pay a high price, but also your throbbing heart, pleasantly tense and hot and full of desire. 

He must find your slack jaw and blank stare immensely entertaining, because he’s laughing low and soft, rumbling in delight. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine.” There has never been a more heinous lie uttered in this entire state. 

You’re fairly new to LA, but you soon realize from your surroundings that he’s taking you to the Santa Monica Pier. 

You are thanking the universe and the gods when you arrive at your destination. Five more minutes—hell, seconds—trapped in that car with him and you would have climbed into his lap and started barking. 

When he swings into a parking space designated just for Law Enforcement you turn to him with a lifted brow, as though to say, Abuse your authority much? 

But you already know the answer to that. This date is a product of it. And so far…it’s not so bad. 

“Do you like fish tacos?” He asks, keeping your hand and massaging that bulky thumb over your wrist.

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before you made a reservation?” you taunt him. 

“No reservation,” he informs you with a quirk of his mouth. “But the manager owes me a favor.” 

He waves around the busy avenue and beach walk bustling with people, peppered with colorful shops and restaurants of every kind. “Pretty sure we can find you something you like, if Mexican food with an ocean view isn’t your thing…” He says it with a smirk, and you’re seriously not sure if you want to kiss this man or smack him. Maybe both, but save it for later, sings out the little devil on your shoulder before you can tell it to shut the fuck up. 

Good lord. 

You’ve heard of the restaurant–and that it’s famously hard to get into. You wonder if his connection is a product of a favor for a good deed, or a bit of blackmail. Maybe a little bit of both. You’re finding more and more that it’s hard to put this man in a single box. 

“Honestly…?” You make him wait for it, and you can tell your effort to put this confident man on the spot only half succeeds, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “That sounds pretty amazing.”

This evil, evil gentleman. He opens your door for you, helps you out of the car, stands patiently while you fix your dress, only half looks at your exposed thighs before you pull the hem down and cover them up again. 

Then, he threads his arm with yours and leads you onto the pier. You can’t believe you’ve never taken the initiative to come here before. It’s beautiful, lit up like a modern carnival of neon lights. 

“Oh, can we go on the Ferris wheel?” You ask, looking up at him. 

“Let’s get some food in you, and then we can do whatever you want.” He really needs to stop being so…caring. It’s seriously starting to mess up your insides. 

You turn into a fascinated kid as you walk down the salt coated slice of wood built out over the ocean, looking this and that way, pointing things out, mentioning possible after-dinner activities. You feel like you’re getting annoying, but Tom just seems amused by your sunburned tourist behavior. 

You pass by a little shooting booth with huge stuffed bunnies hanging from the rack, and he must see the way you’re ogling them, so he leans down close to your ear. “I could win you one of those?”

You grin back up at him. “I can win you one.” 

“Oh? Little sharpshooter?” 

It sounds like he doesn’t believe you, so you stick your tongue out at him between smiling lips. 

He pokes your forehead in retaliation. “Anybody ever tell you how fucking cute you are?” 

The restaurant lives up to its popularity and then some. It takes a while to get here, but you just know it’s worth every foot blister when they sit you down and immediately serve a popped bottle of iced sparkling water and delicious, warm salsa and chips. 

You made it just in time to catch the purple orange sun sinking below ocean level, and the front row seats really just make the view that much more spectacular. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if a dolphin jumped from the water, illuminated by the dying sun, just like in the movies.  

“This is… amazing.” You grab some tortilla chips to munch on while he pours you both glasses of the fancy water. “Have you ever been here before?” 

“Once.” He doesn’t elaborate, so you don’t want to push the issue, but you can tell there’s some kind of ache behind that simple word. 

“Okay, so you’re obviously not from LA—where are you from?” He leans over the table a bit, curious. 

“Kansas.” 

He opens his mouth, but you stop him because you already know what he’s going to say. 

“Don’t do it.” You point a warning finger at him, giggling like an idiot. 

“God, but I really want to,” he groans. 

“So,” you say, taking another bite of chip. “Why did you become a cop?”

“You start with the heavy questions, huh?” he teases you. “Thought I was the one who was trained in interrogation?”

You suppose he’s right, considering your earlier line of inquiry in the car. But you shrug in response. Considering how you ended up here, you see no reason to tiptoe around things. “Just curious.”

He offers up an easy smile, letting you know you didn’t offend him. “Well, I actually always wanted to be a dentist.”

You snort with disbelief, trying to imagine this man’s bedside manner. But then, dentists do get to cause people a lot of pain… “Ok. Maybe that tracks.”

“I’m fucking with you,” he informs you with a smirk. 

You do your best to appear annoyed, and fear you fail at it badly. “Guess it’s not hard to imagine you pulling teeth, is all.”

He huffs at that. “I always wanted to be a cop, since I was a kid. My old man was a detective. Killed in the line of duty. I guess I felt like I needed to pick up his unfinished business.”

You blink at that. You and your big fucking mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for his hand across the table. He curls his fingers with yours, playing with your aqua painted fingernails with his thumb.

“It’s alright. Happened a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

You squeeze his hand in yours, saying nothing. 

“What about you? What made you want to be a nurse?” 

You don’t really feel comfortable enough to tell him your whole coming-of-nurse story, so you give him the cut version: “when I was young and felt like I had no one, a nurse comforted me.”

“How young?”

“Ten.”

He winces. “Maybe I’ll get the full version of that story one day?”

There’s an epiphany, here, in this little restaurant with the comfy blue chairs, and it’s that Tom Ludlow scares you because he makes you feel something deep, deep inside your chest that you can’t even remember being there before he came along. Julian was easy, child’s play; although it stings, you’re writing him down as just another failed fling. You know if Ludlow gets his hands on your little sensitive heart, it will be a very different story. 

You take a big drink of water to wash down the salty crunch. “Sorry.”

“For?”

“Being so…cold.”

He chuckles. “Oh, you are so cold. Gonna have to make it up to me.”

Warmth floods the top layers of your skin. “I already said I’d win you the bunny.”

You’re amazed at how easily he can transition back into a smooth, carnal beast. “I don’t know if that’s enough for me to forgive you.” The fake hurt in his tone should not make you squirm in your seat. 

You bite like a dumb, good little fish should: “okay, then, how do I make it up to you, Officer Ludlow?” 

You’re hoping to faze him with the sultry innocence of your tone, but it just fuels his devilish aura instead. “We can start with me turning you over my knee.”

You don’t have a retort, but your vagina absolutely does, and she gets you squirming in your seat. 

He leans forward, knowing smile sure to be your undoing one way or another. “Would you like that?” 

“Thought you didn’t want to hurt me?” You challenge, trying to keep cool despite the blazing Ludlow heat. 

“Who says spanking has to hurt? Dr. Bitch?”

You can’t help the giggle that rolls out of you, and he seems to find it entertaining that you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “No, Tom, believe it or not, I am a grown woman who has lived an experienced life.” 

“And how was it?”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“You know, when you asked one of your vanilla boyfriends to swat that gorgeous, plump ass a little bit? Just to see how it would feel.” He leans his chin on his palm, listening intently for your answer, and you think you might be on your way to spontaneous combustion. 

How in the fuck can he just hit the nail right on the head like that? Know about parts of your life that you haven’t shared with anyone—not that there were many to share with. Are you really this readable? 

Once again, he has your sharp tongue dulled with arousal and embarrassment, and you shift in the chair. “He did it, like, once and then stopped.” 

“And did you like it?” He presses. 

“Yes.” 

He takes a little sip of his water, raising both dark brows over the glass at you. “Good to know.” 

Tom recommends the margaritas and fish tacos, so you let him order for the both of you while admiring the view. You can’t decide which one you like better, his handsome face or the ocean scape.

As you are finishing your delicious dinner the last rays of the sunset are putting on a five star show for you, the sky painted that impossible deep blue and purple, the water shimmering like color-changing opals.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you sigh, and you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye with a softness you haven’t seen from him before. You get up the courage to meet his eyes, and he smiles at you, but for once not like he intends to eat you.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore, sweetheart.”

“Goddammit.”

He laughs at that, a real belly laugh that makes you warm all over even without the aid of your two nursed margaritas. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to out shoot you for that little bunny now.” 

This wins you more genuine laughter. “Alright, Annie Oakley. Lead the way.” 

[writethrough]

The Diviner (Part V)

(Morpheus x Prophetess Reader)

Synopsis: Your body needs time to heal, but your unconscious is finally dreaming.

Warnings: None? (Message me if you see any.)

Word Count: 3219

A/N: Did you really think I'd leave you hanging a full week after that little blurb of a last chapter? I think I've more than made up for it with this sucker.

Thank you to everyone who's stuck it out with me. I really enjoyed hearing what you like about this series.

To everyone who has reblogged, you are spectacular humans and deserve an endless supply of your favorite food.

I hope you all enjoy this final chapter! I'd love to know what you thought of this series, and if I should post more multi-part fics in the future.

Series Masterlist

You wander. A maze of darkness before you.  

You exhale and remember Morpheus.  

A room appears, lit by stained glass, with a throne in the middle. And he's there, alive, staring at you in shock. 

—  

“I don’t understand,” you say. “How am I awake?”  

You were dying. At least it felt like you were dying. So, why are you...fine?  

“If I may?” Lucienne asks. Morpheus called for her as soon as he saw you.  

His chin dips a fraction, but it’s enough for Lucienne to continue.  

“Given your abilities, I believe the severity of your injuries—and healing in the Dreaming—has allowed your subconscious to manifest.” She smiles, pleased with her next words. “You’re dreaming, my lady.”  

Your brow furrows, and you glance from her to Morpheus.  

“How is that possible? If I’m healing, shouldn’t my mind be recovering as well?”  

“Your mind is the most resilient part of you, prophetess. It stands to reason it would need little to no time to replenish,” Morpheus says.  

Your eyes lower to the floor, considering this.  

For centuries, you’ve seen possible futures—travesties no one could imagine. And you haven’t forgotten one.  

Day in and day out, vision after vision, a constant rush of images, sounds, smells, and even sensations when intense enough. Your mind has built up a tolerance for nearly anything and everything.  

It seems almost dying is child's play for it though your body would be down for some time.  

You take in Morpheus’ throne room, truly seeing where you are. “I’m…dreaming.” And you laugh. In disbelief, in wonder—in sheer joy.  

You are dreaming.  

—  

Morpheus transported your body into his realm as soon as you fainted.  

Between your physical injuries and the attack meant for Morpheus, your only chance was the magic and tools in the Dreaming.  

Lucienne, Matthew, and Death helped him stabilize you, but he never expected you to walk right up to him as if you were fine.  

However your body absorbed the attack, it caused your powers to shut down, and you’re experiencing the Dreaming for the first time in centuries.  

You’re acting yourself mostly, but sometimes you grow tired, your physical form telling your unconscious you aren’t out of the woods yet.  

Morpheus urges you to take a seat, worry flashing through his eyes.  

“I’m okay,” you say. “It’s just a minor spell.”  

“I wish I could do more,” he says, hand still on the back of your bicep.  

“You’ve done plenty. More than I could ever hope for.”  

His jaw clenches, a twitch of movement, but you catch it. You’ve gotten better at picking up his micro-expressions.  

“I mean it, Morpheus. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you.” You try to push as much conviction in the words as possible.   

“You wouldn’t have been in harm's way if it wasn’t for me.”  

You shake your head, dizzying yourself and need to rest it on your hand. Morpheus’ brow pinches slightly.  

“Warrens decided to trap you and use me. I should've predicted that.”  

“That’s not in your ability,” he says.  

“And I should’ve figured I'd be in danger when Death said you’d be fine. I should’ve known she saw me dying and not you.”

It clicked not longer after you woke up. Of course, Death knew what was supposed to happen.

“You must not focus on the past. It will do nothing to aid your recovery.”  

You sigh. “I know. I just feel so stupid.”  

Your eyes are downcast. It surprises you when a gentle touch lifts your chin and directs you to focus on him.  

“I will not have you speaking as if you’ve done something wrong,” he says. “Because of you, I am alive. I will forever be grateful.”  

He waits for an answer. All you can do is nod.  

His touch vanishes, and he stands.  

“Perhaps I can show you more of the Dreaming.”  

You give him a small smile. “I’d like that.”  

—  

Time moves differently in the Dreaming. It was best when you stopped trying to keep track of it. All you know is that you’ve been recovering for some time. Long enough for you to have your role carved out here and for the residents to call you by name.  

Your exhaustion and dizzy spells are few and far between, but they’re intense and accompanied by symptoms of visions. A faint smell, a phantom touch, even a whisper of a voice, but no matter how much you try, you can’t hang onto them. They slip through your fingers before you recognize what they are. It’s like you’re missing a limb.  

Today, the loss is affecting you more than you thought it could. You miss your ability. As much trouble as it can cause, you somehow feel untethered from yourself. Even with your body lying unconscious, you’re more of a shell now than ever.  

And as much as you try to hide it, somehow, Morpheus knows.  

“You will return to yourself,” he says.  

You’re sitting in Fiddler’s Green on a bench beneath a grove of magnolia trees.  

“It feels like it’s been years,” you say, rubbing your arm. You haven’t felt the breeze on your skin since the attack. You hardly notice it now as the grass moves with it.  

You can tell he’s about to respond, and you already know what he’ll say.  

“Don’t tell me ‘it takes time’ or ‘be patient.’ I’ve been patient. I’ve had to be patient since Destiny gave me this damn power, and now I can’t even access it because I missed the signs last time!” You rub your face, trying to push the frustration out.  

He lets you have your moment to feel that anger.  

“Immortality is crueler than death,” he begins. “It's companions are loneliness and waiting.”  

You look at him, scanning his features, and nod. Your agitation cools into sympathy. 

“I forget what happened to you sometimes. I’m sorry.”  

“I will not accept an unnecessary apology,” he says. “My experiences do not outweigh yours.”  

“Nevertheless, I’m free here. You weren’t.”  

He locks eyes with you, a softness to them. “I am also free.”  

It’s like he’s latched onto your soul. His timbre pulls you closer. And you realize you don’t feel so lost when he’s around.  

“Boss!”  

You lean back and look toward the sound, missing Morpheus’ eyes widening a fraction at Matthew’s interruption, too.  

“Boss! Death’s here.” Matthew lands in front of you.  

Your brow furrows, and your heart quickens. “Death’s here?”  

Why would Death be here? She wouldn’t come to the Dreaming if she didn’t have a good reason.  

What if she’s working? What if you aren’t improving and the Dreaming is masking your worsening condition?  

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, sensing your tension. He puts the pieces together quickly as he stands. 

“I requested she come.” He turns to you, voice tender, reassuring. “I wished to spend time with her.”  

—  

You haven't seen Death since you arrived.  

She and Morpheus urged you to stay even though you wanted to give them privacy. You forgot what it was like to have friends—to be close to others. It was nice.  

Then she whisked you away, telling Morpheus it was “girl time.”  

You’re strolling on one of the paths: one that extends as long as you can walk and leads to wherever you wish.  

You’ve had enough time to think about that day, your limitations, Death’s, what Warrens did to you…  

“You knew I’d be there,” you say.  

Neither of you stop walking. It’s not a surprise that you’ve brought this up.  

“That’s why you were surprised. Not because I had a vision of Morpheus, but because I was supposed to be there all along—because I was supposed to die—and you couldn’t interfere.”  

She grimaces. “I’m sorry.”  

You let out a breathy laugh. “I should be used to all the secrecy, but I’m not.” You pause. “And yet, I get it. Price of power and all that, I guess.”  

Now, she halts. “I know this won’t bring you comfort, but your being alive is a miracle.”  

“Then how am I…”  

“I don’t know. And that’s not something I say often,” Death says. “I can only speculate, but the day Destiny came to you—before that, he came to me and asked I keep you here. I didn’t ask why, but maybe this was meant to happen. You were the only one who could save my brother.”  

You shake your head. “I still don’t understand. Why give me this power at all? Why not just put me on the path so I could save Morpheus at the end? And how could you see my murder if you made that promise?”  

“Not even I am sure of that.” She answers your last question. “But: Is that not what Destiny did? Put you on that very path?” She pauses, then softly. “And gave you a purpose. One bigger than anyone should have, but a purpose nonetheless.”  

That thought runs around your head. 

Did Destiny do that? 

It's hard to imagine that being the reason. But why else would he— 

“Do you…Do you think Destiny gave me this power so I would survive?”  

You aren’t sure that makes sense. 

You. Out of everyone that could make a difference in the world, Destiny chose you.  

Death shrugs. “Again, I can’t be certain. But think about it, it brought you to Hob, to me," she gives you a knowing look, "to Dream.” 

You roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that I hated Morpheus for the longest time.”  

“Need I remind you that was in the past tense.” She grins.  

“So, you’re saying it’s harder to kill me than I originally thought,” you say, trying to change the subject.  

“None of that,” she tuts. “Even though it’s not under the best circumstances, I am happy you and Morpheus are getting to know one another.”  

You hum. “I spent so long not knowing what to feel for him—having all of these unanswered questions—it’s strange…to finally have that behind me.” You pause. “I enjoy his company.”  

“I would’ve used a stronger word than that,” she says, grinning cheekily. 

The tiny smiles Morpheus sent you and the glances you threw him could’ve made her squeal if she was the type.  

“Okay,” you wave her off, “enough.”  

She puts her hands up, yielding.  

You hesitate before telling her this next part.  

“I think—No, I know my visions are returning.”  

“That’s great!” She grabs your arm. “...Isn’t it?”  

“It’s just…They aren’t back yet. They’re not full visions. And I don’t know what that means. Or how long I’ll be like this.” You gesture to yourself.  

She smiles empathetically. “It means you’re getting better. I can only imagine how frustrating it’s been, but you are healing.”  

You nod. She’s right.  

She slips her arm into yours. “Now, let me tell you all the embarrassing stories about my brother.”  

You throw your head back and laugh.  

—  

It’s been a few days since then, you think. You and Morpheus have spent most of your time together. He’s become someone you care for deeply, and you wonder if he feels the same.  

You think he does when he pulls out your chair or helps you cross a stream. He’s interested in your life besides your visions. And when you told him about your family and loved ones throughout the years, he placed his hand atop yours. You could still feel it sometimes.  

You’re both in the library. A rare occurrence of rest brought Morpheus to curl up with you on the plush sofa. Well, you curled up. Morpheus has his feet on the floor but is leaning into the cushions.  

“I’ll have read everything in here by the time I wake up,” you joke, flipping your page.  

“I can feel your bouts of power when they rise. It will not be long now.”  

He always speaks so assuredly when it’s about your healing. His steadfastness has rubbed off on you. You aren’t so pessimistic about it anymore.  

You don’t notice you’re staring at him until he asks if something’s wrong.  

You shake your head. “No. I just don’t know what I would’ve done all this time if you weren’t here.”  

He faces forward, not staring at anything, and silence settles over you. The atmosphere shifts, and you can almost feel the tension coming from him.  

“There is no universe where I would have been elsewhere,” he says, as still as ever.  

And it’s his seriousness that makes you drop your light tone and scoot closer.  

“I know. And I appreciate that.” You glance at your fingers. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  

“You haven’t.” He rests his hand on yours. “But know that you are my priority, and I am happy to have been by your side.”  

“Morpheus…” you lock eyes, “we’ve been over this. I hate that you feel obligated to help me.”  

His brows twitch inward. “I feel no such compulsions. I am grateful you saved my life, but I can never repay such sacrifice.” He pauses. “Your wellbeing is my concern as your…friend.”  

His thumb brushes your cheekbone as he searches your eyes.  

You pull your lips into a thin line, hoping he can’t feel the heat in your cheeks. “Just know that I wouldn’t change what I did. I wanted to save you—I needed to.”  

“You didn’t—”  

“I did!” You say almost desperately. “You’re the only connection I have to my past. You’re the only one who knows who I was. I can’t lose you…”  

You’re afraid to look him in the eye, but he lifts your chin with a slightly hooked finger, tenderness in his gaze.  

“You won’t.”  

He pulls his hand away, and you realize how much closer you both have gotten.  

“You can’t promise that, though,” you whisper.  

“No. I cannot. But I can promise that ritual is gone.”  

You clench your jaw. “That won’t stop me from worrying.”  

“Then you know how I feel.”  

He says it like a joke—mirthful—a tone that’s both strange and welcome in him.  

You roll your eyes halfheartedly. “You don’t need to worry. I’m fine.”  

“I will stop worrying when you’re awake,” he says. “Until then, I will watch over you.”  

A slight shiver runs down your spine. Morpheus' entire focus on you always makes you a little weak, but hearing him say those words? They almost send your knees buckling.  

“I don’t understand. Why have you been so insistent about this?”  

Something seems to settle in his eyes, his head tipping closer.  

“When you were writhing in pain—screaming—something came over me that hasn’t in a long while.”  

You tilt your head, waiting.  

“Fear.”  

“What?” you whisper.  

The back of his fingers grazes your cheek, lingering, caressing.  

“I feared I would lose you.” He’s searching you, analyzing every twitch and passing emotion.  

“Morpheus,” you start, “what are you saying?”  

The corner of his lips lift briefly.  

“You’ve become important to me,” he breathes. “My prophetess.”  

His lips are so close to yours. A moment more, and they’d touch. But as much as you want this, you stop him.  

“I don’t want our first kiss to be when I’m dreaming,” you say. “I want it to feel real because…you’ve become important to me, too.”  

Softly, he rests his forehead against yours.  

“I will wait as long as I must. Knowing you feel the same is enough.”  

—  

Your dizziness has been nonexistent these past couple of weeks. You’ve been able to help Lucienne in the library much more. However, this morning, if you could even call it that in the Dreaming—it’s like you’ve been getting hit from all sides.  

A breeze on your cheek while you were indoors.  

A shimmering red when you paged through a book.  

And whispered words of “regret this” and mumblings you couldn’t decipher.  

But this is your strongest one yet.  

It’s not images or scents, not even a noise, but an expansive, all-encompassing feeling blooming within your chest. You swear you’ll burst when Lucienne sees you steadying yourself against a table.  

She says your name. “Are you alright?”  

The feeling keeps getting bigger and bigger, and then Lucienne seems so far away, then the entire library. And you realize it’s time.  

“I think…I think I’m waking up.”  

A moment after you spoke, it feels like you're falling backward.  

Your eyes open with a quick inhale, and you look around.  

You’re in a bed, and everything feels so much more tangible. There are soft sheets, a comforting breeze from the open window, and that unmistakable feeling of something new beginning.  

You slowly rise, but where you thought there would be soreness, none comes.  

You've healed.  

You laugh in disbelief, running out of the room and to the one person you need to see.  

He’s creating dreams, something you’d usually take a moment to marvel at, but you can’t seem to give a damn.  

He glances over his shoulder, lips ticking up when he sees you.  

He’s about to speak. Then, his eyebrows twitch downward when you don’t stop walking, and you barely contain your smile before you kiss him.  

It takes him no more than a moment to grip your waist and pull you closer. To feel him like this instead of those phantom pressures, it's indescribable.   

You reluctantly retreat, and he stares at you with this kind of awe, tracing the back of his knuckles down your cheek, his features brighter than you’ve ever seen.   

“How are you feeling?” he asks.   

You take a moment before answering. “I’m okay. Everything feels…stronger now.” You give him a small smile. “Real.”  

“Not many have visited the Dreaming as you are,” he says. “If you’re overwhelmed, please tell me.”  

You shake your head fondly. “Not overwhelmed, just…happy.”  

“I am glad.”  

Your hands rest on his chest as you stare at him, too thrilled to care that maybe you should say something. But all you want to do is look at him—feel him now that you’re back in your body.  

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind.  

He’s gripping your hips, the lightest of touches, yet it almost burns you in the best way possible. His thumb grazes one side, grabbing your attention. Like he knows you’re daydreaming. 

“I must give you something,” he says.  

He reaches within his coat, and in his palm is a gold band embedded with a ruby, a piece of Morpheus’ Dreamstone.  

“Stay with me,” he whispers, forehead pressed to yours. “Come and go as you please, but always return. To your home.” He pauses. “To me.”  

You stare at him, eyes wide with wonder and glistening.  

“Yes,” you breathe, beaming.  

He strokes your cheekbone with his thumb before cupping it fully and slotting his lips between yours.  

You giggle. “I have to say I really didn’t see this coming.”  

If Morpheus was one to roll his eyes, he would have.  

“Do not make me regret this.”  

The lit in his voice pulls a playful gasp from you.  

“It’s too late. You can’t change your mind,” you say, eyes alight.  

His warm smile sends gooseflesh up your arms.  

“Never,” he whispers.  

Destiny has strange ways of working, but after centuries of unanswered questions, you finally think you understand why he chose you.  

Maybe the eldest Endless has a softer spot for his younger brother than any of you realize.

Taglist: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @under-kitty

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[life-at-hogwarts]

Darkness within (House of Gaunt)

Pairing: Ominis x GN! reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, intrusive thoughts, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3.3 k

“I’m sorry I’m making it so difficult. I wish I was easier to love.”

“Nothing about you is hard to love. In fact, loving you feels as easy as breathing. You don’t need to be ashamed of your scars. I know what I signed up for, and I haven’t changed my mind.”

Summary: Bromance. Violence. Trauma.

A/n: More emotional torture because that's just how I roll.

Chapter 5 of House of Gaunt

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 AO3

If you hadn’t felt the lack of sleep when you came back from your date night, you certainly felt it now. You had struggled to pay attention in your classes all morning. Partly because you were so sleep-deprived your brain could barely process what was going on, but also because just sitting next to Ominis made your stomach flutter. All you could think about was kissing him and your mind kept wandering back to the night before. Your distractedness cost you 5 housepoints in potions class when you accidentally added too much leech juice, causing the liquid to burn through the cauldron and flooding the potions stations of all those around you.

By lunch you were so exhausted you seriously considered skipping the rest of the day and calling in sick. You listlessly pushed your food around on your plate and fought the urge to rest your head on Ominis shoulder. The blonde had been quiet all morning, struggling to stay awake and was now resting his head in his palm, lost in thought, his meal still untouched.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked and pushed your plate away, officially giving up on trying to choke down lunch.

“Sebastian wasn’t in his bed when I came back. He must have spent the entire night in the Undercroft studying the journal,” Ominis sighed. “I’m worried about him.”

Since both of you had skipped breakfast, you had only seen your freckled friend briefly in class today and you hadn’t had the time yet to catch up.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“He doesn’t listen!” Ominis groaned exasperated and tiredly rubbed his face. This entire thing with the journal really ate at him but you didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire between him and Sebastian. “His obsession with finding a cure is going to be…” Ominis stopped in the middle of the sentence and muttered under his breath,“Speak of the devil...”

You didn’t have to look up to know that Sebastian must be on his way towards the Slytherin table. No one could sneak up on Ominis, especially not Sebastian, whose footsteps and heartbeat he knew as well as his own. The freckled brunette slumped on the seat next to you, looking about as bad as you felt. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes he must have gotten about as much sleep as the both of you.

 “Sebastian! You look awful. How long did you stay up?”

“You’re one to talk. I know the two of you snuck out last night too. How was your date by the way?” he shot back, a taunting smile on his face. You laughed and gave him a cheeky wink.

“Don’t try to change the subject. We are worried about you,” Ominis chimed in, his voice sounding strained and tired.

“Look I don’t feel like being interrogated. Leave it alone. Seriously,” Sebastian groaned, unable to hide his annoyance. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and prayed they would leave you out of it. Trying to diffuse the tension you dramatically collapsed on the table, burying your face in your crossed arms. “Merlin what I would do for a quick nap right now. Do you think Professor Binns would even notice if we missed class?”

“Nice try darling, but I am not risking detention for a nap,” Ominis sighed and let his fingers run through your hair. Surprised by this public display of affection Sebastian raised an eyebrow but remained silent. It must be odd for him to see his best friends dating, you thought to yourself. I hope he doesn’t feel left out.  “Says the one who falls asleep in class,” you replied teasingly and laughed when Ominis pretended to pout. Sebastian joined in and just like that the tension between the two was gone and they were back to being best friends.

“Watch out Ominis. Mc will lead you down a dangerous path. Sneaking around the castle at night, skipping class, soon you will join us on our little excursions in the Highlands.”

“You wish. I don’t even want to know what you two are up to when I’m not around.”

“Don’t worry I will take care of your sweetheart,” Sebastian grinned, earning an annoyed eyeroll from the both of you. Then he added, “I’m happy for you. Truly. You two deserve to be happy. Just keep the snogging at a minimum when I’m around, please.”

----------

You clutched your scarf, buried your nose in the soft fabric to protect it from the sharp wind so typical for the Highlands and hurried your steps. The path to Hogsmeade was usually filled with Hogwarts students, but to your luck the weather seemed to have scared off most of them. The sky was dark and hung with even darker clouds, and the wind tugged on your clothes mercilessly, no doubt the presage of a storm. You rushed past the shops on main street and made your way up to the town square where Sebastian already waited for you at the foot of the giant willow tree.

“Hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you greeted him, still out of breath.

“Tell me again why we didn’t just meet at the three broomsticks?” your friend grumbled as he tried to keep his thick brown locks away from his face.

“It was your idea to meet here,” you protested but your friend gave you a playful nudge to signal that he was just messing around.

“Tell you what the first round of Butterbeer is on you and we are even,” he laughed.

Only minutes later the both of you warmed your hands on the warm mugs and inhaled the sweet scent of the liquid. The three broomsticks was relatively empty but you welcomed it. The things you and Sebastian usually discussed required a certain degree of privacy.

“So, tell me about your date,” Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. He seemed to be in a good mood today.

“Didn’t Ominis already give you a play-by-play?”

The brunettes face darkened. “Not exactly.” Seems like I’ve hit a nerve. Of course, you had noticed that something between them had changed ever since the scriptorium. Usually, you tried to stay out of it, but today you felt like you had to ask. “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“The usual. We’re still having…a disagreement over the spellbook. I’m sure your beau must have told you all about it,” he scoffed, and his entire demeanor changed. Gone was the lighthearted mischief maker that you knew and loved. You had seen and felt his dark side several times, this irritable, angry and bitter version of him and knew arguing with him would be pointless but you had to try.

“He’s worried about you because he loves you, you know?”

“If he loved me, he would help me find a cure for Anne,” Sebastian spat, his voice cold as ice.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Of course, you take his side.”

“Now that we are courting you mean. That doesn't change anything for me. Our friendship is a separate thing, I’m just trying to understand what’s going on between the two of you,” you protested and fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was unfair of Sebastian to accuse you of taking sides, when you had always been there for him to help him execute whatever crazy plan he had come up with.

“Don’t. This is between Ominis and I. Now let’s talk about something else. You still haven’t told me how your date went,” he tried to diffuse the situation and gave you a tired smile. “But first, I’m going to get us something a little stronger.” You couldn’t help but smile too when you watched your friend work his charm and quick wit to convince Sirona to slip him two glasses of Firewhiskey.

On your way back to the castle you felt the alcohol taking effect, keeping you warm from the icy wind. Next to you, Sebastian swayed dangerously – he had had even more shots than you. We are going to be so hungover tomorrow. The way back to the castle felt endlessly long. This was made even worse by Sebastian who tried to lay down on the floor or run away from you every two minutes. You felt like a babysitter chasing after him and getting him to follow you. When you finally reached the castle, you decided to escort him to the dorms. Ominis welcomed you with raised eyebrows when he noticed the state his friend was in and together you dragged him into their room. After you had taken care of your friend, Ominis accompanied you back to the exit of the common room. “I take it you two had fun tonight. I’m going to have fun holding back his hair all night, judging by the condition he’s in.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not. I’m just tired,” he quickly reassured you and placed a quick kiss on your lips before he backed away and made a face. “That bad?” you giggled.

“Let’s just hope you don’t run into any professors.”

Still, he didn’t back away when you pulled him closer for another kiss. You buried your fingers in his hair and pressed your cold body against his warmth. He replied by deepening the kiss, his tongue starting to explore yours, as he tightened his grip on you. You enjoyed the way he shivered and gasped under your touch when you ran your hands down his spine. Then suddenly, the warmth was gone. Ominis had forced himself to pull away and left you longing for more. You looked at him, puzzled, and watched him catch his breath. Why did you stop? “We shouldn’t. Not here. Not like this,” he finally managed to get out and gestured at the room. You didn’t care. Ominis cupped your face and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“You know how much I want you. But this is not the time or place.” Pretending to pout you turned away from him, but you were too drunk to keep up your pretense and started giggling. 

“Go to bed, darling. Sleep it off. I have to go look after Sebastian,” Ominis murmured softly and stroked your cheek. “Are you going to make it back to your dorms safely?” The concern in his voice made your heart soar. It felt good, being loved this way. “I’ll be fine,” you reassured him and reached for his hand. He pulled you into a hug instead and you buried your face in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Goodnight, darling”, he whispered and placed another kiss on the top of your head.

As soon as you stepped through the doorway into the corridor someone grabbed your arm. “Ominis…,” you giggled and turned around. You froze when you were met by Marvolos piercing stare and instinctively took a step back.

“You know if you want to be with a Gaunt so badly, I would be the better option. I don’t get why you waste your time with my crippled brother. It’s not like he is going to inherit anything,” he sneered, his voice dripping with hatred and disgust.

Without hesitation you took a swing and punched him. Hard. A disgusting cracking sound echoed through the empty corridor, followed by a long silence. Finally, Marvolo looked up, a nasty smile on his lips, blood dripping from his broken nose. You suddenly became aware of how helpless you would be if he decided to fight you right now. Still half-sedated from the alcohol you were an easy target. You clutched your wand and waited for Marvolo to retaliate. Nothing happened. The only sound was the steady dripping of blood onto the stone floor. It made him look even more dangerous. Even though he was younger than you your instincts told you not to underestimate him. According to Ominis he took great pleasure in practicing the Unforgivables on other people. After a few more moments that felt like an eternity he simply turned around and vanished through the entrance of the common room. Your hands were shaking when you made your way back to your dorms. Whatever this was with Marvolo, you could feel that it was only the beginning.

-------

When you woke up in the morning your head was throbbing. You could only guess how Sebastian must be feeling.  Thinking about the events of last night you groaned, knowing that Ominis would not be amused when he found out what you had done to his brother, and you were not in the mood for conflict. Maybe I’ll just stay in my room all day. As much as you loved that plan you knew you had to go to the Room of Requirement to take care of all your rescued creatures. Highwing always got grumpy when he didn’t get his dinner on time, and you really didn’t want to deal with a grumpy Hippogriff.

You spent the entire morning feeding, grooming, and playing with your creatures, really taking your time. After that you tended to your plants and quickly brewed a few more healing potions for good measure. You even managed to get Deek to bring you a couple of sandwiches from the kitchens, so you didn’t have to go to the great hall for lunch. Just when you thought about taking Highwing out for a ride you heard someone enter the Room of Requirement. Ominis.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

You tried reading his face to figure out how to approach this, but he remained expressionless.  While you were thinking about what to say he continued, “You don’t need to hide from me. I heard what you did to Marvolo last night. What was that about?”

“I can handle your brother.”

Ominis furrowed his brows and moved closer. “What happened?” he asked softly. He didn’t seem angry at all, he seemed concerned. You let out a shaky breath and gently placed a hand on his forearm, “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“What did he say to you?” Ominis asked again, his milky gaze holding yours.

“He insulted you and I lost my temper. That’s what happened.”

For a long time, no one said anything. You would have done anything to know what was going on inside of Ominis’ head as you waited for his response. Was he angry at you? You thought about Marvolos disgusting grin and clenched your fists again. I’m not going to apologize for this, you thought grimly. Finally, Ominis spoke up.

“I think it’s best that we end this right now before you get hurt.”

It felt like someone had hit you in the face and you quicklypulled back your hand that was still resting on his arm. This reaction didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t even you who got hurt but Marvolo. If anything, this proved that you could look after yourself.

“Where is this coming from? I had a little disagreement with your brother and you want to break up?”

“They will come after you. It was stupid of me to think they would ever let me be happy,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Ominis, I’m not going anywhere,” you tried to reassure him, but he was starting to panic. His hands were shaking violently, and he kept cradling his head repeating the same thing over and over again. “They’re going to hurt you. And it will be my fault.”

Seeing him like this, you felt helpless. “I need you to calm down. Focus on my voice and breathe. Nothing is going to happen to me, alright? Your family won’t hurt me. It’s alright. Everything is alright,” you once again tried to talk him down, but it was no use. He seemed to be trapped inside of his own mind and you couldn’t get him out.

 “My thoughts are so loud. I can’t make them stop. It’s so loud. I need to make it stop,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. Now you were starting to panic as well. You had never seen him like this before and it scared you. What scared you even more was that you didn’t know how to help him.

“Stay here. I’ll go get Sebastian,” you said and hurried out of the room. You didn’t even bother searching for him in the Slytherin dorms and headed straight for the Undercroft. Sure enough, you found your friend, his nose buried in the old tome you had found in the Scriptorium.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked when he saw your flushed face.

“Something is wrong with Ominis. I don’t know how to calm him down. He insists that his family is going to do something to me. He says he can’t make his thoughts stop,” you blurted out, stumbling over your words.

Sebastian nodded and closed his book. “I see. He gets like that sometimes. Bring me to him. I know what to do.”

-------

The sun was about to set when you made your way to the Slytherin dorms. A few minutes ago you had received an owl from Sebastian, that Ominis was better and wanted to talk to you. As you hurried down the corridors of Hogwarts you smiled to yourself. It was heartwarming the way these two took care of each other, despite being in a fight. The connection between them was more than friendship, it was brotherhood.

Ominis waited for you in front of the entrance to the common room. Before you could say anything he offered you his hand. “Care to accompany me for a walk?”  Even though you wanted nothing more than ask how he was and what had happened, you silently interlocked your fingers with his, giving him space. For a while you walked in silence, leaving the dungeons behind and passing the empty great hall. When Ominis lead you through the courtyard towards a little iron gate you finally understood where you were headed. The boathouse. Of course. On your way down the endless-seeming staircase Ominis finally started to speak.

“Sorry you had to see me like this.”

“There is no need to apologize. Do you want to tell me what happened?” you asked tentatively. The blonde took a shaky breath before answering and you squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“Sometimes I get these thoughts. They are not real, but they feel so real that I lose myself in them. It’s like they are screaming at me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“What are they saying?”

“Usually my worst fears. Things I don’t want to happen,” he whispered and lowered his gaze, collapsing into himself. You had seen him like this before – at Gaunt Manor when his father had raised his voice at the dinner table. Seeing what his family had done to him made your blood boil, but you put your anger aside and asked softly, “That sounds awful. How can I help you when something like that happens?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry I’m making it so difficult. I wish I was easier to love.”

“Nothing about you is hard to love. In fact, loving you feels as easy as breathing. You don’t need to be ashamed of your scars. I know what I signed up for, and I haven’t changed my mind.”

Ominis still didn’t look at you, his empty gaze fixated on the dark water of the lake.  “You haven’t seen me at my worst yet. Believe it or not I’m actually keeping it together pretty well at the moment. That can change. And when it does, things get ugly. You don’t want to be around when that happens.”

You could feel him trying to pull away but you didn’t let him. “Stop. I’m perfectly able of making my own decisions. Try to push me away as much as you like, but I’m not going anywhere.”

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Two

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Over the next few nights, Fireheart observed Cloudkit as he wandered around camp and met his Clanmates. It was easier to count how many cats didn’t make a comment on his unusual colors, resulting in a frown on the little kit’s face that deepened with every repeated remark. The grey tom, Ashkit, took to standing protectively by Cloudkit and mimicking his frown until the topic was eventually dropped.

“I just don’t want him to feel self-conscious,” Brindleface said to Fireheart as the little toms wrestled with each other while their sister watched. “I know that every other Clan is going to say something about his face and tail. He can’t help being colored like that.”

Fireheart’s eye creased at Cloudkit yowling in triumph as he toppled Ashkit. “I’m sure RiverClan will like how he looks, at least. They’re all for unusual things.”

Brindleface twitched her whiskers. “Maybe he’ll be the one thing they like about us, then.”

A beautiful silver face passed over Fireheart’s vision. He said nothing.

Only a night or so after that conversation came the full moon, and with that came the Gathering. Fireheart watched the mixture of excitement and tension in everyone’s bodies come out in the form of nervously tapping their tails or kneading the sand with their claws out. He couldn’t blame them; ThunderClan had uncomfortable news to report, if they were brave enough to report it at all.

“I wish I could at least go for a moment.” Greystripe, sitting by Fireheart’s side, chewed morosely at his squirrel’s paws. “I’d like to see how everyone is.”

Ravenwing, on Greystripe’s other side, shook his head. “It’s for the best that you don’t go to any more Gatherings. Showing up right now especially is just begging for a fight to break out.”

Greystripe’s tail swiped to the right as he muttered, “Wouldn’t be the first time we broke the peace.”

Fireheart sighed. His chest tightened at the memory of the battle in ShadowClan’s moors during a Gathering night when he was still an apprentice. Kits and elders alike had died on the one night of the month where even arguments were sacrilege. Another cat that wasn’t to be named had been the cause of it, and, like the deputy, everyone danced around even the slightest mention of him.

As could’ve been predicted, Ravenwing was quick to change the topic. “Actually, does anyone know who’s going? It’s almost time to leave and I haven’t seen Bluestar at all yet.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise. “…You’re right. She must still be in her den.” He stood up. “I’ll ask her. I’d like to be there tonight myself.”

His friends nodded to him as he trotted to the camp entrance, noting that a few cats looked his way inquisitively, like he already had the answer of who was going. Through the tunnel and out to the border of camp, then to the left, and he reached the leader’s den quickly.

“Bluestar?” he called as he parted the lichen curtain. “Are you in here?”

His leader’s head jerked up from its position draped over her nest and she blinked hard, several times. “Who– oh.” The tension in her back relaxed and the fur there smoothed out. “Fireheart.”

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” Fireheart dipped his head in a respectful greeting. “I was just coming in to ask who all is going to the Gathering, since, well, it’s almost time to leave, and no one knows…”

“Oh.” Bluestar’s eyes narrowed distantly. “Right. Tonight.” She stood up and shook her fur free of dried moss. “Come on.”

Before Fireheart could respond, she walked past him and out of her den, leaving him to have to hurry after her. Her pace was regal, as usual, but her pawsteps seemed stiff, if only a little. Maybe her toes were numb from resting on them.

The Clan collectively looked up as they entered camp. Speckletail, who was speaking with Willowpelt, turned and took a few steps towards Bluestar.

“I’m content to stay home and see over things here, if you’d like,” she said briskly. “I don’t need many cats to hunt tonight.”

Bluestar lowered her chin and scanned the crowded clearing without responding for a long moment. Eventually, she turned to Speckletail. “Is there anyone you want to stay here?”

Speckletail shook her head.

“Then…” Bluestar’s eyes went over the Clan again. “Whitecloud and Ravenwing, you’ll be coming.” She looked at her old apprentice. “Fireheart, would you like to go?”

Fireheart nodded. “Please.”

“I’d like to, too,” Frostfur said. “It’s been ages since I’ve gone.”

“Can we go?” Brackenkit asked eagerly, sitting by his mother.

Frostfur gave him a gentle tap with her feathery tail. “When you four become apprentices.”

“Oh.” Brackenkit looked down in disappointment.

“Mousefur, Lizardtail, Teaselfoot…” Bluestar looked from the little group on her right to her left. “And Sandstorm. That will be enough.”

“Lucky us!” Teaselfoot looked at his sister in delight. “I’ve been wondering about Darkflower. Hopefully she’ll be there.”

“I doubt it.” Mousefur stood up and kicked some sand off her foot, leading the two toms to the others as they approached Bluestar. “Didn’t she say last time that she was going to try for a litter soon?”

“Oh, I forgot about that.” Teaselfoot tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, who knows, maybe her mate or someone will be there. I still need to get the rest of that story from her.”

“If it’s her mate you’ll see, I wouldn’t ask about her, as a random ThunderClan tom,” Lizardtail said dryly.

“Fair enough.”

The party followed Bluestar out with tail-waves of farewell to their Clanmates. Fireheart trotted alongside Whitestorm and Ravenwing while the others fanned out a bit and chatted among themselves. Fireheart didn’t say much, mostly because he was trying to decipher the dimness in Whitecloud’s eyes when he looked at Bluestar, who had her jaw tightly set. One catch of Whitecloud’s gaze immediately told Fireheart to not say anything or press for information. The dimness was solemn and heavy. He made a mental note to check on Whitecloud when it was appropriate.

Blessedly, the walk to the neutral grounds outside of ThunderClan’s forest was uneventful. Fourtrees welcomed them with the rest of the Clans already present and chattering, their leaders seated on their boulder and quietly speaking to each other. Bluestar went straight for the boulder while her Clanmates spread out and easily melded into the crowd, which greeted them with varying levels of excitement.

Fireheart and Ravenwing stood together, looking over the crowd. Fireheart caught sight of a familiar little ShadowClan tom sitting by a black-and-white apprentice who was unusually round for a marsh cat (that is, he didn’t look on the brink of starvation).

“Rainpath!” Fireheart called, leading Ravenwing to his friend.

The grey tabby looked over and his large eyes lit up. “Fireheart and Ravenwing! Blessings, it’s been a long time.”

“You’re telling me.” Fireheart greeted him with a headbump. “Hey, Badgerpaw. I haven’t seen you in a while either.”

Badgerpaw, looking about as timid as Ravenwing usually was, nodded shyly. “Hello.”

“How’s training going?” Ravenwing asked, coming to stand beside Fireheart. “For you and your mentor.”

The apprentice didn’t look quite as nervous to speak to the black warrior. “Rainpath says I do well.”

“He does fantastically,” Rainpath said, puffing out his chest. “A hunter and fighter, all in one. He impresses even Blackstar.”

Badgerpaw shuffled his feet bashfully.

“That’s awesome!” Fireheart beamed at the little tom. “Good for you.” To Rainpath, he added, “If I remember right, he’s related to you?”

“Indeed,” Rainpath replied. “We’re cousins.”

“Well, it’s not for a while, but I’ll be a mentor to family too.” Fireheart snorted at the surprise, swiftly followed by confusion, on both ShadowClanners’ faces. “My nephew came to live with us, and Bluestar is having me teach him when he becomes an apprentice.”

“Ah!” Rainpath brightened up. “ThunderClan is quite kind to you and your blood. Congratulations.”

Fireheart chuffed lightly. “Thank you. Sorry if I start bugging you with questions about how to train him.”

“Oh, it isn’t difficult!” Rainpath cocked his head, gesturing towards Badgerpaw. “The bond is most important. Learning to speak to each other in a way you both understand, and finding how your charge learns, that is what’s vital. Teaching the ways of a warrior is easy enough after that.”

Badgerpaw nodded and leaned sideways to bump his mentor with his cheek, which Rainpath purred to.

Fireheart’s tail curled at the sight. “I just want to do my best and help him grow into a good cat.”

“You’ll do that fine,” Ravenwing said.

“That I trust in as well.” Rainpath gave Fireheart a friendly blink. “And if he’s of your blood, I also trust he will be eager to learn.”

Fireheart opened his mouth to respond, but a call sounded out from the boulder. With that, all conversation ceased and every eye turned to the leaders. Crookedstar, RiverClan’s brown-and-white leader, stood, his short tail waving back and forth.

“A pleasant night to you all!” he said, speaking around his jaw that jutted out to the side. “As always, I hate to interrupt your chatter, but we do have news to share. I hope you’ll excuse this aside before you continue your conversations.”

His voice was bright and cheery, but Fireheart didn’t miss that his face looked more… worn. Older. His muzzle was a bit greyer, his eyes heavy and sagging just a bit.

Losing Silverstream took a lot out of him, Fireheart thought immediately, and sadly. He looks so tired.

Crookedstar, luckily, did not appear to hear Fireheart’s thoughts, because he turned to the rest of the leaders with that same cheer. “Anyone care to go fir—”

“I will,” Bluestar said. She did not have anything resembling cheer in her voice or eyes. She stood as Crookedstar sat down with no small amount of surprise. “ThunderClan has a new deputy in Speckletail. She’s stayed home tonight to watch camp.”

Murmurs of surprise and congratulations rippled through the crowd. The ThunderClan cats Fireheart could see were stiff and silent.

“Good on her!” Crookedstar tilted his head. “I’m quite sorry to hear you lost Tigercl—”

“Don’t be,” Bluestar said curtly. “Our previous deputy was executed for murder and treason.”

Dead silence. Dead and shocked. Cats looked at each other with wide eyes and mouths agape. Teaselfoot and Lizardtail lowered their heads, and Whitecloud shut his eyes tightly with a grimace. Even Rookstar stared at Bluestar, and Blackstar’s fur stuck straight up off his back.

Bluestar’s grim eyes narrowed as the silence stretched for several heartbeats. She finally looked Blackstar’s way. “That’s all the news we have. Care to speak next?”

Props to Blackstar; he recovered almost immediately and straightened up again, his back-fur smoothing out. He stood and stepped forward, Bluestar retreating, and spoke.

“ShadowClan does well in this warm winter,” he said. At the sound of his voice, the air of Fourtrees lost some of its tension. “However, our ears have caught the buzz of the cats of the Aulmir. They travel in groups now, and a scouting patrol heard them speak of some sort of trouble a kemera told them of.” His ears, wide but smaller than an average ShadowClan cat’s, slid back against his head. “As if they knew we were curious, they spoke vaguely. All we know is that they are content to not do anything about whatever this trouble is, and from their words we believe they wait for the trouble to find us all.”

Tense air again, occupied by murmurs.

“I can tell you what that trouble is,” Rookstar said, flat and calm as ever.

With a blink of surprise, Blackstar nodded respectfully to his senior and stepped back. Rookstar stood next, his eyes roaming over the crowd. Even with his stoicism, Fireheart could see Rookstar’s claws ever-so-slightly unsheathed.

He gave a soft, aged sigh. “Dogs are loose.”

Fireheart perked his ears at the hisses and growls that rippled out from those few words. He had only interacted with dogs a couple times during his early life in the Houses; small white ones, and a taller yellow one. They had been noisy and eager to get near him to sniff, but obeyed their humans into harmlessness. Were leashless dogs different, then, going by everyone’s reaction?

Rookstar answered that question immediately. “Oatwhisker was torn apart by them. There’re at least two—scents are mixed up, makes it hard to tell them apart, but the pawprints were different sizes.”

Even jolly old Crookedstar gawked at Rookstar, back half-arched and eyes wide with fear. “Please tell me you have an idea of where they are.”

Rookstar shook his head. “They move fast. One day at the Barn, next one in the neutral grounds.”

Another, fiercer ripple of hissed terror and growled hatred. Fireheart wilted into a slight huddle as cats began looking around themselves, like they were expecting to find the dogs in the crowd. Rainpath reached out a paw and pulled Badgerpaw closer to his side, ratty tail bristling as well as it could.

“Then…” Blackstar lowly cleared his throat. “It’s safe to say we are all to be vigilant and wary, should these dogs come to visit our borders.”

Rookstar lowered his chin in a WindClan nod.

Fireheart peeked at Ravenwing. He was trembling.

“By the Three…” Crookedstar shook his head, that worn weariness more severe on his face. “A right lovely night this is.”

“You have a chance to cheer us up,” said Rookstar.

Crookedstar’s whiskers twitched mirthlessly. “Aside from us eating well, I have nothing to say.”

No one responded. The pause would have been awkward, were the air not still dripping cold fright and worry.

Rookstar was the one to break the silence. “We’ve shared our news. Continue your conversations.”

Uneasily and delayed, the crowd gradually turned to each other and spoke again. The topics, as Fireheart listened in, were pretty much all the same: what was to be done about the dogs and where they would go next. To his far-off left, Sandstorm chewed air stressfully, her claws flexing.

“This is no good,” Ravenwing muttered, head down. “We don’t need dogs here.”

Fireheart looked to his friend. “Is it really that bad? Won’t they go away?”

“If they’ve already murdered someone, I doubt it.” Ravenwing shivered. “They don’t hunt like us—they just… kill. For fun. I’ve heard the stories.”

“Ah—” Rainpath looked up. “Perhaps we will be alright. They must have a human they obey. It can call them off.”

Ravenwing didn’t meet his eyes, his voice so low Fireheart almost missed it. “I hope so.”

He did not sound remotely optimistic. 

[accirax]

DRDT Secret Swap AU: For Better and Worse

The following is an ask sent to me that, while numerically present in my inbox, is invisible and inaccessible, and thus, I was only able to read it through its corresponding notification email. Tumblr be a functional website challenge; level impossible.

What a great question! Up to this point, I’ve been more of an AU enjoyer than an AU creator (other than the BNHA thing), so this will be an exciting foray into the realm of possibility! The task of creating both the best and worst outcome also provides a lot to think about when it comes to characterization. I’m excited to get talking about this! But first, some rules.

(And the usual CW for DRDT spoilers, as well as mentions of murder, suicide, self harm, eating disorders, and implied homo/transphobia. You know, standard business for DRDT secret discussion.)

To keep things simple, I’m going to be assuming that the true owners of the secrets are as follows:

While I’m by no means asserting that this interpretation of whose secret is whose is 100% accurate, it’s what I see widely agreed upon by the fandom, and what I currently believe myself. Having to factor in a bunch of different permutations of secret distribution seemed terribly complicated, so I decided to avoid it. If anybody disagrees with where I’ve placed any of the secrets, please just consider it as another facet of the alternate universe.

Additionally, I’ve kept up the “rule” that no one is allowed to receive their own secret. I’m also assuming that everything is the same up until when MonoTV hands out the motives, such that Xander and Min are still dead. However, a different distribution of secrets could have changed the details of the Chapter 2 murder, so I kinda have to speak about it in hypotheticals. I was just talking about how I didn’t want to make things needlessly complicated, so I’m not throwing in a bunch of speculation about how the secrets may have factored into the AU killer’s motives when I can’t even say for certain who the canonical killer was.

I also decided to interpret the prompt as “what’s the best/worst overall shuffle” as opposed to “who is the best/worst recipient for each individual secret.” The latter seemed like it might repeat characters too many times, and “the ch2 secrets [getting] swapped in a different way” implied to me that each character was still limited to receiving one secret. Hopefully that’s what you were going for with your ask!

Okay, I think that’s it. Let’s get started with the best case scenario, given that I think that’ll be easier. I’ll go through the characters’ secrets in the order they’re listed in on the board, so that it’ll hopefully be easier to follow along.

The Good Timeline

Eden receives Levi’s secret

If someone was going to have remorse for the remorseless killer, I think it would be Eden. Even if the concept of someone killing in cold blood might frighten Eden, the pair is already off to a good start with the conversation they shared at the beginning of Chapter 2. Eden knows a bit more about Levi’s family situation (which may have been the cause of his callous killing) and how he is trying to be a good person, even if he feels like he might be failing. Compared to others in the cast, I feel like Eden might be more willing to hear Levi out.

Specifically, we know from canon that (under David’s encouragement, at least) Eden planned to share her secret– which was a pretty severe one already– in a closed environment with just her and the secret’s owner. Of course, we haven’t yet seen from canon how Levi would react to getting assigned this secret, so it’s possible he could flip out in a similar manner to how Arturo did when Eden confronted him. However, I think there’s a good chance that he would be more resigned or neutral, which might also give Eden hope that he isn’t a lost cause… again, under the assumption that he isn't. This secret does have a chance of backfiring, but I’m making the choice to have faith in Levi– much like I think Eden would if she saw his secret!

Nico receives David’s secret

Now this is kind of an unconventional one, but, hear me out.

I don’t know if there really is a “good option” for David’s secret in the sense that I think anyone who would choose to reveal the information to the group would be the type to do so in an accusatory, non-constructive way. Similarly, a lot of people who wouldn’t reveal the secret might face problems if it caused them to quietly simmer in their distrust. That suppression of emotions could lead to a big blow up in the future.

Because of that, you might be wondering why I didn’t assign this secret to one of my throwaway slots– namely, Xander, Min, or Rose. Well, it’s because I also wanted to consider what would happen if, even in this good universe, some number of students still needed to attend a Class Trial where the secrets are unknown. Certain secrets, if left unassigned, would lead to paranoia and distrust amongst the students. And, by throwing this secret away, this secret could basically never be confirmed as David’s other than by process of elimination or (highly unlikely) self-assignment. Therefore, all of the students would have to assume that anyone whose secret isn't known has a decent chance of believing that everyone exists to be manipulated. In my opinion, that would make productively discussing a murder really difficult.

So, I decided that the best course of action would be to give this secret to the person who would make the smallest deal out of it, and that turned out to be Nico. Nico already believes that socially interacting with other humans is a complicated and confusing process, the rules of which force you into expressing yourself in a specific, “acceptable” way. Basically, I think that Nico might already see a lot of conversation as manipulation, and themselves as the manipulee. The secret says that David is really good at interpreting those rules and acing the bullet points of “acceptable” conversation? No shit, he’s the Ultimate Inspirational Speaker.

I’m not trying to say that Nico is “dumb” enough to not realize that this secret is generally threatening, but I think that, if word of it were to come out, Nico would present it in a subdued enough manner that it wouldn’t make things worse than they need to be.

Hu receives Ace’s secret

Oh boy, this is a dangerous choice given Ace and Hu’s tumultuous relationship. Although, to be fair, I don’t remember exactly how established that rivalry was prior to the distribution of the canonical secrets. To the extent that they didn’t already hate each other to the point of no return, I chose this one because I think that Hu having the context of Ace’s secret might actually help to mend their relationship.

As I said up top, this AU is predicated on Hu having the “hopeless child” secret. Thus, in this AU, we can say for certain that Hu has a prior history of self harm/self destructive tendencies. If hopeless child Hu does turn out to be canon, it would support the theory that part of the reason why Hu won’t share the “harm yourself for fun” secret is because she knows that mental health is a sensitive subject, and doesn’t want to force someone to open up about it. Given that eating disorders are a form of self harm, we can rest assured that this isn’t a secret Hu would share, no matter how much David suggests that she does.

Given Hu’s history, she might be one of the people in this cast who could best understand Ace’s plight. With this additional context, his quest for power over something in his life might feel more sympathetic, and Hu might be able to muster more concern for him. And, I’m not gonna lie, part of this assignment was granted in the slim hope that the Ultimate Mom Friend Hu would be able to make a big grandma-style meal for Ace to enjoy. They could be an improbably wholesome duo if not for… The Circumstances.

Those circumstances won’t fade anytime soon in canon, but exploring hypotheticals like this are the whole reason why AUs exist!

J receives Eden’s secret

Compared to everyone else, Eden’s secret is a pretty nonthreatening one that, especially among this pretty queer cast, shouldn’t raise a whole lot of issues. The biggest problem I can see arising from it is if someone decided to out Eden, sort of like what happened to Nico. Therefore, I wanted to give Eden’s secret to someone who would be unlikely to share it without Eden giving the okay. And, J seemed to fit that description pretty well.

Obviously, some of J’s canon behavior was spurred on by the fact that Arturo non-consensually revealed her secret (which, spoilers, will not be happening in the blessed half of this AU). But, given J’s preference for privacy, I don’t think J would jump to sharing even a “harmless” secret. We directly saw that J only revealed Charles’ secret once he gave express permission for her to do so, which is what I would ideally want for Eden. Eden’s secret being given to a girl who would presumably be cool with her lesbianism is an added bonus to assuage her fears that (straight) girls who know she’s gay wouldn’t want to be her friend.

Unless, of course, J is also a girlkisser… then maybe the motive secrets could turn into a meet-cute…….. (/j)

Rose receives J’s secret

Finally, our first throwaway slot. After what J’s been through, I think she deserves to have her secret not be a topic of discussion at all– or at least not until all of them are listed out on the board.

There is also some logic behind which secret I gave to Rose as opposed to Xander or Min. We didn’t really see this in canon, but if Whit had let his secret go unclaimed, I could see some people being mad at Rose for inadvertently throwing away valuable information. This sentiment would only increase if Rose’s secret was something more relevant to the case at hand. Like, could you imagine how mad Teruko would have been if Rose had received the “murderer without remorse” secret? They could have had the answer to which person among them was a murderer without remorse, but Rose just carelessly threw it away because she was worried about people’s privacy?!

Therefore, I think the best case scenario for Rose is to receive one of the low-stakes secrets. In the case of J’s secret, it’s possible that someone like Arturo would be able to figure out that it was J’s secret without any confirmation from Rose as long as he had the information that someone in the cast was Mariabella’s daughter. No harm, no foul if Rose throws out the secret only for it to be instantly solvable anyway.

By giving J’s secret to Rose, J gets the blessing of privacy for as long as the secrets don’t become public knowledge, but Rose also doesn’t garner any backlash if they do, for one reason or another.

“Xander” receives Arei’s secret

Just to clarify, there isn’t any meaning behind which secret Xander vs Min got; they both just mean that the secret is un-confirmable.

Arei’s secret is a good one to bury because of how easily it can be misinterpreted. From the phrasing of the secret, nobody would know that Arei’s sisters abused her unless Arei told them herself, and without that context, Arei appears quite villainous. Hell, some people believe that learning of this secret was a reason why Levi would have chosen to kill Arei! If this information about Arei just isn’t out there to be known, then nobody could make that fatal oversight.

Also, Arei already knew what the vague contents of her secret would be, presumably without having seen the actual text. In Ace’s flashback, she quotes David’s secret from memory (because she read it), but when she unveils her own secret, she throws in the detail about reform school which isn’t at all present in the secret’s text. I think it was really important for Arei’s development that she had the agency to reveal her secret at her own pace. By making her secret inaccessible, it removes the possibility that someone else would reveal it before she’s emotionally ready.

Arturo receives Min’s secret

Look at me, pairing Arturo and Min together yet again. What is it about these two that causes me to keep coupling them…? Well, at least this time, they’re paired up because they, like, never talk in canon.

Arturo has proven himself to be a problem when it comes to revealing secrets. Even if he hadn’t been handed Miss Rosales’ dirty laundry, I would believe that he would air out the secrets of whichever nobody he learned about simply due to disrespect. Therefore, I think that giving Arturo a secret that really doesn’t matter is the best course of action. Whether he reveals it on the day the motives were distributed or the day of the Class Trial, most people probably wouldn’t make much of a fuss about an already-dead student’s secret, least of all Arturo. If he doesn’t care about what Min was up to, he wouldn’t stir up any drama by revealing or concealing information.

David receives Xander’s secret

Not gonna lie, I mostly gave this one to David as a form of damage control. I don’t know what he’s going to do with the secret he did canonically receive in the future– whether it belongs to Teruko or someone else, or whether he’s dying immediately or in it for the long haul– but giving David the silver bullet of “the killing game is all your fault” seems like way too much power to hand over. With a dead student’s secret, he doesn’t gain much by telling the truth or have much of a basis to execute a good lie.

The elephant in the room, of course, is that David received Xander’s secret, which is all about the tragically heroic backstory that probably led him to find comfort in David’s speeches in the first place. (And it does paint Xander in a decently positive light– “it wasn’t your fault” erases the possibility that Xander killed his family or whatever.) I imagine that, had David received this secret on the first day, basically a little buffering symbol would appear over his head and he would have to go lie down and stare at the piece of paper for a few hours. Or days.

By distracting David, we can hopefully avoid any of the decidedly negative side effects that him attempting to deduce and reveal everyone else’s secrets caused. While everyone else is growing as a person and whatnot, David can just be… looping the Literature Girl Insane MV in his head, or something. Is that really good for him? Probably not, but these are the heights you can reach when you set out to cause problems.

Arei receives Whit’s secret

Arei already didn’t reveal whose secret she had to anyone, as far as we know. So, if she had the secret belonging to Whit, arguably her closest friend at the start of Chapter 2, I really don’t think she would say anything. That’s good for Whit, because, similar to what I said about Arei herself, I think it’s better for him to have the ability to come forth with his secret when the time is right. Anything else and it might shake up his persona too suddenly and send him fight or flight mode.

I think the biggest potential flaw here is that we don’t know how Arei felt about her mom. Arei is willing to go confront other people about their secrets, so if Arei either really loved or really hated her mom, maybe that would lead her to go confront Whit about what his secret meant. And then, that could lead into him deflecting and looking shady.

That’s not really a huge liability to me, though, so I think this one will be fine.

Veronika receives Charles’ secret

Veronika is a weird case, because whether or not she reveals a secret seems to be based solely on entertainment value. In canon, we’ve seen that she hasn’t yet revealed the “hopeless child” secret because, for whatever reasons, she thinks that’ll make the killing game more interesting. But presumably, if she thought that revealing someone’s secret would make the game more interesting instead, she would have done that.

Because Charles doesn’t remember his brother’s death himself, I don’t think Veronika would see much value in holding it over his head, saving it for a dramatic reaction down the road, or whatever the hell she was trying to accomplish by not revealing Hu’s secret. Therefore, I think Veronika would find it most entertaining to see Charles’ reaction to learning about his amnesia, and tell him pretty quickly.

On the surface, that seems bad. However, I actually think that Charles learning about his secret is… for the best? If you assume that Charles is going to have to learn about this factoid someday, it’s probably better for him if he does it before a Class Trial is called, so that he can be in a more stable mental state. It’s also better for him to do it while he has Whit there to support him, and who knows what could happen between those two in future chapters? Much like Arturo’s assignment, we defuse Veronika’s chaotic power with this one, with the added benefit of potentially helping Charles on his journey to self-understanding.

Levi receives Arturo’s secret

Arturo’s secret was a hard one, because I think most people would react to it pretty negatively, especially with the confirmation that it belongs to Arturo of all people from the start. You could leave it with Eden as someone who seemingly didn’t judge, but given how poorly that situation played out in canon, it felt wrong to leave it in her hands.

Therefore, I gave it to someone who could potentially relate: Levi. He, too, came from a tense family background which he had to leave, and as such, he might better be able to put himself in Arturo’s shoes. While it is possible that Levi could resent Arturo for “ruining” a “good(?)” relationship with his sister (given how Levi struggled to coexist with his siblings), I don’t think it would irk Levi so much that he’d take drastic action against Arturo.

At the very least, we saw that Levi didn’t spill the beans about Arei’s similarly anti-sister secret. By that logic, he probably wouldn’t tell anyone about it, possibly including Arturo. In that case, we avoid Arturo blowing up on whoever was unlucky enough to have to break the news. And, even if Levi did tell Arturo, and Arturo decided to attack, I trust that even an injured Levi could defend himself far better than Eden could.

Ace receives Veronika’s secret

I just don’t think anything particularly bad would happen here. When I imagine Ace receiving this secret, I kinda just think of him going, “what the fuck?!”, and then putting the paper away. As someone who cares immensely about his own safety and image, I can definitely see this secret confusing Ace, but I don’t think to a point where it would really mess him up. It might make him think that Veronika is dangerous and weird, but… well, he already thought that.

Speaking of, especially with this information, Ace is too afraid of Veronika to try to bully her in the same way that he did with Nico. I don’t see any reason why Ace would benefit from revealing this secret, so it would likely remain hidden, which is probably for the best. Honestly, I don’t know if Veronika would care if this secret of hers got out, given that the main reason why people think this is hers is because of the similar sentiments that she already shared with Teruko in a public location. But, regardless, it takes away any ammo Ace might have by making his only target someone who he’s too afraid to take shots at.

Teruko receives Hu’s secret

Completing our little triad of sadness, this is the third instance of me giving a secret involving self harm to someone else who engages in self destructive practices– first Hu with Ace, then Ace with Veronika, and now Teruko with Hu. It obviously sucks that there are so many people in this cast who are struggling with this same issue, but I think it works out well to have them overlap. They’re probably the ones who best grasp the severity of each other’s problems, so they understand the gravity of sharing the information and would take steps to avoid doing that unnecessarily.

But, yeah, there wasn’t much of a reason beyond that for me to assign Teruko here. As a further extrapolation of the above point, though, if Teruko decided to ask Hu about her secret in the same way that she did with Rose, maybe Teruko could provide Hu some comfort about the situation and they could become friends.

Although, thinking about it more, that would actually have a decent chance of backfiring, as Hu might not appreciate having to take on the role of the helped as opposed to the helper, and Teruko might freak out if she felt herself letting her walls down around Hu. But that’s only if Teruko chose to talk to her about it, which is dubious in the first place. I don’t think Teruko would intentionally use this as any sort of weapon against Hu, which is the main criteria I was looking for.

Charles receives Rose’s secret

More unproblematic people being unproblematic. I don’t know if anything weird would happen as Charles’ upper-class upbringing came into contact with Rose’s cash-strapped past, but if it did, it would probably be a positive development for Charles. Y’know, like “realizing that it’s not only wealthy academics who can have talent” or “further learning to recognize his privilege and have sympathy for other people.” Much like what Charles canonically did with Eden’s secret, this one would probably go under the public radar until a Class Trial occurred, at which point Charles would reveal it. And, hey, that’s kind of like Rose’s secret’s canonical fate as well.

I also don’t think that we’d run into any trouble with Teruko possibly learning this one from the note that Charles passed her either, because… again, this was Teruko’s canonical secret, and nothing bad happened. Sometimes no reaction is the sweetest reaction of all.

Whit receives Nico’s secret

Yup, like you implied, Whit receiving Nico’s secret would probably be one of the best options for them. It’s not too much of a surprise. Whit seems to be a pretty securely out bi guy, so he would obviously support of Nico’s identity, and possibly even be someone Nico could look up to for being confident in who they are. On top of that, Whit greatly values privacy, and thus wouldn’t go around immediately shouting, “wow, Nico, it’s so awesome that you’re nonbinary!” He’d only do that if Nico wanted him to, after asking them first. I’m not even sure if Whit would contact Nico about it directly, but even if he didn’t, I feel like Whit would try to find ways to subtly encourage Nico so that they would feel safe coming out themselves. At least, that’s what my bias is telling me.

As a side note, I’m still playing with the rule that Arei sees whatever Whit’s secret is over his shoulder, which is actually what gave Nico’s secret the nod here over Eden’s. We saw that Ace, along with some others, were confused about what exactly the text of Nico’s secret meant. Meanwhile, if attached to Eden, her secret is pretty explicitly about her being sexually attracted to women, and therefore homosexual. I’m not at all calling Arei homophobic (in fact, the concept of doing so makes me very uncomfortable, so please don’t joke about it), but given that the two had been fighting beforehand, it’s possible that Arei would have tried to use the content of Eden’s secret against her somehow (but again, not in a homophobic way).

At the very least, Arei would know something about Eden that Eden might not want her to know, which is bad. I’m not sure if Arei would inherently understand Nico’s secret enough to gain anything of use from it, while Whit and his intuition would definitely understand what’s going on.

“Min” receives Teruko’s secret

Here we go; our other throwaway secret! Part of the appeal of leaving this one in the dark is because… well, we don’t know if it’s true. While the secret doesn’t explicitly state that its owner is the mastermind of the killing game, it’s definitely designed to make you think that’s the case. And, uh, I don’t know if Teruko is the mastermind or not. I recently wrote 1000 words about it, which is equal to one picture.

So, let’s explore both avenues. If Teruko isn’t the mastermind, then sharing this secret around is obviously bad. It would cause people to unwarrantedly distrust Teruko, and possibly even cause Teruko to distrust herself. That could impede the progress of Class Trials, if people don’t trust Teruko’s reasoning anymore, and the progress of deducing the actual mastermind. Therefore, by taking this secret out of circulation, we stop the misinformation from spreading.

Alternatively, if Teruko is the (evil) mastermind, then… aren’t I doing a disservice by not allowing the students to encounter this information? Well, yes, and no. I am preventing them from accessing the deus ex machina of David just outright saying, “oh, and by the way, Teruko is the mastermind!”; that much is true. But, by leaving that information out… aren’t I just leaving them in the same position that most killing game casts are in? They know that one of them is the mastermind, they just don’t know who. And, actually, they have a leg up on the other casts because the mastermind’s identity would still be a logically deducible fact that they could basically confirm if they all worked together. I don’t think it’s too much of a blow to the innocent students if we leave this one out, is what I’m saying.

So, that’s the good ending! A quick graphic to show how everything shook out:

(I swear, I didn’t mean to make it look like Whit was laughing at Nico’s identity. I just reused the sprites from my archetype analysis because I was too lazy to go get new ones…)

Now, on to the bad ending. This one was a lot harder to assign. Given that these secrets were meant to sow discord, there are only so many ways that things can play out well. There are lots of ways that things can play out poorly.

But, hopefully I’ve found the aggregate worst answer! Given that this is, you know… the one where things go horribly wrong, things may get pretty dark in this section, so proceed with caution. Nobody’s going to die or anything like that, but know that your faves may not be depicted in the most positive light in this section. Grab something comforting and put on some happy music, or lean hard into the angst, ‘cause we’re about to get started.

The Bad Timeline

Ace receives Levi’s secret

Look. I 100% agree that the whole Ace/Nico situation is a Major Yikes Situation /pos. However, I’m hopeful (in the sense of trying to craft the worst possible outcome) that we could still get a More or Less Yikes Situation even without the pair obtaining each others’ secrets.

Although Ace revealing that he was in possession of Nico’s secret closely preceded Nico’s death threat, that wasn’t actually what specifically led Nico to intimidate Ace. It was Ace’s comment that Nico was such a weakling that they could only solve their problems by getting people like David to help them, as well as the culmination of several days of Ace’s torment beginning in Chapter 1, which led them to do it. What I’m saying is, Ace and Nico were already rivals before the secrets even came out, so even without the direct connection to one another via the motive, it’s possible the high tensions would still cause similar events to unfold.

All that preamble hopefully helps to justify my choice to put Ace on Levi’s secret, because, my god, you can open a whole other can of worms with this one. Ace gaining the knowledge that Levi is a killer without remorse the day after Levi threatened to kill him would freak Ace out like nothing else. Being as loud as he is, I would think that Ace wouldn’t be able to stop himself from sharing this one with the class, starting a conflict right from the start.

While do I think the other students would believe Ace in the end– especially if he showed them the paper on which Levi’s name was printed– I also think that some people might doubt Ace’s words at first, thinking he’s overexaggerating as usual. However, that moment of being Boy Who Cried Wolf-ed by everyone else would also really fuck with Ace. He’s literally right, and has the paperwork to prove it, and yet people are still disinclined to believe him because they see him as a fool. It would draw an even deeper wedge between Ace and his classmates than we saw in canon.

Tying back around to the beginning, I think that this extra layer of powerlessness would just make Ace even more inclined to seek out a feeling of power elsewhere. So, I’m thinking that would still result in Ace bullying Nico, and, assuming he still keeps it up for long enough and calls Nico a weakling, we might be able to loop back around to Nico’s death threat anyway. Major Yikes Situation not averted!

Veronika receives David’s secret

Here’s a chaotic choice. Given how open-ended and accusatory David’s secret is, I definitely think it’s one that Veronika would have chosen not to reveal. However, just because she doesn’t want to reveal it doesn’t mean that the information won’t get out… in a way.

We’ve seen time and time again that Veronika is fascinated with morally questionable people, first with Arturo and later David himself once she knew about his secret. Therefore, if she knew about David’s secret from the start, I don’t think she would be able to stop herself from following him around and making some clever comments here and there. Can you imagine how concerning it would be to watch David try to give hope speeches and guide people while Veronika is peering over his shoulder and grinning at him, refusing to elaborate?

It would definitely be worrying, but I don’t think it would fully stop everyone from listening to him– but in this case, that’s a good thing! David’s tactics wound up causing more harm than good, so it was important for me to give his secret to someone who wouldn’t call him out immediately and stop him from enacting these bad policies. Veronika is a great choice for allowing that to happen, but also causing a lot of stress and doubt speculating as to what exactly Veronika could know about David that would make her act this way. Honestly, it might be the worst for David himself…

Levi receives Ace’s secret

This one isn’t that terrible on its own, but in the context of Ace also having Levi’s secret, I think it gets pretty hairy. I can’t really see any scenario where Levi knowing Ace’s greatest secret goes over well for them. If Ace blows up at Levi right out the gate, there’s a definite possibility that Levi can’t keep his cool and winds up firing off Ace’s secret in front of everyone else as retaliation. Betraying Ace’s trust like that (even if Ace was the one to mouth off first) would make their relationship even more unsalvageable.

Even if Levi did manage to keep his mouth shut, knowing Ace’s secret would just generally make it harder for Levi to talk to Ace when explaining himself or trying to make amends. Like I discussed with Hu in the good timeline, there’s a lot you can learn about Ace in the contents of his secret and the way it’s phrased. I feel like Levi would be able to pick up on some of that knowledge, but he would then find it even harder to interact with Ace without accidentally spilling the beans on some of that newfound understanding. This secret shuffle would make their relationship basically irreparable in my opinion, and the increased frustrations from both boys might make one of their tempers flare and lead them to do something inadvisable.

“Xander” receives Eden’s secret

First of all, giving “Xander” this one means there’s one less problematic person who could draw a relatively harmless secret, which is a pro in this scenario. Leaving this secret unconfirmed could also cause problems in a Class Trial. Given that this secret doesn’t include murder, blackmail, manipulation, etc, it’s a pretty nice secret to claim for yourself, even if it can basically only be claimed by one of the girls. This means that, even if Eden tried to be truthful about her secret, people might believe that she’s lying.

Furthermore, the DRDT cast seems to be a pretty queer group of people overall. 6/15 of the non-Edens are confirmed LGBTQ+ themselves (even if not all of them are out), and everyone has treated Nico and Whit’s identities with respect since learning about them. Canonically, I would say that Eden has nothing to worry about with regards to the other girls treating her differently for being a lesbian.

So, by making Eden’s secret far less accessible, it becomes less likely that she’ll ever get that moment of recognition and affirmation. Instead, as Eden’s secret remains hidden and irrelevant, it becomes easier for her to stick to what she knows is safe. An accepting environment was right there in front of her, but with the convenience of periphery, she might not ever see it.

Arturo receives J’s secret

Yeah, I agree with you on this one– J truly did roll a crit fail. I did consider giving J’s secret to someone else, as long as they would definitely publicly spill the beans, if it meant that Arturo could learn the content of J’s secret while receiving an additional bad secret as well. However, I couldn’t think of anyone who would be so guaranteed to tell everyone about J’s secret that I could be confident Arturo would hear of it, nor could I think of any particularly catastrophic secrets I’d rather give to Arturo. So, this one stays. J really is living in the worst timeline already– like if you cry every time.

Hu receives Arei’s secret

Hu was a tough nut to crack, because I think the ideal bad situation for her is that she gets a secret that’s problematic enough that it would cause major issues if news broke, but not so problematic that she wouldn’t be willing to share it as a part of David’s “let’s tell each other about our secrets” plan. Operating under the logic that the mention of self harm was the reason why she wasn’t willing to share the secret she got in canon, 3/15 options immediately disappear. More options vanish when you start eliminating not-super-problematic secrets like Xander's family, Charles’ brother, or Rose’s debt.

After some consideration, I landed on Arei’s being the best balance of thorny and not. It’s a secret that discusses a serious crime without incorporating murder, and there’s lots of room for public interpretation that could cause things to go really poorly for Arei if folks jump to conclusions. Given that Hu already didn’t super like Arei (I’m basing this off of her chastising Arei for bullying Eden), I could totally see her being willing to share this secret publicly in order to help everyone see that Arei is someone not to be trusted.

Making Arei’s secret publicly aired also removes the very important aspect of Arei’s agency that I wrote on in the good section. If Hu is sharing this secret, it’s probably pretty early in the chapter, which means that Arei might not be prepared whenever the news drops. The context of the secret sharing doesn’t involve Eden at all, so Arei might have a harder time putting two and two together about why she acts the way she does and how she wants to change. Not to mention, if Hu shares the secret in a way that directly agrees with David’s scheme, it automatically pits David against Arei, which means that he can’t offer her any help (to the extent that what he said helped her canonically). It’s just bad all around. But that’s why I’ve come to feel pretty confident in this choice.

Rose receives Min’s secret

Following up on Rose’s last entry, this is not one of the secrets that the rest of the students could either easily deduce or ignore. It would be very easy to assume that the owner of the poison secret was a murderer– possibly a mass murderer, and even one who didn't regret what they did. Even if poison wasn’t used in the Chapter 2 murder, people might suspect this person of being the killer, and/or it could throw suspicion on Charles as the only one (who we know of) who has a poisonous custom weapon.

Now, obviously, this secret did not cause much of a scene in the canonical Chapter 2 trial, but I think at least part of that is because it was Xander’s. Everyone knows that the person who has that secret can only be determined by process of elimination no matter who they ask. The same would be true if it were the secret Rose got, but people might grow upset that Rose threw away such a valuable piece of evidence. And, with Min incapable of claiming her secret, it might appear even more that someone was trying to hide something when nobody spoke up to claim it. It’s not much, but Rose made it difficult to come up with something bad.

Teruko receives Xander’s secret

Funnily enough, the logic behind me giving Xander’s secret to Teruko is quite similar to the logic behind me giving it to David. Much like how David would be taken out of commission by reading this secret, I think that Teruko would act the same– it would just be worse for her and the group as a whole.

Like I said for David, Xander’s secret paints him out as a tragic hero. He loved his family to pieces, and regrets their passing so much that he wishes he could have died with them. Even though it was textually not his fault, Xander still beats himself up every day for not being around to do the right thing and save people when it counted. …What does it mean that the guy with this secret was the one who felt he had to kill Teruko for the greater good?!

Reading Xander’s secret would only pull Teruko deeper into anger, self-hatred, and confusion. She was already pretty off kilter in this Chapter from trying to ignore her mixed emotions regarding Xander, and I think that having to relive her trauma and his betrayal any time someone brought up the mere concept of secrets would basically take her out of commission. I mean, check out how many times I was able to say the word secret in these three paragraphs alone. I don’t imagine Teruko would be able to fare much better in the hellish environment of this terrible swap, which might lead her to hole up in her room all day and grow increasingly bored and bitter.

Now, I’m not saying that Teruko needed to be up and at ‘em in the daily life because her running around and pressing knives to people’s throats was just so helpful. But at least, unlike David, she wasn’t actively making the situation worse. Her presence may have even made potential friends like Eden, Charles, or Rose feel better. At the very least, Teruko learned some key social context in the Chapter 2 daily life prior to the Trial, so removing Teruko from those interactions would make it much harder for her to fully grasp what was going on should she be forced to solve a murder once again.

Charles receives Whit’s secret

I agree with you here as well– Charles acquiring Whit’s secret is probably the worst case scenario for Whit. As one of two people who actually heard Whit talk about his mom in Chapter 1, Charles is one of the only people who would know that Whit doesn’t just “omit that truth” by not talking about his mom, he actively talks about her like she is alive. This would raise a very big question for Charles at a crucial point in their friendship. Charles has just come to start trusting this guy, so what do you mean he was lying about something so odd…?

There’s a chance that the reveal of this concealment of the truth would cause Charles to determine that he couldn’t trust Whit anymore, and it would drive them apart. But, I think that’s pretty unlikely. More likely is the option where Charles (who’s in a fragile state from his meltdown yesterday and only JUST started learning how to be a good friend) tries to question Whit about it, only for Whit to panic. I don’t really think that Whit would try to keep the ruse going, seeing as Charles literally has the answer right in front of him, but he still might be full of deflections, or try to avoid the subject with jokes. (“Huh? No, I totally said that my mom passed away a few years ago! You must’ve just not heard me– did you fling some detergent into your ears with that laundry machine?”)

I’m not sure if this distribution of secrets would fully split them up, but it would definitely cause a rift in their conversation and bonding that might stop Charles and Whit from growing as close as they did. And, all this isn’t even taking into account that–

Whit receives Charles’ secret

Did you ever notice that Whit and Charles’ secrets are both about a hidden dead relative? I didn’t put two and two together until now, but boy does it work out poorly for purposes of this AU.

Much like Levi with Ace’s secret, I don’t think this is an inherently bad draw for Whit, but it kinda sucks in this context. Whit gets placed into a really weird trolley problem: do you tell and comfort Charles about his dead brother when it’ll definitely segue into discussions of your own dead mom, or do you keep it hidden, not helping Charles and leaving yourself open to the possibility of him feeling betrayed later that you kept this secret from him? It’s these kinds of questions that Whit would be forced to ask himself in the moment that Charles first confronts him, and the time needed to process would only throw him off his game and make him appear more suspicious to Charles.

To be fair, a lot of this does depend on how deep in the lie Whit is. Is he usually pretty quick to admit that his mom is dead to anyone who digs deeper into the issue, or has he been lying about his mom’s status to everyone, his father included? If it’s more like the former, then maybe the two of them could actually come to bond over the tragedy of losing someone you care about. But, if it’s more like the latter, then this distribution of secrets could get in the way of one of the (seemingly) most stable and healthy relationships in the killing game.

Arei receives Arturo’s secret

At first, I actually considered giving Arturo’s secret to Arei in the good universe, because I thought that Arei could understand having complicated relationships with your sisters. But then I remembered something critically important. Arei herself is the younger sister. She wouldn’t relate to Arturo; she would relate to Felicity. And then, all hell would break loose.

Arei knows what it’s like to be a younger sister who, even if she never considered it herself, had other people try to pressure her into committing suicide. So, to have a younger sister lucky enough to actually have a big brother she cared about, only for him to leave her alone and cause her death? Arei would be furious. She would absolutely call him out for it immediately, and use all of the bullying tactics she learned to make his life a living hell.

Despite all that I wrote about what Hu would do with Arei’s secret, I don’t actually know if Hu would be more or less likely to share Arei’s secret if Arei was acting this way. Would Hu take it upon herself to join in shaming Arturo for his actions, or feel that Arei was being a hypocrite and want to share Arei’s own truth? Either way, with both of these secrets, I think that the option of Arei’s character growing at all (or becoming friends with Eden) any time soon is pretty much dead.

And then there’s Arturo himself. While we’ve seen that Arturo does genuinely seem remorseful and haunted by Felicity’s death, I doubt Arei would know or care. I also totally think that J would join Arei in absolutely demolishing the man. Having Arei’s offense be backed by the Julia Rosales might just break him. Whether it would be in a victim way or a killer way I’m not sure, but it would definitely be bad for funni beauty standards man. The good news is that it might stop Arei from dying…? Unless Arturo just decided to kill her. There really isn’t a lot of good news.

David receives Veronika’s secret

Alright, back to David and Veronika. This is the third time I’ve had two people just swap their secrets, I guess? And, it’s kinda for the same reasons again. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

Since we’ve been through a lot since we last discussed this pair, let’s get a quick recap: Veronika knows that David is a manipulative bastard, but won’t tell anyone that yet because she thinks it’ll be more interesting if she keeps her mouth shut. Thus, everyone is kind of wary of David, and David is definitely wary of Veronika, but not so much that it stops David from doing his information-seeking “let’s all share our secrets” plan.

I think that learning this about Veronika would make David pretty confused, very concerned, and extra conscious of Veronika in a way that would be hard to conceal. He could probably guess from the way Veronika was acting that she had some kind of dirt on him, and therefore conclude that, if he ever tried to share her secret, she might just fire back at him. David does not want that. So, the two of them remain at an uneasy stalemate that would make everyone else increasingly troubled.

Furthermore, I think that Veronika’s secret is a good balance of an unexpected yet potentially relevant piece of information about a living student that David would want to seek more of, while also not being so grim that it would appeal to whatever morals David may have. (Don’t get me wrong, Veronika’s secret is very worrying and tragic, but at least the inclusion of “for fun” makes it less grim than Arturo’s or Hu’s, to me.) David would be inclined to continue on his quest of acquiring the most knowledge-as-power as possible, and Veronika would be thrilled to watch! Both of them would just be giving off… really weird vibes about it.

Nico receives Hu’s secret

(extra suicide TW just in case)

If I say anything offensive or incorrect in this section, I deeply apologize. I don’t mean to portray either of these characters, their issues, or people who relate to them or their issues in a bad light, and I definitely don’t mean to demonize mentally ill people. The reasoning behind why I think it would be bad for Nico to get Hu’s secret is complicated, and may be based on uninformed thoughts or unfounded projections. However, based on what I do “know,” I think it makes sense, so I’ll try to explain myself as best I can.

Basically, I think that receiving Hu’s secret would be bad for Nico because it might make Nico less likely to speak up for themselves when Hu talks over them. If I were Nico, I might be worried about reacting too strongly to what Hu is doing, and accidentally sending her back into the hopeless state of her childhood. Just interacting with Hu in general might lead someone (like David) to start questioning Nico about the secret they received, and cause the information to accidentally leak out. It would make Nico saying anything on how Hu was acting difficult.

Again, I am not trying to villainize Hu, or mandate that you have to walk on eggshells around suicidal people because they’re loose cannons or whatever. I just think that, especially for someone as uncomfortable with socialization with Nico, navigating the sensitive subject of past suicide attempts in this incredibly hostile bad AU environment might prevent them from speaking up for themselves when they’re feeling belittled. And, that would be bad for their personal development.

I wish we could move on to something happier to combat these bad vibes, but unfortunately, we still have a couple more to go.

“Min” receives Rose’s secret

Well, at least we can cool down a little bit with this one. Not a ton going on here; basically just that Rose’s secret is pretty lowkey and I could cause more damage with other secrets elsewhere. I don’t think it would cause a particular stir with either other students becoming paranoid or Rose’s characterization and growth. I suppose that, without the excuse of being able to explain her past, Rose probably wouldn’t have had that chance to vent to Teruko, which was probably a good experience for her? The conflict-avoidant Rose will be suffering enough with all the turmoil going on around her, methinks.

Eden receives Nico’s secret

Make no mistake, this is not a decision made to hurt Nico. It’s meant to hurt Eden. With her compassionate heart and non-judgmental attitude, Eden is a great draw for any secret-holder to have in order to not cause trouble. That’s why I thought that the best move here was to use the secret as an offensive weapon to lessen her impact, as well as preventing a more problematic secret from being absorbed into her positive vibes.

Eden’s greatest secret is that she’s a lesbian, and she fears that people will come to hate her or discriminate against her if they find out about her identity. Therefore, the worst thing to do to her is to affirm those fears by shoving the homophobia someone else suffered in her face. Learning that Nico was mocked for their identity would make Eden less confident in hers, and might dampen her spirit enough that some of the good effects of her optimism are negated. She might become more hesitant to discuss secrets and more fearful of her peers, knowing that one of them probably knows about her identity and could use it against her at any time. Little does she know, it’s actually in the morgue alongside the Ultimate Rebel.

But, the fact that is just further feeds into my idea from Xander’s section. If Eden has just been reminded of how cruel the world can be to LGBTQ+ people, she wouldn’t be jumping at the opportunity to reveal which secret was hers. This would 1) allow another troublemaker to perhaps successfully claim it as their own, 2) make Eden look suspicious as she tries to come up with a solid lie of her own, and 3) postpone or deny (if Eden dies on a short timeframe) Eden’s ability to feel comfortable in herself.

Also (not to say that David forcing Nico to share their secret was a good thing), if Nico’s secret never becomes available to the public, they might have to go through the rest of their time in the killing game getting misgendered. Diversity loss!

J receives Teruko’s secret

J could stay quiet for a lot of things, but I feel like if she knew who the mastermind was (assuming she doesn’t know that she herself is the mastermind), that’s something she wouldn’t stay quiet about. I think that J at least wanted to see Teruko as her friend, given that she approached Teruko on the day she tested out her universal remote and roped Teruko in as part of her plan to get away from Arturo. Teruko double-crossing J by “being the mastermind” would, I think, be enough of a betrayal that J would set out seeking answers. Publicly.

Teruko, having just seen Xander’s secret, is also in a terrible mood, meaning that her ability to defend herself against J’s accusations and keep a cool head would be lessened, and possibly devolve into a screaming match. This would send the students down the incorrect(?) path as to the mastermind’s identity, further encourage Teruko to distance herself from everyone else, and cause J to lose faith in one of the few people she liked just before Arturo starts to get on her ass. Needless to say, the group would be in shambles.

That was rough, but we’re finally done. Let’s take a look at how things shook out.

(Once again, I really didn’t mean to make it look like Whit was laughing at Charles’ dead brother? A little treat for everyone who believes Whit is evil, I suppose.)

Blech. Even though torturing characters can be fun sometimes, speculating about the worst case scenario isn’t usually the kind of energy that I like to bring to this blog. Hopefully I was able to deliver something satisfactorily devastating, though!

As a final note, assigning all these secrets to everyone did get me thinking a little about what would have happened in this chapter if the motive had gone as planned, and everyone had gotten their own secrets. While it obviously wouldn’t have been as good as the good universe, I do think that people learning of their own secrets is a lot better than many of the bad scenarios that could have been created with a shuffle. Charles and Teruko definitely would have been a bit thrown, but at least in Charles’ case, I don’t know if it would have resulted in murder.

In my opinion, I think it’s probably most likely that David or Nico would have killed? David obviously cares a lot about his career and the prospect of his secret being shared with the world, so he could have tried to ride his good social graces and fake “family history of depression” secret to a Class Trial clear. Nico also has a lot to worry about with their secret getting out, and, already facing pressure from Ace’s bullying, it’s possible they would have made the same decision to kill Ace if Ace’s harassment continued. I suppose this is a question I can ask back at ya, Gremlyn, if you feel inclined to answer! :D And, thank you for the ask. Even if it got a little bleak, I had fun with it.

Stay safe and happy out there, everyone, and make sure your deepest, darkest secret doesn’t get handed to your worst enemy. Or really, just try to avoid entering a killing game at all. Until next time~

[bakugoushotwife]

Threads of Fate 2// s. gojo x fem!reader

a/n: a short cute dialogue loaded chapter mostly from gojo's perspective to bridge the gap!! prepare for the next chapter to be a lil crazy!

wc: 3.9k

chapter one // chapter three

series masterlist

chapter two playlist

Your energy field was already detectable on the training grounds. He hates that the dorms are so close. Feeling the warm hum of your electric energy roused him from the only peace he had—sleep. You were puzzling him. He usually understands everyone upon first meeting, and until now, Suguru had been the only person able to squeeze past his barriers and surprise him. He was different, of course, his support and ability to tolerate the Gojo clan’s star certainly landed him a spot as Satoru’s closest friend. But you…you show up to Tokyo with some sort of comprehension of who he is and what he is capable of, yet your confidence remains unwavering despite it all. You were brand new and all alone, you overpowered him in front of his sensei and his best friend without a sweat. He had never been beaten before. He managed to take it like a champ in front of you to not add to your satisfaction, yet it was all he thought about. He couldn’t escape your visual ability, and if you can simply repress his ability to use infinity then you would always win.

But instead of anger or the desperation to get better, he feels ridiculously intrigued. The way your energies reacted to each other was like nothing he’s ever seen before, sparks of red and green flying around you both just from the simple brush of shoulders. It had changed him, the feeling of what he could only imagine was your energy seeping into his. It was warm, it felt like it was choking him in a way, but it was enjoyable all the same. Enjoyable? It was bothersome. That’s more like it. He wonders if his eyes could adapt to yours, then he could block your attempts. Or maybe he could postpone your activation of them somehow, make you fight him hand to hand…

“She’s already out there training…” Suguru mumbles tiredly, his bunk right across from his own but much closer to the window. 

Satoru scoffs. He knew that already. He wonders if you could feel his presence too, and what you were thinking about yesterday. He decided the possibility of this being an innate technique of yours was slim to none. Though he didn’t know why your cursed energy stopped in your head at the time, his Six Eyes still alerted him to the weirdness of it. Of course it was later revealed that you have your own special eye, but the rest of you seemed relatively normal. He surmises that the natural effect you have on each other is not under your control after all. Though he’s still not sure what to make of it, and that alone freaks him out moderately. 

“She needs it.” Satoru says, extending a long and sinewy arm to feel around his bedside table for his glasses. His other hand rakes the sleep off his face, revealing his annoyed features. 

Suguru smirks. “You got your ass waxed yesterday, are you sure you don’t need it?” He teases, leaning against the window frame to watch your graceful form move along the training dummies, using various weapons to hone in your accuracy. 

He rolls his eyes, sliding his wire frames up his nose and giving his best friend a dissatisfied look. “You’re pathetic.”  

“What, because I can recognize power when I see it?” Suguru raises a brow, his sleepy eyes still reflecting his amusement from yesterday’s events. 

“No, because you’re drooling over the chick already. I’m your best friend! Support me!” He whines, reaching for his uniform with a bratty sigh. 

“I do support you, I support the pretty lady too.” He chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you aerobatically move around with a bo staff. “Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about her ever since that happened…” Suguru dutifully called out.

Satoru clicks his tongue. “Only ‘cause she’s weird.” He pouts, throwing his socks at his best friend. “Just go propose already, this is ridiculous!” He groans helplessly. 

“I might.” Suguru chuckles, swatting the socks away and chucking them back at rapid speed. “If there wasn’t something interesting happening between you two already.”

The long and lean teen gasped at the insinuation and wrinkled his nose with disgust, huffing and tugging his socks on. “You’re mean! She’s so not my type.” 

Suguru snorted “I’m sure. Fine, more for me.” He chuckled, peering back out the window. He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure my efforts are useless though, she literally sparks around you. You get everything.” He slouches back into his bunk. 

Satoru didn’t know how to describe how that made him feel. He felt a pang of jealousy, but he didn’t know if it was toward you or Suguru. This was so annoying. He figured you’d be a pain to train with no matter what, simply because you weren’t him and not as talented. But since it’s become clear you’re just as talented, if not…stronger at the moment. The idea irritates him and excites him at the same time. He has shouldered the burden of being the Gojo clan’s Chosen One since his birth. It’s hard to be raised with the idea that you will be society’s greatest weapon, the only thing that stands between a great evil and humanity. The idea that he didn’t have to do that alone, or even have someone to help him during that time was almost too good to be true. He knew he had Geto’s support, and he was strong too, but everyone could tell it was different for you two. 

He raked his hands over his face. “Well I definitely didn’t ask for whatever this shit is.” He grumbles, pouting as Suguru also steps out of bed to get ready. 

Suguru chuckles to himself, looking at his lanky friend strewn over his bed in clear dread of sparring with you this morning. He had never been challenged in this way. Suguru was amused. As badly as he wishes he could be more of a challenge for the boy he loves, he doesn’t stand a chance at any real defeat of him. Maybe he was jealous of you for being able to do that so easily, or maybe he was entranced by you for it. He couldn’t quite tell. In any event, it was obvious that Satoru and Y/N were fated to know each other, for better or for worse. That would be determined. 

“Hey, maybe if you don’t brush your teeth this morning you can use that hot breath as a weapon.” Suguru suggests with a shit-eating grin. 

Satoru snarls. “You’re funny this morning. Save it for your girlfriend.’

“She’s your girlfriend, you’re the ones assigned to be together.” 

“Jealous?”

“A little.” Suguru kicks Satoru’s shoe as he pulls on his shirt, just in front of the snow-haired boy. “It doesn’t matter, she likes me more anyway. Do you have a plan?”

He holds his hand up and waves it side to side, as if to say yeah maybe no kinda. 

Suguru raises his brow. “So no.”

“So kinda! I was thinking if I can tire her out she won’t be able to use her weird eyes on me.” The boy defends, getting to his feet too. As he stands, he catches a glimpse of you meditating. You look so peaceful, not at all like the snarky American protege he met yesterday. You look relaxed too, notably unafraid. It almost gets to him. You don’t even have the excuse of being ignorant. You know exactly what he can do, and you know you can beat him. You confuse him, but he doesn’t hate it, somehow, despite how badly he pretends to.

Suguru seems unimpressed by the idea. “How do you plan to keep her from just…using them? She knows she can’t hit you until she has them on.” 

He hums, going to brush his teeth explicitly because Suguru made a remark about his breath. Suguru had a point. In that case, he would have to enact Plan B. He stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, toothpaste foaming out of his mouth. He will just have to take your attacks until your eyes drain your cursed energy. He’ll have to force you to use your second form on him, the much more painful version of your controlling cursed threads. He’s not sure how he’ll do that, but he’s sure he can figure out a way to force your hand. He would best you this time, and he wouldn’t take any mercy during this fight. He couldn’t let you walk around thinking you were invincible. He spits out the toothpaste, rinsing his mouth out and finding his reflection once more. He was the strongest in the world. He had to remind you of that. His eyes steeled over with determination. 

“Are you ready Suguru?” He asks knowing full well the man was nowhere near ready. He steps aside, letting the other man have his bathroom time. Suguru hummed, brushing his hair. Satoru never really had to work on his appearance past getting the sleep out of his eyes and running a hand through his tresses. He didn’t think Suguru needed to work very hard either, though maybe the brush was necessary since his hair was past his shoulders. He shrugs, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest as he waits. 

“I have a backup plan.” He adds as Suguru begins his skincare routine. Satoru rolls his eyes, but doesn’t actively comment this time around. “I’ll just have to let her use her eyes and tire herself out on me. Don’t freak out when you see that.” He chuckles, knowing how sensitive Geto can be at times, especially when it relates to him. 

“Can’t you just put her in your Unlimited Void?” The other boy asks as he moves on to brushing his teeth. 

“Could, but I don’t have enough control over it. I could kill the brat.” He groans immediately, wishing that was a viable option. He had been practicing the finer details of his Unlimited Void, but as it stood right now, anyone that entered it would most likely die immediately. 

Suguru hums, clearly displeased by the arrangement. He wanted to see you come out on top, but he wasn’t keen on watching his best friend be brutally injured. From how Satoru explained your second form, Suguru was sure you’ve killed people before. He wipes his mouth and sighs, giving Satoru a dissatisfied look. “If you’re sure.” 

Satoru beams. “Never fear, Suguru! You know I can handle anything.” He says, clapping his friend on the shoulder, and striding for the door. That much was true, Suguru does know that Satoru Gojo can handle anything. He cherishes him for that, yet he didn’t want the boy underestimating his opponent. Satoru makes a show of flinging their dorm door open, almost forcibly carefree in the way he strolls to the training grounds. 

Your energy prickles his skin as he gets closer to you. It’s intense, it’s white hot and almost unbearable if it didn’t feel so good. It was addicting in some weird sense. He knows you feel him too, for when he rounds the corner he sees your eyes find him instantly. He smirks broadly; you narrow your eyes and grimace. Suguru just closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side as he grins and waves. 

“L/N-san! Ohayō!” He calls out, elbowing Satoru to say some sort of greeting. He doesn’t; he only strides forward with his hands in his pockets, a forced smirk adorning his features. You’re a better actress than he is, for you're able to walk closer to them, looking rather undisturbed aside from the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. The potency of your energy was too much for him to ignore, and he found himself craving to touch you. Not in any perverse way, though he wouldn’t necessarily be opposed, he just felt as if the feeling of your skin on his could possibly cure this intrusive energy field you’re affecting him with. 

You pop your knuckles and come to a stop just a few feet away from the pair. You keep your eyes trained on Geto, unable to predict yourself if you look at Gojo. You know that’s going to be an issue, considering the matter of your sparring and ultimate goal of training alongside him, but you’ve felt the vibrations of his energy all morning and you know the desire you have to get closer to him can only result in disaster. You’ve never heard of something like this before, and you’ve texted your brother to do some research for you. Until you hear back, you have to keep up this facade. You force a cocky grin to Suguru. 

“Oh please. It’s Y/N, you don’t have to be formal with me, Geto-san.” You assure him, smiling at the way his cheeks show his interest in you. 

“Then just call me Suguru.” He insists, and Gojo fakes a barf. 

After he’s done gagging, he rolls his eyes. “You two are disgusting. Please, stop making out in front of me.” He smirks, giggling to himself as Suguru’s eyes grow wide and you roll yours. 

“Oh whatever, I know you’d love to watch that.” You wink, still keeping your gaze on the flustered Suguru. He notes your confidence and decides to build on it, nodding his agreement. 

“Maybe if he wins this sparring session you can let him see.” He jabs you in the ribs, walking ahead to clear your training dummies away. Gojo’s nose crinkles at the tables being turned, and if he didn’t want to impress you and embarrass you at the same time, perhaps he would sulk about the remark, but instead he pretends to hurl again, ignoring the nasty flames of jealousy splitting his insides. Confusingly, he doesn’t know who for, once again, and he just feels silly and embarrassingly stupid. Why would he be jealous of such a thing? Meanwhile, the other side of him is wildly intrigued by the prospect. He can’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you both, though you’re brand new and annoying to him. Suguru was his best friend, and you were…his weird energy person. 

He begins to stretch, watching you do the same thing. You’re not very tall, and it’s clear that you’re probably stronger than you are fast, built curvy and compact like a wrestler or gymnast. You keep your hair tied up, you’re smart. In fights like these and the real cruel world, your pretty curly locks were only going to be a weapon. He thought Americans were dumb, and perhaps that was still the case. Though that meant he’d have to admit that you’re exceptional, and he’s not sure he can do that just yet. Feature wise, you’re his opposite. Ego wise, you’re his match. Power wise, he would find out soon. 

You disguise your gaze as you watch him. You were sure he devised some sort of plan to keep you from using your Quelling Eyes, though you had come up with many different angles to come after him with. If everything went according to your plans, you wouldn’t have to use your second form or Domain, you could stick strictly to your visual powers and First Form: Puppeteer’s Threads. 

It was mostly a sleepless night for you, unable to shake the consuming heat of his energy no matter the fact he was a floor below you and sleeping. Even out here on the training field, you couldn’t escape it. You watched the sun come up that morning in an effort to clear your mind, but everything was fruitless. Even as the air lost its chill and the morning sky became blue and fiery orange, all you could think about was the diaphanous blue eyes that grinned up at you, even after losing. You were right, looking at him made things much more difficult. It felt like there was a rope embedded in your stomach and he held the other end, tugging you toward him mercilessly. He gives you that enigmatic smile, lowering his black lenses to show you his glowing eyes. You figure that means his infinity is already hard at work, not that he wouldn’t turn it on as soon as the fight officially started anyway. 

“Ohayō, Dallas-chan.” He says, shamelessly looking you over. “You ready for revenge?”

You give him a matching haughty grin. “Luckily I don’t have to prepare for that.”

He chuckles at this, moving closer to you. In his mind, it’s hard to see anything outside of you. His vision with his Six Eyes was complicated. He could see Cursed Energy very well, and the outlines of figures, but sometimes he felt like he saw like a bat. He wasn’t able to make out features often, not while in use, but with you, that too was different. He could make out your smile and the twinkle in your eyes. He couldn’t resist the magnet drawing him to you, and it was clear then that he couldn’t hurt you. 

He didn’t want to. This realization softens his features a bit, and you’re taken aback. His energy thrums around you, it’s so palpable it starts to spark again, and it feels like your head is in a vice grip. As he gets closer, you almost want to step back to avoid exploding, convinced that’s what would happen if this pressure kept building. He was no better off, except the pressure felt clasped around his heart. He could feel every beat, the pulse sending his blood was notable as he kept walking. 

“I–I don’t know if you two should fight like this…” Suguru says, watching red sparks fly from Satoru and green ones from you, the two converging to make bright flashes of yellow light the closer you two got. It resembles lightning, and it bolts around the two of you, now just inches away from each other. 

Satoru nods. “I agree. I think we should look into this..” He suggests, amazed at the light show. Your eyes reflect the jolts of energy and your own awe, lips parted in wonder. Surely this was unheard of. He reaches his hand out to you. “Touch me. I have a gut feeling about it.” 

You look at his large palm, glancing up at his eyes as if you needed a final push. You had felt the same insatiable desire too, though you figured contact could go really well or…really not. 

You sigh, and nod, lifting your grip towards him. For a moment, the both of you bite your lips in anticipation. Suguru looks around nervously, noting the approach of your sensei. You shake, and Satoru craves the relief he knows will come. But Yaga interrupts, yelling loudly. 

“Do NOT touch!” He says, and you fall back a little out of surprise. Gojo looks dissatisfied, his hand falling to his side. He doesn’t know how to argue, and he certainly doesn’t want to beg for your hand, but the feeling he was fighting was growing so insufferable he had to do something about it. Yaga appears in between you, and that forces you two just far enough apart that the sparks die down. 

“What’s going on, Yaga-sensei?” Suguru asks, perplexed by the literal fireworks he saw happening before him. 

You, breathless just from the intensity, nod your seconding of the question. “Yeah, I’ve never seen or heard of this before.”

“It hasn’t happened for several hundred years.” The man gruffs, taking in the sight of the two of you. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “The two of you have a connection imbued into you from the gods. The two of you…are meant to be side by side.” 

Satoru’s eyes widen at this. He was certain of his own power, his own ability to endure whatever life threw at him alone. Though, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by this fated connection. “What does touching have to do with it?”

“Touching consecrates this bond, you two will boost each other’s abilities from then on, it’s stronger than Y/N’s connection with her twin.” Yaga explains, nodding toward you. “You’ll share cursed energy, you won’t be able to use your powers on each other, ocular or technique. And of course, you’ll be tied to each other for life.” 

“And if we don’t?” You ask, eyebrows raised in interest. 

Yaga tilts his head to the side. “The Ito won’t go away, it will continue to pull at you. But, it’s so rare…this has to be reported to the Higher Ups. They’ll want to see the two of you immediately.” Yaga shakes his head. He knows what to expect. He knows you’ll become a target here, too, and Satoru’s troubles will only grow deeper. 

The aforementioned man groans at the thought. “So what, I’m forever linked to Miss Americana here, and now we have to go before the Higher Ups to see if they’ll let us do what…literal fate wants us to?” He rolls his eyes and looks at you with a different glint to his eyes. He seems annoyed still, though not with you. Maybe he knows about this Ito that you’re so unfamiliar with. You know enough Japanese to get around, though you’re still regularly taking lessons, you still haven’t learned what this means. So you look up at him and shrug. He knows you don’t get it, but on this trip to Headquarters, he would explain everything and he would keep you safe from the Higher Ups’ wrath that’s sure to follow. They already held disdain for him because of his rebellious streak, he could only imagine how they would treat you. 

He looks over at you, and groans. It would be something stupid like this, you’re his freaking soulmate, basically. He’s not necessarily disappointed by this revelation, maybe annoyed yet again that he’s forced into a position that he doesn’t care to be in at this point. Maybe he had feelings for you that he’d been grappling with already, maybe he was being  childish by protesting, but he scrunches his nose up anyway. “An Ito? To the American? Is this a joke?”

You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head. It wasn’t exactly like you had seen this coming either. Sure, you realized his beauty the moment you saw him but his personality was insufferable, and you know he thinks the same of you. Surely you would be at each other’s throats at every waking moment, not the truest form of allies that could possibly exist! You huff. “How’s this even possible?” 

Yaga hums, satisfied to see such a strong connection between the two of you, but nervous at the same time for what’s to come from it. “The powers that be must think the two of you need each other, and that the world needs the two of you. You two should get to HQ as quickly as possible, and remember, do not touch without their permission.” He says, nodding to the two of you.

“Can Suguru come with us?” Satoru pouts, not wanting to be left alone with a girl. He knew he was good looking, but he didn’t know how to interact with a beautiful woman, especially one that’s basically willed to be his. 

Yaga shook his head. “I have missions for Geto-san to complete on his own. This is a mission for two. Now get going.” 

The two of you match dreary sighs, and make eye contact. Your eyes narrow, and then his eyes narrow. 

“Let’s go–”

“Let’s get going–” 

Suguru snickers at the two of you talking over each other. He gives Satoru a knowing look and sighs. “Good luck, Dallas-chan.” 

tags: @aepinkoutsold @purpleguk @ddora-kken @naorizenin @enflamedmusings @getosbigballsack @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @staygoldsquatchling02

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 5: Eriadu

A/N: It’s taken me ages to post another chapter. Life has been hectic but I have finally finished my last assignment until September so YAY!

Warnings: Canon events (but not that canon event), canon fighting, and the absolute glossing over of Saw and his antics. Mentions of death, injuries, feelings.

Word Count: 5.3k

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Masterlist

Tech’s eyes devoured the hologram of Eriadu. Echo’s contact had come through with the ground schematics, outlining the base and surrounding area. His mind was swirling. Every possible option and outcome played like a movie in his head as he worked out the best place to land. It had to be far enough from the base so they weren’t seen, but close enough for a swift extraction. He didn’t want to admit this plan had flaws, but that was the risk, was it not? Every operation had the potential to go horribly wrong, yet the squad had always managed to pull through.

“You need to rest at some point,” Hunter spoke from the shadows of the bunk, his voice still rough from waking up.

“I find it more relaxing to familiarise myself with the planet we are about to land on, than I do in sleeping.” He thought about things his brothers didn’t, like predatory fauna or possible toxic flora. He wanted to know how many patrols there were, how often they moved, how they got about the jungle…

“Tech.” Hunter used his warning tone, the suggestion to get some sleep was actually a non-negotiable order.

“I will achieve some sleep before we begin the approach to Eriadu.” Hunter huffed in resignation, sitting up on the bunk and running a hand through his hair.

“The others?”

“Omega is asleep in her room, Echo and Wrecker are in the cockpit.” Tech heard Hunter move, applying his plates of armour and slipping the bandana back into place before standing behind Tech’s chair.

“How does it look?”

“Doable,” Tech responded quickly. “However, we should be prepared for all eventualities.”

“Are you…ready?” Tech fought the urge to sigh. He knew what Hunter was asking, his head had never been more invested in a mission before even if Crosshair was the only beneficial outcome. Because he had spent hours facing that fact.

The door to the cockpit opened and the glow of hyperspace flooded the hold followed by Echo and Wrecker. A ration box was forced into Tech’s line of sight causing him to sit back in his chair, levelling a passive glare at Wrecker.

“Not hungry?” The larger clone growled in surprise. “I’m starving.”

“Luckily we brought fresh supplies from Pabu,” Hunter said, gently patting Tech’s spaulder.

Echo scoffed and crossed his arms. “More like, we’ll be lucky to see any of it.”

“Hey! I haven’t eaten that much,” Wrecker protested loudly, awarding him a rough nudge from Echo who nodded to the closed curtain across the gunner pit. “Oops.” He whispered, wincing when they Omega yawn.

She moved the curtain across, a sleepy smile growing on her face as she looked at her brothers. “Breakfast?” She asked hopefully, noticing the food in Wrecker’s hand.

“Ah yeah. Here ya go, kid.” She stepped down, cradling Lula with one arm. Hunter stepped forward to help her onto the bunk and Wrecker sat beside her, offering the rations. They both chewed in silence, eyes automatically drawn to the screen where Tech was looking at the area around Tarkin’s compound.

Echo stood beside him, eyes tracking over the screen, a soft sigh expelling from him. “It looks simple enough. A quick covert mission in and out,” he muttered mostly to himself.

“I can’t wait to see Crosshair and Stitch again,” Omega piped up. She sounded so hopeful, it made Tech’s chest tighten in a way he wasn’t familiar with.

“They’re not there,” Hunter reminded her.

“I know. I’m just looking forward to all the good things that will come from this.”

Wrecker bumped Omega’s arm gently, a smile on his face. “Yeah, will be good to finally have everyone back together.” Tech caught Hunter swapping a look with Echo and he tried to keep his mouth sealed, he tried not to say what was on his mind but…he had to voice it.

“This endeavour might not lead us to Stitch at all,” Tech announced matter of factly from where he was sitting, making everyone spin round to face him. He turned to see he had all their attention. So he continued. “Hemlock will most likely lead us to Crosshair as he is a clone and therefore, what Hemlock is apparently after. Stitch is an untrained force user and possibly has been sent…elsewhere.” He rose, picking up his datapad. He had said it now. The exhaustion of such a realisation threatened to press on his shoulders.

“Come on, Tech,” Wrecker broke the silence. “It’s like you think this won’t be easy.”

“It will not be easy,” Tech countered quickly, fingers gripping his datapad. “There is nothing to indicate Hemlock even has Stitch.” The words felt heavy as they left his mouth, heavy and true. He looked at all of his brothers, not risking looking at Omega. Wrecker stood to his full height, Hunter adjusting his position subtly and Omega glanced worryingly between them.

“It’s like you don’t want Hemlock to have her,” Wrecker shot at Tech, who gave the barest flinch at the words. “It’s like you don’t even miss her.”

Something flushed through Tech’s body, a feeling so intense he couldn’t face it directly.

“You are correct. I do not wish for Hemlock to have her.” His voice was steady, but he was collapsing inside. He had tried not to spare a thought for what Hemlock did in his secret laboratory, choosing not tell the others what he found.

Closing off from it was the best option, detaching from such a mind altering sensation could only help him keep his head clear. His expression went blank and he blinked once, adjusting his goggles while he tried to think of something else to say that wouldn’t let that feeling in. But there was nothing. The loss of you and the realisation that someone far more powerful and dangerous, might have you instead would break everyone apart. You were so beyond his reach…

Tech felt someone come up to his side, gently taking his limp fingers in theirs. He allowed it, for a moment, before turning on his heel and closing the cockpit door firmly behind him.

Omega immediately turned to Wrecker and scowled. “You know he misses her! Just because he doesn’t voice it, doesn’t mean he’s not feeling it!”

“Ow!” Wrecker’s huge hands covered his head and his expression fell into sadness. “I know,” he mumbled. “Now I feel even worse.” Hunter clapped a comforting hand on his larger brother’s shoulder, making eye contact with Echo who nodded and headed for the cockpit. He paused, taking a breath. Tech needed time on his own but knowing they were approaching Eriadu and into an almost blind mission...

Echo opened the door and closed it behind him, fully prepared for Tech to give some scathing retort or even the silent treatment.

What he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face in a hologram.

Tech sat in the pilot’s chair, a scene played from the mini holo on his gauntlet. You were dancing with Omega, happy and laughing. For a moment you looked up in Tech’s direction and gave him a soft smile. Even in the hologram, Echo could see the feelings you had held for Tech then. Hell, they’d all seen it months before Tech did.

Easing himself into the copilot chair, he continued to watch the scene play out, the blue glow reflecting in Tech’s goggles. “I miss her too.” Tech didn’t respond, so Echo leaned back in the chair to face the rush of light as they cut their way through the Galaxy. “I never told her what she did for me…how she made me more accepting of myself.” He sighed, frustrated he couldn’t convey exactly what was on his mind but he so desperately wanted to talk about you.

“She was a bright light in the dark. Steadfast, hard working, knowledgeable. Selfless.” Emotion threatened to choke off Echo’s words but he forced himself to continue. “She knew what I was feeling before I knew what I was feeling. She was always there with the right thing to say, a brief touch of her hand would lessen the load, fight the weariness…she talked to our brothers like she had been raised with them.” He paused, lost in the memory of you talking with Rex and Gregor, smiling and joking like you all weren’t in the middle of hostile territory.

Even living on Coruscant for a time, right under the nose of the enemy, and you still managed to bring a sense of calm, taking such a situation in your stride and fighting like a true soldier.

“I admire her. She understands what…what haunts me in the darkest hours. To be held captive, used against your will and harmed beyond recognition.” Echo swung his gaze to Tech, finding the other clone was already looking at him. “You said she could be somewhere else because she’s a force user?”

“Yes,” Tech murmured an affirmative. “It seems logical. She is not a clone, she has nothing that would interest him. The Empire wanted her. Not Hemlock.” Echo pressed his back teeth together at the sight of Tech’s shoulders slumping. How long had his brother carried the weight of this realisation before saying it now?

“We won’t stop,” Echo promised. Tech said nothing else. He pressed a button on his vambrace and another hologram began to play. Echo let out a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes.

Echo had found solitude to be the worst feeling he’d ever encountered after he had been rescued. Tech had been there from the beginning, teaching him about his new limbs, enhancing them and fixing them when needed. The whole Batch had pieced Echo back together, now he resolved to try and do the same for Tech.

It wasn’t the same sort of loss, but he wasn’t going to leave his brother to suffer alone. So he settled down, hoping his presence was enough to lessen the agony Tech must be internalising.

After a while, Echo noticed Tech had fallen asleep in his chair. The hologram played on a continual loop showing your smile, your eyes, your expression softening as you looked at Tech.

Echo hoped you were safe and unbroken, wherever you were. A fierce protective loyalty rose in his chest like a brand. The idea of anyone reducing you back to that nervous woman, they found in the slavers compound, had him wanting to rip the Empire apart with more venom than he already did.

Echo eyed the scan of the Eriadu on the console. He liked to go over the details as many times as possible before a mission like this. “I have identified a suitable location to land outside their sensor range.” Tech informed him. Everyone was in the cockpit after a few hours of rest and some food. Tech had thrown himself into readying them all on the approach to the planet, ready to drop them out of hyperspace.

Hunter frowned at the image. “How are we bypassing those cruisers?”

“Using a clearance code Rex and I acquired from one of our contacts,” Echo explained.

“Good to have you back, Echo. Just like old times,” Wrecker told Omega with a smile.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace, revealing the cloudy grey surface of Eriadu and the three Venators orbiting the planet. Hunter told Wrecker to man the tail gun, refusing to leave them completely defenceless if anything went wrong.

“Transmitting clearance codes now,” Echo reported.

“If this doesn’t work,” Hunter lowered his voice and leaned on Echo’s chair. “Be ready to fly out of here.” No one said anything as the transmission sent. Tech and Echo seemed the most relaxed, which Hunter noticed. He tried to draw on that, to lean into their complete surety, but so much was riding on this moment he could barely breathe.

The com beeped and Tech’s fingers tightened on the flight controls. “Vessel 1143, you are clear for approach.”

Hunter let out a controlled breath and glanced at Omega who was smiling. Echo nodded, his trust in this contact clearly unshakable and Tech easily guided them through the atmosphere to the landing site he had already deemed appropriate.

The cloud cover was thick, jagged edges of rock stabbed upwards into the sky but Tech manoeuvred them with ease. The landing gear took the weight of the ship and Tech powered it down. First mark made.

“Let’s gear up,” Hunter ordered. They needed to move quickly and quietly. The longer they were here, the more chance they had of being discovered.

Echo left the ship first, blaster already drawn. “Let’s make this quick,” he ordered, voicing Hunter’s thoughts. “Before they realise we didn’t land at the base.”

Under the cloud cover, the air was clear. Hunter took the lead through the trees, his senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. Tech followed with Omega who started to talk in a hushed tone. “What sort of approach are we making?” She asked eagerly. “A side-wind breach?” Tech looked at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners to show he was smiling under his helmet. He came to a stop with Echo. “It worked on Raxus.”

“It won’t work here,” Echo countered. “The Empire’s protocols have changed since then.

Wrecker scoffed. “Thanks to us.”

“No tanks and no explosives this time, Wrecker,” he warned firmly, stalking after Hunter. The larger clone groaned, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to blow up something. He knew this wasn’t the mission for it, stealth and surprise were their allies right now.

They approached a clearing. Hunter ordered them silently to a stop, dropping to his knee as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A large motion sensor hummed continuously before them and beyond that was a tall strut for the skyrail cars that whipped rapidly down the rail. Using his binocs, Hunter surveyed the mountain.

“Hmm. The compound is heavily fortified.”

“But there’s a weak point in the rail line that we can exploit,” Echo pointed out. “We’ll sneak past the sensor and hitch a ride under one of the cars.”

“You mean, hang? Over that?” Hunter tilted his head towards Omega, a slight grin she couldn’t see moved his mouth. He wanted to point out all the times he’d caught her suspended from somewhere she shouldn’t be, that she chooses to get anxious over this one. Although…he could see why. You couldn’t see the bottom of the ravine and sometimes the unknown liked to play on fears.

“Well, it’s the only way to access the compound unnoticed,” Echo told her.

Hunter knew they had to act quickly. “Tech, disable the sensor.”

“That would trigger an alert,” Tech instantly responded, having already scanned the device. “I can temporarily disrupt that feed, but I estimate only 30 seconds for us to clear the zone before it reactivates. We must be precise,” he stressed. They all turned as one to look at Wrecker crouched behind them.

“What?! I can handle it!” He spluttered. He hated heights, they made him feel queasy, his eyes swam and everything went out of focus. But he’d do this. For Crosshair, for you, for his brothers.

Echo handed Tech back his blaster after fitting the grapple mod. Hunter raised his binocs, watching the sensor cycle through. They had done this so many times no words were needed. The blood roared in Hunter’s ears. With a mission like this it was action after action, and he had the whole team to worry about.

He watched the sensor, counting the seconds as the lights filtered round the device. His hand lifted and Tech tensed beside him. Hunter held his breath…waiting…then his hand dropped. He’d never admit it out loud, but his heart was in his throat as he watched his brother hanging off that sensor. Well, he supposed Omega had to get it from somewhere. He kept watching through the binocs, making sure Tech had cleared the lip of the sensor before he offered his blaster to Echo for the grapple mod.

“Stand by.” Tech told them over the com.

An awareness skated up Hunter’s spine followed by the low rumble and whine of the skyrail. Their ride was coming in fast. “Another railcar is approaching. Are we set?” He demanded of Tech.

“Not…yet.” Hunter’s jaw flexed under his helmet. This could be too close but it was their only chance. To his relief, the tingling along his arms faded as the sensor powered down. “The sensor is down. Move in!”

He didn’t have time to check on Omega, or Wrecker, even Echo. He had to trust them, to know they were just behind him no matter what. He counted the thuds as each magnetic grapple sealed onto the speeding railcar.

One…two, three, four…then the fifth one on the other side as Tech joined them. The lines reeled them all in and Hunter left out a slightly shaky exhale as he checked on his brothers and Omega. They’d made the second mark, now it was onto the third.

They hunkered down against the hull of the railcar and the rushing wind. Raven’s Peak stood tall and proud against sky, growing closer and closer with each rushing second.

“Halfway there,” Echo announced to them all.

Wrecker chuckled. “This isn’t so bad.” Hunter spared his burly brother a glance, letting an amused smirk turn up the corner of his mouth when Wrecker looked down and groaned loudly. “Never mind.”

The railcar began to slow and Hunter had already noticed the trooper near the entrance. He didn’t think, he just acted. Dropping away from the railcar and launching himself at the white armoured soldier. The katarn knuckle plate cracked satisfyingly across the sentry’s helmet before he could even lift his blaster. Swiftly followed by a knee to the gut and an elbow jab in the face that disorientated him so much, he toppled easily over the railing.

There was no time to think about what he’d done. During the war it had been droids he dismantled, they required no mourning and did not leave heavy weights on his soul. But this was about survival and it was kill, or be killed.

A blaster bolt zipped past Hunter’s shoulder to take out the other guard further down the walkway. A well placed shot from Echo while him and Wrecker sandwiched Omega between them. Tech dropped off the back of the railcar and took the rear position. The squad pressed themselves against the wall just as the door opened and amother sentry stepped outside. Hunter shot this time, right in the chest, the momentum of the shot taking the soldier over the railing to join his comrade.

With a nod, Hunter stepped inside, covering the others as they filed in until the door sealed shut behind them.

The hangar wasn’t hard to find and troopers were unaware of their skulking around. For now, anyway. The squad gathered around Hunter, ducking down in the shadows as he surveyed the ships standing motionless in the hangar. They were all Rho-class shuttles with no discernible markings. He grimaced, gone were the days of individuality. The troopers may all be different under the helmets but the Empire went to great lengths to keep everything bland and uniform.

“Which ship is Hemlock’s?” Omega whispered.

“We need to access the hangar manifest from the control room,” Echo told her.

“Tech, Echo, with me. You two,” Hunter turned his helmet to Wrecker. “Plant the homing beacon.” He didn’t wait for confirmation, he didn’t have to. Hunter covered Tech and Echo as they took the ladder up to the next floor. A few simple turns and they were there, the door of the control slide open and Hunter stunned one of the technicians as Echo took down the second.

Echo holstered his blaster. “I’ll monitor their security channels.” Hunter heaved the stunned technician out of the way so Tech could have access to the console. He hadn’t even dropped the guys legs before Tech was relaying what he’d found.

Wrecker watched his surroundings warily. The receptors in his helmet could pick up a trooper’s footfalls or the rolling of a droid as it trundled past. He cast a quick glance at Omega, taking in the fierce look of determination on her face while she waited patiently for intel from the others.

“Found it. Hemlock’s shuttle is at docking lane four.”

“Copy that,” Omega responded quietly. Lifting her binocs to focus on the ship in lane four. “That’s Hemlock’s ship.” The pair of them watched some troopers with a hovercart for a few beats. “It’s too exposed,” she mused with a bite of frustration in her voice. “How are we supposed to get to it?”

“There’s not enough cover for me, but there is for you,” Wrecker pointed out. He didn’t want to send her out there alone…he’d blow this whole place up if he could but that wasn’t the mission. “You think you can handle it?” He could nothing but admire the way she squared up to his words. She was tiny to him, tiny and puny but powerful and robust at the same. He loved her so much, his heart would explode before anything happened to her.

“Not a problem.”

“Hmm, good. Here, take the beacon. I’ll keep an eye out.” He watched from the shadows as she expertly made her way to the floor of the hangar. Wrecker debated staying up top for a vantage point, but he couldn’t stomach being out of reach if she needed a hand. He tried to be quiet, silently cursing his wide feet when they clonked on the alloy cased floor.

Omega was swift and light on her feet, using the hovercart as cover as well as her small size. Wrecker knew he’d never have been able to do that and it would have all ended in a big beautiful explosion.

“Ok, the homing beacon is secure.”

“Wait! There’s more heading your way.” Blasted troopers. They always appeared at stupid times and Wrecker’s heart smashed into his ribs as he watched them patrol past Omega’s hiding place. He lost sight of her, craning his neck while hoping no one could see him peeking from the shadows.

The com beeped and Omega’s scared voice wavered through. “I’m pinned down!” Wrecker’s hand fisted, his fingers digging into the meat of his palm. He didn’t know where the rest were, if he caused a scene now it could leave them trapped deeper in the compound.

“Stay in position,” Echo’s calm voice filled his helmet. “I’ll divert them.” That meant they were still in the control room. Wrecker had no idea what to expect and the magnetic crane coming to life on its own wasn’t something he’d have guessed. The troopers watched as it magnetised one of the smaller ships, only to swing it round and demolish the stack of crates they had been meticulously building.

Wrecker winced at the alarm that sounded, the beeping was loud, ringing in his head but it didn’t distract him from looking for Omega. He found her at the same time as a mouse droid, crushing it beneath his foot. Oh how he missed the satisfying sound of clanker circuits fizzing out.

“Oops.” Some troopers ran past and they took that moment to run back to where they had entered. “Hunter…” Wrecker growled into his com, ducking back behind the crates with Omega as more troopers rushed past.

“We’re coming, with extras.”

“Aww. Leave some for me! Come on kid.” They followed the sounds of blaster fire. Flashes of blue and red lit up the corridor walls, mixing with the purple of Omega’s bow as soon as she activated it.

The squad nearly crashed together, Hunter sidestepping an eager Wrecker. “You got ‘em all?” He asked, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Trust me, more are coming,” Tech said.

“Keep moving!” Hunter reminded them.

“We can use the railcar to get back to the ship,” Echo recited, blaster up, his helmet moving side to side.

“Excellent idea,” Tech agreed. “Shooting the grapple lines at the sensor will work, by the time they have realised we are not in the base anymore, it will be too late to capture us.”

“Let’s go then,” Hunter almost growled, feeling the vibrations of more troopers running in their direction.

More blaster shots were fired. Tech dropped to a knee, firing both his weapons with scary precision as Echo helped Omega down the ladder that would take them back outside. Wrecker chuckled while firing off a few shots, clearly enjoying himself.

They left the upper corridor, Hunter making sure everyone made it down unscathed and into the open railcar doors. He looked expectantly at Tech who stared at the control panel for a second before turning to Echo.

“We need an access code,” he blurted out breathlessly.

“I’ll override it.” Echo twisted his scomp in the socket just as Omega’s bow released a shot and took out a trooper trying to access the railcar. Thankfully none of them made it aboard, and Echo successfully started it up, sailing them away from Raven’s Peak.

They all sighed with relief, Wrecker slumped to the floor of the car while Tech stood by an opening to look outside. Hunter watched the compound shrink into the distance, his hand curling into a fist. He hoped this worked. Otherwise it would all have been for nothing.

“We are approaching our destination,” Tech told them and Echo slowed the railcar down, bringing it to a stop.

“It looks further from here,” Omega spoke quietly, eyeing the distance from the open car doors to the sensor.

“We must, once again be precise,” Tech started. “The grapple must connect to the sensor. I advise, you do not miss.” Wrecker groaned, tapping his helmet as though trying to knock out any bad thoughts he had about falling, out of it. “We have to go together.”

“And soon.” Hunter gestured to the horizon where he could make the shapes of v-wings heading their way.

“That is to be expected,” Tech cast his bright gaze to the ships. “We have less than a minute before they are within firing range.”

The squad raised their grapples. “Be sure of your aim,” Hunter told them all. Out of this entire mission, this was probably the worst moment. One they couldn’t go round. It was their only way out.

“Now!” Tech’s line released first, followed by Hunter and Echo, then Wrecker and Omega. It seemed like forever before the magnets hit their target, and they were going down this time. Hunter felt his heart leap behind his ribs, trying to not panic with the sensation of free falling before his grapple began to pull him towards the sensor. “We must be quick,” Tech stated again. “Or they will follow us to the Marauder.” He landed on the sensor, Hunter close behind him with Echo and Wrecker.

“Hunter!” Omega’s scream came through their coms, making them turn as one. Her grapple wasn’t working, the mechanism had jammed and she was falling.

He’d never felt so helpless in all his life.

He heard her little body collide with the sheer cliff rock. The sound of her pain rippled through him, choked off with a strangled sob as she tried to hide her terror from her brothers.

“Hold on, Omega!” Hunter shouted, jumping from the sensor to the ground and ignoring the complaints from his legs, rolling with the momentum. Tech reacted quickly, pulling the line with Wrecker while Echo also jumped down.

“Just hold on!” He called again, peering over to see her dangling below him. He started to pull the line as well, aware of the sensor humming behind him, the pulse sweeping over him, the sensation making him grind his teeth. His arms pulled, his legs tensed and Echo threw himself onto the ground, his arm outstretched.

“We’ve got you, kid.” The sensor let out a screeching alarm, the v-wings cut through the air towards them but he cared only about getting Omega onto solid ground.

Her tear streaked face appeared, hands paling under the strain of holding on with a death like grip. Wrecker was there, helping to pull her to safety.

“We must leave.” Hunter agreed with Tech. They were all about to be blasted into the ground if they didn’t move.

“Pick her up, let’s move!” Wrecker scooped up Omega just as the first ship started to fire, the bolts kicked up clods of earth and rock, showering the squad in debris.

But they didn’t stop. They didn’t breathe. Using the trees as cover, they ran for the Marauder. Tech opened the ramp, diving inside to get them off the ground.

“My leg,” Omega whimpered when Wrecker went to stand her up.

“Strap in!” Tech warned. “I fear our exit may be rather chaotic.”

“Strap her to the bunk,” Hunter suggested. Wrecker was as gentle as he could be but she still cried out in pain, tears dripped down her cheeks and she swiped at them.

“I—I think I broke it.” Hunter pushed his helmet off, hands searching for the med scanner as the ship lurched into the sky. Wrecker moaned, stumbling into the gunners chair to cover their escape. Hunter activated the scanner, memories of you and Tech in this very position haunted him. It was the first time he’d seen how amazing you were, what you were really capable of. You had saved Tech’s life, saved his brother without a second thought.

The laser beamed over Omega, her jaw square with tension, hands clutching the edge of the bunk as Tech spun the ship, taking a shot to the back end. Hunter planted his feet, using his other hand to hold on and steady himself while Gonky slid along the floor, legs kicking.

“Well?” Omega sighed, her eyes fluttering. “Am I right?”

Hunter frowned. “Omega?”

“She ok?” Wrecker shouted, worry lining his tone.

“Omega!” Hunter shook her shoulder and got no response.

“About to enter hyperspace!” The rushing blue and white lights should have been relief. Hyperspace meant they had escaped, it meant they were safe. All of them except Omega. “How is she?” Tech appeared at Hunter’s side, shifting his goggles nervously.

“Her leg is broken, she must have tried to soften her drop into the cliff face with her legs. I wish Stitch were here.” Hunter usually kept those thoughts to himself, but right now he would fight the entire galaxy to have you on this ship.

Tech tensed, his eyes fixed on Omega as he churned over what to do. “AZI can help. We are not so far from Ord Mantell, and Cid has shown a fondness for Omega in the past.” Hunter’s brow furrowed. It was a good idea, and it wasn’t. “We are not faced with any other choice.” He nodded. Slipping onto the bunk, careful not to jostle Omega. He swiped the bandana off, running his fingers through his hair while his chest expanded with a deep breath. He ached, his body ached and his heart ached.

They would go to Ord Mantell, it was their only option.

“Set the coordinates,” Hunter rasped. Stars, he was tired.

“I am successfully tracking Hemlock’s ship, no movement as of yet.” Tech informed him, pushing buttons on this datapad.

“Keep an eye on it. This could finally be the break we need.” Tech nodded, but didn’t smile. Hunter could read him, the brief curl of his brother’s fingers, the quick blink of his eyes, the shift of his feet…he was worried this wouldn’t lead to you. Tech had voiced that on the way here and Hunter hadn’t listened. “Tech…” their matching gazes met for a moment before Tech focused on something over Hunter’s shoulder. “We will find her.”

“Debatable,” he clipped the word out, gaze drawn back to his datapad. “But I will never give up.”