#Next chapter is also ready! Will post maybe tomorrow?

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : 01-17 On Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

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Chapter 18: I’m so terribly lost

Chapter title is lyrics from "LosT"

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The view took me by surprise as we pulled up to the hotel.

I’d offered to drive the van from the venue to here despite never having driven on the right side of the road before. While I was scared of new driving situations on most days, it turned out my brain was entirely too preoccupied with everything else going on in my life at the moment, making this particular challenge seem relatively insignificant in comparison.

Plus, it gave me a reason to not interact with either Oli or Mat for two hours straight.

The road between the venue and hotel had started quite industrial – dreadful even, making me doubt any nice destination could be anywhere nearby, but during the second hour the roads turned windier, growing thicker with nature. It was around 1pm when we arrived, the sun was high in the sky and the sound of birds chirping could be heard all around us as I took in the front of the hotel; it was a relatively large structure, maybe four stories tall, made of wood and stone with an abundance of arched windows.

Architecturally it wasn’t too impressive, but you could tell the place must have cost a fortune to book considering its surroundings, which was nothing short of spectacular; a mixture of manicured greenery framed by what seemed like acres worth of woods, overlooking a lake peppered with little islands, popping out of the water as random tufts of green in the distance.

It was truly stunning.

“Not as nice as in summer, but still bloody brilliant, innit?” I heard Mat say somewhere behind me, but I could barely take my eyes off the magical body of water as I stepped out of the van.

“Yeah, not bad that.” Lee agreed.

Liam sighed deeply before one of the van doors slid shut, “Wish I could fucking live here.” He muttered as he nudged me to help him with the luggage.

But when I turned around Oli was already pulling things out and delegating them to their owner, causing the guys to walk off towards the hotel entrance one by one. 

When I got closer I could see my own luggage at the very front, but he kept reaching for everyone else’s first anyway.

I felt myself smile when I realised what he was doing.

Mat walked past me with his luggage in hand, “See you in a bit, yeah?”

He smiled at me, causing me to awkwardly smile back at him as Oli was watching us.

“Yeah, I won’t be long.”

Once Liam left, it was just me and Oli standing next to the open van door, looking out over the lake.

“Aren’t you gonna give me my luggage?” I asked teasingly, knowing damn well he’d orchestrated getting me alone.

But he had no interest in keeping up the pretence, instead he immediately slipped a hand to the small of my back and pulled me intimately flush against him. I would have been worried someone could see us if it wasn’t for our large van blocking the hotel, effectively giving us privacy from anyone in that direction.

Instead I welcomed the affection, having missed it last night when I went to bed.

He looked down at me with longing in his eyes, and for a moment I thought he was about to kiss me, but instead he spoke.

“You never responded to my texts.”

I’d been avoiding it since I didn’t know how to break the news to him about what I saw Mat do last night.

Or how it had affected me; how it had stirred further confusion in me.

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could think of to respond for now, but he seemed uninterested in my apologies.

With a finger under my chin he studied my face before guiding me in for a kiss. It was so soft – so tender, instead of the passionate and carnal kisses we usually shared.

Yet the hand on my back seemed to have other ideas, pushing me closer to him before proceeding to slip under the hem of my shorts.

He pulled away, frowning.

“You’re not wearing any underwear, love.” He said against my lips.

I should have pieced it together sooner, but it wasn’t until now that I realised this had all been about my imminent date with Mat; how he’d sent me a text, instructing me to wear the garment that he otherwise wanted me to skip.

“I’m getting changed in a minute. I’ll wear some.”

A lazy smile spread over his features, and with a sparkle in his eye, his hands returning to caress my back.

“Good.” He murmured, before he gave me another equally delicate kiss. I reached for his neck, letting my fingers feel the hair there as warmth spread throughout my chest. For a moment the world fell away from the intoxicatingly tender kisses, but he untangled us, pulling me in for a hug that caused my heart to ache instead.

He’d buried his face in the crook of my neck, wrapping his arms around me with a sense of desperation, like he didn’t want to let go.

Like he was in pain.

We stood like this for some time, and all I could think of to do was hug him back, hoping it would comfort him; hoping it would ease my own heartache as well.

When he finally pulled away he was wearing a big smile, but it didn’t fool me, I could still see the sadness painted all over him.

He let go of me entirely, causing my heartache to intensify, making me want to skip my date with Mat for a moment.

Before remembering that Oli was the reason I was going in the first place.

I took the luggage he was handing me off of him.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He said with a grin, then stalked off towards the hotel.

Leaving me to melt against the van, feeling as if I was being yanked in a million directions.

Once I’d managed to pull myself together and get inside, I saw Liam waiting impatiently in the rustic yet contemporary foyer.

“Sorry.” I said sheepishly when I got closer, having forgotten entirely that we’re sharing a room this time as well, like we had the entire first week of the tour.

While impatient – made obvious by how he essentially shoved me into the elevator – his expression immediately softened from my apology, “Ah, don’t worry about it, love. I may be grumpy and tired but my troubles pale in comparison to the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. At least I get to rest today.”

I sighed, “You heard about all the dates then?”

“Yeah.” He said with a laugh.

Our room continued in the same airy yet rustic design as the foyer, making everything look expensive; the ceilings were high and littered in dark wooden beams, contrasting against all the light colours of the room, with large windows looking out over the woods behind the hotel.

Liam collapsed onto his bed.

“Fucking amazing.” He breathed.

While it looked incredibly plush and comfortable, I didn’t have much time to get ready for my date with Mat, so I skipped the otherwise obligatory trying-the-bed ritual, and grabbed some underwear, jeans, and a sweater and went to get changed in the bathroom. It had seemed like the perfect choice for a day by the lake, especially since I didn’t want to wear anything too revealing, but when I re-appeared from the bathroom with my new outfit, Liam sat up in the bed looking utterly appalled.

“You can’t wear that.”

“Why not?” I said, feeling slightly offended.

“You’ve been parading around in all your slutty clothes for weeks now, why are we shifting gears all of a sudden? You did the same thing last night with that other frumpy sweater.”

I frowned, “I don’t know, I just don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea!?” Shocked and confused, Liam shot out of bed to start rummaging through my luggage, “I know you’ve got stuff going on with Oli, but why are you even bothering going on a date with Mat then?”

As I watched him search for clothes, I searched within myself for answers, attempting to figure out exactly why I was going on this date. Because while I had initially agreed to it for Oli, it turned out that I also needed to know whether there could be something more with Mat – not just for Oli’s sake, but for my own.

“I guess… I guess I want to know if there’s something between me and Mat.”

“Alright, can’t do that while holding back, can we? Take that bloody sweater off.” He handed me a tight, completely see-through crop top I’d intended to wear over a dress – not just over my bra.

With an open mind, I replaced my sweater with the top he��d picked out.

“Okay, now you look like you’re going on a date.” He said as I stepped in front of the mirror. A sense of freedom flooded me as I took in my own reflection, causing the woman in the mirror to smile back at me.

“Fine, you’ve convinced me, this is a lot better.” I admitted with a sigh.

And from the expression Mat wore when I stepped off the elevator it was pretty safe to say he agreed.

“Well don’t you look incredible.” He said, eyeing me up as he opened the hotel entrance door for me.

“Thank you,” I responded with as much confidence as I could muster up, but I still felt my cheeks heat up as I passed him in the doorway, the close proximity allowing me to smell his rich cologne which matched his warm and earthy personality quite well.

I let myself glance at Mat’s outfit when we stepped outside, but I made quick work of it as it somehow still felt inappropriate to look at him in that way.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.” I added shyly, feeling more heat creep up my face.

Mat usually wore long sleeves, but today he’d opted for a short sleeve button up, showcasing most of the tattoos on his arms that weren't on display too often.

The image of his tensing arm, gripping the armrest while he came last night flashed in my mind.

I pushed it away immediately, not wanting to turn any redder than I already was.

“Why thank you,” He threw me a cheeky smile, “It’s not far, just down that path.”

He pointed down a narrow path along the treeline next to the edge of the lake.

“Great, do you want me to take those?” I asked out of habit, inclining my head towards the two plastic bags Mat was carrying, which were clinking as he walked.

“Absolutely not! You’re not working today, love.” His smile grew, and I couldn’t help but match it as we made our way down the path.

“You know, we’ve been coming here for over a decade now, every time we tour the US.”

“I can see why.” I said before I narrowly avoided getting hit in the face with a branch while passing a particularly narrow part.

“Oli used to hate it actually.” His eyes darted to me after he’d said it.

I frowned, “Why’s that?”

“There’s nothing going on out here, just peace and quiet. I think it made his head a bit loud, at least back when the drugs used to be an issue.” The look he gave me was serious, “He’s very different now though, quite reliable.”

My frown deepened. 

I couldn’t help but wonder where he was going with this, or why he was talking about Oli at all right now.

“Why are you telling me this?”

He stopped in the middle of the path to face me, right before a bend, “Because Oli’s an amazing guy, but he doesn’t seem to think he is. Pretty ironic really, for someone who changes all the time, he gets a bit stuck in the past sometimes, thinking he’s the same person from a decade ago – when he’s not. He’s grown so much more than he gives himself credit for.” He took a deep breath, “You should hear that from someone before you go on a date with him.”

While I was grateful Mat had confirmed my suspicions about Oli being too hard on himself, I was still perplexed why he had chosen right now to tell me these things.

“But I’m currently on a date with you.”

He huffed out a laugh, “Which I’m incredibly happy about, but if I know Oli right, he’ll probably end up saying some nice things about me as well.”

Which to be fair, Oli had already done.

Mat’s eyes turned thoughtful, “I guess my point is that Oli will be my best friend no matter what happens today, so let’s have a nice time, yeah?”

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips as he essentially settled one of my main worries about today, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” His features mimicked mine before he started walking again, finally turning the corner.

I followed, but as soon as I did, I was blown away.

The trees in front of us had grown in a massive arch, framing the view of the lake with their branches, and right down the middle you could see all the way across to the other side of the rather large lake, as if all the tiny islands had decided in unison to let you sneak a peek, but only from this very particular location.

“Holy shit.” I breathed.

“I know, it’s nuts, innit?” He said as he took a seat on the stone wall behind us.

After I picked my jaw back up off of the forest floor, I joined him, watching him pull out two cardboard tubs, handing one of them to me, along with a fork.

“Here you go. Careful– it’s still hot.”

“This is strange, it’s usually me bringing you food.” I said, taking a bite of the absolutely heavenly risotto.

“Well, I know it’s your job, but I’m still very grateful for all you’ve done for us the past month.”

I shook my head, “Oh please, I barely get anything right.”

“Nonsense.”

I just stared at him.

“So you mess a couple things up here and there.” He admitted with a smile.

“I dropped Lee’s guitar once.” I said sheepishly, causing his eyes to widen, “It was in its case, but still…”

He burst out laughing, “Let's keep that between us, he’ll wring your neck for that one.”’

We ended up talking about past touring incidents for a while, and I was happy to learn that I was far from the worst assistant they’ve had, with someone having short circuited the speakers right before a gig.

The conversation was flowing long after we finished our food, but every so often I’d catch him looking at my lips, and every time he did my mind would be flooded with images of him from last night.

It was growing increasingly distracting, requiring more effort each time to push the intrusive thoughts away.

When it happened again, the conversation suddenly stopped, making me wonder if he was experiencing something similar.

Making me wonder if I had imagined the faint flickers of lust in his eyes, merely a projection of my own feelings onto him, or if he was struggling to concentrate as much as I was.

“Do you like whiskey?” He asked after a moment of heavy silence, rummaging through one of the plastic bags next to him in order to produce two glasses and a bottle with amber liquid inside.

“Yeah, it’s alright.”

He handed me a glass and proceeded to pour us both a healthy serving each.

Then instantly downed his entire glass.

“Are you okay?” I laughed nervously, noticing how he wasn’t looking at me anymore.

He smiled, but his eyes were still on the lake, “Bit nervous to be honest with you.”

I felt myself fidget slightly out of discomfort, “You don’t really strike me as the nervous type.”

“That’s the thing, I’m not.” He started, eyes darting to mine, “But last night rattled me a bit.” He took a deep breath, “Sorry I know we said we’d pretend it never happened, but it’s just been looping in my head all day– anyway, let’s talk about something else–”

“I can’t stop thinking about it either.” I interrupted him, without thinking it through; without considering the potential consequences of agreeing to address the elephant in the room.

I just couldn’t pretend any longer. It was as if ignoring the elephant only made it grow larger, impossible to ignore, completely overtaking my mind.

“Can I confess something to you?” I had never seen him look so nervous. 

There was something unsettling about seeing someone so calm and collected in that state.

I nodded as my pulse sped up.

He spoke slowly, “When we were hanging out backstage last night, I wasn’t sure we had too much chemistry. Not that I don’t find you attractive, quite the contrary, you’re really fucking fit Alice.” His eyes quickly darted to my breasts that were clearly on display in this top, before clearing his throat, “We just didn’t seem like we connected in that way. Sometimes that stuff just takes a little while to develop though, which is fine.” There was a short pause, and I’m not sure my face could be any warmer when he continued, his voice low, rough, “But the way you looked at me last night when you walked in on me…” He visibly swallowed, “...The way you’re looking at me right now.”

His eyes fell to my lips again and I felt as if I was about to pass out.

Not only had his eyes turned dark, but his demeanour was dripping with the same energy from last night. The same dirty, rough stare that made me wonder if he fucked like an animal.

“Can I try something?” He asked, sounding surprisingly collected considering his appearance.

I was bewildered, but curious.

“Yeah.” I breathed, giving away too much of my state as always.

He stood up, his gaze not leaving me once as he stepped in front of me, his warm hands firmly grabbing my knees, spreading my legs for him, causing me to gasp before he stepped between them. Our faces were mere inches apart, our bodies not connecting anywhere except where his hands rested on me, having travelled up the outside of my thighs.

“Is this okay?” He asked under his breath, heavy eyelids resting over his green eyes.

I could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the heat radiating off of him, making me want to pull him in for a kiss, to crush my body against his, to feel the hard cock against me that I couldn’t stop imagining all day.

But guilt was pushing in from every corner, suffocating me. Logically I knew I hadn’t committed to anything with Oli yet, logically I knew that this is what dating was all about.

While my feelings were convinced this was wrong, my body had other ideas.

My body was ready to shut my brain up so it could enjoy the man before me.

So I nodded, shakily, letting him know that I was accepting what was transpiring between us.

His eyes darkened further, “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything.” His voice had dipped even lower, “I just want to see if there really is…”

“A spark.” I whispered.

“Yeah.”

His hands were suddenly on my ass, pulling me flush against him – against his erection. My breath hitched at the sudden motion, the sudden pressure between my legs, making my hands grab at his chest, threatening to elicit a whimper from me, but Mat was quiet; his eyes on me were focused, determined to stay collected even though the sexual tension had reached a boiling point.

One of his hands firmly travelling up my back, pulling me closer – pulling me in for a kiss.

Panic started to set in, but I didn’t get a chance to react before his lips connected with mine and my thoughts scrambled completely for a moment.

It wasn’t until I heard myself moan into his mouth that I came back, and I was just about to push him off of me, to tell him I can’t do this, maybe even confess that I already have feelings for his best friend, tell him that his best friend has feelings for me, when he pulled away, stepped out from between my legs and casually sat back down next to me.

I was stunned and breathless, but Mat was just smiling, pouring us fresh drinks.

“Well,” He said with a grin, handing me my refilled drink back to me, “Safe to say there’s a spark.”

He dinged his glass against mine, “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” I breathed, more confused than ever.

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

[beesinspades]

currently stuck in a vicious adhd circle of "has and wants to work on big bang fic, but wants to work on creechur fic more → can't work on creechur fic because has to work on big bang fic first" please brain let me out

[rainbowinbeigeboots]

chapter 7 when

god i hope soon when my brain decides to function LOL, but realistically uhhhh hopefully sometime next month! idk if it helps any in regards to a teaser for this chapter but so far i have a nice hotel scene planned, trying to figure out how include an EXTREMELY small/niche reference just for myself, and have a future chapter shoutout to the spirit of carly rae jepson for possessing me that’s a pivotal moment for eve already written so it will happen!!! 💖

[vicsnook]

Moving Everywhere But On | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 1659

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+

notes: Hey y’all! Happy New Year 🎆! Hope everyone is doing well and that your holidays were amazing!! I will try this year to regularly post Jake on Sundays as previously promised. Hope you enjoy this one and as always please don’t forget to like & reblog 🫶🏼

Moving was something you absolutely dreaded despite having done it your whole childhood due to your father’s navy career. However you thought you’d put those days behind you when you decided to date a doctor instead of a certain navy pilot. But oh how wrong you were as you watched your father and best friend load the boxes onto the truck from the house you’d once shared with your now ex-fiancé, Tom.

Setting down the key on the kitchen counter, you took one last look around what you once thought would be your future. Inevitably replaying the image of your neighbor and Tom fucking on the living room couch. Thankfully the horn of the moving truck snapped you out of the painful memory as you made your way out of the house and shut the door to that chapter, forever.

“You ready to do this, darlin’?” Jake asks quietly as you shut the truck door and settle into the seat, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours reassuringly as you weakly nod in response. A feeling of relief overtakes you as you catch sight of your dad in the moving truck following close behind you both.

—

The rest of the drive was uneventful, except for Jake’s attempts to cheer you up by singing off key. Your new apartment was small but to you it was exactly what you needed, a new beginning. Jake and your father set up your bed while you unpacked the living room which unsurprisingly didn’t take long since you’d sold a lot of your old things. All that was left to unpack was your kitchen, office, and the rest of your bedroom which you’d probably tackle tomorrow.

You waved your dad goodbye as he pulled out of the parking lot and joined Jake back up at the apartment. His back was to you and you watched quietly as he set up your nightstand, carefully putting your lamp and books in the same spot you had them before. You felt a tinge of regret for having turned him down all those years ago all because you didn’t want to deal with the Navy life and craved stability.

You’d loved Jake since the moment he sat next to you in Spanish class in high school and yet you gave it all up, just for everything to blow up in your face in the end. He must’ve sensed you looking since he turned towards you and shot you one of his signature half smiles making your heart flutter.

“You’re just gonna keep staring or are you going to help me out here?” He teases as you lend him a hand to help him up. The distance between your bodies becoming almost non-existent now. Backing up you stuttered out that you were going to shower, hurrying for the bathroom.

Leaning against the closed bathroom door you willed your heart to slow-down. 4 years was not enough to stop loving Jake Seresin and you were overcome with that currently. The hot water did little to soothe your thoughts about wanting to feel Jake’s lips on yours.

The cold air had you shivering for your towel as soon as you stepped out of the shower, only to realize you didn’t grab one. “Jake! Could you bring me a towel please?” You holler, but get no response. Peeking your head out the door you don’t see him either.

Figuring maybe he stepped out you have the lousy idea to make a run for the hall towel closet, only to stumble into Jake as soon as you open the door, his hand holding the towel you called for. Your eyes lock with his and you can feel your cheeks growing red with embarrassment as you take the towel from his outstretched hand and wrap yourself around it.

“Why didn’t you answer when I called for you?” You ask, trying to hide the nerves in your voice. Reminding yourself that it’s just Jake, which also seems to be the problem, that it is just Jake. “Sorry I wasn't thinking straight.” He shrugs, to which you nod and he puts one hand on the back of his neck which he only does when he’s nervous. The awkward silence growing thicker by the second but you can’t seem to snap out of it.

“Well, I should shower too, I left my phone in the living room so you can doordash us some food. You know the code.” He says, finally breaking the silence and turning around to go grab a towel before you can answer. The feeling of awkwardness was not something that you were familiar with around him but you try to shrug it off as you grab his phone to order food.

It’s not until Jake comes out of the bathroom with only a towel hanging around his waist that you realize you’re also still only wearing a towel. You can’t help but stare at his toned chest and muscular arms, longing to feel them under your hands and as he makes his way towards you, your breath catching in your throat.

“Be a doll and pass me my bag, sweetheart?” He asks coming to stand in front of you. His waist lining up to your face as you mentally curse yourself for choosing what feels like a very low couch. “Honey?” He takes your chin between his thumb and finger and turns your head up to look at him.

His gorgeous forest green eyes stare into yours and you can’t seem to form any coherent words. But at once you’re saved by the doorbell. Snapping back into reality you spring up from the couch, nearly falling over if it wasn’t for Jake catching you and steadying you in his arms. But you have no time to ponder about the action as the doorbell rings again.

You open the door and are grateful that the driver is now down the hall and had left your food on the doorstep. Jake’s still standing by the couch as you set the food down on the table, his eyes watching your every move. “Are you just gonna keep staring, Lieutenant?” You say playfully, hoping thebpet name still has the same effect it once did. His face turns up into that cocky smirk as he smoothly replies. “I thought you knew what happens when you play with fire, dolly.” Your flace flushes as you walk towards him, not stopping until you’re once again face to face with him.

Trying to seem confident you step impossibly closer to him, putting one hand on his chest before replying “Why don’t you teach me, Hangman?”

His hand grabs onto your waist and you know there’s no turning back. Maybe this is exactly what you need. “I don’t want to be just some rebound to you” He whispers, your lips nearly touching at the action. “You could never be a rebound Jacob, not when I never stopped loving you.” You reply, and you’ve never been more sure of anything as you close the space between you both.

His lips were softer than you remembered as he kissed you softly like you could break at any moment. You tugged on his hair causing him to grunt, granting your tongue access into his mouth. His hands squeezed your ass while you bit his bottom lip and you could feel yourself getting wetter as he pushed you against the wall.

You could see the hunger in his eyes as you pulled away and he went for that spot right under your ear that drove you crazy. The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to make him lift you up and have you wrap your legs around him.

He carefully walks over to the couch and sits down with you still on top of him and you rock back and forth on his cock as he swirls his tongue around your nipple. The friction of his cock on your clit feels heavenly but you want more, you need more.

“Jake, more, please,” You beg into his ear, his eyes gleaming at your request. “Are you still on birth control, baby?” He asks, as you continue to rock against his cock. “Mhmm” You moan in response and that’s all it takes for him to lift you up and line himself with your entrance.

He slowly leads you down, letting you get adjusted to his length. The feeling of him stretching you open is almost enough to send you over the edge. “You’re taking my cock so good, doll.” He praises, his accent making you swoon as you reach the hilt of his cock.

You dig your nails into his biceps as he begins to thrust up into you making you lean forward into him. “Fa-a-s-te-r” You manage to utter as his thumb presses on to your clit and his pace starts to increase.

Pleasure is washing over you, and you can feel your legs start to shake as he thrusts faster and harder into you. Moans and groans fill your apartment as you both reach for that high. “God baby you’re so tight, are you gonna cum for me?”

His words are enough to push you over the edge. Hunching forward onto his neck as he continues to thrust into you seeking his own release. “Fuck baby, you feel so good,” he grunts, you lift your head slightly and kiss his neck in response. No one could ever send you over the edge this quickly.

His legs trembled as he sloppily thrusted and reached his own high. Pulling back you caught his lips on yours, tenderly kissing him until you both pulled away for air. “It’s always been you Seresin, I’m sorry I was too stupid to accept that.” You whisper against his neck, he hugs you tighter to him before responding, “Nothing to be sorry for darlin’. We’ve got a lot of time left to make up for it. But how about we start by cleaning ourselves up and eating?”

“Absolutely. And how about round two after?” You answer cheekily, earning yourself a smack to the ass from the man you’re glad to never have moved on from.

taglist: @harperdoodle , @weirdothatwritess , @rosiahills22

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 6

So ever since my last update, I've gotten a new laptop because deadass the same day I posted chapter 5 like "oh hopefully I'll get it back soon," they told me my old acer aspire is so old they don't even make the parts for it anymore. This has nothing to do with the fic, I just thought it was funny.

Notes: still sfw, semi dysfunctional/controlling family dynamics (I assure you they will get progressively worse), ableism in the form of reader being coddled and patronized by his parents. Check masterlist for previous parts, will eventually make an actual masterlist for this fic.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

You did not immediately tell your parents about your interaction with Pantalone when you finally returned, as once again they were in the midst of an argument. Your mother’s scoldings about how your father knows better, and your father’s arguments about how you’re a grown man who should fend for himself by now could be heard the moment you stepped through the door. Colleen gives you an awkward, sympathetic smile as you shuck off your coat. Before the maid can hang it up, you fish the letter from your pocket, and seeing your name in the Guuji Yae’s handwriting fills you with nervous excitement once more. 

You can’t really hear the fighting from your study. If you try to listen, you can, but otherwise it is very peaceful. You open the letter again and set it next to your typewriter, while also tucking the briefcase with your manuscript under your desk. You proceed to load your typewriter, ready to type a response, when it occurs to you that maybe you should hand write this letter. Would it be disrespectful to just type a letter? Maybe. A handwritten letter is more personal, after all. 

By the time you finish your letter, there are six other letters crumpled up in your bin, and you hear your mother’s voice informing you that it’s dinner time. The tense atmosphere of dinner keeps you from talking, let alone telling your parents about Pantalone. You really don’t want to set off yet another argument with how much these two have grown apart. As horrible as it is to think or say, you will not be surprised if the word divorce comes up in their next fight, and that next fight is probably tomorrow. 

This tense silence continues the next day, and the day after that, until a full two weeks have passed where you have not heard a single argument. Not because your parents made up, mind you, but because they have barely spoken to each other. Nothing beyond standard small talk or informing the other person about meals or receiving something in the mail. The air is oppressive, and you try not to let it show how much it is starting to stress you out. Instead, you have been waiting patiently for a letter back from the Guuji, hoping to surprise them with some good news for once. 

(You’ve also been replaying your last interaction with Pantalone in your head, because you know you did not mishear him.)

The silence breaks when your father throws your bedroom door open one morning, when you are in the midst of getting changed out of your sleepwear. 

“You!”

You jump, having just put on your pants. Your face heats up in embarrassment. “Would it kill you to knock?” you snap. It’s not even ten. 

You hear your mother somewhere behind your father. “Darling, calm down.”

Your father storms inside and an envelope is shoved in your face. “Do you care to explain this?”

You step back and take the envelope. You rub your eyes, shoot your dad a dirty look, and read the envelope. That’s your name and address, but you don’t recognize the return address in the corner. The name, however, you do recognize, and your father does too.

“Why is it that I haven’t had contact with the Regrator in two weeks,” your father asks, “but when I finally get a letter back, it’s for you?”

“Yes, why is Pantalone writing to you?” your mother asks in turn. 

Your brow furrows, and with your father glaring daggers at you, you break the seal on the back of the letter. Before you can actually open it, your dad snatches the letter from you. He tosses the envelope aside and unfolds the paper within. 

“Hey!” You grab your father’s arm. “If you’re going to barge into my room, at least let me read my own mail!”

“There has to be some mistake,” your father says. “There’s no reason for the Regrator to talk to you.”

“While I disagree with his approach,” your mother says, “your father has a point.”

“Maybe if you let me read my mail, I could tell you,” you reply sarcastically. Your father rolls his eyes but hands the now crinkled letter back to you. You straighten it out and let your eyes scan over the words.

Your father’s voice is impatient. “Well?” 

You squint. “It’s an invitation.”

“An invitation?” your mother asks.

“What the hell for?” your father asks.

“An invitation for tea,” you answer, “for… tomorrow, at two.”

“Anything else?”

You flip the paper over. It’s blank. You flip it back over. “No, it’s just tea at two at his estate.”

“No, you fool,” your dad says, pulling the letter out of your hand again. “I meant if he mentions your sister or myself, because I find it hard to believe he’d invite you to his estate.”

You cross your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Your father means it’s odd that you would be invited over when you are not, ah, working with him,” your mother says, making up an excuse on the fly. “You’re not working with your father and sister, so if you were to be invited over, then that would include the rest of the family.” Though she’s out of your limited line of vision, you know she’s glaring at your father based on the way he averts his eyes from you.

“Then why is it addressed to him? It doesn’t address anyone else in the family.”

“I’m not sure, dear. Perhaps there’s been a mistake?”

“Pantalone would not make a mistake like this. Perhaps the post office lost our invites, but not his.”

“Or he just invited me,” you butt in.

Your father gives you a look. 

“Think about it,” you say, “if we all got an invite, surely mine would have said something about it, right? Hope to see you and your family, or something along those lines.”

“Perhaps mine would have it,” your father retorts, “as he’s my business partner.”

More like marriage partner at this point, you think and know better than to say. “You’re also assuming this has anything to do with work,” is what you say instead. “What if it’s just tea?”

“No, a man like him wouldn’t invite someone over for just tea,” your mother says. 

Your father goes to put your invitation in his pocket, but gives it back to you when your mom gives him a look. He clears his throat. “Well, we’ll have this sorted when we visit tomorrow.”

You blink. “Wait, what?” 

“We’re not going to just turn down this invitation,” your father says, as if you’re an idiot for not understanding what he was getting at. 

“We? We?”

“That’s right,” your mother chimes in, “we really shouldn’t go if we don’t know his intentions.”

“That’s not…” You groan, annoyed. You point at your father. “You aren’t on the invite.” You turn and point to your mother. “And we’ve talked about the coddling.”

Your mother shakes her head. “That was about when he visits us, I don’t want you alone at his estate.”

“No, no, we’re not getting into the semantics,” you say, “I have told you time and time and time again to stop treating me like I’m seven! I should be allowed to go have tea with someone else by myself.”

“Watch your tongue,” your father snaps, “and our decision is final. If you want to go to the Regrator’s for tea, then your mother and I are going as well.” He turns to walk off, and stops in the doorway. “And put a damn shirt on.”

The door slams shut, leaving you and your mother in your room. She offers you an apologetic smile, and gets the hint you want space when you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. Her exit is much quiet, a soft apology and a gentle closing of the door. 

It takes you a moment, but you manage to find the envelope your father carelessly tossed aside. It slid most of the way under your bed, only the corner of it is immediately visible. You pick it up and feel your heart thump in your chest.

So this is what your name looks like in his handwriting.

----

While the novelty of Pantalone’s social status has worn off, the estate that comes into view through the snowstorm is a reminder of his intimidating wealth. It’s a beautiful building, and significantly larger than your family home. Your eyes are glued to the sight of it through the covered sled’s window. You can also just see your mother looking at it as well through the reflection of the glass. 

“Remember what we talked about,” your father says, and you make a face of annoyance similar to the face your mother’s reflection makes. “Hey, are you listening?”

“Don’t touch, trip on, or break anything,” you reply, “and only speak when spoken to. I’m aware of the whole routine.”

“And watch the attitude.”

“And you remember what I told you,” you reply, not bothering to turn your head. “If it turns out Pantalone didn’t invite you over, you need to leave.”

“Look at me when you talk to me.”

There’s a thump. Your mother most likely gave your father a nudge with her foot. Silence takes up the last few minutes of the ride as it slows to a stop right outside the snowy steps. You slide over to the opposite end of your seat and open the door, sucking all the warmth out of the sled. You make no effort to wait for your parents before you step down from the stairs. The snow pelting you in the face diminishes your vision, so you only make it a few steps before you trip on the first step. You catch yourself before you tumble forward and smash your teeth into the stairs. 

You hear your mother’s voice from the sled. “Please be careful!” 

You shout back that you’re fine, and climb up the stairs. Pantalone must have just had the steps cleared off before the blizzard hit, as there’s no crunch beneath your feet, merely the puff of snowflakes puffing out of the way with each step you take. Your father calls for you to wait for them as you stand before the door. You grab one of the large knockers and give it a few hard knocks on the door.

You feel your father’s firm hand on your shoulder just as a gust of heat rushes out and envelops you. You find yourself standing face to face with an older gentleman dressed in pristine servant’s attire. The two of you lock eyes, and for a moment he offers a welcoming smile before he notices you’re not alone, then it becomes confusion.

“Oh, hello there,” he says, “this is a little unexpected.”

“We’re here for tea with the Regrator,” your father butts in before you can even open your mouth.

“I had assumed as much, but I was told we were expecting a single visitor,” the man says. He brings his gaze back to you. “Now, you fit the description, but these two–”

Somewhere behind the man, you hear Pantalone’s voice. “Fyodor, what’s going on? Why have you not let our guest inside?”

The man turns around to address his master. “Apologies, my lord, but there seems to be some sort of… misunderstanding?”

You hear heeled footsteps descending a flight of stares and across the floor before your host comes into view. You feel yourself salivate and swallow it down quickly. You’re so used to seeing him in mostly black clothing, so the white lace up shirt with puffy sleeves immediately catches your eye. It’s tucked into a pair of black corset pants, which you make a point to not look at either. His hair is not tied back, and the chain on his glasses seems different. Though he still has his rings, he’s not wearing his gloves. Even in more “casual” attire, the Regrator is the pinnacle of wealth and beauty.

This very beautiful man tilts his head at the sight of your parents, namely your father. “What are you doing here?”

“You… You invited us to tea,” your father says.

“No I didn’t.”

Your father is quiet, and you turn yourself to see the confusion on his face. “You sent an invitation, i-it had our address on it.”

“Yes, and I believe I put your son’s name on it, did I not?” Pantalone asks. When you turn back around to him, you find he’s looking right at you. 

“You did, b-but I presumed you… you forgot to mention us, or maybe the invitations for my wife and I got lost in the–”

Pantalone lifts his hand, silencing your father. “If that were the case, I would have either addressed it to your family as a whole on the envelope, or I would have mentioned it in the invitation itself. Likewise, I did not send this through the post office, I had one of my staff deliver it personally.”

“But, b-but I’m your business partner!”

Pantalone turns to you. “Did you invite them with you?”

You stumble on your words, feeling too humiliated to answer honestly. What’s worse, saying yes, or saying no, but your parents wouldn’t let you leave unless they came along like they were chaperoning a child’s first field trip or playdate? You manage a shake of your head, and fortunately Pantalone seems to understand your plight after having many interactions with your family.

He sighs, and steps aside. “You’ve already made the trip, and the weather is taking a turn for the worst,” he relents, “you may come in.”

Your father pushes past and marvels at the interior of Pantalone’s estate. Your mother gives you an assuring pat on your shoulder. Pantalone whispers something to Fyodor, who nods and goes to help your parents with their coats.

The door shuts behind you, and you turn to Pantalone. You clasp your gloved hands together and lower your voice. “I am so sorry, I tried to tell them–”

“I know,” he replies in a voice as soft as yours, “perhaps I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t think I would need to be more specific in the invitation.”

With that, Pantalone stands up and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Once you’re all settled, please follow me for a short tour on the way to the tea room.” He turns to Fyodor, who is carrying your parents’ coats. “Fyodor, please be a dear and let the chefs know to prepare some extra refreshments for our unexpected company.”

Fyodor nods, and you give him your coat before he leaves. Your mother is already hovering right next to you protectively, and Pantalone gives you a subtly sympathetic smile, which your mother seemingly interprets as an underlying threat judging by the way she wraps her arm around yours. You imagine your father is rolling his eyes.

The tour is short as promised, only staying in any given room long enough for Pantalone to state what the purpose of it is. You pass through the dining room, where Pantalone points out the doors to the kitchen, before you’re in a corridor passing by a ballroom entryway. You try to have a look at the oddly macabre paintings your host has displayed on the walls, but your mother is practically dragging you along so she can get this event over with quicker. You want to ask questions about what the chandelier in the foyer is made of, but your father already asked that in his never ending ramblings of praise for Pantalone and probably isn’t going to stop so you can actually ask the man anything.

Your father finally shuts up and your mother lets your arm go when the four of you step inside the tea room. Something you notice immediately is, while there are paintings on the walls, a table in the centre of the room, and a large cabinet with various tea sets, there is actually very little decor and furniture here. You passed by some sculptures and house plants and other miscellaneous extravagant pieces on the way, but the small room is oddly empty compared to the corridor just outside. 

When Pantalone takes a seat, your parents end up taking a seat on either side of him. Your father is immediately praising the barely furnished room, while your mother acts as barrier. As such, you end up seated across from him. On cue, you hear two people come in through the door behind you. You hear a soft squeaking, and a servant pushing a cart with a tea set on top of it. The porcelain teapot and cups have a vaguely floral pattern, with the handles shimmering with gold leaf. You jump when the second person, another servant, comes up beside you with a tray of food to place on the table. Your father marvels as they get to work setting the table, your mother politely thanks the staff, and you just sit still as your cup of tea is poured.

“This is quite lovely, Pantalone,” your father says for the millionth time, “really, I expect nothing less from you!”

Pantalone gives your father a smile, a polite gesture that does not reach his eyes. “I’m flattered.” When he looks your way, his smile seems fonder. “How about you? You seem to have something on your mind.”

“Oh! Um…” You lean back and glance around the room once more. “I was just… curious about your decor.”

Pantalone tilts his head curiously. “Oh? And what would you like to know?”

You hesitate to answer out of fear you would offend the man.

“Well? Out with it,” your father remarks.

“This room is a little bit… um…”

“Bare?” Pantalone finishes. “Yes, I had some of the furniture moved around in preparation for your arrival.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your eye condition,” he answers, “you said you used to trip on furniture because you didn’t see it, correct? I figured with a room this size, it would be safer to move some of the decor out of the room while you were visiting.”

“Oh, that’s… actually rather sweet,” you say, “b-but unnecessary. I’m not as clumsy as I used to be.”

“Ah, yes, my suit can attest to that fact.”

You chuckle.

Your father chimes in. “Yes, it’s better we avoid any more expensive accidents.”

Pantalone hums. “While I would rather avoid paying for a replacement or repair job, I was more focused on ensuring your son’s safety. I would hate for my guest to get hurt at an event I invited him to.”

You pick up on his passive aggressive comment, and your father does not. That, or he’s elected to ignore it. “Ah, that too,” your father says. He gestures to your mother. “I would have never heard the end of it if that were the case!”

Your father was expecting someone to laugh. He is ignored by Pantalone and gets glared at by your mother. You just grab a couple pastries, honestly wishing you had just turned down the invite altogether.

Your father clears his throat. “So, about that thing I-I had proposed a few weeks ago–”

“How is the book deal?” Pantalone asks you.

“O-Oh,” you stammer, not expecting him to bring up your book, “well, I’ve decided to go for it, and I’ve written back saying I would like to move forward with the deal. Now I’m just waiting for them to get back to me.”

Pantalone smiles and nods. “That’s lovely to hear.”

Your mother looks at you, confused. “What is he talking about?”

Fuck. You swallow, and nervously, sheepishly smile. “Right, um… I was, ah, saving this for when the deal was finalized, but my book might be getting published now.”

“By who?”

“... The Yae Publishing House.”

Your mother’s squeal could shatter porcelain. “The Yae Publishing House?! Sweetheart, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

You awkwardly laugh, avoiding Pantalone’s knowing gaze. “They’re just s-such a big deal, you know? I didn’t want to get your hopes up before I knew for certain they were going t-to publish the book.”

“Still, you could have at least told me you sent your book to them! Oh, goodness, I’m getting all worked up now. My sweetheart, being published by the Guuji Yae…”

Pantalone chuckles. “Yes, quite exciting. It warms my heart to see hard work being recognized.”

“I’m very excited,” your mother says, “he hasn’t told me what his new book is about, he keeps telling me to wait until it gets published. I was worried I’d never get to read it when your first deal was cancelled!”

You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “This one’s kind of, well, different from my usual writing. I wasn’t sure how people would react to it.”

“Your stories are lovely, sweetie,” your mother insists, “you should never worry about what your mother thinks because I will always support you.”

You hear your father lean over in his chair towards Pantalone, and in a room of four people, his whisper is very audible. “He was worried he would have to get a real job, haha.”

“Which would be difficult given my disability,” you add, “seeing as most jobs require you to have awareness of your surroundings, and my eyesight is only going to continue degrading.”

Your father glares, and clears his throat. “... It was a joke.”

“And it wasn’t very original.”

“You’re also one to talk, considering our little deal,” Pantalone remarks. Your mother looks at your father for an explanation, to which he just sips his tea, embarrassed. 

The rest of the afternoon isn’t less awkward. The momentary embarrassment does not stop your father from badgering Pantalone with questions about what he’s been doing the past two weeks (settling some financial matters in Liyue), and praising him for the pastries he’s provided. Pantalone answers out of politeness, but his responses grow shorter and shorter every time your father opens his mouth. Your mother just silently eats, disinterested in conversing with the Regrator. You try to engage in conversation with Pantalone, but despite glares from everyone at the table, your father continues to interrupt you or answer questions Pantalone could not have more clearly directed towards you. You also just keep your answers short, not wanting to divulge too much about your book or true thoughts in front of your parents. 

Your father pops the last cream puff in his mouth. He’s already eaten most of them. There is no more tea, bringing the meeting to a close.

Pantalone claps his hands together. “Well, this has been a meeting!”

“We appreciate the invitation, Lord Pantalone,” your father says.

“What invitation?” Pantalone asks. “Remember? You two never received an invite.”

“... Right.”

Pantalone leans forward, propping his head up in his hands. He’s looking right at you, and he smiles so sweetly. “Would you care to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly overstay our welcome.”

Pantalone nods, acknowledging your father. He then looks back at you. “So? Would you care to stay?”

“We just said no,” your mother says.

“That’s fine, you two are free to leave. I’m talking to your son.”

Your mother and father lock eyes, before your father turns back to Pantalone. “Wait, why are you asking him if he wants to stay, but not us?”

Pantalone sighs, and grins at your father. “Well, I think I’ve played host to you two long enough, so I’ll tell you honestly.” At that, Pantalone drops his smile. The atmosphere immediately grows tense as he speaks, his voice cold. “I invited your son to my home because I wanted to discuss his upcoming book over tea. I did not invite you over to discuss work matters on my day off. Now, I would like to have the discussion I cleared my schedule for, and I would like to do it with the guest I actually invited.”

Your father balks, while you feel your jaw drop to the table and your eyes go as wide as saucers. You slowly turn towards your mother, and she is immediately seething. She stands up, her chair scraping on the floor. Pantalone smiles at you once more.

“So will you be staying for dinner? I have many questions about your writing process.”

“I–”

“Absolutely not,” your mother snaps. She grabs your arm hard and attempts to pull you up to your feet. Your father is torn between being shocked over being called out for his behaviour, humiliated for being scolded like a child, and incensed that your invitation did not extend towards him. Your mother tugs your arm again, and you stand up so you can better shake her off your arm.

“We’re leaving,” your father says. “Come along, you two.”

You brush some crumbs off your lap and sit back down.

Your father shakes your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me? I said we’re leaving.”

“Have fun,” you reply dryly, “I’ll be home late.”

Pantalone absolutely beams. “Oh, wonderful!”

You flinch at your mother’s shrill voice. “No, you’re not! I am not leaving you with this disrespectful–”

“Violka, he has made up his mind,” your father growls. You feel him glaring daggers into the back of your head, and do not move. You hear your mother start to protest, but then the door shuts behind you.

Pantalone lifts a small plate up off the table. On it is the final little piece of cherry bublanina. He offers it to you with a sly smirk, like forbidden fruit. 

With this in mind, you take it.

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Chapter 10)

Summary: Love on Tour comes to an end, and new relationships begin in Italy.

Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine

CW: Smut

This is the final chapter of this main story! But don't worry, I have lot's of plans for blurb/ one shots. Check out my last post here for more details about that. And please send me requests!!

Thank you to everyone who has read this story! It's the first things I've ever published like this and the feedback has truly been wonderful. I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

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The second week of traveling Europe and going to shows is just as wonderful as the first. Maybe even more so. You’re more comfortable with everyone, having become friends with the whole band and a fair number of crew members. Things have calmed down slightly, and you learn that there was a lot of extra craziness surrounding the Slane and Wembley shows. Everyone has a bit more free time now, including Harry.

You, Harry, Sarah, and Mitch hang out a couple of times all together. Each pairing also spends some quality one on one time together. Sarah made plans for the two of you to get massages as well and mani pedis during a day off in Cardiff. You and Mitch have lunch together followed by him teaching you some new skills on guitar. Harry had found a hiking trail he wanted to try so the two of you do that together and have a picnic.

Mitch and Sarah each go out with Harry, and have a date just the two of them. After each outing you all tell each other what you’d done but don’t share all of the details. It doesn’t seem necessary. There is an inherent trust that you all have, and this allows you all to keep some of the individual moments special. You’d realized that in a relationship with this many people, each individual pairing needs to be fostered.

The four of you are able to hang as a group two times that week. The first time, you all go for a walk in Cardiff together and have lunch. The next day you have a movie night in Harry’s hotel room. Both times are very casual, and the conversation about Harry officially entering the relationship is never brought up. There’s an understanding that things are to go back to normal until tour ends.

You enjoy the last three shows you are at. There is a chance you’ll be back for the final show in Italy, but nothing is set in stone, so you keep that to yourself. You wander around the stadium with Brad again for the two Cardiff shows and are permitted to sit in front of the barrier during the show in Belgium. You take in every moment in Werchter, ignoring that this time tomorrow you’ll be back home. You latch on to Mitch and Sarah the second the show ends.

The three of you fight sleep that night, staying up too late talking, kissing, exploring each other’s bodies once again. You wake up wrapped in their arms and continue the activities from the night before. You spend time simply pleasing each other with your hands and mouths until your alarm goes off, signaling you need to start getting ready for the airport.

You shower, get dressed and make sure everything is packed. There are about 15 minutes left before your car leaves for the airport, and you hear a knock at the door. Mitch goes to answer and a moment later he walks back, Harry following him.

“I just wanted to say good-bye,” he says. “It truly has been wonderful getting to know you these past couple of weeks.”

“I’ve had a great time hanging out,” you reply.

“Will I see you again soon?” he asks.

“I hope so. I’m working on it.”

“Good,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s everything you’ve come to expect from Harry’s hugs- comforting, long, feels like home. You say good-bye to him before pulling back, and soon after he leaves so that you have alone time with Mitch and Sarah.

You’ve been holding up better than when they left you a few weeks prior, but as the time to depart draws closer, your eyes start to fill with tears. You look up, trying to blink them away, but it’s no use.

The second they notice Mitch and Sarah wrap their arms around you. For a few minutes no one speaks. You all just stay in this group hug, comforting one another and soaking up the contact. Your phone buzzes, and you have a text from Pete saying he’s available to drive you when you’re ready.

Sarah steps back, allowing Mitch to pull your lips up and meet his. “I love you,” he says against your mouth before moving to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll miss you baby.”

“I’ll miss you too, Mitch. I love you so much.” After one more kiss you turn from him to Sarah who immediately pulls you in tight.

“I love you sweetheart. And we’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, now so emotional that you’re having trouble getting the words out. Your “I love you” is barely a whisper, but she hears. Her hands rub your back and she kisses you just like Mitch had- first your lips, then your forehead. You keep your eyes closed, committing every detail of this interaction to memory so you can hold on to these feelings as long as possible.

You take a deep breath and finally break the hug. You grab your bags, dry your tears, share one more simple peck with each of them and walk out of the room.

Pete is waiting in the lobby along with Madi who says, “Hope you don’t mind me tagging along. A friend of mine is landing soon, and I wanted to be there to pick her up.”

You’re happy to have Madi’s company, so you reply, “I don’t mind at all!” and you give her a genuine smile. It was hard saying good-bye to Mitch and Sarah, which is why you had decided it should be done in private and not at the airport, but having Madi in the car with you raises your mood. It makes you realize that in the past two weeks you have made a lot of new friends, which is something so difficult in your adult life.

You spend much of the flight home thinking about all those friendships, the moments you spent with the band and the crew. Though you are sad to leave, you also feel happier than you have in a long time.

You text Mitch and Sarah once you get home and even though it’s the middle of the night for them, they both reply immediately. It fills you with warmth to know that they stayed up until they knew you were home safe.

*****

The next few weeks are just like those first weeks of tour, except this time you’re on the phone with more than just Mitch and Sarah. You speak to Harry every couple of days, and occasionally get to FaceTime with other members of the band when they hang out together.

A week after you leave you find out that Harry has rented out a number of homes in Italy for the week following the final show. Much of the band and crew would be staying there for a relaxing vacation after these stressful months. At first Mitch and Sarah say that they’re not going to stay, that they want to fly back to you as soon as it’s done, but you tell them not to come back right away.

You tell them that baby Ryan’s grandparents are planning to visit, and that you’re going to get more time off that week. You assure them that you can fly out at least for the second half. What you don’t tell them is that you’re actually planning to get to Italy just in time for the final show. Pete’s been helping you coordinate the details, ensuring that no one else knows. You’re not sure if he’s an incredibly loyal person, or if he simply doesn’t care about your personal life, but he’s a lifesaver for helping you without asking any questions.

The weeks end up flying by. You and Ryan spend as much time outside running around or swimming in the pool as possible. You’re keeping so active that you’re exhausted by the time you get home each night. While tiring, it comes in handy because before you know it, you’re packing for a week in Italy.

Keeping your travel plans a secret from Mitch and Sarah is difficult, especially when they call you while you wait at the airport. You run to find a quiet corner, praying no overhead announcements get picked up by the phone. You keep things light, a normal Friday night phone call before they head to bed. When they hang up you breathe a sigh of relief, as it seems they didn’t figure out your whereabouts.

This trip is definitely more stressful than the last. It’s not a direct flight and the second leg is delayed. Once you land you still have to take two trains, and due to you arriving late you miss your original departure. You get new tickets sorted and grab lunch to enjoy on the way. Finally, you arrive in Reggio Emilia, but Pete is no longer able to pick you up, since he has other jobs assigned to him. He sends another crew member, Erin, which leads to a moment of confusion since you hadn’t met her before and didn’t have a way to contact her. It takes a while but you eventually find her in the pickup area.

It's nearly 6 PM by the time you make it to the stadium. Erin ends up being a literal godsend and shows you a place where you can quickly freshen up and get changed. She also takes care of your luggage and leads you down the hall to the band dressing room.

Luckily the door is open, so you walk right in. Ariza is the first to notice, shouting, “Hey! She’s back!” which alerts everyone else to your presence.

You’re looking right at Mitch and Sarah, and you can tell the exact moment they realize who Ariza is talking about. You blink and the next thing you know Mitch has wrapped his arms tight around your waist to pick you up and spin you in a circle. He quickly puts you down and lets go, not wanting to be too obvious in front of the whole band.

Sarah hugs you next, tucking her face into your shoulder and pressing a kiss there knowing that your hair is blocking the intimate gesture. You’re then pulled into hugs by the rest of the band as well as some crew members who pass by.

After a short conversation with the band, they turn to continue getting ready. There’s definitely a different atmosphere in the room than usual, and you know everybody is dealing with their mixed emotions about this being the final show.

“Do you think there’s any chance I can say hello to Harry before the show?” you ask Mitch.

“We can go check,” he replies, “but I’m not sure if he’ll want to see people right now or be alone.”

“Of course.”

The three of you walk down the hall and Sarah gently knocks on the door. You’re standing behind her and Mitch, and so Harry doesn’t notice you when he opens the door.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” he says with a smile.

“Brought a surprise,” Sarah says before stepping to the side.

The second he sees you his eyes light up. He pulls you in for a hug, one arm secure around your waist while the other holds the back of your head. You stay like that for a full minute before he pulls back and ushers the three of you into his dressing room.

He sits in his chair, gesturing that the three of you take the couch. You sit in between Mitch and Sarah who each take one of your hands in theirs, still in slight disbelief that you’re there.

“I thought you weren’t coming for another few days,” Harry states.

“Yea, why’d you lie?” Sarah asks with a smile.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure this would work out. I didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up just in case I didn’t make it. And I barely did. I was supposed to get here hours ago.”

“What happened?”

“Typical travel nonsense, nothing to worry about. Now tell me, how are you all feeling?”

Everyone is quiet for a minute. Harry speaks up first, saying, “I’m feeling sad that it’s ending. And proud of what we accomplished. It’s very bittersweet.” He pauses and the others nod their heads in agreement. “And I’m also feeling very hopeful. I will say I’m glad to have something to look forward to.”

You give him a confused look, not exactly sure what he’s talking about. He continues, “I mean if the offer is still there. For me to join you all.”

It clicks in your mind and your expression changes immediately.

Mitch reassures him quickly, “Of course the offer is still there. We want you to be a part of this Harry. You’re so important to us, and if we can make this work, I think we’ll all be extremely happy.”

Harry visibly relaxes in front of you, a content smile spreading across his face. This moment of peace is short lived as there is another knock on the door. Pete is there alerting everyone that it’s almost time for Wet Leg to open the show.

“I should go, I want to talk to them before they start,” Harry says.

You all get up and you turn to give Harry another hug before leaving, as you know you likely won’t see him again before the show starts. You lean in to say, “I am incredibly proud of you. Everything you’ve done is amazing. And I’m very happy to see what the next chapter brings for you, and for all of us together.”

When you pull back you see a hint of tears in his eyes. He blinks them away before looking back at you. He brings one hand up to rest on the side of your face and then hesitates. He moves forward slightly, your eyes meeting and his lips a mere inch from yours. At the last second, he seems to stop himself, and you feel his lips press against your cheek.

He pulls away to press a kiss to Mitch and Sarah’s cheeks as well, and you’re all blushing when you walk out of the room.

After a brief stop in the band dressing room, you all head out to watch Wet Leg. Sarah and Mitch are more reserved, standing together, Mitch’s arm around Sarah’s waist. A part of you wishes you could be like that in public, but you’re honestly just happy to watch them be adorable. Plus, you know the fans are loving how cute they’re being. You dance with Madi, Elin, Ariza, and Pauli and have a wonderful time.

Once Wet Leg is done you join the people who are congratulating them. After a little while you make your way to the band’s room again so you can see Mitch and Sarah before they go on. You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. They heard your words to Harry earlier and they know you’d be saying the same to them if you had privacy.

You use your all access pass to its limits during the show, moving around to wherever you’ll get the best views without blocking any of the fans or getting in the crews’ way.

You’re mesmerized from the first moment everyone steps on stage. Harry looks amazing in his silver outfit, and you love the denim jumpsuits on the band. You practically melt every time Harry speaks in Italian. The extra songs are so special, and you barely hear the Two Ghosts intro leading to Falling because the crowd is screaming so loud.

At one point you find yourself with Brad, James Corden and a few others mixing in with the fans. Everyone loses their minds when they do the full version of Best Song Ever, including you.

You cheer extra loud for everyone when Harry introduces the band. Fine Line nearly brings you to tears. The piano piece that Harry wrote to play as the final song truly did bring you to tears. It was so beautiful and a perfect ending to the tour.

Everyone takes their final bows. Harry walks across the stage, thanking all of his fans before moving back to the center. He takes it all in, finally falling to his knees because he is so overwhelmed with emotions. You glance at Mitch and Sarah, now standing together with arms wrapped around each other. They’re watching him and you can see the love and admiration in their eyes. They’re just as proud of him as everyone else.

As soon as they walk backstage you and the rest of the family and friends head there as well. Immediately you’re met with celebratory chaos. For a solid half hour there’s cheering, shouting, dancing. Finally, everyone starts breaking away to get changed. After everyone is ready you all head over to a nearby club to properly celebrate the end of tour.

The place Harry chose is perfect. Downstairs in a small dining room, quiet music playing, and delicious Italian food set up along one wall. Upstairs is the complete opposite. It’s darker, there’s loud music, and a bar is set up on every wall of the room.

After scoping out the place Mitch simply says, “food” so you join him and Sarah at the buffet. The three of you are joined at a table by Madi and two of her friends. The food is delicious. Your family may be Italian, but they’ve never made anything this good.

Once you’re all satisfied you head upstairs. It’s gotten extremely crowded, and you have to weave your way through people to get to the bar. Sarah orders for everyone since she has the loudest voice out of the trio. You smile as she hands you your favorite.

For the next hour or so you dance, drink, sing along to the music, and have a great time. It’s been years since you’ve let loose like this, and you’re enjoying the freedom of it. For the most part you stick with Mitch and Sarah, but you also spend time hanging out with other band or crew members.

You find yourself lost in the crowd after Pauli leaves the dance floor to head to the bathroom. A moment later a man you don’t recognize walks up to you.

While the party is mostly for all the people who worked on the tour, there are also others there that you haven’t met. Some are crew members you haven’t had the chance to talk to, and some are friends, family members, or industry contacts that got an invite because of the status they hold.

“Hey, I’m Ricky,” he says, holding his hand out to you.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you reply while quickly shaking his hand. You don’t necessarily want to talk to him, but you were always taught to be polite.

“Great party huh?” he asks, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, yea, it’s pretty cool,” you reply, looking around for someone that you know but not being able to see anyone. You can’t explain it, but something about this guy has you feeling uncomfortable.

“What are you drinking? I can get you a refill.”

“Thank you but I’m alright.”

“Yea it’s getting late huh. Maybe we could get out of here, have another after party of our own.” And there it is. You’ve been hit on a couple of times before and you never know how to respond.

“No, I think I’m just going to find some of my friends.” You turn and try to walk away but he grabs your wrist to keep you there. The second his skin touches yours you start to panic. You’re not fully freaking out, figuring he wouldn’t try something in a room full of people, but what if he’s able to get you alone?

“I could be your friend.” If you weren’t so worried about what he might do, you’d be rolling your eyes at that awful line and the way he thought that would actually work on you.

“That’s okay, I’m all set on friends at the moment. Now please let go of me.”

His other hand slides to your hip, gripping tightly and he leans in to say, “Oh c’mon babe, don’t play so hard to get. It’s a night for celebrating. Let’s have some fun.”

Your panic kicks up a notch at how close he is, and how tightly he’s holding on to you. It’s becoming more obvious he’s not going to take no for an answer, and you’re desperately trying to think of ways to get away from him, or at the very least, stay in the crowded party room until someone finds you.

He steps more into your space and your mind goes blank with fear. Suddenly there’s a hand on the small of your back and you jump at the touch. “Shh, love, it’s just me,” you hear Sarah say and take a deep, relieved breath. You’re finally free from his hold and you lean into Sarah who wraps her arm tight around your waist.

You look up and see Mitch leaning over Ricky, talking so low that you can’t hear him, but whatever he says works and the man walks away looking both embarrassed and afraid. Mitch takes a deep breath before turning to you. He cups your face in his hand and asks, “Are you okay?”

Your eyes are wide with leftover fear and panic as you meet his, but you nod. “I’m okay,” you say quietly, but they’re both close enough to hear you.

“Okay. Good. Do you want to leave and go back to the house?”

You shake your head no. “I really don’t want to end the night on that note. Can we stay a little longer?”

“Yea, baby, whatever you want.”

“But just stay with me, okay?”

“Of course,” Sarah says.

Mitch adds, “We’re not leaving your side for a second.”

You take another minute to collect yourself and put a smile back on your face before sliding your hand into Sarah’s and leading her to the dance floor. At first, you’re not as into it as before, going through the motions rather than fully dancing. Eventually the rest of the band joins in and you feed off their positive vibes. By the time people start leaving an hour or so later you’ve basically forgotten about Ricky.

After another little while most of the people have gone. The music is turned down and the lights are still dim but brighter than before. Mitch leads you and Sarah over to one of the bars, where Harry now seems to be sitting by himself, a new drink in hand.

You had lost track of Harry an hour or so before, and it seems he had spent much of that time in this location. You’ve never seen him drunk before, and while he’s certainly not wasted, he’s not sober either. He has a sort of a lost, sad puppy look on his face.

“You alright man?” Mitch asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yea, mate. I’m good,” Harry replies in a tone that indicates he’s definitely not as good as he says.

 Mitch gently takes the glass from his hand and places it on the bar and says, “I think it’s time to go. They’re starting to clean everything up.”

“I don’t want to go,” Harry replies. A beat later he continues, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart breaks at the sadness in his voice and you share a look with Mitch and Sarah. You know they feel the same.

“You’re not going to be alone, love,” Sarah says gently. Harry looks up at her, not understanding. “We’re coming with you. Tours over. We’re all going to be together. And that can start tonight. Does that sound alright to you?”

His face lights up at this news. He nods and looks between the three of you, seeing smiles on all of your faces.

“Come on, let’s get going,” Mitch says, wrapping an arm around Harry and supporting him out to the car. Harry leans heavily on him, but you think this has less to do with being unsteadily drunk and more to do with seeking comfort from the physical touch. You know that’s what he’s doing because you’re doing the same with Sarah.

A large black Chevy Suburban is waiting outside for your group. You and Sarah climb into the back row and Mitch and Harry take the middle. You try to stay awake for the drive, but it turns out you’re heading straight to the beach villa which is two hours away. You fight sleep for the first few minutes, trying to watch the scenery outside, but Sarah sees what you’re doing. She knows that between working all day Friday and then immediately traveling to the show, you likely haven’t slept in close to 40 hours.

Her arm wraps around you and her hand presses gently on the side of your head. “Sleep my love,” she says. You stop trying to fight it and instead melt into her side, your head resting on her shoulder. You fall asleep immediately.

The sun is starting to rise by the time you arrive at the house. The others had all dozed off as well but wake up when you pull into the driveway. You, however, snuggle closer to Sarah, refusing to open your eyes. Mitch looks back and sees the predicament and says to Sarah, “Go in with Harry, I’ll take care of her.”

Sarah moves you so that you’re leaning against the window instead of against her. Mitch lowers the middle row of seats so that Sarah can get out and so he can reach you. He carries you into the house and finds the other two in the bedroom. Harry is setting out some of his clothes for everyone.

“I don’t think they knew where to bring your bags. We’ll get them here in the morning, but you can borrow these for now.” Mitch lays you on the bed and takes off your clothes from the day, pulling a large t-shirt over your head to cover you.

“If you guys want you can have this room, I’ll sleep in the other one,” Harry says.

Mitch and Sarah share a confused look. “Harry,” Sarah starts. “We were planning on you staying with us here. So that we’re all together.”

“Will we all fit?”

“Of course we will. Y/N typically sleeps on top of one of us anyway so technically she doesn’t take up any room,” Mitch says with a fond smile.

They climb into bed with you, Sarah next to you on one side with Harry on the other. Mitch checks the doors are locked before turning off the light and getting in next to Harry. Everyone falls asleep within minutes.

You wake up to bright sunlight in an unfamiliar room. You’re laying on top of someone, a male someone, but it isn’t Mitch. You think about everything you remember from the previous night, and panic. The only thing that comes to mind that could explain the current situation would be if Ricky had come back and somehow got you to go home with him.

You quickly sit up, moving so suddenly that you nearly fall off of the bed. Sarah catching you is the only reason you don’t fall to the floor. Seeing her is enough to break through the panic, and your brain finally wakes up enough to realize what’s going on.

You weren’t sleeping on Mitch, but he is right next to you. It was Harry underneath you. You’re embarrassed by your reaction, and disappointed that you ruined what should’ve been a sweet moment.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

“No! Not at all. I’m fine, I just got confused for a minute. There was a guy last night who was hitting on me and not taking no for an answer and when I woke up in a new place, I got scared thinking I was with him. Just freaked out for a second.”

“Who was it?”

“I think he said his name was Ricky.”

“I don’t know a Ricky. He must be one of the people management insisted we invite for networking. I can get the guest list, figure out exactly who he is if you want. Get him fired or something.”

His protectiveness has you feeling incredibly cared for, but you assure him that it’s fine.

“Can we just redo that?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” Sarah says.

“Redo the start of the day. It’s the first time all four of us are waking up together and I ruined it!”

“You did not ruin anything Y/N,” Mitch says. “You expressed real emotions, okay? We’ve talked about this; you can’t feel guilty for having feelings.”

“I know, I know! I’m not trying to ignore my feelings. But I want today to be a happy day. And I want to start it right. So can we please forget all that and redo?”

“Yes, love,” Sarah says. “We can start again if that’s what you’d like.”

“Thank you!” You crash into Harry, pushing him back so he’s once again laying down with you on top of him.

You lift your head off his chest to meet his eyes. “Good morning darling,” he says, and you smile as you say the same to him. You then turn to Mitch and Sarah and they each wish you good morning and place a kiss on your lips.

There’s a moment where no one knows what to do next, but Mitch makes a decision. He leans down so he’s level with Harry. Their eyes meet and slowly they inch their faces closer together. Finally, their lips meet. It’s a small press of their lips, chaste, almost domestic, like it’s something they’ve been doing to greet each other every morning for years.

When they pull back there’s a new light in Harry’s eyes. He looks happy and peaceful, like he’s been waiting for this forever. He turns his head, and since you’re still on top of him you think it’s your turn to properly greet him. But Sarah leans in, capturing his lips with her own. Mitch chuckles as you pout, but the expression quickly fades away as you watch the two of them.

While the kiss with Mitch was one of familiarity, and rekindling a romance, this is two people exploring each other for the first time. After years of friendship and working together, they now get to come together in this new way. They take a minute to get lost in one another, and you smile as you hear soft sighs from both of them.

They break apart and Harry looks to you. He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks and you move so close that your noses brush and you can feel his soft exhale on your skin.

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly, and you whisper “yes” before crashing your lips to his. His fingers slide through your hair, holding you close to him as his lips slot against yours. It’s a short kiss that has you craving more, but as you pull away you know it’s perfect for the moment.

“I want to have a proper date with you all,” Harry says.

“We’d love that,” Sarah answers.

“Tonight. I don’t want to waste another minute.”

The conversation is interrupted by knocking at the front door. You move so that Harry can get up and answer it. He walks back a minute later and lets you guys know that your luggage was just dropped off. Hearing that makes you realize how long it’s been since your last shower and so you open your bag and grab what you’ll need.

Everyone takes turns showering and getting ready. Once you’re done you realize you’re starving and look at the clock. You’re shocked to see it’s already past 2 in the afternoon. You head to the kitchen and see Harry making sandwiches for everyone.

“Anything I can help with?” you ask.

“Got a bunch of fruit in the fridge, can you help me cut that up?”

“Absolutely!”

You get to work, natural light streaming through the windows of the beautiful kitchen. The four of you sit down for lunch and then enjoy the afternoon sitting out by the pool. Luckily the house is set away and is completely private, allowing you all to be yourselves without fear of fans or paparazzi seeing.

By 5 o’clock you’re all inside getting dressed for the date. Harry had planned it all and told you to dress nice, but casual. You’re a bit confused but settle for a blue and white sun dress. You walk downstairs and see not only Harry, Sarah, and Mitch, but two other people as well.

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Claudio and Mia. They’re going to be cooking dinner for us all tonight,” Harry says to introduce you. You shake their hands and say hello and you realize the date Harry has planned.

It’s perfect. A wonderfully cooked Italian meal here at the villa. There’s no risk of you all being spotted or overheard, and you’re free to have a true first date. If you’d all gone out, then you’d have to be careful about everything you say and do, but that’s not the case here.

The four of you make your way out to the patio and immediately open a bottle of wine, Harry filling everyone’s glasses. A few minutes later Mia brings out the first appetizer, a caprese salad that must be made with the freshest ingredients you’ve ever tasted. Next, she brings out a fig and goat cheese crostini, some of which are topped with prosciutto that makes your mouth water.

Dinner is just as delicious, homemade pasta topped with a sauce that is both decadent and light, bursting with flavor. After dinner, while you’re sharing the second bottle of wine, Claudio and Mia come out one last time. They inform you all that they are heading home, and dessert is plated in the kitchen whenever you’re ready.

You thank them profusely, telling them how much you loved everything, and Harry walks them out. He comes back and the four of you are once again alone. While dinner conversation had been quite casual, everyone learning more about each other, it starts to get a bit deeper.

“How exactly will this all work?” Harry asks.

“Well, obviously communication is the most important thing here,” Sarah replies. “Everyone needs to be honest and open about anything they’re feeling. If we hide things from each other that will create problems.”

“And what about publicly? We can’t really go and tell the fans all four of us are together.”

Mitch answers this time saying, “No but we could just say that you and Y/N are together. She’s been seen enough with us, people probably have assumed by now she’s our friend. You’d say we introduced the two of you and you hit it off. And because she’s our friend it would make sense for all of us to be seen together.”

“Lots of double dates in our future,” Sarah says with a wink.

Harry turns to you and asks, “Are you okay with that? Dating me publicly?”

“I am. I know that it’ll probably come with some pushback from fans and things like that, but I really think this could work. And we’ll all be happy.” Harry leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s innocent enough and first, just a couple of quick pecks.

He pulls back and his eyes meet yours. There’s a moment where he watches you, his gaze intense, and the next thing you know his lips are back on you. Even though the kiss is firm, his lips feel wonderfully soft against yours as he takes control of the kiss. You feel his hand move to your thigh and you gasp, opening your mouth and allowing for his tongue to enter.

“Maybe we should head inside,” Mitch suggests. You bite back a whine as Harry pulls away, already missing the feeling of his lips. Everyone stands and heads inside to the bedroom. It honestly should feel weird, the group of you moving in near silence, but the energy is one of excited anticipation.

You pause once inside the room, unsure of what to do next. There are so many options, too many choices, and you do not want to be the one making any. You look to Mitch, who sees the hesitation from all of you, and he takes control of the situation.

“Harry and Y/N, lay next to each other,” he says. You both follow his directions as he turns to speak with Sarah. You’re only left wondering what their plan is for a moment before they also climb on the bed, Mitch straddling Harry while Sarah does the same to you.

She leans in to kiss you, her tongue sliding in immediately. She swallows the whine you let out, and all you can think of is her. It’s been over a month, and you’ve missed them all so much, you’ve been starving for their touches.

After a little while (truly you have no idea how long) you feel Mitch’s hand pick yours up and he places it on Harry’s thigh. A second later you feel Harry’s hand on you. It starts moving higher on your leg, sliding under your skirt. Sarah shifts only so that you can spread your legs a bit but continues to keep her lips on yours.

Harry’s hand moves again, this time to press two fingers to your clit over your underwear and you’re gasping in pleasure at this touch alone. You automatically grab his thigh and realize that your hand hasn’t moved since Mitch placed it there. You decide to follow Harry’s lead and slide it up his thigh. You and Harry let out matching moans as you finally grip Harry’s hard length over his shorts.

You feel Harry pull away for a second before he slips his fingers under your panties to touch you directly. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being touched so intimately. Summoning confidence that you didn’t know you possess, you slide your hand under his layers of clothing. There’s a moment where you hesitate, unsure if it’s okay to touch him directly. He senses your inner debate and guides your hand to his cock, letting you know it’s absolutely okay with him.

You grip your fist around his length and pump him a few times. The noises he makes only turn you on more. Your other hand travels down to Sarah’s leg, and you move under her skirt and waste no time sliding your fingers into her underwear to rub through her folds.

She’s soaking, and you easily push two fingers inside her.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans before starting to leave love bites along your neck. She pulls back and looks to her side, saying, “Mitch, switch with me.”

He gives Harry one last deep kiss before pulling away from him. Sarah gently pushes your fingers out of her so she can move to Harry’s lap. “Are you clean?” she asks him as they help each other out of their clothes.

“Yes, got checked a couple weeks ago, haven’t been with anyone since.”

“Good,” she says, running her entrance above the tip of his cock. “Is this okay?” she asks him.

“Please, yes,” he practically begs, and she sinks onto him. You’re watching them so intently that you don’t notice Mitch at first. That changes the second he pulls your panties off and his hard cock grazes your sensitive clit.

He brings his hand to your entrance, pushing in one finger at a time to open you and ensure you’re ready for him. A moment later his fingers are gone and you feel his cock lining up. His eyes meet yours in a silent question and you nod your head, wrapping your legs to bring him closer to tell him that you want this, want him desperately.

He slowly pushes inside you and you let out a broken moan at the feeling of being filled for the first time in over a month. You pull Mitch’s face down to yours, having realized that you’ve barely had the chance to kiss him all weekend, and you need to remedy that immediately.

The time that follows is both blissful, and a bit confusing. Everyone’s hands are traveling over any limb they can find, kisses being pressed against any bit of bare skin.

You and Harry are the first to come, nearly simultaneously while his tongue is sliding against yours. A moment later you hear the cries that can only mean Sarah has followed the two of you. Finally, you feel Mitch’s thrusts stutter as he finishes inside you.

Everyone comes down from their high, Sarah pulling off and laying next to Harry. Mitch moves to pull out of you but you hold him close and whisper, “Not yet, please.”

“Okay, baby, I’m here,” he answers, leaning down so that you can tuck your face into his neck. After a couple minutes you release your hold on him. Sarah has already snuck out to grab a couple of damp washcloths from the bathroom and she helps everyone clean up.

You all get ready for bed, checking in that everyone is okay with what just happened. Not one of you has any complaints or uncomfortable feelings, and you fall asleep content that the four of you will work just fine together.

The rest of the week in Italy is absolutely perfect. Your group has plenty of time to spend together and your personalities fit together wonderfully. There are a few more discussions regarding the dynamics of the relationship which helps you all feel secure with one another.

During the middle of the week Harry rents out a couple of boats and you all spend the day on the water. Gemma and a few others join you and it is absolute perfection.

At one point Harry wanders to the kitchen area and a moment later Sarah follows him. While he’s been enjoying the day as much as everyone else, she can tell he’s bothered by something and is determined out figure out what it is.

They talk for a few minutes while making drinks for everyone, and after a beat of silence Sarah finally asks, “What is it Harry?”

“Not sure what you mean. I’m fine.”

“No you’re not love, something’s bothering you.”

He takes a deep breath and says, “I know there’s paparazzi watching us. And other people are here. And I guess I am used to hiding a lot of my life but this time feels different. I don’t want to hide our relationship.”

Sarah places a comforting hand on his arm and says, “I completely understand. I know it’s not ideal that we can’t all be together publicly, but if you’re ready, nothing is stopping you from being with Y/N in front of the camera. Whatever comes from that, we’ll make it work.”

Harry smiles, eased by Sarah’s words of wisdom.

They walk back to the main area where the rest of you are hanging out and Harry sits down next to you, closer than he usually would in public. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you give him a look. He can tell that you’re confused by the gesture, but not mad or uncomfortable.

He leans in and quietly asks, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

“Of course you can.”

“I mean, in front of everyone. With paps watching over there.”

“Yes Harry. That’s perfectly fine with me,” you answer with a smile.

He cups your face, pulling you close to him. He hesitates with his lips mere centimeters away and you whisper “It’s okay, Harry.” A millisecond later his lips crash against yours. He presses firmly against you, a series of chaste kisses on your mouth, nose, and forehead. When you look up you see everyone watching the two of you.

Mitch and Sarah are looking over, warm smiles on their faces. After a beat, Gemma jumps up and rushes over to give the two of you a hug. “I told mum weeks ago you two would be perfect!”

The rest of the day is absolutely wonderful. After sailing in the sun for the afternoon you all head back for dinner at a beautiful restaurant.

You, Harry, Mitch, and Sarah get to the house just after sunset. Immediately you fall into bed, not wanting to waste another moment. You explore each other’s bodies once again. Harry proves without a shadow of a doubt that he is a gentleman, checking in with you constantly as he slides into you for the first time, stretching you more than you’ve ever been before.

As you’re all catching your breath, trying to readjust the mess of covers, you can’t help but start to giggle. It’s contagious and suddenly the four of you are laughing, though no one’s entirely sure why.

You finally calm down enough to say, “I can’t believe this is my life.”

“Well, believe it baby,” Harry says. “Because we’re not going anywhere.”

“Good.” You reply, shifting everyone so that you’re laying across all three of them. With your head on Mitch’s chest, torso being held by Harry, and legs tangling with Sarah, you fall asleep.

Your last thoughts of the night are about how indescribably happy you are that you’ve found your home and have started a perfect family.

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@akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye

AN: Thank you again for reading this story! Can't wait to share more with you all!

[chososchalupa]

New to school

Fem!Reader x Megumi

♡ About! Yuji’s sister is new to Jujutsu High and Megumi may cause more issues than she’s ready for

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CW - lowkey implied drunk sex? maybe? idk take it how you want 😌, Megumi is staying a cw bc fuck that dude‼️

Ch.9

I promise Megs will have redemption…eventually😭

Also‼️ Gojo makes in appearance in the next chapter🤭(next chapter is also written)

Also Also, I am holding myself back from posting chapter ten today instead of tomorrow but if yall want it today…?

Taglist - some blogs won’t let me tag

@sad-darksoul @arixyzz @persephonespomegranetes @beet1ebum @weird0o0 @diogodxlot @iluv-ace @sukiischaotic @luvvmae @oliver-crow @ajayke-reads @m00nglad3-mp3 @jtoddwife @deezy12299 @swissy23 @fantasycantasy

[kunimix]

—NEON GUTS

S 2 Ep. 9; Meet Kianta

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CW; basically part two of the previous chapter, written chapter, timestamps don’t matter unless said otherwise

——

“Wanna go back to my house?” Scaramouche asked while he was pushing you on the swings.

“Are you trying to kidnap me?” You asked jokingly while you were stopping the swing, “But sure”

He started grabbing your guys' stuff. He grabbed your arm and started leading towards his car. When you two got there he unlocked the car and opened the door for you.

“Aww thank you” You sat down in the passenger seat before he closed the door

“You’re welcome” He gave you a little nod

You two got to his house and you were greeted by a small black cat.

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah what about it?”

“How come I didn’t it last time I was here”

“I just recently got her”

“Oh” You immediately grabbed the cat “She’s so cute!”

“Her name is Kianta”

You ran up the stairs after taking off your shoes running to his room. He was right behind you which was confusing because he was just in the kitchen.

“How the hell are you so fast”

“Maybe you’re just slow” You rolled your eyes at his comment and opened his room door. You sat on his bed grabbing Kianta and placing her on your lap.

As you looked around his room with your eyes you noticed it changed a bit from the last time you were here. You also noticed he had a guitar in the corner.

“You play guitar?”

He turned a bit red is he embarrassed about it?

“Can you play something?”

“Sure” he grabbed his guitar and sat down next to you.

He was now just strumming his guitar while you were just petting his cat. You looked at him and he was already staring at you. He stopped strumming his guitar. You both were just looking at each other blinking every so often. You scooted closer to him.

“I like your playing” it had came out a little quiet than expected but that’s okay because he let out a breathy thanks. It was a nice moment until it was interrupted by his sister, Shogun.

“What do you want?” Scaramouche was a bit annoyed

“Mom wanted me to tell you that dinners ready”

“We already ate I told her that” His sister just shrugged but before she left she said one thing

“Girl you could do way better than my brother”

“Get out!” She quickly shut the door before he could do something.

“Sorry about that”

“It’s fine I think I should go though before my siblings start spamming my phone”

“Okay, I can drive you if you’d like”

“Thanks” You gave him a smile and started collecting your things.

He had drove you to your house.

“Well then see you tomorrow?” You didn’t respond but without saying anything you kissed him on the cheek.

“Yeah see you tomorrow” You quickly got out the car waved to him one last time before you entered your house.

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Summary; Scaramouche is "forced" to tutor you the "dumbass" of the class

A/n; I posted this yesterday okay ? Yeah okay. I feel this chapter is a little short

Taglist; @featuredtofu @chemiru @veekoko @kamiboo @mercy-not-merci @sl-vega @shutingstar @simpinggirl @swivy123

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 14

I'm sorry. Please feel free to yell at me.

Warnings Contain spoilers

Word count: 5.7k Chapter 15

You start pulling on your clothes as you come back from the bathroom, Frankie is already wrapped up in the bed sheets, half asleep as he pries open an eye to look at you. 

“I was thinking we should maybe not both sleep at the same time,” you say, reaching down for your boots. Frankie loses his sleepy look almost immediately and shoots up in bed, but you’re already holding your palm up to him.

“I’m taking the first watch, Frankie, no arguments. You didn’t sleep last night, I did, albeit behind the couch, but still. You need to sleep because to be frank, we’re gonna need you alert tomorrow more than me.”

“Cariño…” he starts to protest but you physically push him down onto the bed with your hands on his shoulders, and he lets you topple him over.

“Sleep, Frankie, I’m going to be outside the door, you’ll hear me shout if anything happens.” 

He looks up at you, trying to find an argument for taking the whole watch himself, but his brain is scrambled by adrenaline and sleep deprivation. The post-orgasm hormones don’t help either. 

“Leave the door open, wake me at three,” is all he manages before you kiss his lips and stroke his cheek, you swear he’s already asleep by the time you leave the room. 

Staying awake was harder than you thought, sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter stops you from dozing off, but you still feel like your jaw is going to pop as you yawn widely. Your gun is on the counter in front of you as you study the ring Frankie slipped onto your finger. The delicate gold band is thin, three simple diamonds set in a row, with room, you notice, for more diamonds along the band. You know Frankie isn’t the kind of guy to spend three months pay on a ring just so that it’s as big as possible, he would pick the ring that meant something to him and make it mean something to you too. You run your fingers over the diamonds, three in a row, you’ll have to ask him tomorrow. 

At three am you gently walk into the bedroom to wake Frankie, but he sleeps too lightly, your footsteps wake him up and he shoots up in bed. 

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, “It’s three am.” 

“Ok,” he rumbles, his voice rough with sleep as he rubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. You pull off your boots and crawl into bed with your clothes on next to Frankie. He catches your chin between his thumb and fingers, giving you a slow kiss, before letting go. 

When you wake up a few hours later daylight is starting to slip through the shutters of the window. Frankie’s hand is on your shoulder, gently shaking you. 

“Hermosa, time to wake up,” he murmurs as he bends and presses his lips to your temple. “The night was quiet and I made coffee.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and push the covers back, sitting up as Frankie hands you a mug. 

You drink it while you get ready, which only means you put your boots back on and stick the gun into the back of your trousers. Frankie’s heated up another can of stew from Denny’s supplies and you both eat it in silence. You’re apprehensive about leaving the safety and quiet of the cabin and move back into populated areas, but you can see Frankie’s nerves too. His jaw is clenched as he goes through both your packs, swapping out some of the food for Denny’s supplies. As soon as you put down your spoon into the empty bowl he grabs it from you and starts readying up to leave. 

“We should leave a note for Pope or anyone else who comes here,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, I did already,” he points to a folded piece of paper on the dining room table, “Read it and tell me if it makes sense.” 

You pick it up and flip it open, reading Frankie’s neat handwriting; 

September 29th 

To anyone of the guys

My girl and I are safe up here for now. We’re heading to L’s place today. Pope was here on the 27th, also went for L but hasn’t returned yet. 

We’ll return here when we have L, hope to see you all safe. 

Catfish

You fold it up and put it back on the table, “Looks good to me, I really hope they’re all here when we get back,” you say, looking over at Frankie who’s picked up your backpack and walked over to you with it.  

“Yeah, I really hope so too,” he replies as he helps you on with the pack, turning you around and adjusting the straps before he pulls your gun from behind your back. 

“I made you this while I was keeping watch,” he holds up a makeshift leg holster. “You can’t wear a regular holster with a backpack on and you won’t be able to get the gun from behind the pack, and I don’t want you walking around with the gun in your hand.” 

He kneels down and straps it to your thigh, using a snap-link to attach it to your belt. “Denny had a couple of old holsters for his hunting gear so I repurposed them.” He’s got a similar holster on his leg, his gun already in it and now he slides your gun into yours. 

“Feel good?” he asks, looking up at you from the floor, tugging on the holster, making sure it’s not too tight. 

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much use I’ll be, Frankie, I’ve never even fired a gun.” 

“Hopefully you won’t have to but I can’t show you, I don’t know when we’ll get more bullets,” he gets up and gives your backpack a final look over, “Denny didn’t keep any guns or ammo up here so we’ll have to grab any that we find.” 

Once outside the cabin, Frankie locks up and puts the key back into the lock box before turning towards the lake. 

“There are a couple of canoes down by the small boat house,” he says, “we can use one of them to get across the lake, saves us walking around it, we’re heading in that direction.” 

You nod and follow him down the gentle slope to the lake, the morning is calm and quiet, and again you’re struck by how normal everything feels. If it wasn’t for the slightly heavy feeling in your stomach, a small hot ball of anxiety, you’d think it was just Frankie and you heading out for a couple of days camping. 

The trip over the lake is smooth and when you get to the other side, about a mile from the cabin, you get the packs out before Frankie paddles the canoe into some thick, tall reeds to camouflage it as much as possible. Luckily it’s an old wood canoe and it all but disappears into the reeds. 

Frankie glances down at his compass, attached to his belt, and motion for you to follow him. You’ve agreed to speak as little as possible and move quietly. There probably won’t be any infected out here but Frankie doesn’t want to take any chances. So in silence you walk behind him for three hours, stopping when he holds up his hand, checking his direction or listening intently. At one point he signals for you to stop and crouch and as you sink down behind a bush, you hear rustling in the shrubs ahead. Your skin goes cold as you mimic Frankie’s movement and pull out your gun, moving it slowly out of your leg holster. The rustling continues, coming closer until, finally, you see the source of the sound, a white tail deer, slowly ambling through the forest, nibbling at leaves here and there as it goes. You let your breath out slowly, as Frankie stands up, startling the deer enough to make it prance away into the underbrush. 

At the three hour mark Frankie finds a good spot for a break, a small stream that lets you refill your water bottles. Stretching out your legs on the ground, your back against a large boulder, you try to savor your lunch sandwich. Frankie sinks down next to you and gives you a little nudge with his shoulder. 

“How you holding up, cariño?” he asks in a low voice. 

“I’m alright, just jumpy,” you reply, leaning your head on his solid shoulder for a little bit. He caresses your cheek with his warm palm and you feel his lips press into the top of your head before he begins to unwrap his sandwich. 

After lunch you get even jumpier, you’re still following hiking trails through the forest but every now and then you have to cross main roads, you start seeing houses, you even skirt around a small town. In the distance you see a group of people, you can’t tell if they’re infected or not, but as Frankie leads the two of you in a wide circle around the group, you keep watching them. They don’t move and you think they’re too unnaturally still for humans. 

Just as you’ve managed to clear a small ridge and put some distance between yourself and them, a loud collective shriek goes up from the group of people. Frankie immediately grabs you and pulls you down into the tall grass next to the trail. It feels like your heart is going to claw itself out of your chest as you feel Frankie’s weight on top of you, he’s half covered you with his body. You glance up at his face and you see him carefully lift his head out of the tall grass. 

“It’s ok, they’re running, but in the other direction,” he whispers and pulls you up. In a crouch Frankie starts to jog down the other side of the ridge, holding on to your hand as you run to keep up with him. You continue running until your lungs are about to give up and Frankie slows down but starts walking next to you, keeping a brutal pace, still holding onto your hand. 

“We need to get away from them as fast as possible, we can’t fight that many on foot,” he pants, giving your hand another squeeze. 

Not until you’ve covered about three miles does he slow down to a regular pace, you’re drenched in sweat and breathing hard, your legs aching. He pulls you off the side of the trail you’ve been following, into the forest and behind a thick shrub. 

“Sit down,” he motions, pointing to the ground, “catch your breath and drink some water.” 

You gratefully sink down and pull out your water bottle while Frankie remains standing. 

“We’re about half a mile from the bridge and the river crossing,” he says, looking at the map. “We need to be extra careful as we approach, if people in this area were trying to get away from any towns they’d probably have to cross there which means a potential traffic jam and potentially infected.” 

You nod and sip the water, offering Frankie your bottle when you’re done. He gratefully takes a long swig while you get back to your feet. You’re still exhausted after the sprint but you want to keep moving. The countryside around you makes you nervous, there are small farms dotted across it, three days ago you would’ve thought it looked quaint and rural, now the sight of every farm house makes you edgy. 

Putting away your water bottle, you follow Frankie back to the trail and after a short time it emerges from the forest onto a large country road, up ahead you can see the bridge. As Frankie had feared, it’s jammed with cars. You can walk between them, but the thought of what might be hiding among them makes panic claw its way up your throat and you take a tight hold of Frankie’s hand. He looks back and sees the fear in your eyes. Pulling you back into the trees he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tight to his chest for a minute, he pulls back and cups your cheeks, his large hands are warm and dry on your skin, as he kisses you deeply before he looks down at you and traces his fingers over your lips. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, it’s the only way forward.” His eyes rake over your face as if he’s committing it to memory and you suddenly realize what he’s doing. 

“Don’t say goodbye, Frankie,” you croak, your voice catching in your throat. 

“Just in case, mi amor,” he says in a low voice, pressing his lips to yours again. When he pulls back he turns and takes your hand, leading you back to the road where he lets go of it. 

“Stay six feet behind me, gun out, safety off, but keep it pointed to the ground. If you have to fire, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it.” He gives you a final look, a small smile, before turning back to the road. 

It’s slow going, following Frankie’s lead you move carefully in his footsteps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Frankie stops and surveys the cars in front of you regularly but nothing seems out of the ordinary, you see no humans, only open car doors, luggage that’s been left behind. 

As you’ve crossed about two thirds of the bridge a dog suddenly launches itself at the cage door keeping it shut in, barking loudly from inside a large SUV. Frankie and you both drop into a crouch, trying to see if the loud noise will draw in any infected, but the dog quietens down and the landscape around the bridge remains silent. You breathe a sigh of relief as Frankie carefully stands up again and motions for you to follow him. He carefully approaches the dog in the cage, a golden retriever you think, mumbling soft words to it, calming it down. Soon the dog is licking his fingers through the bars of the cage and Frankie slides back the lock, opening the door. The dog jumps down, its tail happily wagging as you scratch its ears. 

“Good boy,” you mumble, patting its flank as Frankie starts moving forward again. You give the dog a final scratch before you follow him towards the end of the bridge. The dog trails behind you for a while before it falls behind, going back to the SUV. 

As you get to the end of the bridge Frankie holds his hand up, signaling for you to stop. He points to the last pillar of the bridge, written on it, in what looks like black magic marker, are the letters SOF, underneath is a rectangle with a single line through the middle and the number 1 just outside the box. 

“Special Operations Force,” Frankie says, “Pope’s been through here but he’s alone. The rectangle means he’s motorized.” He walks over to the pillar, pulling a marker from his side pocket and crouching down he writes SOF underneath Pope’s message, but he adds an odd looking cross underneath, two sides are flat and two are rounded. Then he writes ‘2’ next to it. 

“Special Operations Aviation,” he explains while he stands up and puts the marker away. “I don’t think any of the other guys will come past here but if Pope comes back the same way he’ll see that we’ve been here.” 

You continue down the road, it’s still about an hour's walk to Lucía’s house and you’re forced to stay on the road, there are no hiking trails leading in the right direction. Frankie’s head is on a swivel, his gun drawn as you both walk off to the side of the road, creating some distance between  yourselves and the cars. There are less of them now, and up ahead you can see an almost clear road. You crest a hill in the road, carefully trying to see over to the other side before you’re too exposed, when a pickup truck just ahead rumbles to life and barrels towards you with a screech of tires. Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you behind one of the few cars on the road, his gun aimed at the truck. “They’ve got to be ok, right Frankie?” you say, his hand still holding you down behind the car. “Infected can’t drive!”

“Stay down, cariño,” he snaps, his eyes focused on the truck. You hear it come to a stop and the engine goes silent as the doors are opened. Frankie lets go of you and grabs his gun with both hands. You turn and peek over the bonnet of the car and see two men get out, staying behind the doors of the truck, as another two jump down from the flatbed. 

“You know how to use that gun, sonny?” the oldest man calls from behind the driver’s door. He’s big and burly looking, a cowboy hat squashed down on a very round head. 

“Sure,” Frankie calls back, shifting his stance. 

“Why don’t you lower it and toss it over here. And any gun your cute girl might be carrying.” The man’s voice is saccharine and makes your neck hairs stand on end, you glance up at Frankie and see the muscle in his jaw working. 

“We’re just passing through, trying to get to some friends, we don’t want any trouble.” 

“Then why you pointing a gun at me, son?” The older man looks over his shoulder and nods at the two men who got off the truck and they slowly move to the sides, circling the two of you. 

“Cariño, get your gun up and stand behind me, aim at the man on the left,” Frankie says in a low voice, his eyes never leaving the older man. You do as he says, trying to have a steady grip on the gun to keep your hands from shaking. Copying Frankie’s stance, you hold your gun in both hands, your feet apart and steady, aiming at the man on the left. With a thumb you flick the safety off and draw a deep breath. 

“Steady there, girlie,” the old man drawls, as he sees you move, holding up a hand to stop the two men. “Son, you don’t want to do anything stupid and get your girl in trouble here.” He moves out from behind the car door, and from the corner of your eye you see the rifle he’s holding low in his hands. “We’re just out here making sure no one’s looting these cars, especially of any guns they might find.” 

“These guns are mine, like I said, we’re just passing through.” Frankie calls back through gritted teeth. You can hear the sharp tone in his voice as his eyes flick from the man in the cowboy hat and the man still standing behind the passenger side door. 

“You’re outnumbered, pal,” the man on the right calls out with a chuckle, “just hand over the guns and any supplies, and we’ll let you pass.” 

“Might keep your girl though,” the man on your left drawls, the man you’ve got your gun aimed at, he’s eyeing you with a smirk on his face that makes your skin crawl. “She’s shaking like a leaf but I bet she’d put up a nice little fight.” 

Frankie glances over at the man on the left, before he looks back at the man in the cowboy hat, he’s got a crooked smile on his lips as he shoulders the rifle. 

“C’mon, sonny, the guns and the girl, and then you can walk away.” 

Frankie’s gun is loud on the silent road, and the man in the cowboy hat crumples over, his shot going wide as the rifle hits the ground. The man on the left throws himself forward and you feel the recoil in your arms as you fire, you don’t even know if your bullets hit, you can hear several shots from Frankie’s gun and your own, and Frankie’s hand on your shoulder as he pushes you to the ground. Two more shots ring out and Frankie ducks behind the car, his gun raised, listening. When nothing stirs he quickly glances over the bonnet before he stands up. Three of the men are dead on the ground, the fourth one, the one behind the passenger door, is scrabbling for something and with a few long steps, Frankie is on him, kicking the gun out of his reach. 

He’s on the ground, you can see him beneath the door, Frankie towering above him, his gun aimed at the man. As you watch, the man lifts his palms up, pleading, but the shot rings out and the man slumps back. Frankie bends down and picks up the man’s gun, quickly patting him down and fishing an ammo box from his pants. When he straightens up and walks back towards you his face is impassive, blank and you remember when you last saw that look; the bar that night you thought Frankie was a violent man. Now you know, he is violent, but only when he needs to and for now, you’re very grateful for his skills.  

You put your hands out to push yourself off the ground and a burning pain shoots through your shoulder, wincing you get to your feet and look at your torn shirt. Blood is seeping through and you suddenly feel faint. Frankie is on you in two fast steps, grabbing your arm and pulling back your shirt. 

“You’re hit,” his voice suddenly sharp with worry, as his gentle fingers push at the fabric, making you wince again. He unbuttons your shirt and pulls it over your shoulder. “Thank god,” he breathes out as he sees the shallow gash, “you’ve been grazed, it didn’t go in.” He pulls up his arm as if he’s about to pull his backpack off but changes his mind. 

“Come here, get in the truck,” he guides you over to the passenger side, “close your eyes, don’t look,” he mumbles as you have to step over the corpse.  You breathe in deeply and keep your eyes closed until Frankie closes the door. He bends down to pick up the other man’s rifle, putting it behind the bench seat, before he gets in and starts up the engine. It rumbles to life and Frankie turns it around, heading back down the almost empty road, and as soon as he sees a secluded spot he pulls over and kills the engine. 

“I’ve got to clean your arm, cariño,” says, opening up his backpack for the first aid kit. “Does it hurt?” He looks over at you, his eyes are worried and you shake your head to calm him. 

“Only a little, it stings more than anything.” 

“Ok, just keep breathing in and out while I do this.” 

The iodine solution makes you whimper but Frankie is fast and efficient, when the compress is on your shoulder the pain is already subsiding. He pulls your shirt back on, gives you a soft kiss, cradling the back of your head with his large hand. 

“You ok?” he asks in a low voice, “not just the injury, with what just happened too?” 

You let out a shuddering breath as you allow yourself to think about the situation, “I’m very glad you used to be a soldier, Frankie,” you say, leaning your forehead against his, “I think that’s the fourth time you’ve saved my life in twenty four hours.” 

“Me too,” he breathes, his thumb is caressing your cheek as he looks at you. His deep brown eyes are strained, but calm, “Things are going to get worse before they get better, cariño. I’ve seen it before, when society crumbles, it brings out the worst in people and they become very dangerous. I need you and Lucía safe at the cabin until we know things are getting back to normal, whenever that might be.” 

You nod and he turns back to the wheel and starts up the truck, “At least we got a truck out of it, this will make things easier as long as we have gas.” 

The truck rumbles through the landscape, in the distance you see a group of infected running towards something but the road curves and you move away from them. Frankie has driven this road hundreds of times, every time he came to pick up or drop off Lucía, and now he wonders at how eerily still it is. There are no people as the truck drives past the first few houses of the small town, cars line the main street but they’ve been pushed to the side. The dents and scrapes on them indicate that something big came through and shoved them out of the way. 

Frankie turns down a smaller side street, and then another small street, coming to the end of town. There are a few cars still parked outside the houses but most are gone. You glance over at him, his fingers are drumming on the steering wheel as his restless eyes bounce around the street, looking for infected, people, anything. He’s grinding his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing and when he pulls up outside a small bungalow you hear his white knuckles make the steering wheel creak. 

“This is their place,” he says in a low voice, “the car is still here.” He opens the truck door and steps down, listening for any movement as you follow him out. Pulling his gun he moves carefully up the porch and tests the handle on the door, it’s locked. 

“Stay by the truck,” he says to you, “if anything happens, if anyone comes, fire once in the air, ok?” 

You nod and do as he says. Frankie carefully walks down the side of the house, easily scaling the wooden fence that closes off the backyard. He disappears from view and you nervously wait, looking around the quiet neighborhood. When he opens the door to the house from the inside you jump but he holds up his hand in a placating sign, signaling for you to stay where you are. He disappears into the house again, you guess this means Lucía isn’t here, and neither is anyone else. 

You hear him walking through the house and before long he comes back out, a note in his hand. 

“They’ve been evacuated,” he says, showing you the note from Lucía’s mom. It’s dated the day before yesterday, Saturday, the note says the soldiers came at night and gave them fifteen minutes to pack up essentials. 

“She says they told her they’re going to a quarantine zone in Franklin. I’ve got to see if I can get them out of there.” He breathes a sigh of relief, “At least they’re safe for now.” he says, getting back into the truck and starting it up. 

As the truck rumbles through town you start seeing more infected, they stumble out of a few of the shops, attracted to the sound of the truck. At one intersection you see a large number of them fallen into a pile, bullet wounds to their heads, and you quickly look away. Their pallid skin, starting to show strange looking lesions, no longer looks human, but their clothes are still bright and colorful, reminds you terribly of the people who would’ve put them on, maybe on Friday morning, expecting just another day. 

Frankie speeds up, leaving town, and the shrieking infected behind, heading for Franklin. It’s less than an hour away, the nearest big city, and like before you see the cars pushed to the side of the road. Frankie’s fingers are drumming on the steering wheel again, his grip tight, his jaw clenched. He’s getting closer to Lucía, now he knows she’s safe, he just needs to get to her. 

“When we get to the quarantine zone, do you think we should stay there?” you ask him. “It doesn’t sound like a ‘quarantine zone’ is somewhere they’ll let you in and out of. Maybe it’ll be safer for us there too?” 

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, glancing over at you, “I need to see it first, how are they quarantining people? Keeping them separate enough so that if someone is already infected, they can’t attack and infect more people?” His fingers drum faster against the wheel, “I just need to see her, see her safe.” 

You put your hand on his leg and give it a squeeze and he drops his hand, curling his fingers around yours. 

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Still stings a bit, but it’s dulled, hurts when I move it.” You test moving your arm up and down, feeling the pull of the compress.

“It’ll give you gnarly looking scar,” he grins, “match some of mine.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and gives it a kiss, his eyes leaving the road for a second. When he looks back again he sees birds circling up ahead. 

“Buzzards,” he points them out to you. “Looks like they’re circling just over the road.” He slows down the truck as you come around a bend, clearing a small group of trees. The rumble of the truck startles the birds and you see more of them rise into the sky from the field bordering the road. Frankie stops the truck, leaving it in neutral, watching the birds circle, waiting to see if something moves. When nothing stirs he opens the door, signaling for you to stay put, and he steps on to the instep of the truck, hoisting himself up so that he can look over the door of the truck. 

“Oh fuck…” you hear him breathe out. 

“What, Frankie, what is it?” you ask but he doesn’t answer so you open your own door and swing yourself up on the instep. Frankie glances back at you and motions for you to get back inside. 

“Cariño, don’t, you don’t wanna- “

It’s too late, you look over the field, it looks like almost a hundred people are lying in it, none of them moving. The buzzards are settling back down, walking across the still bodies. 

“Oh my god…” you gasp, your hand going over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror. “What killed them?” you whisper, “are they infected?” 

“Get into the driver’s seat,” he says, “I’m going closer but I need you to be ready to drive if they are infected.”

“I’m not leaving without you, Frankie!” you say in a hard voice, as you slide over the bench seat and get behind the wheel.

“I’m counting on it, cariño,” he grips your hand before jumping down onto the ground. Grabbing the rifle from the back he loads it before he starts moving slowly towards the field. 

You step up onto the instep on the driver’s side, watching Frankie’s back as he makes his way across the road and into the field. As he reaches the first body he crouches down and seems to inspect them. Nothing moves, none of the bodies are jerking, they’re just dead. He stands up again and walks around the outskirts of where they’ve fallen. Suddenly he stops, slinging the rifle onto his back, before he steps into the mass of bodies, he must be stepping on them as he bends down and pulls at one of them, turning it over to face him. He stumbles back, losing his footing and falls onto his back among the bodies. 

Without thinking you jump down from the truck and run to him, grabbing hold of his arm as he scrambles to stand up, getting away from the bodies. 

“It’s Helena, she’s the mom of Lucía’s best friend,” he pants, standing up. You look over at the blonde woman, her open eyes looking sightless to the sky. Her torso has at least three bullet holes in the pale blue shirt she’s wearing, blood staining the light fabric dark. 

“They lived across the street from Lucía,” Frankie croaks and you suddenly realize what he’s saying, gripping his arm hard. 

He tears himself away from you as he starts circling around the bodies, crouching down, looking under those who have fallen on top of others, his eyes desperately scanning every face, every piece of visible clothing, looking for something he recognizes, praying he doesn’t. His heart is racing, his vision narrows into one long tunnel, focused on the bodies, praying, cursing, he can’t hear you call after him. 

And then he sees it. 

The hem of a dress he’d know anywhere because her abuela made it for her. 

With a shout he steps into the mass of bodies. You rush up behind him, tears are welling up into  your eyes, as you watch him scramble over to the small body. Skinny little legs in sneakers you bought for her birthday, you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from wailing. 

The dress is sticking out from underneath a woman, and as he gets closer he realizes it’s his ex-girlfriend, her arms hugging her daughter tight, even in death. The back of her tan coat is dark with coagulated blood that sticks to his hands as he bends back her arms to release her grip. As he shoves her aside a strangled cry goes up from the small body underneath, Lucia’s head moves as a rattled breath escapes her lungs and Frankie cries out in relief, grabbing hold of her waist to gently turn her over, scanning her body for injuries, he sees no blood on her. 

“Mija, I’m here, I’m here,” he gasps, “daddy’s here, Lucía, I’m here.” 

He’s holding out his arms to lift her up when he sees it. 

Trailing under the skin of her small throat. 

Up under the pallid skin of her cheeks, spreading out in a fine net. 

Tendrils reaching out from her small mouth. 

“Frankie!” you cry as the small body shrieks and reaches for him. He almost takes her hand, almost takes the small hand that’s grasping after his. You can see it, even from behind him, you can see the empty eyes, the twitching movement. 

Infected. 

His hand is still in the air, halfway to reaching out for her, his Lucía, her hand outstretched to him. As she screams, his hand drops to his gun. 

You turn your head when the gunshot rings out.

Chapter 15

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories

[oskea93]

☨ Fire Away ☨

✴︎ Chapter Ten (p.1) ✴︎

A/N: Why hello there, everyone! It's been a long while since I posted for this story, and I just want to apologize for that! In total honestly, I lost interest in this story. I didn't enjoy writing it anymore and I thought maybe the whole JCB fanbase has fizzled out, but I can see that's not the case. So in true fashion, this will be a two parter - just because there's a lot to write and I didn't want it to be crammed together. More drama and angst filled in the second part, but I thought it would be good to write in Caius POV for once, just to tell his side of the story.

Side note, if you haven't seen Horizon.... Run to the theater and go see it! I'm actually going again tomorrow to see it for the 3rd time... It's truly amazing! For my Jamie/Caleb story, I will be starting on the first real chapter tonight. I don't have an exact time when it will be released, hopefully by the weekend or a day before. But I just want to say thank you to everyone that is still reading Fire Away, it means so much and I hope you enjoy the new chapter ❤️

❖ If you would like to be tagged, please comment below ❖

Also! If you have an questions, comments, or just want to say hi - just send me a message and I would love to talk to y'all!

⍏Taglist: @xoxoindigo @vampluv3r @ladysybilchronicles​ @badkitty83 @volturgeist​ @theplagueworm​ @dogmom2014  @hybridlamb @clandestine-nerd  @yourfamilyfriendsatan​ @yourlocalrockstarsimp @violetlilites​ @quennconstanceuniverse​ @soraththefallenangel  @cancankiki​ @jamiebowerslut @okimreadynow​ @R2quellyz @historyandfandoms50  @dogmom2014 @kaitieskidmore1​​ @quinnswife86 @wooya1224​ @e-munson666​ @nessaisboring​ @j-herondale121109​ @greatfandom​ @fayythe

Caius’s POV.

“Where’s that little wifey of yours been hiding lately, nephew?” I looked up from the paper – Aro standing in front of the window that overlooked the garden. “She’s in delicate condition and shouldn’t be left out of sight.”

I let out a sigh as I leaned back into the chair, “She’s perfectly fine.” My answer was short. “She’s been hanging around Charlotte and getting things ready for the nursery.”

Aro's gaze turned intense as he inquired, “She knows the gender?”

I shook my head, “No.” His sudden smile quickly dropped as he turned back towards the window. “Apparently, they couldn’t tell when she went to the doctors. They told her they would look again at her next appointment.”

He stayed silent for a moment as he turned to walk to the desk, “My physicians are perfectly capable of taking care of her here – that way she doesn’t have to go to an outside sou-“

“It’s not up to you, Aro,” I interrupted, my voice firm. “Fuck, it’s not even up to me. She's her own person, and she'll make her own decisions about her care.”

“You’re the father, Caius,” his eyes burning into mine. “She’s only the mother – you have all the say when it comes to that baby – especially if it’s a little boy.”

Before I could reply, a soft knock sounded on the door as Vanessa peeked her head in. Her small smile quickly fell once she met the stare of Aro – his body reacting as he beamed at her. “Oh, speak of the angel.”

“I can come back,” she started to back away.

“No, no darling,” Aro walked over, taking her hand as he pulled her into the room. “Caius and I were just speaking of you. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Her eyes connected with mine as she answered him, “Fine – thank you,” her hand protectively placed against her growing bump. The overalls she wore placed her stomach on display as the denim pressed against her skin.

Aro caught onto her actions. “How’s the littlest Volturi doing? It seems like it’s been ages since I last spoke to you, darling.”

I could tell that she was growing uncomfortable as she shifted her bare feet on the wooden floor. “Baby is doing just fine.” She gave him a small smile before directing her attention to me. I could tell something was bothering her, but she didn’t want to say with Aro still in the room.

“When are we gonna find out what the child is? You’re already past your 20-week mark, correct?”

I let out a sigh as he continued to press.

“21 weeks,” her voice soft. “Maybe at the next appointment they will be able to tell. The baby was being stubborn that day I guess.” A soft laugh broke through as she rubbed her stomach.

“Typical Volturi man if I heard of one,” Aro smiled. “Just like his handsome father – Caius was the same way when his mother was pregnant with him. We didn’t officially find out if he was male or female until his mother was 30 weeks along. I was finally able to talk her into seeing the family physician – pulled up the ultrasound right away and there he was.”

Vanessa stood silent.

“Well,” Aro clapped his hands together. “I will leave you two with some privacy,” he moved closer to where she was standing. “Still have plenty of things to do before the benefit tonight.” Aro’s body side by side with Vanessa’s, making me sit straighter in the chair as I watched. “Hope to see you there, sweet Vanessa.”

Vanessa took a step back as Aro tried to caress her arm as he left – his eyes darkening at her action. She was the first woman to deny his advances – Vanessa was the only woman to not bow down to my uncle, and that enraged him. She waited a moment once she was sure he was gone – a sigh of relief pushing past her lips.

Silence surrounded us – the words from our fight weeks ago still fresh on both our minds. I was still sleeping in the guest room – not wanting to barge my way back in until she was ready. The air between us was better than it was before. We were back on speaking terms – a gentle touch here and there when close together. I couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did – my liquid courage causing word vomit to escape. I never meant those words – kicking myself the next morning as I watched her avoid me like I had the plague.

“You okay, darling?” I broke first.

She nodded her head, slowly stepping towards the desk. I couldn’t help but stare at her – absolutely stunning without even trying. Pregnancy had created a glow that made her even more stunning – a vision almost. Vanessa never had to try – whether she believed it or not. “Just wanted to tell you that me and Charlotte are going to town for a bit. I told her I would help her plant some flowers in the garden before I had to get ready.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her helping Charlotte. “She’s very particular about where she buys her seeds from – may have to come rescue you if you’re gone too long.” A sly smile came over her causing my heart to soar. I slowly removed myself from the chair, taking a couple steps before I towered over her petite frame. Her brown eyes synced with my blues as we took each other in.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, my hands gently pulling her in, feeling the tension in her body slowly start to relax under my touch.

She hummed in response, her blue eyes locking with mine. "Everything's fine, Caius," she whispered softly, a faint smile playing on her lips.

I studied her face, searching for any traces of worry or doubt, but all I found was the familiar warmth and strength that always drew me to her. Despite her reassurance, a nagging feeling lingered in the back of my mind, telling me that something wasn't quite right.

I took a deep breath, trying to push away my concerns. "If anything's bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?" I said, my voice filled with genuine concern.

As she nodded and the room fell into a brief silence, the tension between us seemed palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. Our bodies were mere inches apart, the closest we had been in weeks, and I could feel the longing in my fingertips, aching to touch her soft skin once more.

Before I could say anything else, she interjected, "I better go. Charlotte's probably waiting for me in the car." Her words cut through the moment, bringing a sense of reality back into the room.

Frustrated by the sudden interruption, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to mask my disappointment with a sigh that escaped through my lips. "Yeah," I murmured, my voice low with a tinge of regret. "We'll just make sure to be back before six – the dinner starts at seven sharp."

She gave me a small nod and a fleeting smile before slowly stepping out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering ache of missed opportunities…

 I sat on the edge of the bed, the unfinished knot of my tie dangling loosely in my hand, thoughts of Vanessa and the unspoken tension between us weighed heavily on my mind. Downstairs, she was still with Charlotte, their voices drifting up to me as they tended to the newly potted flowers. The dress she had chosen for the evening hung elegantly against the closet door, the shimmer of glitter catching the soft light of early spring.

Her troubled expression from earlier lingered in my thoughts, her eyes reflecting a mix of worry and sadness that she chose not to share with me. I couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was troubling her, something she kept guarded within herself.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed myself off the bed, the need for a distraction leading me to the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. However, my frustration grew as I discovered that the lighter had died, leaving me cursing under my breath.

Fumbling through the drawers in search of a replacement, my mind distractedly moved from one drawer to the next, until I reached Vanessa's drawer. Among her belongings, a small ultrasound photo caught my eye, its message hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"It's a boy!"

The words "It's a boy!" reverberate in my mind, the gravity of the news began to sink in with a profound weight. We were going to have a son - the Volturi heir that Aro had been eagerly anticipating, the next generation of our lineage. This child would be my firstborn, carrying with him the legacy of our family, the littlest prince destined to inherit the mantle of leadership in the kingdom my uncles had painstakingly built.

The thought of this new life, this tiny being who would one day grow to wield great power and responsibility, filled me with a mixture of emotions. Pride swelled within me at the prospect of fatherhood, mingled with a sense of duty to guide and protect this future leader. Yet, underlying it all was a deep sense of apprehension and uncertainty, knowing the challenges and expectations that awaited my son as he entered a world steeped in tradition and intrigue.

As I carefully placed the ultrasound photo back in its designated spot in Vanessa's drawer, the weight of the revelation still lingering in my mind, a pang of hurt and frustration crept into my thoughts. The fact that she hadn't shared the news of our baby's gender with me stung, albeit subtly. It was a reminder of the distance that had grown between us, a gap that seemed to widen with every unspoken truth and withheld emotion.

Reflecting on the situation, I couldn't deny the twinge of disappointment at not being the first to know about our son. The news of Vanessa's pregnancy itself had come as a shock, revealed to me in a moment of public unveiling orchestrated by Aro at Marcus's funeral, a setting that was far from ideal for such intimate revelations.

Closing the wooden drawer with a sigh, the forgotten need for a lighter now insignificant in comparison to the weight of the photo hidden atop the clothing in the 3rd drawer. Running my fingers through my hair, I gave the ends a hard tug in frustration. A part of me wanted to go out there and confront her right away – not wanting her to hide the truth any longer. The rational portion of my brain simply said to wait until after the benefit. The air between us was already tense – a fight right before the event was sure to make everyone’s night terrible.

The sound of soft footsteps on the staircase caught me by surprise, freezing me in my tracks as I quickly backed away from the drawer, my heart racing with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Hurriedly, I moved towards the open window, seeking a moment of respite as I tried to collect my thoughts. Glancing back, I saw Vanessa entering the room, her eyes meeting mine as she closed the door behind her.

"I didn't realize you were still up here," she remarked casually, making her way over to the dress hanging on the closet door. "Figured you went with Aro to make sure everything was set up."

I cleared my throat, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "Uh, no," I replied, trying to sound composed. "He told me to just stay put until it was time to show up. Besides, I already checked on things this morning to ensure everything was proceeding smoothly. Can't exactly rely on Aro when it comes to dinner party arrangements."

I observed as Vanessa's expression shifted slightly; her curiosity evident as she focused on the dress in her hands. Sensing the need to change the subject, I quickly interjected, "How are the flowers? It seemed like you and Charlotte were quite in tune with them." I watched her inspect the dress she had chosen with Charlotte, undoubtedly envisioning how stunning she would look in it at the event.

“Got them all potted for the most part,” she said curtly. “I’m gonna shower real fast and get ready.”

Before I could reply, she had already retreated to the bathroom, the sound of the shower turning on filling the otherwise silent room. I listened as she stepped into the shower, my feet carrying me almost involuntarily to the bathroom door. Through the glass, her silhouette came into view – her bump prominently displayed as she lathered her hair. In that moment, she looked absolutely beautiful – not that she doesn’t in general – but there was something about her vulnerability that made her seem almost angelic.

A part of me wanted to jump into the shower with her – to tell her and show her how much I truly loved her. I would forgo the gala just to hold her in my arms for the rest of the night, to place my hand upon her growing stomach and speak to my son for the first time. That was all wishful thinking, though.

I let out a sigh as I slowly walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door to ensure her privacy. I found myself in the kitchen, searching the drawers for the forgotten lighter. Cursing aloud as my search came up empty.

"Try looking in the cupboard, dear," came a singsong voice. My nerves rattled at the sound of Charlotte’s unexpected suggestion.

"Jesus, Charlotte," I muttered, my head hanging as my heart pounded in my chest. "Trying to give me a heart attack?"

She let out a chuckle, the sound light and teasing. "The world might cease to exist if you can’t smoke that cigarette, darling." she said, gliding into the kitchen with an air of effortless grace. Her presence was always a mix of comfort and command, something that never failed to both soothe and unsettle me.

I opened the cupboard as she suggested and, sure enough, the lighter was there. I grabbed it and turned to face her, shaking my head with a rueful smile. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably lose that handsome head of yours if it wasn’t screwed on straight," she quipped, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She leaned against the counter, her gaze softening as she looked at me. "She getting ready for tonight?” Her eyes glancing to the ceiling.

I nodded my head as I lit the stick, the flame casting a warm glow that flickered in the dim kitchen light. "Yeah," I replied, my voice thick with emotion. "I just want to thank you for accepting her and making her feel loved. She seems to really enjoy your company, and I can tell she appreciates your kindness – especially now with the baby coming along and all."

Charlotte's expression softened, a tender smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You don't have to thank me, Caius," she said gently. "Vanessa has been an absolute joy. She's a remarkable woman, and you're incredibly lucky to have her in your life. For once—" she reached for my hand, her touch warm and reassuring—"you thought things out with your brain instead of what's zipped inside your trousers."

A laugh escaped past my lips as I nodded my head. "She's not like the others, that's for sure."

Charlotte chuckled along with me, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it's about time, isn't it? Finding someone who truly understands you, who brings out the best in you."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words. "Yeah, it is. She's changed everything for me. Made me realize what truly matters." In the short time that we’ve been married, my thoughts were no longer focused on myself or the family business. Before Vanessa, I didn’t care what happened or who I hurt. I was only focused on getting whatever job needed to be done.

"And she's just as lucky to have you," Charlotte nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. "It's a lot, carrying a life inside you. But she's strong. Both of you are."

“You think I’m gonna be a good father?” My eyes focused on my ringed finger. “I mean I can only model myself after Aro and Marcus – they’ve raised me since I was small – most of the time it was you and the other help that I would see for days.”

Charlotte's smile softened as she reached out to place a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Being a good father isn't about having all the perfect examples," she said gently. "It's about love, commitment, and the willingness to learn and grow. You have all those qualities in spades."

I looked up at her, the worry in my chest easing slightly. "But how do I know I won't mess it up? What if I make the same mistakes?"

Charlotte shook her head. "We all make mistakes, dear. It's part of being human. But the fact that you're asking these questions, that you care so deeply about being a good father, shows that you're already on the right path."

I sighed, the weight of my doubts still lingering but feeling a bit lighter. "I just want to do right by her, by our child."

"And you will," Charlotte reassured me. "You have a good heart, and you care. That's more than enough to start with.”

I gave her a small genuine smile.

"Now—" Her hands moved down my bicep, her touch warm and familiar. "Where is the rest of your suit?"

We both laughed as I explained to her, "This is the style at the moment. I can’t be all stiff and boring like Aro and those other men – gotta stand out in the crowd, Charlotte."

She shook her head, still chuckling, her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and fondness. "Well, you're certainly doing a good job of that," she said, her voice teasing but affectionate.

Her aging eyes peered past me, and a soft smile formed on her lips. "Well, I think the beauty standing behind you will make that happen more than your outfit will."

I turned to see Vanessa approaching, her presence instantly lighting up the room. She radiated a warmth and grace that seemed to draw everyone's attention, including mine.

The champagne-colored dress that Vanessa had chosen fit her body like a glove, the color and sparkles making her already glowing skin pop out even more. My eyes trailed down to her stomach, my heart swelling as the bump was more noticeable than usual. I honestly couldn’t even put a sentence together—her beauty rendered me speechless.

“Oh, darling—" Charlotte shuffled past me as she made her way to Vanessa. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

Vanessa smiled warmly at Charlotte, leaning down slightly to give the older woman a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Charlotte," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. She glanced my way, her eyes twinkling with affection and amusement at my awestruck expression.

As they exchanged pleasantries, I took a moment to compose myself, trying to find the right words to express what I was feeling. Vanessa's presence was like a beacon, illuminating everything around her and grounding me in the moment.  

“Caius, sweetheart—” Charlotte’s eyes glinted with mischief as she and Vanessa turned their attention onto me. “Rather than keeping your jaw on the floor, why don’t you tell your wife how beautiful she looks?”

I snapped out of my reverie, feeling a blush creep up my neck. Vanessa’s amused smile only made my heart race faster. “Right,” I stammered, taking a step closer to her. “Vanessa, you look... breathtaking. I mean, you always do, but tonight you’re just...”

Vanessa’s eyes softened. “Thank you,” she said, her voice gentle. I could still sense a hint of timidness in her posture as I stepped beside her.

I cleared my throat, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. I was apprehensive but determined to provide the support she deserved. “Shall we go?” I asked, my hand hovering near her lower back.

She slowly nodded, a soft smile still framing her face. “Yes.”

As we made our way to the awaiting SUV, Vanessa walked a couple of steps ahead of me. Every movement she made seemed to draw my attention, and I felt a surge of protectiveness and love. My body instinctively moved into doting husband mode as I rushed to open the car door for her.

“Here, let me help you,” I said, extending a hand to assist her into the vehicle. Her fingers brushed against mine, sending an electrical current through my body. The simple touch was enough to make my heart race.

“Thanks,” Vanessa murmured as she settled into the seat, her eyes meeting mine. Her gaze was unreadable, a mix of emotions that I couldn’t quite decipher.

I settled into the seat beside her, and the driver quickly gathered himself, rolling down the driveway. The ride was mostly silent, filled only with the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the darkened windows as the car traveled down the interstate.

I glanced over at Vanessa, her profile illuminated by the occasional streetlight. She seemed lost in thought, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on her lap. I wanted to reach out, to bridge the quiet gap between us, but I hesitated, unsure of what to say…

[saintgoths]

ʟᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

JEALOUS!ELLIE X READER - LUST FOR LOVE.

[PART TWO OF FADE INTO YOU].

WORD COUNT - 2,893.

RATING - 18+. [ellie being a desperate cunt basically, oral sex, scissoring, over-stimulation & squirting, oh and angst!]

SUMMARY - you had moved on and Ellie hates it, but would do anything to get you back.

[requests are closed, until i post five chapters of a song of thorns they will open again]. if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

if this reaches more than ninty notes maybe i'll post part 3, which would most likely be the last one for this mini series :)

You have fulfilled what Ellie had feared, you had moved on and you have moved on quicker than she expected, she had heard the news from Dina who was told by Jesse due to the fact that the current person you were in a relationship with was a friend of Jesse’s, Justin.

Ever since you had started dating Justin, you had not marked Ellie at all; if you were being honest, you had missed Ellie, and it would be a half-truth if you said you weren’t dating Justin as a distraction, the man was sweet and had ticked all the boxes of being an excellent romantic partner.

Forthwith, you had been in Justin’s lodge, he had caught a cold which had made you quite upset since it would mean you couldn’t have him as your patrol partner for tomorrow, he had been your patrol partner this current and previous week. Justin was an excellent patrol partner, protective, skilled and strong, he had always checked up on you to see if you were hurt or bitten. His sweetness was overwhelming, you had wondered if this was all an act because most of the men you had romantically in your life weren’t the kindest.

However, since Justin was sick, and it had meant that someone had to replace him for your shift tomorrow, you had hoped Maria would be kind about who she would replace as your patrol partner. Though, currently, you had made him soup and delivered him multiple medicines to make your boyfriend feel better, presently it was night and you had informed him that you would be sleeping on the couch because you didn’t want to catch the same sickness he owned, but he had pleaded for your presence.

“Please baby,” he hopelessly whined as he reached out for you but you had comically rolled your eyes at him while you had made your way to the doorframe of his bedroom. “Sleep next to me.”

“Justin, I don’t want to get sick,” you smartly replied, “if you weren’t I would have been in bed with you and made you feel better in ways you would’ve loved.”

You had smiled at your sexual innuendo which had made your partner dramatically sob in thought of your sensual behaviour. Albeit, he had let you go and you had peacefully slept on his sofa.

The next day, you had returned to your home to prepare for your current shift, subsequently, you had met up with Maria who was ready to inform you with who you had to patrol with. Maria was a kind lady, stern and straightforward also had the characteristics of a leader, but you had remembered how much she had annoyed you with the lecture she had mailed you after the night you had your party.

You had remembered the words she had used, “disruptive”, “loud”, and “disrespectful”. You were sure most of the complaints had been from Seth, you had never gotten along with that man.

You had greeted the older woman who then politely tapped you on the shoulder, she had a look on her face that had told you that you would not be fond of what she had to tell you. You had not said anything to her but your eyebrows were knitted up as you silently waited for her to tell you what she had to say. “You’re partnered up with Ellie today, I know it’s something you don’t want today, but we’re low with supplies and I’ve been told there’s infected around and you and Ellie make a great team.”

Well, you would’ve made a great team if you two had been keen on each other. You were surprised, but you had kept the startlement to yourself. “Please, be kind to one another and use this time to make up.”

Jokingly, you had furrowed your eyebrows, eyes glistened with curiosity, “had you planned this so the two of us could make up?” You asked, lowly amused by her sneaky attempt.

“Somewhat like that,” Maria hastily commented as Ellie appeared, you had been informed before Ellie as Maria was tactful about it, she had gathered just like you, that Ellie had been avoiding you, so if the leader had informed the red-haired girl before, she was sure Ellie would have done anything to avoid going with you.

It was awkward whilst Maria had delivered the message that the both of you were partnered up, you had kept to yourself while Maria had explained Ellie everything, she had explained to you, when she had completed telling Ellie of her shift, she had shared with you, Maria had then glanced towards you then rebounded towards Ellie. “Like I said, be kind to each other and safe.”

You two had then left to the stables after you had bid Maria a goodbye; your horse was named Stella, she was a ginger mare, known for her stamina and speed and similar to your strength and fortitude. You had waited for Ellie to take her horse, Shimmer but you were quite ahead of her when she had finished her task. Your route out of Jackson was silent, you two were slightly next to each other and this time, Ellie was marginally ahead of you.

Ellie had thought of what happened a week ago and she couldn’t help but scoff about how fast you were to move onto the next piece of meat. You had heard the quick sound she had made but ignored it until the question that had been bubbling in your head eventually popped.

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

Once more, Ellie had scoffed, unbothered to face you, hands suddenly tight on the reigns connected to Shimmer. “Why are you avoiding me?” She foolishly repeated.

“Yeah,” you silently muttered, “why are you avoiding me?”

“Didn’t you kick me out?” She bluntly reminded you, “it would be stupid for me to come back to you and act like nothing happened.”

Well, she had practically slut-shamed you, so if someone had the right to avoid the other, it would be you. Gently, you clicked your tongue while you fiddled with your necklace Justin had given you as a late birthday present, the Williams girl had noticed your small action but had said nothing about it.

The rest of the patrol had involved you two searching for supplies and killing off the infected Maria had been informed about. The both of you had almost been close to one of your bases, and you had decided to use the time to speak again. “That doesn’t mean you have to deny every invitation Jesse or Dina give you, especially in settings where I’m there.”

“You’re almost pushing them to the point where they have to do functions without me so you can come.”

You didn’t want it to become this bad, it had upset both Dina and Jesse because they had missed having the group together. “If I do come then that means I’ll have to see you with that Justin dude.”

You had raised the both of your eyebrows, startled as you pieced together what she had informed you. “Is this what it was all about?” You quickly questioned, “because I moved on with Justin?”

“Maybe it is,” Ellie shrugged as she tried to push the jealousy, she had for the both of you out of her mind. “You did exactly what you denied you would do, you moved on when I did the slightest thing wrong.”

You had remained silent while the two of you made it to the base after you had tied your horses to stable poles so you could relax in the post that was known for its loud and alcohol. You had relaxed on the nearest sofa, fingers fidgeted with the jewellery around your neck as your mind was submerged with dozens of thoughts and ways to start another conversation with the stubborn girl who sat beside you, there was a gap between the both of you, the gap then filled with the presence of her bag.

“I don’t want to keep fighting with you,” you lightly muttered.

“You always give me a reason to.”

You had pressed your lips together and you had sworn you would’ve broken your necklace, Ellie was so difficult, you had matched her energy so it was an endless dispute between the two of you. “Where did you get your necklace?”

“Justin gave it to me as a birthday present.”

She snorted, it’s almost as if she had wanted to piss you off, make you feel like it was a terrible decision to be romantically partnered with the man who had been nothing but kind to you. You had pouted while you looked down at your legs, fingers still wrapped around the necklace, “at least he got me a present,” you pouted whilst you had avoided Ellie’s look who responded with silence until the woman picked up her backpack and unzipped the bag to reveal a small box she had kept in her gear.

It was disclosed to be a bracelet, the jewellery was handmade but it was very detailed and looked valuable, you had stared at it with awe as Ellie dangled the piece in front of you, “I wanted to give it to you during your birthday party, but couldn’t…” she sheepishly trailed off while you had taken the object from her and put it on yourself while you had observed that the trinket had both of your initials.

“It’s pretty, thank you Ellie,” you had gingerly smiled as you continued to examine the developed and itemized bracelet. You hadn’t known what came over you but you were sure you would regret it the next day, your lips confined with Ellie’s, your slender hands were clasped around her face, eyes closed and heated by her short act of kindness.

You didn’t understand why it was so easy for you to fall into Ellie’s arms, feasibly, it could have been the time away you had from each other that had you eager to have her again. You two had mutually taken off each other’s clothes, Ellie’s rough fingers competently found way between your legs and brushed against your bud, you had moaned into her mouth as she had gulled with your cunt, she had known how to play with your body better than anyone else that has touched you, she had always caused you to fall into a love drunk state which perhaps could have been the reason why you had briskly fallen into her arms again.

She had your back pressed against the sofa, legs widely spread as her face was currently enclosed by your cunt, she was always rough with her oral sex, her attention always intent and enfolded with your pearl she was invariably obsessed with, she had perpetually loved your taste, the tanginess and explosive nectar always kept her going, her two digits in your pussy and her heavy tongue lapped against your clit. You had arched your back, jewelled hand had planted in her hair as you animalistically rubbed your cunt against her face, your cries high and lewd.

With you overstimulated, Ellie’s tongue had fallen flat against your heated area, her coloured eyes stuck and fixated with your appearance, your choppy movements as you could feel yourself almost close with an orgasm. “Ellie, just like that!” You shamelessly whined, “just like that Ellie,” you hysterically pleaded during the time that your sweet ambrosia leaked into her mouth, Ellie eagerly belted and devoured your tangy nectar then pulled herself from your cunt after she kissed your pussy with a couple more licks ere she urged her mouth against yours once more.

With her fingers against her clit to prepare herself, the red-haired woman positioned her bud against yours, vulgar and lustful to have you cum again. She had moved her hands to your breasts and tightly fiddled with your nipples while she moved her cunt against yours, the sour and intense feeling enough to make you squeal into her mouth as she humped your heated area rabidly. She used your cunt like an animal maniacally pleasing itself, obsessed and determined to dominate you, the nails of her fingers dug into the skin of the sofa as she drawled the rhythm of her hip moving, sending you into a complete crazed edge.

“Fuck,” she chanted before she cloaked her lips around your nipple and drastically lapped her tongue against your tit, her body caved in against yours as she succumbed into her coarse and sharp desires and brambly caressed and fondled her clit against yours, her eyes tightly closed as her fingers moved from the sofa and to your highly positioned leg, her nails gently pierced into your skin, the afflictive bliss egged you into an elated climatic state.

Ellie’s crude and filthy pornographic shape, dogged and obstinate as she shortly orgasmed against your cunt, but firm on stroking herself against you to ride you into an over-aroused matter, you had loudly whimpered and moaned in relations to her tormenting stance, still, intoxicated by lust you had drowned into her provoking state and had squirted again; satisfied, the auburn-haired girl had pulled herself away from you.

It was silent while the two of you had put on back your attire, you had felt an immense guilt strike over you and you had wondered why that intense feeling hadn’t come before you had kissed Ellie. It seemed as if Ellie had taken a note of your convicted state and had lightly nudged you, “what’s wrong?” She questioned, sincerely oblivious to why you had seemed so disrupted.

You had nimbly choked a laugh at her inquiry whilst you had tied your laces you had looked at her as if she was futile. “What’s wrong?” You carefully repeated, “I’m a terrible girlfriend, that’s what’s wrong.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ellie mumbled but you shook your head.

“I kissed you first,” you argued as you stood up to your feet. “I have to tell him.”

Evidently, against the idea, Ellie gently shook her head. “He doesn’t need to know.”

With your shoulders slumped, doubtlessly shaken by the culpability and error you had just done. “Then what else can I do?” You asked severely stern on making yourself feel improved, Ellie, anxious, had responded with silence, her eyes big with alarm and angst of having to lose you again, “we can just continue not seeing each other.”

God, you were always one to choose the option that had Ellie feel abhorrent. “That doesn’t need to happen.”

“Yes, it does,” you painfully replied, “we pretend that this never happened, you can continue on your-hating-me hill and I can continue having a relationship with Justin.”

“Why do you need to still date him?” Ellie gratingly asked, taken aback that you had still wanted to have a romantic bond with the man, she had felt and believed that the connection you had with him wasn’t one you were genuinely happy with, and she was right, you were someone who loved to have a fiery and foolhardy romantic love life, Justin gave you the opposite of that. He was calm and gentle.

“He’s a good person, he’s good to me,” you hopelessly replied, desperate to move Ellie from the animosity she had for your relationship with him. “I’m sure the two of you would be good friends too.”

Ellie laughably scoffed at your statement, she had now been determined to leave the base, she had picked up her bag and swung it onto her shoulders, yet, she still made effort to look at you, an inquisitive question imprinted in her mind. “Is he more important than me?”

Your eyes widened at her inquiry, surprised to the fact that she would ask such a bold question, but, you had already had the answer in your mind, and it was one she had already knew. “No, he’s not,” you truthfully responded, disgraced that you hadn’t been able to successfully move from Ellie.

“Then break up with him and be with me,” she desperately pleaded, she had moved from her original position and closer to you, her hand had cupped your face that had been suffocated with the state of confusion. Ellie had pressed her forehead against yours, disturbingly in love with you and open to do whatever she’d have to do to get you back. “I’ll be better for you, and I’ll make you happier than him, please [Y/N].”

Your noses had gently stroked one another as you had drowned yourself in thought, Justin was a good man, he was good to you, and loved you in ways you thought a man couldn’t, he had given you what you thought you should have in love, but Ellie, as much as she had put you in situations where you had been a crying mess, had still been able to put you in scenarios where you had felt like the most special person in the world and you had liked that feeling more than you had liked being with Justin.

You had made your mind up, drastically driven by lust and infatuation; you had given into Ellie, and you had felt like you had chosen a choice that would bring all variety of chaos, but, yet, within that chaos you’d still be with Ellie. “Fine, I’ll break up with him.”

songs that fit this song ⬎

⟶ lana del rey ft the weeknd - lust for life. [evidently]

⟶ cafuné - tek it.

⟶ ariana grande - break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored.

⟶ rae sremmurd - guatemala.

[requests are closed, until i post five chapters of a song of thorns they will open again]. if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

masterlist

@daenerysluvrr thank you for the comment! and thank you for everyone else who supported fade into you! :)

♆

[midnightmorpher]

🍒 MM’s Daily Update: 1/08/2024 - 12/08/2024 🍒

I LIIIIIIVE!

Oh my gosh, I’ve been away for far too long! I got a bit burnt out by a bunch of things and fell offline for a good while, but now I’ve scraped together enough energy to push this “daily” update out!

Sooooo, first of all. I made a thing:

I made a Sun-themed bracelet with a little bell attached! And let me tell you, I have NO idea how Sun wears two bells and not go insane, because this little thing constantly jingles whenever I so much as twitch my wrist and it’s driiiiving me up the wall! :D

I’m also making a few other projects such as this:

And this:

Fanfiction-wise, I am ready to push out Chapter 5 this month! Haven’t decided on which day yet - maybe sometime next week - so while I ponder, I’m doing my part in sharing the love to other people’s fics and writing a bit for Chapter 6 in the meantime! Look at this bad boy, I’m proud of it!

Tumblr’s kinda freaking out on me now so I’ll leave this post as is, but I’ll talk a little more tomorrow! So good night folks, and have a wonderful day! ♥️

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 48

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n goes a little apeshit at JojaMart lmao

Author’s Note: *Crawls out of a pit covered in dirt and blood. Slaps this chapter down in front of you, on a SUNDAY no less!*

My health situation hasn’t improved whatsoever, but I will prevail, damnit!!

I wrote most of this and posted to ao3 early this morning, and haven't had a chance to proofread really. I'll do my best to get that done soon ^.^ Sorry if there are any weird wordings. Also sorry for the complete lack of Seb and Magnus in this one, I hope the shenanigans make up for it <3

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

I hate that stupid, cryptic, blue note I got.

Ever since it came, I think about it every time I check the mailbox, without fail. I don’t want to, I kinda just want to forget it exists, but I just… I dunno. I have a bad feeling about it. A gut feeling. Like, something’s totally up with it. It’s just been sitting in my closet for safekeeping until I decide what to do, though.

For some reason, I’ve been too nervous to bring it back up to Magnus. He’s forgotten it exists, from what I can tell. I think I’ll do my best to keep it that way for now. It feels more like my burden to bear than his, and besides, he’s already got the whole region to take care of.

After today’s confirmation that I don’t have bills or anything important like that, I head inside to get ready to leave the farm. Reeeally hoping my routine will shake out my heebiejeebies.

I got the OK from Magnus to use his fancy shrine for Spirit’s Eve. Got an idea of what I think I want to make myself look like, too. Maybe a tiefling or something. If tieflings don’t really exist, I’m sure some sort of succubi, or imps, or some sort of creature that looks like one’s gotta, no? I suppose I could always fall back on just pretending I’m an elf… man, a tail and horns would be so fun though. 

Either way, tomorrow is the big day and I am so ready for it.

I mean, like, almost ready. Whatever.

Today I’m going to Magnus’ place to get some practice in. Just a precautionary measure to try not to, like, blow myself up or something.

I’m gonna keep my outfit cozy and easy to move around in, but I have half a mind to make sure I wouldn’t mind losing these clothes in particular if something goes wrong with the transformation. Just some leggings, some crew-cut socks, an old hoodie, and my favorite boots, since I won’t have my shoes on in the shrine anyway. All of it is in black. Sebastian cosplay. 

I’ll pop my red studs in too, gotta commit to the bit. I haven’t had time to talk to The Emo and see if he actually did get his shit pierced last night, but assuming he did, and assuming he was able to use these for it, I wanna go all out, baby.

Now, before I head to the tower, I’ve got some errands to run around town. I woke up a bit late so there’s gonna be more people out than I’m looking forward to, but hopefully I have no creepy Alex encounters or awkward conversations with Shane again.

I promised Sam I’d visit him at work sometime soon, so I might as well head there first. He hates it there, and it’s been a while since we’ve caught up, so I’ll hopefully be a welcome distraction. I’ll bring him a coffee too to keep his spirits high.

After it’s done brewing, I grab two foam cups and pour the coffee in. Knowing Sam, he probably needs this stuff sweet, and I’m in the mood for sweet too, so I pour in a bunch of vanilla-flavored creamer. To make the beverages ~gourmet,~ I add a little whipped cream to each, as well as a light drizzle of chocolate syrup. After securing the plastic lids and giving Cannoli some well-deserved love, I head out.

While I pass by the bus stop, I make eye contact with Pam. I’ve never spoken to her, but… I dunno. I can’t tell if I like her or not. She gives me a nasty stink eye and I can only further assume she’s as mean as she outwardly appears. Unless she was just cursed with an intense resting bitch face...

I smile Pam’s way anyway. She doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. It doesn’t benefit anyone to be so judgemental of her.

I pass a few local moms once I make it to the town square. None really mind me, which could mean they either didn’t notice, or they don’t care. Either is fine by me. I don’t hear what they’re saying, but Caroline talks very animatedly just before the rest of the group bursts into laughter.

I turn my attention back ahead as I pass by Pierre’s and nearly bump into Marnie as she’s leaving the shop.

We both squeak out a little “Oh!” before apologizing in unison.

“I wasn’t really paying attention,” I double down. 

“Oh, that’s fine. I rarely ever am!” She then motions to the two cups in my hands and adds, laughing, “At least the coffee’s safe!”

I awkwardly nod in agreement. Then, a brief flash of myself actually spilling coffee somewhere down the road raids my mind, my necklace tingling against my skin and my fingers practically buzzing.

Great.

“Everything alright, sweetie?”

That probably looked weird. “Yeah, sorry,” I try to recover, “just sleepy today!”

I take a sip of coffee to emphasize my point. Plus, I might as well drink what I can before these puppies go down. Hopefully I’ll be able to save at least one of them when the time comes.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that!” She puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “I need to get back to the shop, but take it easy and don’t overwork yourself, you hear?” 

I nod, thanking her and waving her off with a shy grin before I continue moving. Once I get closer to the spot I’m supposed to be spilling these drinks — just before that little bridge over the river by JojaMart — I begin to walk more cautiously. If I can just keep these steady and focus on the ground… 

A sneeze creeps up on me. Oh god. Oh god oh fuck oh no.

Just as I’m beginning to carefully place one of the cups on the side of the bridge for safe keeping, the sneeze forces its way out of me. Luckily, one beverage — the one I hadn’t drank from yet — stays safely in my hand. Unluckily, the one I was working on trying to keep safe fell to the stones at my feet, opening up and dispersing its contents fucking everywhere.

God damnit. 

“Nice one.”

God fucking damnit.

I look up to the voice. It turns out Shane’s outside having a smoke. He’s at the opposite end of the bridge watching my clumsiness unfold with an aloof look about him. He’s bent over to lean on the stone wall, his right elbow propped up and his corresponding cheek in his palm. His left forearm is flat against the structure while his left hand lazily dangles his cigarette between two fingers.

Is that pink nail polish on one of them? I wonder if that’s Jas’ doing. 

I merely groan back my response, picking up the now-empty cup to discard in the trash bin near the store. As I proceed on my walk of shame past Shane, I point out, “At least my clothes stayed safe.”

Shane follows and asks, “How many ants do you think you murdered with that accident?” 

I grin a little at his dry humor. “Oh it was a massacre,” I bounce back. “The war in Gotoro pales in comparison.”

“Ha!” Oh my god, I made Shane — the grumpiest fuck I’ve ever met — laugh?! “Right on. Seems like pointless violence anyway.” 

I turn to see if I can catch him smiling for the first time, like, ever. It’s not there anymore, but there’s a residual brightness in his features.

Shane snuffs out his cig on the ashtray built into the garbage’s lid, abandoning it there before shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright blue shorts.

“Those sons’a bitches,” he nods in the direction of my carnage, “they had it coming.”

My nose scrunches as I laugh a little, giving him a funny look. “Damn, what’d they do to you?”

There’s a playful glint in his eye, as he deadpans me. “Exist.”

I shrug and nod — I get it, they can be pretty annoying! — and follow the man as he makes his way through the white-rimmed, glass-centered automatic doors. I try not to cringe outwardly at how many self-righteous pro-Joja fliers are on them.

Shane stops a few steps into the store. Turns around. I stop too and look up, tilting my head. What’re you looking at, punk? I think to myself. Dunno if I’d be pushing my limits by trying to say it out loud. Better not.

Shane gives me a weird look too, but I can barely see it. My senses are taking their damn time getting used to the obnoxiously fluorescent lighting.

“Don’t you shop at Pierre’s?” Shane wonders out loud.

I blink a few times as I adjust to the environment and then nod. “Visiting Sam,” I explain.

“Ah.” He nods too, in understanding, and then looking the other way he continues, “Enjoy.”

Shane makes his way towards a door to the right of the manager’s office. Says “Employee’s only,” so I’m assuming it’s a break room or something. I don’t miss the incorrect apostrophe, but choose not to linger on it either.

“You too.” He looks back over his shoulder, so I pair my well wishes with a lazy salute.

“Buh.”

…Buh?

I smile. I think he’s warming up to me!

Feeling a tad lost now that I’m alone, I look around before making any advances. Should’ve asked Shane if he knew where Sam would be around now. I dunno how the shifts work around here.

The cashiers to my left — a visibly exhausted red headed woman, probably in her late 30s or early 40s; and a scrawny, scruffy looking teenager, with thick-framed glasses sitting atop his freckled nose — both look miserable.

The boy is boredly leaning against the counter, zoned out on the ground in front of it. The woman looks totally spaced out on nothing in particular. It almost seems like she’s fighting off sleep, too. Poor lady. 

The woman and I lock onto each other. She looks away from my face before I can even register it, but I notice her eyes flicker longingly to the coffee cup in my hand a few times after the fact. I peer between her and the beverage twice before I all but scurry away into the aisles. I’m too awkward for this. My only option is to retreat. Never said I wasn’t a coward.

While I venture past the boatloads of boxed, bagged and canned foods in search of the resident dog boy, I observe some of the products. Some don’t look safe for consumption, while others seem like they’d be fun to try as a one-off sort of deal. It overlaps a few times as well. I mean, why wouldn’t I want to try this cereal which very explicitly states on the box that it’s more sugar than grains? It makes me stifle a giggle. I like the brutal honesty. 

I stop and stare at it for a sec. Gnawing my lip. Wondering if I should just…

No. I shan’t.

I break away from temptation and trek on. As I reach the end of the aisle, I pan across the back of the store. More shelf-stable products, a small produce section… ah!

Sam looks like he’s supposed to be mopping the floor near the freezers. To be fair, he is holding a mop, and it is touching the floor! But instead of cleaning, he uses the tool as a microphone; singing against the end of the brown wooden handle, both hands passionately gripping it as he bends his torso to quietly belt one part in particular. Sam’s eyes are shut, his bulky black headphones are secured over his ears, and he has not a single worry in the world. 

Holding his coffee in both hands now, I stop walking and lean against a nearby shelf. Observing. Waiting. Eventually he’ll have to see me.

He does a little spin move and carelessly bumps into the bucket of soapy water he’s working with, causing it to slosh around a little. Some of it lands on the floor, and some on the pants of Sam’s jumpsuit. Doesn’t faze him in the slightest. 

He does another spin the opposite way and nearly knocks over the conveniently placed display of sprinkles that are situated right in front of the ice cream freezer.

I feel like I should probably stop him before something bad happens, but he looks so damn content and so stinkin’ cute that I can’t be assed. 

Just as I’m thinking this, he opens his eyes, completely avoiding my direction while he immediately peers over his shoulder. Sam scans around, getting a full view of the proximate areas. It seems like he’s just making sure he’s not about to get caught by his boss or something, if I had to guess.

Eventually he lands on me. We both smile wide, and I triumphantly hold up his (unspilled!!) coffee in one hand, presenting it with a small flourish of the other and a bow of my head.

“For you, my good sir.” I make sure to sound extra fancy, dropping my voice an octave and annunciating my words a bit too much.

He looks around again before meeting me in the middle with a fist bump, completely ignoring my bit. Aw man.

“Hell yeah, thanks dude!” 

I shoot some awkward finger guns at him, “You got it, bud.”

“You didn’t make yourself one?”

I sigh, lamenting, “I did…”

Sam scans my face as we share a short silence. Then, the lightbulb almost visibly goes off in his noggin. “You spilled it, didn’t you?”

Pursing my lips, I nod. “I spilled it, yeah.” 

“Buuummer, dude.” He pats my head and I sigh, leaning into his touch. I’ll be damned if I don’t still love head-pats, even if it’s been a while since I’ve gotten one. “Wanna split this one then?” he offers, palm still on my crown. At this point he’s just trying to messy me up.

“No thanks, I’ll just grab another later if I’m really craving it.” Not having noticed the trance I’ve been in as my hair gets slowly and steadily ruined — it feels nice, okay? — I finally look up at him, cheekily glaring as I manually remove his large hand from me. I add on as I try to repair the frizzy aftermath, “Sick performance, by the way!” 

“You think so?” he beams. Makes me laugh.

“Of course! It looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

Sam’s face is a bit flushed as he takes the compliment, not even trying to hide it; he has a big goofy grin on his face, too.

It drops and Sam looks behind him as a deep voice with a bit of a southern twang booms from one of the aisles nearby. “Samson?”

“Shit, here.”

Sam hurriedly places his coffee into my hand and rushes back near his water bucket, looking around for his manager as he moves. I try to make things less suspicious by pretending to look at some nearby end caps. 

I take a peek over when I hear Sam greet the man, “Hiya! What’s up, Morris?”

Crossing his arms and puffing out his chest to try and make himself look mighty, a man in a navy blue suit, a bright red bow tie, and a poorly-applied black toupee corrects him. “That’s Mr. Saxton, son.” 

I roll my eyes. Awesome to know the guy running this Joja is just as insufferable as the dudes who work on the corporate side.

Sam puts an anxious hand on the back of his neck, and halfheartedly smiles as he apologizes, his speaking patterns much more formal than before. Poor guy… it hurts to see him having to tone it down so much for this dipshit.

I turn my attention back in front of me so as to give him some privacy. Not sure he’d want me to hear him getting his ear talked off.

This display is full of holiday cards... I might as well waste some time with these bad boys. I pick up one with a cartoon beagle wearing a birthday hat on it, stealing a sip of Sam’s coffee as I read the pun on the front: “Have a doggone good birthday!” Alright, nice and cheesy start…

I flip the card open. It starts blaring Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out.” Fucking hell. Jumpscare me, why doncha! I shudder at how tinny the music sounds — likely made worse by its volume — then close the card and place it back in its spot, not bothering to read more.

“Excuse me, miss?”

I peer over my left shoulder, and see that Mr. Saxton is making his way towards me. A vein is popping in his forehead, but he has a toothy smile on his face that screams customer service. Not sure what’s going on and feeling a little anxious about the situation, I don’t answer with words — I just turn my body to him and watch him expectantly. 

My eyes flicker to Sam real quick, who’s closer to the opposite end of the freezers now. He’s looking over here though, and when his eyes catch mine, he mouths “Go!” and motions his arm towards the front end of the store. Maybe he got caught socializing or something… wouldn’t doubt that there’s probably heavy surveillance in here. Man.

I look back at Sam’s boss as he says, “I’m going to need you to discard your beverage.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “Why?”

Ah, he’s the asking-questions-is-talking-back type: He huffs a deep breath and tilts his head as if to mimic me, clasping his fingers together in front of his ribs. The smile and vein are both still on his face.

“It is not only unacceptable to bring your own food into a grocery store,” he strains, “but I cannot have you spilling your drink all over our products.”

…I haven’t spilled anything. What does he think I am, some crusty little kid? 

Damn, this is bringing out a rage that I haven’t experienced since working behind a Joja desk. I didn’t know I was even capable of it anymore. Must be something about the overstimulatingly bright blues, or the blindingly white strips of lights. Same ones we had above each cubicle in the office.

My anxiety is rapidly replaced with a petty yearn to cause a ruckus as I realize that I don’t work for Joja anymore. I never have to even come here again, actually.

I don’t answer to this fucko! I don’t answer to anyone!

Screw this guy!

Feeling courageous, I put on my own customer service mask as I inquire, “Do you want me to spill this on your products?”

“E-excuse me?!”

I hover the cup near the cards, tilting it a little. Doing a little eyebrow wiggle too for good measure. “It feels like you dooo.”

“I— w-what are you doing?”

Seb would be so proud if he were here. Not sure how Magnus would react, but I’d like to imagine he’d support me too.

Completely on impulse, I bring the cup in front of me and splash a little coffee in the man’s direction instead of the cards’. The now-lukewarm liquid splatters onto the white button-down beneath his jacket and rapidly seeps into the fabric, leaving a light brown, unsightly splotch.

Sick, got him where it hurts and none got on the floor! Less work for Sam!

Making sure my voice is just as cheery as Morris was trying to keep his, I cap this off, “Stop treating your employees like crap and stop treating complete strangers like children, asshole.”

This feels so good. My heart is racing and my pits feel a little moist and I might just end up an anxious mess the second I walk away, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t cool as fuck in the moment. When Leah asked me last week if Magnus ever wanted to go apeshit, it didn’t even occur to me how badly I wanted to go apeshit.

I walk down the nearest aisle as Morris continues sputtering something about me leaving, paying for this, whatever.

Shane’s kneeled down in the middle of the aisle stocking shelves. He faces me for a moment and grins slyly. “That was cool as hell.” Why does this feel so validating? “A woman after my own heart.” 

HUH?

I blink that fucking flashbang away — seriously, the last time I saw him he was still being a dick, and today he’s treating every interaction like we’re fully acquainted, if not more, what the heck — as he turns away to scan items onto the shelf again.

“I really didn’t do much…” I really didn’t. Just kinda caused a minor inconvenience for the guy. 

My hands are shaking though, so it must be catching up to me.

“That still took some balls.” He glimpses at me briefly and adds, “Y’look like you might cry, though. Get outta here before I change my mind about you.”

I huff out a quiet laugh and steady Sam’s — well, my, now — coffee in both hands. “On it, boss.”

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Black eyed & Blue ||

Chapter 1 - Skull & Crossed Wires

Frank Castle x Female Reader/OC

Notes: I'm posting this first short chapter in my Frank Castle and female OC/reader mini series in the hope that it will spur me on to finish it! I have some other chapters written already just need to get them where I want them and write some more. 😊

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, biting, general vampire themes, fluff & smut, frank being protective, Matt makes an appearance.

Please comment and let me know what you enjoy or would like to see as the story develops and I'll see what I can do!

Frank managed to limp his van to the nearest garage before it crapped out entirely. He had cleared it out after his latest 'road trip' back at the safe house. It wouldn't do any good if the mechanics found any of his arsenal…

He left them with the keys and said he'd check back in a couple of days. Leaving a cell number was out of the question too, he still wasn't quite comfortable leaving much of a trace even if he was now 'Pete'.

He walked up to the shop office two days later, hopeful he could throw down a few hundred and get going. A fraught looking gangly guy was having an in-depth discussion on the phone as he entered. He passively waved Frank in the direction of the garage floor, pulling the phone away from his mouth and yelling towards the doorway.

"Blue! Customer!"

Frank gave him a semi-polite nod and headed through the side door where his van was jacked up, a pair of dark blue Converse sticking out from underneath.

"Uh, right. Guess it ain't ready yet." Frank ventured.

"No shit Sherlock." A voice came from below.

"Can see why you got Shaggy on the front desk there, customer service ain't your thing huh?"

The feet peddled their way out from under the van to reveal a woman with her hair tied up out of her face with a blue bandana. She had an oil-smudged face, and chipped sky blue nail polish on her fingers. Her mouth dropped open as she pushed herself up and took in the figure of Frank standing over her.

"Oh fuck- I mean, shit! Damn! Fuck!" She winced. "I'm really sorry mister… thought you were Ray winding me up again. Sorry, I'm trying not to cuss as much but, um…"

Frank couldn't help the sly smile from spreading across his lips.

"Think you're doin' well enough. Don't you worry about it. Maybe uh, you can gimme an idea when she'll be ready?"

She got to her feet, wiping her oily hands on her dirty coveralls, which were also blue.

"Well, that's the thing. I'm still waiting for a part to come. I woulda called you to let you know but, uh, you didn't leave a number so…

"Yeah, don't have a phone." He scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Kinda hate all that tech shit y'know."

"Wow. Well, okay old man, I'm not sure exactly when it'll arrive, our supplier is vague at the best of times, I really wanna find someone better but…"

Frank couldn't help grumbling a little. He was keen to get back on the road, after all, biker gang ass wasn't gonna kick itself. "Then I guess 'i'll just keep comin' back every day till she's ready."

Blue smiled politely. "Once it's here I'll get it fixed as fast as I can but if you refuse to have a phone like us regular people I guess that's just what you'll have to do. See you tomorrow then?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. See ya tomorrow."

The next day Frank dropped by the garage late afternoon, he'd had a particularly rough night chasing down some dregs of the Dogs of War that refused to go down easily.

"Jeez, what the heck happened to you?" Blue asked, looking up and seeing the dark bruises around his eyes as she heard him come in. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking? Those are some shiners."

"Walked into the side of the door when I got up during the night to piss. Bein' how I'm an 'old man' an all," Frank deadpanned back.

"No shit. You gotta be more careful, looks a bit like someone belted you right in the kisser!"

Frank shrugs.

"To be honest I wouldn't be too surprised if they had. Don't take this the wrong way but you've kinda got one of those punchable looking faces, mister..?"

"It's uh, Pete." Frank replies with a slight chuckle, only slightly offended. "And is that so?"

She holds out her oily hand for him to shake. "Hi Mister Pete. They call me Blue. And yeah, I mean you're real good looking and all but-" she stopped as Frank shook his head and laughed.

"Jeez, I really gotta stop running my mouth around strangers! I am so sorry…"

Frank holds up both hands giving her a smile, it had been a while since he had laughed as much. "Hey, no worries. Punchable and good lookin'? I'll take it. So, Blue, huh? No need for me to ask why I guess. "

She returns the smile, scuffing the toe of her shoe into the ground shyly. "I just like the colour."

Frank clears his throat. "So uh, there any news on that part yet?"

"Oh! Yeah, um it might be tomorrow but…"

"Might not?" Frank finishes with a slightly tense shrug.

"Yeah, really sorry about this, Pete. I'd even go as far as to offer you a free coffee in apology but our machine's bust, and even if it was working it tastes crap anyway."

"Don't worry about it. Alright well, guess I'll seeya tomorrow again."

Blue gave him a little wave. "Yeah, seeya tomorrow Old Man, hope I've got some good news for you then."

Frank just shakes his head, smiling to himself as he leaves the garage and sets off back home.

The next day, when Frank turns up, Blue's face is bright with the biggest smile, and it only got brighter as she saw what 'Pete' had in his hands.

"Hey!" She greets him animatedly and it makes him feel a little warmer inside.

Frank nods then hands her one of the carryout cups of coffee he has. "Hey, didn't know how you take it but I got some sugar and milk here too if you want, seeing as your machine is broken an all."

Blue beams, her fingers brushing briefly over his as she accepts it. "Oh, thank you so much! And no, that's great, straight up is perfect, so kind of you, thanks Pete!"

Frank shrugs. "S'nothin'."

She takes a hearty sip and then remembers what she was about to say. "Good news by the way, the part arrived this morning! I'm about to get on it right now, shouldn't take too long if you don't mind waiting?"

Frank nods, finding a space to sit nearby. "Yeah, sure, if you don't mind me watching you work."

She disappears under the van. "Actually, gives me the chance to ask what the hell you've been putting this poor van through, you gotta take more care of her if you don't want to run her into the ground."

Frank huffed. "Yeah, just been real busy, y'know, and my work takes me all kinds of places, some uh, rough terrain."

"What kind of business are you in Pete?"

He scratches the stubble under his chin. "Uh, removals, pest control, odd jobs. That kinda stuff."

"A Pete of all trades?" Blue suggests, and Frank has to laugh.

"Yeah," again he feels the rare smile stretch his face as he strokes his stubbled jaw. "Somethin' like that."

It wasn't till later, when he was on the road again rummaging through the glovebox for the map when his hand landed on the tin of sweets. He took them out, curious seeing the note stuck to the lid.

'Something to sweeten you up, old man :)

-Blue'

He chuckles to himself as he opens the tin and takes a candy.

[lexluvswriting]

ꔫ L'autunno.

☆ Ch: 3                                                 [last page] [next page]

-> Pairing: Eris x ballet dancer!fem!reader.

-> (CW): x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, regarding canon ACOTAR time: after defeat of Hybern.

-> (TW): uhm, some slight simmering sexual tension, ig? your first fight w daddy (jk. ur just a bit of a meanie in this chapter i'm afraid), Eris Vanserra is a mumma's boy bc i said so, thank u & good night.

W/C: 3.6 k

╰┈➤ Lex's note: I am SO SO SORRY THAT THIS IS SO LATE EVERYONE!! i've had assignment after assignment after assignment for the last 4 weeks on each friday [which is when i usually write 😵‍💫] I'm posting ch 3 tonight, but i'll have ch 4 and maybe 5 ready tomorrow!!

It had now been three days since receiving the news that you’d be performing for the Vanserra family personally. In that time, you had also discovered a few prominent things to note: the potential financial ruin that would befall the old dance studio if its debts weren’t repaid in time; that Eris Vanserra was a snide, egocentric prick who seemed to like watching you dance an awful amount, and that Eris Vanserra’s personal scent was of smoky woodfire, with a subtle hint of maple- a combination that made your stomach lurch. That last bit was information you were sure you could live without, but from when you two had ‘spoken’ in the hallway of the studio after the raspberry coulis debacle, it lingered in your nose and messed with your head.

It was the fourth day of practice- three days ‘till the Autumn Equinox- so as any normal girl did, you were trying to find reasons not to attend the Equinox, and not to attend the ball afterwards on Eris’ arm. Today to your dismay, he had requested time with you personally, and you were highly suspicious. However, your motherly confidants weren’t hearing a word of it.

“Think of the opportunities, petal! You will have a chance to wear some of the most beautiful dresses in all of the Autumn Court- perhaps all of Prythian! Everyone will be having their sights set on the Equinox in place of Calanmai, so you will be a star!” Primrose gushed, clapping her hands and pressing them together as she swooned- the pot plants to her left accelerating in growth, their blossoms procuring the most vibrant coloured flowers, feeding on her magic as the Spring Court native expressed her excitement.

“If [Y/N] wanted to be a star, she’d go to the Night Court and rendezvous with the lordling there. But she’s not.” Ordelia interjected her wife’s exclamations with a slight frown, taking a brush to your locks as you sat on the floor in front of the fae female. “You cannot possibly try to avoid it now- this would be a wonderful time to show Eris that you are skilled with your body and your mind. Indulge the boy in his dances, let him crow about his achievements, then confront him on what they are doing in the harvest quarter. The cul-de-sacs and the complexes are being raided almost weekly.” She encouraged firmly, wanting you to push forward with bringing up the topic of concern to the lordling. You winced slightly as she raked the brush through your hair as she spoke, yet you let her style your hair neatly.

“This is a chance for you two to discuss important topics, [Y/N]. Ignore the tabloids, and the gossips. You will be with the heir to the Autumn Court- the opportunity to hold his family accountable is staring you blank in the face!”

You sighed, fiddling with some loose fabric on the long, loose sleeve of your blouse. “Even if I were to talk to him, I highly doubt he has the capacity to process what I want to discuss. Besides, this feels stupid- why does he need to spend a whole day with me anyway?”

“Well it would make sense! You’ll be on his arm the night of the actual Equinox- he ought to make sure he knows who he’s dealing with.” Primrose advised helpfully, Ordelia nodding contemplatively behind you, “He might be wanting to look out for your best interests and warn you in advance about Beron.”

Ah, yeah. That tyrant. The arsehole who wrongfully increased the land taxes despite the land being on its last limb during Amarantha’s ‘blight’, merely to make his people work harder with no time for mourning or celebrating. The bastard who is not-so-sneakily declaring an exodus on non-Autumn fae, making every step you took a more calculated one when you’d walk to and from the studio.

After the protests in the streets recently, Primrose stopped sitting on her balcony to watch the sunset, and now Ordelia mostly runs the errands. You’ve been staying over at theirs a lot more too- not feeling comfortable in your own apartment, staring at the certificates recognising your creative and academic ability, thus granting you these pleasures. Not with the small Summer Court trinkets on your shelves despite living in the Autumn Court apartment. You didn’t even feel like a true fae. You felt foreign- like that human girl who was living in the Spring Court all that time. A small part of you wondered if she’d understand these troubles in the human lands too.

You had zoned out, and they both seemed to catch on to the way you went deathly still. Primrose warmed your hands with hers as she pulled you to stand, embracing you. “It will be alright, my petal. Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Just enjoy yourself today, yes? You’re going to be with the lord’s son. Perhaps he’s more than the papers make him to be.”

“He’s a male.” You huffed softly, yet her embrace gave you a small flicker of confidence.

Maybe it would be alright after all.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Are you going to be scowling this much at the Equinox ball?”

“Depends. Will you irritate me this much then?” Whatever Primrose and Ordelia advised for you flew completely out the window as soon as you entered the carriage that waited outside your complex. You had glanced around nervously before climbing in as soon as the door opened, his smug voice welcoming you.

“What are you afraid of? I won’t bite- not unless you’d like me to.”

Your nose wrinkled at his tacky response, but it was truly his foxish grin that unsettled you. In fact, everything about him unsettled you. You truly despised how handsome he was- especially when he was quiet, when he didn’t annoy you. It gave you time to observe him as he looked out the window of the moving carriage. His eyes glimmered in the light of the sun, as if his irises couldn’t decide what colour they wanted to be. His hair reminded you of the brightest, orange leaf you could find. He certainly seemed to emanate the idea of ‘Autumn’- as if he was the physical manifestation. Your stomach lurched as you sobered up to the ‘goo-goo’ eyes you gave him, your lip curling as you huffed at Eris and looked away, causing him to chuckle.

“I didn’t even say anything that time.”

You didn’t deign to respond, sending him a judgemental side glare, as if he wasn’t the noble who was taking you out for the day.

“You ought to be nice to me, lest you incur the wrath of my father. Or myself, for that matter.” His canines flashed as he smiled at you, his body language conveying a silent warning. You snorted softly at the mention of his father, unable to bite your tongue as you crossed your arms,

“And what will he do? Kick me out of his court? Wouldn’t be the first, would I?”

Eris’ face fell, and all sense of mirth- no matter how smug- left his face. He regarded you with a slow, calculating look- his eyes raking over you- before he rolled them, a more snarky, arrogant smirk curling on his lips as he regarded you again, clicking his tongue.

“My, my, what a tongue. Don’t tell me you’re subjecting me to ‘politics’ now. Aren’t you supposed to look pretty and dance?”

“Why am I here?” It wasn’t a question, and you wouldn’t apologise for it as you snapped at him, narrowing your eyes as you sat up straight- as if to strike like a cobra.

“Don’t you listen, darling? I’m taking you out for the day- to get acquainted and what-not. You ought to learn about my family before you insult them as horribly as you insult me- and we’ve only been friends for a day.”

You barked a laugh, almost recoiling in disgust. Friends? I’d rather drink dirty lake water.

“You are also going to be responsible for assisting in a make-shift Calanmai, shall we say.”

Your ears twitched, and you almost lunged for him. “If you’re implying that we are to share a bed, I’d prefer you to kill me right now.”

This time, he rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if you were the idiot in the carriage. “No, darling. Why don’t you listen to me first, before you go off rattling your poor little brain. The Spring Court cannot… ‘deliver’ on Calanmai this year, so the Autumn Court has decided to take up the honour. The Equinox is the night where the magic in our land concentrates the most- so you will be dancing to appeal to the Mother, and invoke a surge of power. Then, we will have a ball, where you get to look pretty on my arm and do some dances for me, in true ballerina fashion.”

“Prick.”

“That naughty tongue of yours- I must say, darling, you won’t last a minute with my father if you keep that up-”

“I could care less for your father.” You cut in, glaring at him with all the contempt you could muster.

“I could care less for him, and you, and your spoilt, sheltered family. You’re all tyrants.” The leash you kept your temper on, which wasn’t doing much before, was on its final thread now. But when Eris watched you in his usual smug amusement, snickering softly as if your disdain for him was comical, it made you lose it.

“See? You laugh because you know it’s true. You’re a spoilt, womanising bastard of a ‘lord’, and I dread the poor girl who has to sire your children. You- like your father, have no respect for your citizens- the natives, and those who came here seeking asylum.”

He inspected his nails boredly while you ranted, nodding along dryly, “Oh, I know. Doesn’t it just eat you up inside?”

“It does, actually. You and your father make no sense. He’s actively driving your people to ruin- upping their land tax when he knows damn well how Amarantha’s blight affected the court’s harvest and vegetation. Your soldiers are pulling families out of their homes in the dead of night, in the middle of the day, kicking them out with nothing but the clothes on their back and for what? Because your father was in the mood for some ‘nationalism’? Mothers, pleading for shelter, their children cold and crying while you all sit back and do nothing- provide no resolutions, no assistance. I don’t even want to imagine how weak and pathetic your mother must be-”

“Hold your fucking tongue.”

A sharp snarl tore through your rant, and in a blink, he had you pinned against the back of the carriage seat. Eris’ breath warmed your face, his canines sharp and pearly enough that you saw your warped reflection in them. His eyes were certainly bright now- as if he had captured the Vanserra fire in his irises, and for a moment you were completely distracted by his pretty eyes before you felt how tightly he gripped your upper arms, the feeling of his fingers digging into your biceps uncomfortably making you snarl as you pushed against him, trying to kick him off. Your body seemed to wake up as his skin made contact with yours; blood rushing in your veins; heart racing- the beats pounding in your ear as your stomach fluttered? Churned? You weren't sure what it was, but you didn’t like the foreign feeling.

“Let me go-”

Unwavering, he kept you in his grasp, his breathing almost uneven, some loose strands of auburn hair curling as they hung in front of his eyes. Everything felt far too amplified as he forced eye contact from you, and you wanted to get away from whatever this was.

“Speak about the Lady of the Autumn Court like that again, and I’ll rip out your fucking tongue.”

You had never been up and close with the Autumn heir- never knew what he looked like when he was angry- never experienced his aggression. But the flutter, the flicker of something that roiled in your lower stomach made you swallow dryly, your eyes locked on his as you silently nodded, your voice soft,

“Fine.”

Your eyes had widened at this point, and to a stranger, it would look like you were a frail deer cornered by a fox. Eris took slow, deliberate breaths to calm himself, his glare deadly as it bore into you in a way that was uncomfortably intimate. You watched his eyes visibly flicker from your own to your lips for a considerable moment, before he pulled away, releasing your arms from his grip as he sat back in his seat, looking out the window- jaw clenched. You both stayed silent for the rest of the carriage ride, yet your eyes never strayed from his jaw for that moment; your stomach fluttered every time he clenched it.

Well, this was certainly a start.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

You felt the carriage stop, and your head slowly turned back in his direction. At some point, you had turned away, looking out the window as you hugged yourself- your hands resting on your arms, where his hands had wrapped around them. You couldn’t get the feeling of them off you, the area of skin that he touched was still warm even after he had let go ages before. Your mind had raced in that long moment of silence- he certainly took the reputation of his mother seriously. What possibly could have caused that reaction? You had tried to remember what you could about the Lady of Autumn; not that there was much to go off. She barely had a moment in the spotlight, thanks to Beron. You didn’t even know her name- but did anyone? Everything you could remember about her was… muted. As if she wasn’t really there.You thought of the noble female fae again, and remorse trickled in, making you almost flinch at the way it tasted in your mouth. You pictured a lonely woman, married off to a man that made it his mission to evidently mistreat her, and it made something die within you. 

“I’m sorry.”

It was quiet, and he didn’t spare you a glance as he opened the door, disappearing out of the carriage before a hand stuck back in, waiting for yours to help you out of the carriage. You hesitated- would it burn? Would it warm your body the way it did when he grabbed you before? You barely had a chance to consider it before he pulled you out as if you weighed nothing more than a feather, his other hand instinctively catching your waist to steady you as your feet touched the ground. Before you could even look up at him, he let go, looking away with indifference that made a small part of you roll your eyes.

“I’m sorry. For insulting you and your family.”

You tried again, toeing at a small pebble on the ground. This was stupid. You felt like a child. And what right did he have to get all upset when it was true what you had said-

“I couldn’t care less what you think of me, nor my father. But you do not speak of my mother that way. Ever.” The seriousness in his tone when he regarded you finally made you stand straighter. There he was. That was Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court and future Lord, the oldest Vanserra son. This time, there was no arrogance from him when he spoke- nor any barbed retorts from you. You looked at him, squinting as the rays of the sun slightly marred your vision before you shielded your eyes with a hand.

“Where are we?”

“The amphitheatre that will be used for the Equinox. Thought you’d want to see where you’d be performing, lest you accuse me of ‘blind-siding’ you.” He seemed to have resorted back to his snide, playful manner quick enough- yet you were still cautious- still curious.

“I’m not from the Autumn Court.” You blurted out- not in the most cohesive way, of course- shifting your weight from leg to leg as you stayed put as he walked ahead. He sensed that you hadn’t followed and sighed, glancing back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“But you live in the Autumn Court, darling. Forgotten already?”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” You almost felt like a child with the way you responded, and he seemed to pick up on that as he snickered.

“I’m not from the Autumn Court.” You tried again, narrowing your eyes as you watched him roll his ith a dramatic sigh.

“Would you like a medal?”

You ignored him and stepped forward, looking out at the autumn scenery, shivering slightly despite being dressed in warm layers. “Why was I chosen to do this? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have someone of Autumn Court origin?”

“Are you really this ungrateful for such a prestigious opportunity?” The smile in his voice was evident as he goaded you, and you sighed, making your irritation known. He chuckled, clicking his tongue and shaking his head as he grabbed your arm to walk with you, only to sigh happily as you hissed and smacked his hand away,

“Alright, alright- I confess, I picked you personally.”

Well you knew that already. 

“Obviously. Why?” You glanced at him as you both walked towards the large stone infrastructure, and he shrugged, the smile on his face evident that he wasn’t going to tell you- or at least, tell the truth.

“You’re pretty. Available. Apparently you’re the best in the Autumn Court. Why wouldn’t I?” He asked sweetly, his saccharine grin making you glare at him before looking forward. His words made your ears redden, yet you tried to ignore his wily charms as you followed.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Leaves crunched underfoot as you neared the large amphitheatre where you’d be performing, your eyes widening as you took in the horizon that came into view. The amphitheatre was situated on a tall hill that seemed to overlook all of the Autumn court territory, and even you couldn’t resist the varying hues of red through brown that appeared in the trees, in the reflections of the large lake at the foot of the hill you stood on. As you turned your head, looking back toward the structure, there was a tall, grey marbled statue of a feminine figure with a hood over her head, obscuring her face. In her hands, there was the image of fire, with a stony cauldron at her feet, and at the bottom of the statue was an inscription in a language you didn’t recognise- though you recognised the statuette immediately.

“The Mother.”

“And the Cauldron,” Eris nodded, eyeing the statue with a face you couldn’t read, before he nodded at you.

“You’ll be dancing in front of her, and my family, and probably most- if not all of the Autumn Court, to invoke the magic of the Court and make sure it thrives- isn’t that exciting?” Eris crooned patronisingly, not even giving you time to respond as he walked towards the large stone slab that posed as the main stage.

“And then, you and I will dance, commemorating me, commemorating my family- the one you seem to despise so eagerly- and commemorating the magic that flows through our land. How wonderful.” He sighed, as if swooning over a romantic gesture, and you couldn’t make your irritation more evident. 

“Lighten up, won’t you darling?” When his taunt went unanswered, that cunning, manipulative smile curled on his lips again as he walked over to where you were overlooking the Autumn Court.

“I mean it, you know. You ought to be kind to me. I hold the future of your beloved, ratty, worn-down studio in my treasury.” At the threat in his tone, you tensed, scoffing spitefully as you crossed your arms to hide from the chill.

“Threatening me now? Really?”

He shrugged, standing next to you with his hands behind his back as he looked out at the landscape, “Not a threat to you, darling. But to the old studio that seems to be in the way of some projects my father wants to take action on. It would be quite easy to knock down- I even heard a rumour that its owner is behind on payments! Imagine my surprise when your pathetic little instructor grovelled at my feet, begging for a solution.” He shrugged, completely indifferent to the callousness of his character. You, on the other hand, seethed with rage as hot as the sun. It bubbled and simmered, and you pondered how quickly you’d be able to run if you kicked him down the mountain. But instead, you bit your tongue- you two had already gone at each other’s throats today, and it wasn’t even lunch time. Eris took your silence as space to continue, and he chuckled unapologetically as he shrugged,

“Besides, I told your weaselly little ‘mentor’ that if you did not perform to my standards, did not act to my standards, he wouldn’t see the money that was to be rewarded for your service. Although… no money means no payment on the property, which means- Oh! No more dance classes for little [Y/N] [L/N], the prima of her time.” He shook his head, his voice sounding almost sympathetic, though your eyes caught his fiendish grin in your peripheral.

“You really like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?”

“It’s me, darling. Of course.”

“Prick.”

“Don’t push it, darling.”

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: Ngl guys? this chapter is somewhat of a filler to bridge us to the next bits. I've had lots of writer's block but I persevered for you guys!! it's 1:20 a.m. for me rn and i have classes tomorrow so imma sleep- but pls give this some love, and (NICE) criticism bc i am a sensitive soul <3

[stonesylove]

A night out in Berlin pt.4

"Babe"

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

Alessandra was glad she got her alarm on when she woke up because she could never wake up on her own especially after a night out and even more when she had sex the night before, she looked over to the other side of the bed and he was there looking so hot even when he was asleep, Alessandra couldn’t believe what happened the night before but she didn’t have enough time to just sit down and daydream about the man sleeping next to her, so she got up put on her clothes getting mentally ready for the walk of shame to her home, it was truly a bad idea wearing a short shear dress in fall but as her best friend likes to say “A bitch never gets cold”. Alessandra took a cab and quickly texted him so Tom wouldn’t think that he was just a night stand or maybe she was the night stand but still it was worth taking the shot and inviting him for lunch, the Italian girl got to her flat around 8 am knowing she had to be at the studio at 8:30, at least it was close to her building.

The class went by as planned but Alessandra was completely sore from the night before, Tom was a big guy but she didn’t know a British man could do all those things, she thought that he was gonna be a fun vanilla man but she was so wrong, she knew she wouldn’t be giving her all and Giuliana was giving her funny looks through the mirror which made the situation more unserious, when the class ended Alessandra reached out for her phone in her bag to see a text from the British boy, and he was talking about his eyes but that message didn’t make sense to her until she realized she had posted a pic of her outfit and a little secret message for him, she loved that he take everything so lightheaded and didn’t make it serious.

Alessandra Di Maggio

well Tommy I know a couple blue eyed boys, so I had to shoot my shot and wait for someone to fall

My British boy (Tom)

Hmm I remember a short Italian girl kissing me outside of the club telling me that her favorite color was the color of my eyes 🤔

Alessandra Di Maggio

Such a hot girl move from that Italian girl

My British boy (Tom)

Yeah, she’s taking me out for lunch today

I need to talk about her riding techniques, I was impressed 

Alessandra Di Maggio

Hold your horses cowboy and reverse cowboy

My British boy (Tom)

That doesn’t make sense but I’ll give it to you😂😂😂

Alessandra Di Maggio

You just ruined the moment with that emoji grandpa

But I’m down if you wanna teach me some new stuff

My British boy (Tom)

You can’t call me grandpa and then ask me to fuck you in new ways

I guess that’s how ipad kids flirt

Alessandra Di Maggio

I can’t please you, you don’t like my cowboy jokes and you don’t like the grandpa jokes

My British boy (Tom)

Baby you please me in every way possible but you’re way too funny sometimes

But that’s okay, we can search for your funny bone tonight 

Alessandra Di Maggio

Maybe we can also search for your hair bald guy

My British boy (Tom)

I know the buzzcut turns you on funny girl

But I rather see you looking out for your clothes tomorrow morning

Alessandra Di Maggio

We will see, don’t be so desperate let me rest 

See you at 2 o’clock outside of your hotel British boy

Alessandra didn’t know how to feel about Tom yet, of course he really knew how to make her scream and she loved that but she didn’t want to get too caught up with him. Time passed by pretty fast to her liking and when she was brought back to reality she was waiting for the tall man outside of his hotel; she saw his figure walking out of the lobby and fuck he knew how to look like the hottest man alive. “Hi funny girl” Tom said hugging the short girl, “Hi daddy” Alessandra said making him laugh so loud.

“I like experimenting but I don’t think the “daddy thing” is something I like” Tom said catching his breathe, “You don’t like any of the nick names I gave you, literally such a boomer” she said trying to sound hurt but she loved to poke fun at him “Would you prefer if I call you tom nice balls?” She tried to be as serious as she could while saying that, to what Tom shrug his shoulders and said “okay nice tits”; the stupid conversation continued until they arrived to the café.

“So Tommy nice balls what’s your movie about” Alessandra said after ordering, “It’s the hunger games prequel” Tom said without wanting to give much detail because he knew he couldn’t so he tried to guide the conversation somewhere else; they talked about Alessandra’s work in the ballet company, she told Tom about the fall-winter schedule and maybe if he was in town he could go and see one show even tough she felt immediate regret because of Tom’s reaction talking about how he didn’t know what his schedule would be and that maybe he wouldn’t make it so he won’t make any promises, the Italian girl knew she wasn’t that important to him but she wanted to at least show him what she did for living. The lunch “date” was everything she could’ve wish for, they ate this croissant sandwich that he had to take some pictures of, they talked so much about life, what their dreams were, Alessandra told him about her plan of applying for the royal ballet in London or the American ballet theater in New York but she still had to finish the current season, at the end of the lunch, while Tom was being over dramatic about something that happened on set she saw how he phone screen lighted up and a text from someone saved as 

“Babe” appeared on the screen.

For the first time in a while Alessandra didn’t know to feel, of course they weren’t something serious not even a situationship but still she felt like a knot was forming in her stomach, saying something wasn’t an option she didn’t had any right to ask him about it so Alessandra decided to act like she didn’t see that and everything was perfect; after paying and walking out of the small café Tom tried to grab her hand but she made the excuse that it was freezing so putting her hands in her pockets were the only option, “so what do you want to do know” Tom said with a face she couldn’t describe, maybe he noticed something was off with her but she didn’t wanted to give it away, “To be honest I’m a little bit tired so if you want we can go back to my place and watch a movie or something, I know I’ll be home alone for the rest of the day” she said in a stupid impulse, he enjoyed his company and at the end she wanted to at least be friendly until she knew more about “Babe”. They walked to her place joking and talking, it felt like they’ve known each other for all their lives and she loved that both had a similar sense of humor, as they enter the small apartment Alessandra hanged her coat and asked tom for his, “Do you wanna watch the hunger games or billy the kid” she said making fun of him “I love that scene in billy the kid were everyone can see your ass” Tom was shocked but wouldn’t back down either “I’m really proud of my ass, I think the light reflected so beautiful on it” he said making the Italian girl laugh so hard she could felt how she was losing her breathe, they ended up watching this cute romcom she was obsessed with call “love,Rosie”, Tom had a lot of opinions bout how the main character was an asshole and they just needed to ask the other about how they felt ever and that made Alessandra think how his exact words were the same situation they were living.”Well I better get going tomorrow is going to be a long day in set” tom said to then kiss the short girl, took his stuff and got out the apartment. 

When Tom was gone Alessandra looked him up on instagram checking his comment section to see if she could found any comment that would lead her to “babe”, she knew that all she was doing was crazy but the curiosity was eating her alive but this was something she needed to do; Alessandra read all the comments on all his post but every women that commented was either a fan or a friend so she started to think that maybe she had read that wrong and maybe it didn’t said babe but she was sure of what she saw.

Tom Blyth posted a story 

Alessandra Di maggio answered the story 

Oooh you went out with someone to eat croissants 

Tom Blyth 

Yes yes with a cute Italian girl but almost had to grab a high chair for her.

Alessandra Di maggio

You are such a funny guy 🙄

Alessandra decided to post some fun pic of her last couple of weeks also a great bikini pic that went with the aesthetic, specially a pic she took of Tom massaging her feet the night they watched films in her apartment and fuck his hands were HOT, also a pic she took in their night out of him dancing on a table.

Liked by tomblyth, giuli_123 and 1,992 others

Alessssa REd BabE or something like that

Tomblyth great masseur you got there

   alessssa might book another session for this week

giuli_123 coke add?

  alessssa yes, and?

Username1 hottest girl alive

Username2 live your best life girl

Liked by alessa, rachelzegler and 106,823 others

Tomblyth Dumb blonde out and about 

Username1 from who are those hands hun????

  Usename2 must be Rachel

     Username3 she doesn’t have long hair rn

Hunterschafer your almost a Berlin boy now

 (Tom liked the comment)

Username4 RUE WHEN WAS THIS????

alessssa fav natural blonde

   Tomblyth 100% natural, grow by me

     Username5 babe who’s this

       Username6 private profile??

         Username7 grow up, men can have friends

Joshandrerivera living your best life Tommy boy

    (Tom liked the comment)

Rachezegler that’s some nice red polish

    Username8 right?????

      Username9 those are your hands???

        Username10 MOTHER

After the date they had or well she didn’t know what to called what was that but she had an amazing time with Tom but she couldn’t get out of her head the thought of him having someone else in the States, she knew this wasn’t something serious but she didn’t want to be the other woman, that’s why she decided to text him get the conversation started and ask him about that.

Alessandra Di Maggio

So do you have a girl in every country you work in?

My British Boy (Tom)

That’s not funny Alessandra 🙄

Do you think I’m a fuck boy?

Alessandra Di Maggio 

Don’t call me Alessandra🙄🙄

I’m not judging

My british Boy (Tom)

That’s your name pretty girl

I won’t call you a Alessandra if you won’t call me fuck boy

Alessandra Di Maggio

I promise you I won’t call you a fuck boy

But being serious you don’t have a girl back home?

 (Delivered 2:22 am)