#and is the reason why the No Place gang almost sunk like a few times

[coco0milkshake]

Gonna be spreading my ‘Rusty befriends and takes care of Nine’ propaganda because I REFUSE to believe they leave him alone in the Grim

[angelamajiki]

[ peace treaty - part two ]

AN: my first banner that I made for a fic!! Please enjoy and mind the tags as always!! :)

CW: yandere, noncon, loss of virginity, double penetration, coercion, gang bang, A/B/O dynamics, size difference, slight tummy bulge, cum stuffing, breeding

PART ONE

SYNOPSIS: The wedding to ensure peace for your kingdom was underway. Your alphas had been insistent that you met your new pack and give your virginity to them the night of your wedding. You could only wonder why.

The village of the Barbarian tribe was full of the hustle and bustle of wedding preparations being made for their leading Alphas and their newfound Omega mate. You could hear the rushing of bodies outside the tented den the pair kept you confined to. They were insistent on keeping you within their firm grasp, their watchful eyes at all times. It was exhausting, so say the least. The time spent in the village was theirs, not your own. Their tenderness almost made you forget the circumstances on which you fell into their laps. Almost.

Hardly anyone else in the village had seen you thanks to your red-headed mate. Dragons rarely let anyone but their pack near their hoard, and Eijirou was more than happy to declare you his most precious treasure of all, the centerpiece of his store. The hybrid was tempted to keep you with the rest of his treasures, but his other mate decided against it, demanding that you stay warm in the nest during the blistering winter that ravaged the mountain range.

They kept in the nest for as long as you would tolerate it, adoring the way you looked wrapped snuggly in the furs they had slain and prepared for you. The den was soon furnished with a small library for your curious mind, one of many wedding presents that your mates intended to spoil you with. Your mates were desperate for your approval, to preen and puff their chests in pride from your praise. In fact, one of the only times you were let out before the wedding was to watch wrestling matches between the Alphas of the clan and their leaders on the warmer days. It was a prominent display of strength, the pair hoping to impress their lovely mate with their fists and muscles. The other times, they had taken you to Eijirou’s cave to flaunt his hoard, which they welcomed you to take anything you liked from it as it was now yours too.

Winter flew by quickly. In those few months, preparations for your spring wedding were well underway as your mates took their agonizing time to stake their claim on you. The pair of them were insistent on waiting until the wedding night to be fully bonded but did not spare you any pleasure they wished to bestow you. The ecstasy they brought you night after night was earth-shattering, something you never even dreamed you could have achieved.

A spring wedding was to be had, and the wait was finally over. Your dress was designed of the most delicate silk hand-made in the tribe, dipped in beautiful red and gold dyes to match your mate's garments. Precious jewels and other gold jewelry was selected from the dragon's hoard by none other than Eijirou himself. Traditional paint was brushed onto your face and arms with expert craftsmanship, adorning your glowing skin with the clan's insignia and other symbols held dear to the Barbarians.

Meeting your mates down the aisle and finally being wed to them felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. For months, you had worried that their threat to destroy your home would see to its fruition, but now that you're finally their wife and mate, the treaty had been completed. Perhaps your mates would be kind enough to let you see your family after the celebration.

Festivities were planned for days to celebrate the new queen and pack mate of the tribe’s leaders. Being out of the den and meeting the clansmen felt like a breath of fresh air after being secluded for those few months up until the wedding. You could only hope that your husbands would allow this new freedom to continue.

Food, drink, and dancing went well into the early morning hours before you decided it was time to retire to your den. Buzzing with anticipation, you let Katsuki lead you home with a scarred hand on the small of your back, reminding you just how small you were in comparison to your Alphas. Tonight was the night that you submitted utterly and entirely to your mates. It was overwhelming, almost enough to give you cold feet.

Upon returning to the tented den, you were met with your new pack, the Alphas that Eijirou and Katsuki introduced you to earlier that day during the ceremony. TestsuTetsu, leader of the clan’s warriors. Sero and Denki, leading blacksmiths and protectors of the armory. Izuku, also known as Deku, leading military strategist. And Hitoshi, the tribe’s mage.

The tent’s magic flaps had sealed themselves once you and your mates made it inside with the rest of the pack, who were already waiting for you. Unease had swelled in your gut as you saw the hungry gleams in all the Alpha's eyes. Did they have the intention to watch while you bonded with your mates?

“Be easy, my love.”

Eijirou’s hands came to your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you as he guided you to your nest.

“Although you will be our mate, you will still be the pack’s omega.”

You nodded slowly, having already understood that much, but it still didn't explain why the rest of the pack was suffocating the space of your den.

“That means you will have to form a bond with all of us. We intend to share you with the pack tonight.”

Panic filled your being as you stood up from the nest, only to be pinned down into the redhead’s lap with his powerful arms. His hands rubbed soothing circles in your arms as he felt you squirm in his hold.

“There’s no reason to be afraid, my queen!” Izuku piped up as he flashed a reassuring smile. “This is the best way to ensure that you will give healthy pups to the pack and the clan.”

Tears and pleas dribbled out as you thrashed in your Alpha’s arms, desperate to claw your way out of his grip and away from the new pack.

“Stop yer fussin’,” Katsuki grunted as he took his place next to the both of you. “We’ll be right here the whole time. Besides, it’ll be a good way for the pack to bond. We wouldn't want anything to happen to your territory, now would we?”

Chuckles filled the room as you sobbed in absolute terror.

“Please! I don't want this! Don't make me do this; I'm begging you!”

A fatal mistake on your part is that you forgot who these men were. Barbarians who snatched, steal, and take whatever they please, whenever they please. Your mates were capable of tenderness, but only when it seemed to benefit them. And it didn't at this moment.

Eijirou was quick to quell your cries as he stroked your hair gently while Katsuki tied your hands together. The redhead whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to soothe his lovely omega. You were practically hog-tied into your nest as the blonde ripped your dress to shreds with his magic, your struggling between the pair of them frustrating him deeply.

“Enough fucking around. Omega, submit.”

Unable to deny such a command, you went still under your overbearing husband. How quickly he changed once you truly denied him for the first time...it frightened you. The men around you tried to croon and calm, wanting to put your wailing cries at ease. You had barely been touched and you already felt violated by being naked and bound before your new pack. Oh, things you had to endure to protect your kingdom.

Katsuki was overzealous, eager to be the first to pop your cherry and finally feel the velvet of his omega’s hole. A searing mouth sealed itself over your clit as thick fingers worked you open. Your mate was relentless, fucking your hole with vigor as his tongue sucked and lapped against your clit. The wanton groaning of the other Alphas met your squeals and cries as you clenched around your mate’s fingers, wishing desperately to sink into your nest of furs and never return.

Eijirou kissed you deeply, stroking away your tears and holding your chin in his scarred palm. The other Alphas hands groped, massaged, and grabbed at your supple skin, leaving no inch untouched. All of them ignored your sobbing, electing to see past your suffering for the good of the pack.

“So beautiful.”

“What a great pick you two made.”

“Hurry up and mount her Kats! I want to get in there too!”

Your Alpha continued his brutal pace of finger fucking and suckling on your clit, groaning and grunting as he slurped at you greedily. A tight coil of pleasure built in your core as you helplessly moaned and cried into Eijirou’s mouth. Katsuki felt your impending orgasm and pulled his mouth away in favor of rubbing your clit hard and fast with his unoccupied hand. He chuckled, watching you squirm and squeal loudly before coming undone, squirting all over his chest in the process.

The Alphas jeered and praised you for a good show as Katsuki chuckled.

“Now that’s what I’m fuckin’ talking about. Good girl, little omega. Ready for knot?”

A wolfish grin cast on his features as he hiked your ankles up to his shoulders. Cock lines up with your still twitching whole; he sunk into your tight heat in one stroke of his hips. A breathy gasp left you as you were filled to the brink.

The pace he set with his thrusts was unforgiving; a bruising grip laid on your love handles as you were pounded into the nest, making a mess of the furs strewn across it. Snarls and grunts left your captor’s lips all the while. The other Alphas around you stroked their cocks heartily, eagerly waiting for their turns to have a go and breed their new pack omega. Squeals and cries of unwanted pleasure quickly filled your gut as you came again, forcing you to arch your back into the blonde’s chest. Overstimulation hit you like a freight train as your mate continued to chase his own pleasure.

Eijirou brushed the hair from your sweaty forehead and swiped gently at your tears, watching his two mates finally tie the knot and love each other in the most primal, intimate ways they knew. What a fine choice for a mate you turned out to be—loyal, lovely, loud. Your sobs and cries of pleasure were music to the dragon’s ears, adoring the way you shook and convulsed underneath the other Alpha. Toying with your nipples gently, he shushed your protests with a kiss and held his free hand to your throat, stroking the sides tenderly.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was practically feral, animalistic in his movements as he popped his knot into your tight cunt with a roar of your name. Ropes of hot seed painted your womb as he held you tightly in his arms, riding his orgasm out to completion.

Nothing but groans and pants could be heard for a few moments as your Alpha bent down to lay a claiming mark on the glands of your neck. He tore into the flesh with passion, leaving a trail of blood that dripped down your sweaty chest. Laving at the mark with his tongue, he sealed the bond and slurped up the blood. Extending his neck, he pushed your head into his crook.

“Bite, complete the bond.”

Like an obedient breeding bitch, you listened mindlessly, mind foggy with the haze of your orgasms.

After his knot had deflated, Eijirou moved to mount your sloppy hole.

“Guess the rest of you are getting my sloppy seconds,” Katsuki smirked, admiring the way his seed dripped from your now loose hole.

Eijirou was more tender than his counterpart, taking his time with his sweet, sweet lovemaking. Possessive and sweet nothings were moaned and groaned from him—bite marks littered your chest and mouth. His thrusts with slow and deep, wanting a slow build to both of your orgasms as he lavished you in his undivided attention. Kisses and bites were pressed sweetly to your lips, and his tongue tasted the salt of your skin.

Your whimpers and moans mingled with his deep, rolling groans while the others were content to watch such a passionate display of Eijirou’s adoration for his Omega. Laying his claim as he came, the knot popped the moment as he bit into your wrist, suckling at the wound he left behind. Even after he deflated, he cockwarmed you for a while so you could rest and have a much-needed drink of water.

After Eijirou’s cock slipped out of your cunt, the rest was a murky blur in your memory. Izuku followed your redheaded mate, losing himself quickly to the vice of your wet and sloppy pussy. He came rather quickly, apologizing for only finishing himself off. He had to, for the sake of pups, of course. Not that any of their words mattered to you, you were too drunk off the mating bonds your mates laid into your virgin skin.

TetsuTetsu succeeded Izuku, and much like Katsuki, he was an animal. Loud slaps of skin filled the den as he praised you for being such a good omega for your Alphas. Bear them your healthy pups like a good girl, won't you? His stamina was high, too high for your liking. Slipping in and out of consciousness, you barely made recognition to his knot swelling in your hole. He was by far the biggest of the pack. Another load pumped into the pack’s personal cumdumpster, but he made sure to make you squeal and squirt on his cock.

Any defiance in you had died by the time Sero and Denki speared you on their cocks. What they lacked in girth, they made up for in length. They both greedily stuffed themselves into your pussy at the same time, one rubbing your clit while the other tugged at your nipples. Only one knot caught inside you while Denki’s popped just below your clit, making an even bigger mess to your already sloppy pussy.

Finally, Hitoshi cast a fertility ward on your womb, marked by the pack’s emblem to ensure pregnancy and a healthy one at that. An average knot, he finished himself within your already full womb, a small bulge appearing in your gut because of it. A plug was stuffed inside you to keep the pack’s seed deep within your cunt, to ensure pregnancy of the pack’s pups.

Once the sun broke over the dawn of the mountains, the pack exited the tent to leave you to your Alphas. They spent the morning bathing and feeding you, wanting to pamper you after such an exciting yet stressful evening. The pair hoped you would come around to be shared by the pack; how else will they get you through your heats and their ruts? That's a problem for another day, they supposed.

After a long, well-deserved rest in a now cleaned nest, Eijirou was ecstatic to share the news of their newest surprise. A honeymoon! Oh, the places they planned to fly you to.

As you listened to their plans, you couldn't help but gaze off into the next morning’s sun, wondering if this life was worth it for the sake of peace.

[seijorhi]

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

[echo-of-sounds]

you don’t make it to the bedroom pt.2

Small smut drabbles of having a quickie with Hizashi and Gang Orca.

Yamada Hizashi

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate everyone,” you carped, lugging your bag onto the table. Your laptop clunked loudly, but you could not care less and tossed your jacket over it, hiding the stupid work from your eyes.

“Everyone?”

“Yes.” You wanted to sound angry. The arms circling your waist prevented that, easing your voice. The lips also helped. So didn’t the lean chest pressing to your back. You leaned into his kisses, muttering, “Not everyone I guess.”

Hizashi rubbed your sides, humming some song you couldn’t place. It quickly calmed your mind, maybe a little too much. The arousal wedging between you was a bonus. He softly mused into your ear, “Why don’t you let me help. Sit on the table for me, baby.”

You spun and hopped up, spreading your legs. Gracefully fingers reached under your skirt and removed your underwear. It was replaced with his mouth, kissing your clit, pumping it with his lips. His quirk amplified his lip’s vibrations as he whispered against you, “Your pussy’s taste so fucking good-” His tongue flowed fully, broadly into you a few times. “-So fucking good.”

He cradled your thighs, keeping his access wide open. Loose hair blocked his eyes. You brushed it back to see them closed, focusing on sucking your clit. His nose pressed close. He was mumbling something, but you didn’t bother listening, completely content with just feeling the attention.

One suck ended in a bite. You gasped, dropping your head back, forearms resting on the table. You breathed for him, “Come here.”

In the span of a second, Hizashi stood, pulled himself out, and pushed inside, moaning with you. He untucked your shirt and effortlessly, swiftly unbutton all the buttons. It hung open, giving him liberty to pry your bra down and suck on your breasts.

Once attached, he began thrusting. He sunk heavily and withdrew abruptly. It was hurried, uneven, and just what you needed. Your fingers drifted into his pants to dig your nails into his ass’s skin. A groan sounded right before biting your nipple. It drove your nails deeper, in turn goading his hips to hump harder.

You moaned his name. The thrusts turned upward, forcing lewd sounds from both of you, especially from both of your lips, lecherous and needy. “Holy fuck, right there.”

Hizashi kept the motion. The table creaked with your bodies. Something prodded your spine. You paid it no mind, scratching up his back to his shoulder blades, hiking his shirt with you, messing his clothing just like he did yours. The cold metal of his belt jolted your clit, flattening, pinning painfully and wonderfully.

“Fuck, Hizashi, fuck, keep going,” you gushed.

He groaned at your nail’s continuous pricking but refused to release from your nipple, sucking sensitive skin raw. A few more tough thrusts later, you found your high, moaning into, marking up, and humping with him until your muscles slouched.

You gathered his hair tight as he nursed, rutting your laxed body. He suddenly slipped out. You jerked him off, watching while he came onto your skirt, still suckling, breathing intensely through his nose. Teeth closed in.

You half-laughed, half hissed, “Hizashi, you need to let go.”

His lips stiffened around your nipple. He remained between your legs, now hugging your waist, cuddling your chest. You relaxed to the table, choosing to let him stay, having no energy or real reason to fight with him.

Gang Orca

The door closed. The lock clicked. Kugo snagged your hand, stopping you from heading into the bedroom, and twirled you back to him. A tongue landed on your neck. You laughed, “What’s up, Kugo?”

“This dress looks beautiful on you,” he hummed. A finger traced up your exposed thigh to the top of your hips, playing with the long, flowing material. “I’m unsure if you noticed the man at the table beside us. He kept looking at your legs.” His tongue flicked your lips. “All night long.”

“I didn’t notice. I was staring at you the whole time,” you condoled as you loosened his tie. Your fingers stroked out from his neck, across his broad shoulders, and fondled his wide biceps. The shirt didn’t hide their power.

“So was I.” You smiled at his softened eyes. His tongue took the opportunity to brush into your mouth. Its heft prompted a moan and provoked your hips to press against his legs. One thigh tried to push forward, but it caught on the long dress.

Kugo didn’t fight with it. Instead, he picked you up by your sides. You hugged his neck and wrapped your legs around him. The dress draped off to the sides, allowing his hips to meet your panties. The protective jealousy seeped downward and through his pants.

You sighed around his tongue at his unusual boldness. It drifted farther. Your back connected to a wall, and it edged almost too deep. You couldn’t ask anything with it inside. Not that you minded. It was a welcomed change of pace.

Hands moved to your thighs, holding you flush to him. Blindly and blunderingly, you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. A groan rumbled when you pulled him out. He sat thick, firm, and solid on your palm. Your fingers didn’t circle him while you frisked him and yourself, preparing for the stretch.

But eagerness took over. Both of you were ready- very, very ready. You pulled your underwear to the side, lined him up, and slowly tried to nudge him in, wetly whimpering at the strain.

The stifling, washing tongue finally left your mouth. Kugo rasped, “Don’t force it. I don’t want-”

He popped in. You yelped. He huffed, banging a fist to the wall as he rushed inside, your weight sinking you halfway. He asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.”

Your body was shifted into a better position, waiting for the slight pang to fade. It eased with his tongue lapping your neck. Taking it to mean you were good enough, you started grinding. It was a little awkward in his hold, but his size still gave plenty of pleasure. Yet he remained still. You whined his name.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Kugo, please… I’m almost…” You gasped at the tiniest buck. “God, just start.”

Claws hooked your ass and he took his first thrust. You swore and cursed and cussed as they continued, slamming up into your thighs, jostling your back against the wall. Each one dove deeper and deeper, harassing your front wall beautifully.

His chest flattened to yours. Heat trapped between you, stifling your moans. He rutted your body, drumming, heaving, “I’m already…”

“Fuck, me too.” You clung to and bit his shirt through the ride. Water coated your eyes at the tension. But it was nothing compared to how wet you felt once he came, releasing everything into you, not slowing until you followed, ripping at his arms, moaning through your teeth.

The slosh and slapping died as quick as all of this started. You felt full and sticky despite some of it drizzling out of you, gluing to your skin and dress.

“Oh my God.” you sighed. Your fingers wouldn’t grip any longer. Your legs slacked.

“Sorry for acting so hastily.”

“Don’t be. That was great.”

Kugo copied your drowsiness, expanding his chest with a yawn. He then carried you to the bedroom, keeping himself inside you the whole walk.

[joestarwhore]

Risotto Nero - A Price to Pay

{Being the only girl in the Bucci Gang has its perks. Your familia loved you, & were fiercely protective- but what’re they supposed to do when another Capo decides to have you to himself? He’s gotta have you.}

{one way or another.}

_____________________________________

“Bucciarati were almost to Napoli, should I head straight for the city or the safe house?”

Fugo’s sharp voice woke you from your nap. You & the team have been traveling for days tracking three stand users who’ve been smuggling contraband out of Passioné’s grasp. So far, the trail has led to Napoli- and to make it worse, no one knows what they look like. But luckily, you had the name of the man in charge of the operation.

“Go to the safe house. They’re not going to move anything in broad daylight, & we haven’t been able to stop for an actual break.” Bruno circled the location on Fugo’s map. “We can spare a few hours.”

You looked to your right to see Mista asleep against the window, drool slowly coming out of his mouth. You would’ve laughed if you had any right to, with the glimpse of yourself you caught in the rear view you were surprised no one woke you up with a camera flash.

You stretched your neck side to side, your movements slowly bringing your body back to life. You could hear Giorno, Abbachio, and Narancia gently start stirring to life as Bruno continued to talk about the location, not being able to keep in their loud ass yawns. Well, honestly, that was only Narancia’s problem.

Bruno swiveled the seat to face the back, his perfect black bob not moving an inch while he does it. “Now that we’re in Napoli, it’s time to be debriefed about our current situation. Would one of you please wake Mista?”

Abbachio wasted no time to slap Mista in the back of the head, causing Mista to lurch forward with a yelp. His hand immediately went to the back of his head as he whipped around towards Abbachio. “What the hell, you dumbass!! What was that for??”

“For debriefing you idiot, pay attention.”

You giggled, resulting in a hearty “Shut up!” from Mista. After Bruno’s scolding, he started to explain the facts.

“The intelligence we received stated that the man controlling the contraband operation is a Capo. His name is Risotto Nero, the leader of La Squandra. He’s been known to defy the Familia before, so it’d make sense that he would be the one running this show.”

Bruno’s face slowly grimmed as he continued, pausing after he spoke. “While he is a traitor to the Familia, he is also one of the most powerful Capo’s in the organization. Not just because of his title, but because of his stand.”

The tension grew substantially.

“What’s his stand, Boss? Does anyone have an idea?” Narancias question rung in the air like a bell.

“No. Because no ones lived to tell about it.”

The chill that ran down your spine was unnerving. No one knows what his stand is?? No one has even the slightest idea?? How can that be?

“Boss, how’re we supposed to find this cazzo when all we have to go on is a name?” you ask, “How’re we supposed to defend ourselves against a stand that no one has ever beat?”

“By keeping your stand close. Giorno’s Golden Wind can sense life, and Narancia can track anything that breathes. Abbachio’s Moody Jazz could very well be our ace in the hole, if we can simply find where he’s been- but that’s hard to do when you’re following a ghost.”

God, that wasn’t reassuring.

Soon, Fugo’s road rage landed you at the safe house, a 3 story cabin in the middle of the woods. Mista’s excitement blossomed as soon as he saw the giant flatscreen through the window, everyone else’s did when they finally got to leave the stuffy ass van.

Abbachio helped you out of the car, letting you hang on to his arm until you’ve cracked all the bones you needed to feel relief. “Thank you Abba, I’ve been needing to do that for a while now!”

Abbachio threw you a smirk. “Yeah yeah don’t get gross on me.” He could throw up any facade he wants- you see right through his badass tough guy wall. You gave him a grin back, & grabbed your duffel bag out from under your seat. You looked back to see that the other boys had already made it inside, Bruno & Giorno already setting up the radio & laptops to start working.

Bruno def wasn’t playing around when he was looking for a place to buy. This was the nicest cabin you had ever seen, pure dark wood walls with marble flooring, a grand staircase with a BEAUTIFUL bay window?? Capo DEFINITELY had perks.

***************

[3:33 AM]

You bolted awake as thunder and lightning surrounded your bedroom. Your mind frantic as the open curtains revealed howling winds and light flashing through the skies.

You took some deep breaths and calmed yourself down. It’s only a storm, nothing to- why was your door open?

Adrenaline started to churn in your stomach as you swung your legs over your bed. You stepped carefully towards the hallway, peeking down to see that everyone else’s doors were open too. You tip toed down, peering into Bruno & Abbachio’s rooms, seeing them both empty; and upon further inspection, so were Giorno’s and Mista’s. Narancia and Fugo’s following suit.

Where the fuck is everyone, and why are you not with them?

You back tracked down the hall, your legs shaking as you slowly walked down the stairs.

Were you being attacked?

The lightning lit your path down the stairs as you kept your eyes peeled for anything out of place. As you came down to the first platform, the stench of blood overwhelmed your senses, making your eyes grown wide and your hand go over your mouth and nose. This cannot be real, why is blood in the air??

“You know when I first saw you, I thought you were an angel among the saints & sinners of Napoli.”

Your hand gripped the banister as you stood in defense, looking everywhere for the source of the deep voice. Who was that?? Where the fuck is your team??

“& Then I saw Ghiaccio getting in a fight with another Mafioso. I thought it was just one of Bucciaratis boys, but oh was i so close yet so wrong.”

You slowly made your way down stairs, “I guess your a big fan of mine then, quite a shame I can’t see where you are for such occasion.”

A deep chuckle resonated through the estate. “Our life together will be wonderful, I am very sure.”

“The fuck are you-“

Your stomach dropped.

The blood. The gashes. The gore.

All of the boys were hanging by their hands, bloody chains protruding from their wrists and connecting them to the ceiling. Blood oozed from Fugos mouth, while Narancias unconscious form clearly had a broken nose and extreme loss of blood. They all were simply.. hanging by a thread.

“Jesus fucking Christ.. you’re fuc-fucking kidding..”

Invisible hands hold onto your sides as your body freezes in shock, the pressure and heat of them telling you they were quite large. Your heart beater out of your chest as you felt a muscular set of abs press against your back, those hands weaving over your chest to hold down your arms.

“Do you see, Amore? Do you see how powerful I am compared to them?” Your eyes tore away from the bloodied boys, closing them as tightly as you could. “When I saw how powerful you were and how you carried yourself, I knew we were soul mates. I had to have you. I had to have your body, your mind,” His hand rubbed gently against your clothes crotch, shooting heated adrenaline to your core, “& your pretty little cunt just full of my kids.”

Your cheeks turned violently red as you staggered to breathe. “Who..are you..”

Lips pressed against your temple as a deep chuckle vibrated your body. “Darling, I’m the whole reason you’re out here.”

Your heart froze.

“Risotto?? It’s you?!”

Suddenly two black clothed muscular arms appeared around you, one of them tilting your chin back to reveal two black and red eyes staring straight at you. “Surprised, Cara?”

You started to panic, the danger of your situation settling in. Bruno, Giorno, all of the boys, were out of action. There was no help for you, and you couldn’t summon your stand like this. Was this simply the end? Was he just saving you for last for his sick fantasy??

“Please.. what do you even want from me??”

Risotto put your hands behind your back and tied them together. “What I’ve wanted since I saw you; a life. With just you & me.” He placed you on a chair, kneeling before you with his hands tracing you and your skin. Your breath hitched as he ran over certain spots, his eyes growing darker and darker the more you react. You had to do something, you couldn’t let your family be killed over someone’s obsession over you.

“I’m going with you whether I like it or not, right?”

Risotto chuckled a humorless laugh. “A smart one! Oh i like that, I like that. Maybe our kids will get that trait.”

Dread sunk in your stomach. There’s no escape, is there?

“If I go with you, willingly with no struggle- will you allow me to use my stand on them so they atleast don’t die of their injuries?”

Risotto stared at you, looking for any sign of betrayal, but he wasn’t gonna find anything. You knew there wasn’t a way out, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance in hell against him. Atleast if you can save the boys, there wouldn’t be any death.

“Fine. But one slip up, Amore, and I’ll make your condition worse than theirs.”

Risotto unbinded your arms, helping you stand up and get your balance again. You walked towards the boys until you were a few meters away from them. You could sense their shallow breathing from your powers, you knew if you were gonna do this you had to act fast.

“Iron Maiden.”

A steam punk victorian girl emerged behind you, wielding a glowing white scythe, its jet black hair flowing behind her.

“Scythes Blessing.”

Iron Maiden hovered to the front of you, your scythe glowing bright white as it swung a mass of energy towards them all. Their wounds mended together, the blood returning to their bodies. After the act was done, the boys passed out on the floor, surely to wake up in a few hours.

“Now, we start our life, my sweet angel.”

Tears silently went down your cheeks as you turned to the beautiful, evil man. His eyes showed a softness towards you as he extended his giant hand. Your dainty one took his, holding it as he led you to the door.

“Where are you taking me?”

Risotto swung open the huge doors to reveal the storm still actively raging, his matte black sports car in the circle drive. “Home, cara. Our home.”

You hurried to get in his front seat, Risotto closing your door and going to the drivers door. He got in, revving the car to life and pulled the car out of the drive way. Risotto placed his hand on your thigh as he took you away from the estate. Your heart hurt for your boys, but this was for the best, right? Atleast this way they’re safe. They’re safe.

“Say your goodbyes Cara. Your life starts over with me.”

“Only me.”

[enapouyou]

My little stone guardian

(Sorry if there are spelling mistakes, english isn’t my language. The story is translated from French )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had succeeded.

Well, almost...

Puddles of paint littered the floor, their various colours contrasting with the black that was slowly taking over the place. The gentle warmth of the universe gave way to a cold, icy wind, making the bones of those who dared not move tremble. But was it really the cold that made them tremble... ?

A thud broke the silence, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground. Then came the sound of footsteps, slow, uncertain. They seemed to go on forever, as if the goal to be reached was constantly receding. And finally, a scream, a howl, tearing apart the time that seemed to have stopped. A scream, a single word, a single name...

- DREAM !!!!!!!!!

Frozen in the middle of what used to be their battlefield, amidst bones stuck in the ground, paint soaked into the grass, blasters that had come to rest, the guardian of positivity had returned to a state no one thought possible.

Arriving first at his side, Ink's hands were shaking, slowly coming to rest on the cheeks of a stone statue, feeling a few tears slide down the cold surface. Behind him, Blue stood still, replaying the events, trying to understand how this umpteenth battle against the bads sanses could have ended this way.

On the other side, a laugh finally rang out. That of the brother of the new stone statue. Nightmare hadn't planned this, wanting instead to kill his brother to get the golden apple, but... Now that he thought about it, it had taken his brother two hundred years to come out of the stone the first time. So he had plenty of time to plunge the world into chaos. Plenty of time to create a world full of negative feelings. Plenty of time to prepare to welcome his brother back and come up with a plan to finally catch that apple that was currently trapped in the stone as well.

Beside him, his three faithful henchmen were also staring at the scene, exchanging a few glances. They too did not think that this time their fight would surely be the last. They were pulled out of their thoughts when Nightmare snapped his fingers, looking at them with a huge grin before opening a portal to DreamTale, inviting them home to celebrate. Dust and Horror did not hesitate, passing through the portal with their boss, but Killer remained still for a moment. He watched as Blue joined Ink and mourned their friend's condition. Within him, the feelings were quite contradictory as he looked at the guardian of the golden apple, frozen with his arms open and that sweet smile on his face despite the tears, having tried to reason with his brother again... Without success... A call from the portal snapped him out of his thoughts, turning to Nightmare who was staring at him, ordering him to return with a single dark look. Killer felt his soul clench, taking one last look at the stone statue before rejoining the gang, the portal closing just as he passed, the sound of Ink's threat of revenge.

~

In the distance, he watched his colleagues fighting. Once again, their mission was to go and fill a universe with negative feelings and once again, stars sanses had come to try and stop them. It was becoming a habit, a game... But a dangerous game. The attacks were real and their intentions were to really hurt them... But still, stars sanses continued to just want to reason with them, only attacking in case of major force and always with the aim of immobilizing them, with the least damage possible. And he knew that it was Dream who asked them to do this... Because Dream really believed he could save them.

- Don't you fight, Killer?

The voice had sounded behind him and without even turning around, the madman knew that the guardian of positive feelings had arrived behind him.

- I don't feel like it. He replied calmly. I already know how it's going to end. It's getting boring.

Not detecting any aggression in the skeleton with empty eye sockets, Dream approached to level with him, observing in turn the four others fighting nearby.

- Why do you keep obeying Nightmare then? Dream tried.

Beside him, Killer remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on his colleagues.

- Because he saved me. I owe him, whether you like it or not, little Guardian. Maybe if you'd been the first to come for me that day, I'd be with you.

He turned his gaze on the golden-pupilled skeleton, who felt no dominant emotions. He seemed neither happy nor sad that Nightmare was the first to take him out of his world when he wanted to RESET him by erasing himself from his own world.

- This war is none of your business... Dream whispered. This is between Nightmare and me... You should be neutral to all this, but he had to make you feel like he saved you to get you on his side...

Deep down, Dream blamed himself for not being the first to find them. That he couldn't have saved them otherwise. But while he was lost in his thoughts, Killer laughed beside him.

- You're wrong, little Guardian. We don't just do this out of debt. We love it too.

Dream remained silent for a moment, watching Killer with a feeling of contradiction. He felt nothing, not even a little joy. His voice was neutral, tired, without much conviction.

- Is it true?

- Of course it is. Look in front of you. Dust and Horror take pleasure in knocking you off your feet.

- No, Killer. I was asking for you. Are you really enjoying this?

~

Time seemed to be getting longer and longer. Each day was repetitive, boring. Since Dream had become a stone statue again, the days were boring. Nightmare was at full strength, making Ink and Blue's fight almost futile.

They beat them every time, watching the last two stars retreat to avoid serious injury. And that was every time they crossed paths. It had no interest, no flavour anymore...

But on the other hand, as Killer watched his colleagues, he saw himself as the only one who found the moments boring. Nightmare was getting stronger all the time, Dust loved to go out and attack universes, and Horror was happy to have more time to go hunting for food. But Killer was bored... Taking no pleasure in attacking others. He just wanted to get away from those darned repetitive days.

Many universes had sunk into fear, hatred, the inhabitants no longer having any remorse to fight to maintain an illusion of security for their families. Bads sanses were names that made more and more people tremble, causing chaos and terror. And despite Ink and Blue's best efforts, the number of universes controlled by fear grew steadily, as if hope had vanished.

Everything was too easy.

Sitting on the bed in his room, Killer played with his dagger, twirling it on his knuckle before throwing it to catch it by the handle. He let out a long sigh, beginning to lose interest. The missions had no flavor anymore, Ink and Blue were a shadow of their former selves, too weakened by their search to save their friend.

Eventually the madman dropped his knife and got up to grab his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders and walking out of his room. As he moved through the corridors, he dodged the Papyrus of corruption that were the servants and that were growing in number, witnessing the growing power of their master. These lifeless puppets did not interest Killer either. He was too bland, far from being able to fill his boredom.

Through the window, the round-souled skeleton could see the red sky of DreamTale growing stronger and stronger. The shadows were also taking more ground, turning the place a little more into a universe where negativity was king.

He had won...

Eventually exiting the castle, Killer opened a gate, wanting to take a moment to wander off. Yet, while he was sure he had no idea, as he passed through the gate, his gaze fell on the stone statue.

Dream had not moved. Too heavy but at the same time too fragile to be handled by Ink and Blue. Even Nightmare didn't want to break it, fearing he would lose the golden apple if he killed Dream like that. So he stood there with his arms open and a welcoming smile on his face. Only his tears had disappeared since that famous day.

Killer stood still for a moment, staring at this being trapped in the stone. The images of the fight of that day came back to him. He could hear Dream's pleas for peace, for change. Then came the attack, sharp, almost invisible. No one had seen it, but the sound of stone beginning to freeze Dream had stopped everyone. The guardian had first looked at his feet and then straightened his face towards his brother, holding out his arms and smiling at him despite the tears.

Killer had to give him that. Dream was strong, much stronger than they were. He hadn't been afraid, not for a moment. And even as he turned to stone, he continued to hold out his arms, his hand. The same hand that Killer had gently agreed to take from time to time, when Nightmare wasn't looking.

And he'd discovered an entirely different Dream. A guardian consumed with worry, fear, but not of dying, no... Fear of losing those around him. Even those enemies.

~

- Why do you want to help us?

Killer sat atop a hill in a nearly destroyed universe. His legs dangled in the air as he watched the last of the survivors being pulled out by Ink and Core!Frisk. Behind him, Dream had sensed his presence and had joined the madman, knowing full well that he was not responsible for the state of this universe. For once, it was only the game's fault.

The question posed by the madman had caught the little guard off guard. How had he guessed that he had come for this? Wasn't it because Dream was talking to Killer more and more and Killer was getting to know him well.

- Is it because we're destroying the world you want to protect? Killer continued. You think it's better to save us than to destroy us, don't you?

Once again, Dream remained silent, unsure of how to respond. But he finally sighed, slowly coming to sit beside the madman, looking in the same direction as him.

- Of course I don't want to destroy you. Because that's not my role.

- So what is your role, little guardian?

-Bringing joy... Just being there and letting people be happy with my presence.

For the first time, Killer had sensed sadness in the guard's voice, but also deep resignation. He had not done this for himself for years. Had he ever done it for himself...

- And what would you like to do?

This time, Killer had turned his head, looking at the smaller man next to him. The latter lowered his head a little, as if unable to answer. At least, unable to answer without thinking, without searching for words.

- I don't know... I would just like to find my brother... Not to have to fight him anymore because he wants to kill me and not to have to face him because the inhabitants of the universes are waiting for us to come and save them.

Slowly, Dream lifted her head, planting her golden pupils in the madman's eyes.

- I would like more moments like this... More moments where we can talk without having to fight... I'm sure we have a lot in common that we could share.

~

Killer had finally approached the statue, his gaze lost in front of those hands stretched out before him. He knew they weren't meant for him, but he really wanted to take them...

He was right... They had a lot to share. Much more than he had expected. How many times had they found themselves away from the fight, talking about their common weariness to fight. How many times had they ended up talking about something else, slowly opening up to each other. How many times had they lowered their weapons in front of each other, refusing to fight the one who brought them a little novelty in these repetitive confrontations.

Far too many times... And yet, now that he was facing this stone friend, Killer regretted never having told him how happy he was to have spent so much time with him.

~

- Did you know that Nightmare loved to tell stories when we were kids?

- For real? Then again, I once heard him talking to himself at night in his room. Like he was actually telling something. Of course, he flatly denied it when I asked him what he was doing.

~

The sound of their laughter filled his memories, prompting him to come a little closer to the statue, placing a hand on the outstretched one. The coolness of it contrasted with the usual warm hand, but Killer had no desire to let go of it now.

~

- Yesterday I saw a cat near the castle. I would have kept it, but Nightmare doesn't allow animals...

- It's a shame, I'm sure you'd take good care of it. And even if Dust and Horror are your friends, having a furry friend could be good for you.

~

Slowly, Killer curled his knuckles against the stone one, looking at it sadly. Thoughts raced through his mind, reminding him of all the sweet moments that had seemed timeless. Like a little moment just for them, away from everything.

~

- Killer... Your soul... It has taken on the shape of an inverted heart!

- ...I haven't seen it like this in a long time.

~

He placed his second hand on the guard's, passing his empty gaze from one hand to the other. It had been so long since he'd had a moment with him... In addition to his petrification, which must have lasted for the better part of a year, Killer had been distant with him for the past few months. He had felt a real change coming on with Dream and he had been afraid that Nightmare would eventually see them. So he had distanced himself, but in the end, now that he was facing that stone statue, he regretted it.

But what he didn't know was that far away, someone else was regretting this situation too. Not for the same reasons, but for a lot of things that everyone else didn't know. For many things that he kept locked up, refusing even to admit to himself. But this doubt, however small, was present in his heart and for a moment the spell wavered.

Unaware of this, Killer let his hands slip from the stone guardian's, his gaze dropping to the ground. His arms fell limply to his sides, drained of all energy, filled with the weariness and remorse he could no longer change. Slowly he turned, preparing to leave, telling himself that he would come back tomorrow and praying that he would not tire of coming here either.

- You're leaving already... ? a voice whispered behind him.

For a moment, Killer felt the voice come from his mind and he shook his head, needing only to speak, even to a hallucination.

- There's nothing more I can do... I could have prevented this... I should have prevented this. He didn't deserve this...

- I already told you, Killer. The voice continued. You didn't have to get involved in this war, so you're not responsible for what's happening.

The madman took a long breath, really feeling that the voice was real, but he knew it... Nightmare's spell was powerful enough to last for centuries... But even if it was fake, hearing that voice did him a lot of good. Much more than he thought it would, and he couldn't help but say:

- I miss you...

The voice seemed to have disappeared, and Killer felt his soul clench. Not even a hallucination seemed to believe him. What would happen if he told the real Dream? He didn't even want to imagine that.

Yet, as he was about to leave, he felt two arms go around his waist, squeezing him gently as a head rested on his back. The presence startled him and he was ready to attack. Until he looked at the two arms, seeing the two yellow gloves with their jade bracelets. His soul stopped beating for a moment, not daring to believe that this could be possible.

- At least have the courage to say it to my face, Killer.

Against him, the arms tightened a little more, pushing him to turn around, to see for himself that it wasn't a bad dream. And it wasn't... When he turned, his gaze met the golden one, making his soul purr softly.

- I... I missed you... Killer repeated.

Gradually, a smile came over the guard's face. A sincere smile, far from the many, many fake smiles he had taken in his life. And that smile was contagious, causing Killer to return it as he put his arms around the body that was slowly regaining its warmth.

- I missed you Dream... Killer whispered again, wanting to anchor that sentence to show her how serious he was.

Small black tears rolled down his cheeks, but soon he felt Dream's thumbs come to caress his cheekbones, banishing the worry that had been eating away at the madman. Killer closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the moment, feeling the little guardian's body snuggle and warm against him. Then when he opened them again, one of his empty eye sockets had regained a small gleam of a white pupil, gently confronting the golden one that wouldn't let go.

They were so happy to be together again, but no more words came to them. Gestures were enough. There was no need for more, they understood each other perfectly. So much so that when Killer felt the hands on his cheeks gently tugging at his face, he let himself go. Without needing a single word, they brought their faces closer together, granting each other something they had dreamed of on the other side but never dared to speak. But this time they knew they could, and in sweet silence their teeth sealed together, stopping time around them, making their souls beat as they had never felt before.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity, but also too short for them. The closeness of their bodies made them feel how sincere the other was and they couldn't help but blush when they looked at each other again.

But this moment was short-lived. The guardian's awakening had taken its toll and they were soon separated by the sound of portals opening. Behind Dream, Ink and Blue had just arrived, while behind Killer, Nightmare had arrived.

The two sanses stars grabbed their friend, coming to hide him behind them as they began to insult Nightmare, the latter growling that his spell hadn't lasted long enough. But Dream and Killer didn't seem to care about the quarrel, not taking their eyes off each other, smiling at each other.

The guard was then grabbed by the arm by Ink, wanting to take him to rest, and he didn't object, following his friends to the portal. Nightmare had also summoned a portal, shouting at Killer to return, as the war was about to start again.

But before leaving, Dream and Killer took one last look at each other. They were looking forward to the next battle. They were looking forward to the next battle, looking forward to slipping away like before, even though from now on their time together would have a completely different flavor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

English is not my language and if you understand French, I encourage you to read the story in its original language : here 

I hope you liked the story

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part seven

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: hello i apologise in advance. pls dont hurt me!!! i would appreciate your feedback and your theories about where this fic is going! i hope this part isn’t too..... upsetting lmao. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

masterlist

You believed, until now, that you walked the world seeking out dark corners and underbellies other people didn’t want to touch. That’s your job. The current case you're supposed to be working on involves a man suspected of drugging his girlfriend to take nonconsensual nudes of her and sell them to his friends while she slept. You’re well aware the world is a dangerous place.

But things look different now, in a way you never could have imagined before the Lerna. Those men were dead before you could blink, and you know life is expendable and fragile and so easy to take but it’s another thing to see it taken before your eyes. It’s another thing to take it yourself. And you know, now, why Bucky would only show you parts of his life and himself because this whole truth feels like staring directly into the sun - painfully bright, to the point where it’s all you can see and all the good things are reduced to a spotty, hazy blur.

You’re sitting in your office, at your desk where you’re trying to work but you can’t get the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the thunk of a knife in skin out of your head. There, in the centre of your tiny office, was where you sat on Bucky’s lap and kissed him and demanded ‘no secrets.’ Too stubborn to know he was keeping them for a reason, that maybe there are things you don't want to know after all. But you can feel his skin under your fingertips and the brush of his stubble as he kissed you, a memory you can touch, and you can’t help but think it still feels worth it. At the end of it all, if it was a choice of the Lerna happening or never having Bucky at all, you know what you’d chose.

As if he can hear you, your phone buzzes with a text from him. Joey’s at 7?

It’s already 6:30. You’re grabbing your keys and leaving the fear on your desk chair as you text him back. Sounds perfect.

It really is. Joey’s is your favourite bar, and just seeing the grimy neon sign outside makes your heart feel less heavy. This, after everything, remains the same. You still feel giddy jogging down the stairs, ready for the heady bass music to push through your chest and a whiskey apple to numb the wounds. It feels like the beginning, half-nervous half-excited to go find Bucky tucked in a booth at the back, dim purple light chiseling out his cheekbones and catching bright on his sharp smile. Back then it was innocent, if a fuck buddy hook-up could be. Now that you know you would do things for Bucky you’d never do for anyone else, that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to remove his brand from your heart- well. You skip a couple more steps as you head down into Joey’s, only a few minutes late.

You don’t slow down as you enter the bar, weaving through patrons searching for a familiar face. Now that you’re here to the urge to see him, to have him in your arms, is almost unbearable. When you do find Bucky, spinning a glass between his fingers in a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has, he feels your eyes on him immediately. He stands and you crash into him, burying your hands under his leather jacket to feel the warmth of his body against your palms. Bucky hugs you back just as harshly, the force of his embrace lifting your toes off the ground. When he pulls away his runs a hand over your head, down your hair, coming to rest by the side of your neck as if to check your pulse and make sure you’re really there.

“You ok?” he asks, bright blue eyes now dark and hooded as he stares down at you.

You nod, unwilling to let go of your grip on the back of his t-shirt even as he pulls away, and say, “Am now.”

“Need to talk to you, it’s important,” Bucky says. He escapes your grip with ease, because he’s huge and strong and it’s easy to forget that when he softens for you. He sits at the booth and you slide in across him, watching as he downs the rest of the straight whiskey in his glass like its water. That bad feeling is back, like back at Steve’s tattoo shop, but you don’t want it here. You fumble for Bucky’s hand across the table, and he lets you hold it but it doesn’t stop the dread settling heavy in your gut. You squeeze his fingers tighter, just in case.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. “Are we- did the cops find out-“

“No, no,” Bucky says, shaking his head down at the table. His gaze catches on your intwined fingers, the glint of his signet rings in the dim bar light, and says, “The cops aren’t the problem.”

“But there is a problem,” you say, and now Bucky raises his eyes to look at you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s important” Bucky says, again, and the dread rises from your stomach like bile to your throat. “You have to understand this, so you can see that I’m not- that this isn’t just-“

“Bucky.” He lets out a ragged breath as you cut him off mid ramble, scrubs a hand through his hair. You hate the way your voice wobbles when you say, “You’re scaring me.”

You almost make yourself laugh as those words leave your mouth. This scares you? Bucky, frustrated and nervous and clinging to your hand like a lifeline, but when he walked over lifeless bodies he sunk bullets into with a giant rifle on his back - that was just fine.

“You know when we were at Steve’s, and we were talking about Hydra? About Rumlow? Do you remember that?” Bucky asks. He stares at you like he’s imploring you to say it for him, whatever it is he’s struggling to say, but you don’t understand.

You nod slowly and say, “Natasha said Rumlow had it out for you. You said Hydra is your biggest rival.”

“Yes, right,” Bucky says, nodding a bit manically. He’s still gripping your hand tight. “Rumlow hated me, and as far as we can tell - or Nat, I guess, she’s been looking into it - he was acting on his own, to get to me.”

“That’s good, right?” You don’t feel sure, with the way Bucky is acting and looking at you all glassy-eyed. “No big gang war, or whatever.”

“I need you to understand why Rumlow hated me, because it’s not just- it wasn’t just about him, ok?” Bucky says, and now he’s looking around the room like that night in your office. Casing the bar, looking for exits. “He’s dead, but none of this died with him.”

“What is ‘this’?” you ask, and wonder for the first time, do I want to find out?

“The first time I met Rumlow was in the hospital, a couple of days after I got back from Afghanistan,” Bucky says. “I’d been honourably discharged, my arm was all fucked up and fried from a chem bomb and I lost all sensation in it so they sent me home. I remember I was lying in the bed looking out the window, and it was snowing. I hadn’t been anywhere but a desert in so long and I was like, what do I do know? I don’t own a coat anymore. I’m a black ops sniper, that’s not exactly a transferrable skill - can’t even put it on a resume because it’s classified. My arm’s fried and ugly lookin’. I’m fucked.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” you say. Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see it haunting him in the back of them - so much heat and fire and pain left behind, so much cold and unknown and pain lying in front. Your dad has told you a similar story, when he came back from Iraq, and he had the same look in his eyes Bucky does right now.

“I was,” he says, and you squeeze his fingers. He looks towards your hands again and says, “I was, and they knew it.”

“Hydra,” you say, and you know you’re right. Bucky nods anyway.

“Rumlow came into my hospital room and told me, Hydra helps guys like me. They helped him and look - he’s got a job and money and friends and a team again. A purpose. But I said no. I’m black ops, I know shady guys when I seem ‘em and Rumlow reeked of it. Just, Hydra doesn’t like being told no.”

“They target vulnerable, traumatised vets in hospitals?” you ask, disgusted. You can taste the hate that boils up, and that ugly, angry part picturing Bucky lying in a bed so alone and afraid and imagining someone like Rumlow trying to take advantage of him like that - that ugly part says I’m glad he’s dead.

“They’re highly trained and easily moulded,” Bucky says in way of answer, and you shudder at the thought. “But seem Rumlow failed and it was my fault. He failed over and over again every time they sent him to recruit me. So he hated me, and then I started the Commandos with Steve and Sam and Nat to target them. The only way to save the next poor bastard like me from ending up with Hydra is to end them, except there ain't a cop in the city who can touch them.”

“But you can,” you say, and you know it’s stupid but your heart has never been known as terribly smart, so you add, “Bucky, that’s dangerous.”

He smiles, small but it’s there, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he says, “I know, doll. I don’t know if you know this about me, but stupid’s kinda my thing.”

“Very funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at Bucky’s cheeky grin now splitting his face. As quick as it came, though, his smile dies and so does the small spark of hope that maybe this story has a happy ending.

“I’ve made Hydra my enemy and I can’t change that. I don’t want to,” Bucky says, nodding solemnly at his own words and you watch him physically turn cold, stony and distant in the space of a second. “But that means that as long as Hydra is around, they’re going to be coming after me. First Rumlow, but it won’t stop there. They’ll come and keep coming and what if, one time, I don’t get there in time? Or you don’t get to leave your phone on, or even make it to a location before they shoot you in the back of the car?”

“No,” you say. You’re not stupid, you know where this is going and just- no. Bucky is being deliberately harsh, speaking loud and unfiltered to try and make it easier to do what he’s about to do but you won’t let him. That dread turned bile has now turned into straight, acidic fire pumping through veins and it hurts.

Bucky smiles faint and sad, says, “You said it yourself - it’s dangerous no matter what.”

“That's not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head vehemently, wildly, as if you can physically shake Bucky of this stupid idea and the actual pain you’re in just entertaining this conversation. “You know that’s not what I meant, what are- you asked me to stay, Bucky. You asked me, and now you want-“

“I know, I know,” Bucky says,  tugging your hand close to him now but it’s your turn to try and pull away, albeit unsuccessfully. “I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you almost died. Do you understand that? They would have killed you, and the only reason is me.”  

“That’s such bullshit,” you say, trying and failing to pull your hand free of his grip but he isn’t letting go now and the death-grip he has on you, tethering you to him even as he pushes you away, makes your eyes sting with ugly tears.

“It’s not,” Bucky says, so sad, and you just want to kiss that guilt away for him even still, even as your heart is breaking under his fist. “You will always be in danger until the day comes where I can’t protect you, and I won’t do that to you. I can’t, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.”

“You can’t protect me if you’re not around,” you say, so soft you can barely be heard over Joey’s house music but honestly, you might as well be completely alone for how little you care about the bar around you.

“The safest place for you is away from me,” Bucky says, and that makes you laugh. Humourless, fucking painfully, but you laugh and Bucky glares so dark you’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he stared down at Rumlow’s body bleeding out on the ground. Through gritted teeth he says, “You think I would do this if there was any other way?”

“There is another way,” you say, glaring right back. “There’s not being a coward about it, Bucky. You lead a dangerous life, I get it. Believe me, I fucking get it, and I chose to stay. Ok? I wanna be here anyway, so why does my choice not matter to you? Is this some stupid excuse to get rid of me?”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky all but growls, and you should be scared. He’s scary, Bucky is dangerous by his own admission but you refuse to be afraid of him. Even when he’s trying to force you to be, holding your hand too tight and dragging you around the booth so he can pin you to the seat and you both know the only way you can move is if he lets you. As if he thinks he can scare you away from him, if he can’t reason you to go.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” you say into his seething face, inches from yours, teeth bared in a truly terrifying snarl as he pins you to the leather in a show of strength that will leave bruises tomorrow. “I don’t wanna be away from you.”

For half a moment, you really think Bucky is going to hit you. He moves so fast, and you’ve never seen his face look like that - hurt and angry and upset and half-insane all at once. But he just presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes and breathes you in, and for another half a moment you get to think, maybe he’ll change his mind.

“You’re all I want,” Bucky breathes, so soft and quiet you almost don’t hear him if it wasn’t said almost directly into your skin. “But that’s selfish.”

“I don’t care,” you say, like a mantra now, or a prayer. Just hoping he’ll hear you, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You should,” Bucky says, and pulls away from you just as fast as he came in. “I won’t be the reason you end up dead.”

Bucky sits before you like a solid brick wall - unbreakable, immovable, cold and blank. His eyes are shuttered from you and you know there’s no way to get to him now. There’s nothing else you can say. If you aren’t enough for him to push past his fear and love you anyway, nothing you say is going to change his mind. Just because you know it’s true doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though, as you sit there boxed in by this menacing stranger looking at you in a way you never want to be looked at again. Like he already doesn’t know you. Like you’ve already been forgotten.

“This was always gonna happen, wasn’t it?” you ask, more to yourself than to Bucky. You laugh at his silence, the flat set of his mouth and clenched fists on his thighs. Maybe if you never went to that first party at Natasha’s house and remained at arms length, sneaking out his window and never staying the night, then maybe you could’ve had him just a little bit longer. But you didn’t, and now you’re hurt in a way you’ve never been before. Your dad never prepared you to survive a pain like this.

You slide out the other side of the booth, tripping slightly as you climb to unsteady feet. It’s hard to see through unshed tears but you don’t bother looking back at Bucky still sat in the booth. You weave through people just as fast as when you came in, but for the opposite reason now - you can’t leave behind this dim-lit bar painted with the gorey tatters of your heart fast enough.

When you emerge onto the street you know Bucky has followed you, his hulking presence palpable behind you as you stand on the sidewalk and try and calm your rapid heartbeat. You’re surprised its still beating with how much it hurts, especially when Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and cracks your heart neatly in two. He says, softly under New York traffic, “Let me drive you home. Please.”

Instead of asking why, why does he care, why does he want to, if the safest place is away from you then leave me alone, what you say is a mildly whiny, “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’ll put the address in my phone,” Bucky says, calm and low as if to placate you but you’re well past that point now. You’re crying openly on the street like a lunatic as Bucky gently takes your hand and leads you towards his bike, manhandles you onto it, clicks a helmet on over your head. It feels cruel for him to be this soft after so ruthlessly tearing you apart, but you suppose it’s better than being left alone in the street like he never cared at all.

When you pull up to your apartment building Bucky kills the engine and leans in close to you before you have a chance to jump off and run away. You think, surely he’s not about to kiss me right now and you really hate the part of you that hopes he does, but he doesn’t. He just leans in close and whispers into your helmet, “They could be watching your place, after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You close your eyes. Bucky’s right, this will never stop, but that doesn’t mean you want to face it alone. Your whole life has been carved out for you only, but just once you thought maybe you could live it with someone else. That’s not a life for you to have, it seems, so you take a deep breath through snotty tears and nod, say, “I can handle it,” because you know you can. You’ll have to.

“I think-“ Bucky starts but falters, bites his lip blanched white before continuing, “They might leave you alone if you make it clear I’m not in your life anymore.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you say, and all the resolve you just gathered is shattered as instantly as you found it. You’re crying again because fuck, nothing has ever hurt like this has, from the inside where you can’t find it or heal it or stop it so it just sucks the life out of you one painful second at a time.

“You have to, honey,” Bucky says, and you want to punch him for it. The way he talks to you like he loves you, like he cares, but he can’t if he’s making you do this. Break your own heart to save his. “Scream at me, send me away. They won’t need to target you then.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pulling away from him. You don’t want to touch him anymore, can’t stand to be this close so you trip off the bike and stumble down the street. Bucky stares after you, his own eyes teary and face screwed up in genuine pain. It could never compare to the sick feelings in your stomach as you take a deep breath and scream, “Go away, Bucky. Fucking leave me alone and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me? Fuck off, and don’t come back.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from you, threatening to buckle your knees and break you right on the sidewalk. Bucky is looking at you like you’ve just stuck a knife in his chest but he asked you to, he keeps asking and taking and it’s always you that ends up hurt. You leave him on the street, stumble up the stairs to your apartment and sink to the floor as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s dark in your apartment, nothing but streetlights outside casting shadows on furniture he never touched, but it still feels like he’s haunting you just the same.

Bucky’s bike revs to life and he tears away, the sound ripping straight through and down the street. It leaves you hollowed out, a burnt-through husk curled up on your hardwood floor. You know you’ll never hear that sound again.

****

For your entire life it’s always been you against the world. The only person you could ever trust is yourself, the only one who’s going to look out for you is you and you can’t remember a time where you didn’t think this way. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture, but it’s how you’ve always seen the world.

However, you’re only now starting to feel what being truly alone is actually like.

Bucky’s contact lies open on your phone, but you don’t press call. You won’t. He pushed you away for your own ‘safety,’ for his own fear, and you’ll have to learn to live with his choice. Even though you still love him and always will, you can’t have him and you’ll just have to be ok with that. So you leave this contact photo up on your phone, resting on your coffee table beside your open laptop. You’ve got the input feed of the bug you planted in your dad’s kitchen open, chunky headphones on, scrolling through the audio from the past few days since you’d last seen him.

Your heart is broken by the first man you’ve ever let into your life and the only other person who knows you and who you trust, you’re currently spying on. Now, for the first time, you truly have no one left.

Focusing on work has always been an escape for you, and even when your life is in pieces around you and your heart looks no different, work still pulls through. Even if that work is your own father and the inane conversations he has with himself about the baseball teams on TV, or the calls he makes to his vet friends, or the late-night renditions of ABBA songs you remember well from your childhood. A file lies open on your coffee table with your father’s name on it and pages of notes you’ve made from nearly one hundred hours of audio recordings. You hope beyond hope that you’re just paranoid, and that this time when you go digging you don’t find anything at all.

The only thing you’ve noticed so far is your dad makes a lot of phone calls. They’re long, with a lot of names thrown around you don’t recognise as being his friends or anyone from work he’s mentioned to you before. You write them all down to look up later, but you’ve got to go meet a client so you shut everything down and collect your notes in the file. You hide them, just in case, and grab your leather jacket before you leave. You still have rent to pay. The world goes on around you despite everything being turned upside down, almost as if Bucky never happened at all.

You leave via the back of the building, to come out onto the street closest to the subway station. Usually smokers hang out around there so you aren’t surprised to see two men leaning against the wall, but you are surprised when they star following you down the alley. At this point you’re an old hand at being followed, and the petty part of you brain thinks in Bucky’s direction, see? Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, dumbass. You sigh to yourself and plan to give them the run around once you clear the alley, but you don’t get a chance to.

From behind you hear a couple of solid thunks, a groan, a muttered curse from one of the men and then one final thunk before silence. You turn around, half afraid of who you’re going to meet once you do and half annoyed because you think you might know who it is. Sure enough, standing there in her leather jacket and a rusted metal pipe from the dumpster in her grip, is Natasha.

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her face and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“So he’ll break up with me but will still have me followed,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. Natasha shrugs and you mutter, “Figures.”

“I am always the first to say James is an idiot,” Natasha says, twirling the pipe like a baton in her delicate hands. She grins at you and says, “James is an idiot.”

“I’m aware,” you grit out, glaring at the red-head. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t end up as Hydra mince-meat,” Natasha says, “What does it look like?”

“Doing whatever Bucky says even when it’s stupid,” you say. Natasha doesn’t like that, her bright grin dropping into a scowl as she steps up to you. Small, but with a clearly lethal weapon in her hands if the unconscious bodies behind her are anything to go by, she jabs the tip of the pipe into your chest and forces you a step backwards.

“James always has good intentions, even if his logic is sometimes flawed.” She drops the pipe, letting it clang to the floor between you as if to punctuate her saying, “Besides, James didn't tell me to do anything. I volunteered.”

“Why?” you ask, sneering slightly. “I think we both know you don’t trust me, or like me, and you make it very hard to like you.”

Natasha smiles at that, and you hate the face she makes every time you say something she ‘approves’ of - condescending, like she doesn’t expect you to have brain cells and is surprised every time you do. She says, very solemn despite the smile in her eyes, “I owe you.”

That makes you pause. Instantly, like you’re right back in that bar. You can see her groaning body struggling to stand after being thrown into a wall. Rumlow pointing a gun at her back, the blood-thirst emanating off him in waves. Your own hand, as if detached from your body, flinging the knife across the room into his neck before he can put a bullet in Natasha’s.

You swallow thickly, shake your head and say, “No you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. She steps forward with her hand out, beckoning her fingers like she wants you to hand her something. You just stare at her empty palm for a few seconds before she clicks her tongue and says, “Phone.”

You hand it over without thinking, which was definitely stupid. But Natasha just types away quickly before giving it back and you see you have a new contact with her name attached entered into your phone.

“If you ever need anything,” she says, and taps your phone screen with her nail, “call me.”

It was only minutes ago you were sitting on your couch scrolling through audio from your tapped father’s kitchen thinking you’ve never been more alone in your life. Yet here you are, looking at a helping hand outstretched from the last person you expected it to come from. Your fingers shake slightly as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, and Natasha smiles at you like she understands.

“Thank you,” you say, and you hope she knows you genuinely do mean it.

Natasha nods, then says, “Get out of here, alright? I have to clean this up.”

You suppose that’s Natasha speak for ‘your welcome,’ so you leave her to it. The whole client meeting you can’t focus properly, too busy trying to decide if you feel safer or more afraid at having one of the scariest women you know watching your apartment. By the end of the day, your conclusion is that if Natasha is going to be in your life, its probably best she’s on your side rather than against it.

When you get home that afternoon there is no sign of the two guys Natasha knocked out, nor is she anywhere to be seen. You can’t help but feel watched, though, as you enter your building and climb the stairs. She’s a busy woman and you know she can’t be watching you all the time but you still feel her green eyes on the back of your neck - its not an altogether uncomfortable sensation. That’s something to unpack later, you think, as you collapse on the couch.

You try to resist, but as soon as you sit down and close your eyes the urge to forget about the case you’ve just taken on and look into your own hunches grows too strong. You get up again and fish out your dad’s file again from your hiding place, bringing it back to the couch to flip open. The list of names you’ve been compiling is at the top, scribbled in messy handwriting as you listened to your dad’s one-sided conversations. You tallied up how many times the same name had been mentioned and in what context, however it had been hard to decipher what your dad was talking about with only half the story.

You decide to go looking into the most mentioned name - more of a title, really. Somebody your dad calls Chief shows up in almost every single conversation he has over the phone, and when you were going through the audio it dredged up some strange, suppressed childhood memory. You used to hear him talking to guys downstairs when you were doing your homework, and you always thought he called them ‘chief’ as a nickname or weird, macho term of endearment like how kids in your class would call each other ‘bro’.

Maybe, he was only talking to one guy. You were going to find out.

Starting at your dad’s job, you scroll through their website and LinkedIn profiles to find any link to the name ‘Chief.’ He works as a security guard for a chain of clubs in the city so you are doubtful, and sure enough nothing really comes up to peak your interest. Your dad really only has one other major outlet to look into and that’s the VA, so you have to swallow past the dirty feeling of investigating suffering vets and start scrolling through the website for the Brooklyn VA group attached to the medical centre.

It’s all wholesome stuff and nothing of interest to your snooping at all until you get to a photo gallery from four years ago. It’s dedicated to commemorating the Brooklyn VA and New York Police Department workshop day promoting mental health for vets and servicemen. There are a bunch of photos of group activities and the lunch put on by the VA, and you spot your dad in a couple of them. You’re about to click off when you find one where your dad is posed with another vet and a very official, very dressed up cop. Nothing you haven’t seen at least forty of before in this gallery, but it’s the caption which makes you pause.

It reads, Some of the Brooklyn VA’s finest with NY Chief of Police. It has to be a coincidence, the man’s job title and nothing more. He’s tall, broad, with sandy blonde hair turning grey under his police hat. There are more medals than you can count pinned to his uniform and even in this grainy photo you can tell he would squash your dad like an ant if he gave the Chief of Police a reason to. You’ve never paid attention to this before, steering clear of cops whenever you can, but you find yourself googling him as soon as you can pull yourself away from his mile-long stare.

As soon as the NYPD profile on the Chief of Police loads, your blood turns to ice. You want to say you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you’re paranoid, but name one time your paranoia had led you wrong? Two strange coincidences don’t happen back to back, no matter how disconnected they may appear. Two worlds you never thought you would know, let alone be watching them collide, stare up at you from your computer screen. You can hear Steve’s voice like he’s sitting right next to you, saying “It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” and right under a professional portrait of the Chief of Police is his name burning into the back of your eyelids - Alexander Pierce.

You shove your laptop onto the coffee table and stand, pacing back and forth in front of your couch. Scraping a hand through your hair and pulling half of it out of your head in the process, you try to reason your way out of connecting these dots. They’re barely dots, their echoes of dots - so your dad took a photo with the Chief of Police four years ago and he refers to someone he knows as ‘Chief’ as a nickname and Steve mentioned Pierce was someone in Hydra and the Chief of Police happened to be named Alexander Pierce. So what, right?

“Ok, ok, ok, ok,” you say to yourself, rushed and manic. You’ll just ask your dad. He’s your dad, he was never supposed to hide anything from you so why would he start now? If you just ask he might-

You don’t get to finish your thought. Three loud knocks ring through your empty apartment, your doorbell chiming impatiently straight afterwards. You stare at the door with your heart in your throat, long enough for them to ring the doorbell again and a loud, male voice to call out your full name. Someone you don’t recognise, yet they know where you live. You approach the door on silent feet and look through the peephole, reaching for the baseball bat you keep behind a pot plant as you do.

Standing outside are two men in suits, one of whom is looming at the peephole and making stupid faces while his college rolls his eyes and attempts to hold him back. Through the door, you ask, “Who is it? What department are you with?”

“I’m Special Detective James Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Detective Tony Stark,” the unimpressed cop says, elbowing his colleague out of the way who is still trying to look through the wrong side of the peephole. Holding up a badge and gesturing for his partner to do the same, Detective Rhodes says, “We’re with the FBI, ma’am.”

“Shit,” you say, before realising you said that out loud. Your hand feels numb where you grip your baseball bat tightly, and you decide in that moment you have to be dreaming. No way has the events of the past fifteen minutes taken place.

The guy who must be Detective Stark laughs and says, “Shit is right. Let us in, ma’am, we need to ask you some questions.”

You look back at the coffee table laden with copious notes on your father and your open laptop, Chief of Police Alexander Pierce’s face staring back at you. An omen, you think, but it would be even more suspicious if you asked them to wait to clean everything up. Your heart-stopping, life-changing, maybe-discovery will have to wait.

You slide off the chain and unlock your deadbolt, opening the door for the two FBI agents. They walk in without another word, and it really hits you then. It doesn’t matter what Bucky does now, if he leaves you and never comes back or if he never left at all - you’re in this, now. And now you’ll pay the price.

[fluffy-lee-boa]

Arkham’s Sweetheart and the Grumpy Riddle Bug

a batman rogue ticklefic uwu

A/N: hey everyone!!! this took me a bit, but it kinda got away from me and turned into a little story of its own haha. i wrote this with the animated universe in mind, but honestly i think it’ll work with a few.

anyways, this was a request! lee!edward getting ganged up on by ler!harley and ler!pamela. hope you like it!!!

It was rare that anyone in Arkham would be such a ray of sunshine, being the drab and dank place that it is, but Harley Quinn was definitely the exception. Despite her treatment at the hands of guards, her clown of an ex, and the bat alike, she was always surprisingly upbeat as she passed through the halls of the facility, hands cuffed behind her back.

Her cheery attitude didn’t exactly mesh with her fellow rogues, though none of them were immune to her disarming charms. This meant that the room full of murderers and scoundrels all took pause when she entered, giving her soft smiles or begrudging greetings as she went ahead to settle into the rec room.

Well, all but one person.

Edward Nashton, or Nygma, as he had legally changed it to, was not exactly chipper on this stormy day- not that he was ever “chipper.” It’s just that today he seemed more put off than usual, based on the way he was stewing in the corner. There was an abandoned chessboard on the table beside him, likely from Jervis or Jonathan having grown frustrated with his attitude mid-game. It wasn’t uncommon, though it did present a challenge to the doctor as she assessed the situation.

Edward was one of her closest friends. It would be a crime not to help him out! He obviously needed someone there to cheer him up, for whatever reason, and who better than the sweetheart of Arkham herself?

(No, not Ivy. She was currently busy by the window, gardening. Though Harley was sure she could get her to help out if necessary.)

“Hey Eddie~!” She cooed as she skipped over and took the seat across from him, giving that same magical smile.

Edward gave her a half-hearted, “Quinn.” not even looking up from the floor.

Hmph. This was worse than she thought!

“What’s got ya so wound up today, hon?” she asked, a bit of her professionalism seeping through from her days as a staff member in this same institution.

He raised an eyebrow at her, before staring back at the ground with a rather childish, “You just wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” she deadpanned, leading to her fellow inmate to purse his lips.

Edward knew that Harley was not somebody to underestimate. While Joker had tossed her aside and treated her like a jockey, he could tell she was much more intelligent than she let on. She was also stubborn- Which meant there wasn’t much of a chance of him getting out of this without telling her the truth.

He sighed, finally looking directly at her as he laid his chin in his hands, “It’s Batman. I’m sure you’re aware I was only just sent back here yesterday... I have reason to believe he’s found someone else to antagonize. Why won’t he realize that I’m the only one in this city who’s worthy of being his equal...?”

Harley blinked, a part of her tempted to admit that pretty much everyone but him knew he was a second tier villain at best. Though she knew how fragile the other’s ego was, and what he really needed right now was moral support. Like a break up! He’d been there for her when she went through her messy separation, albeit with his usual awkward stoniness, so it was only right that she return the favor.

“Aw, come on Ed. He’s not worth your time.” she waved her hand dismissively, “If anything, he should be locked up in here with us! He’s no better than... Jonathan! Just using fear to escape a lonely life and exert some sort of sick power over others.”

From the couch across the room, Crane looked up from his book, unimpressed. Clearly, he wanted no part of this.

Harley gave an awkward laugh and wave to her old professor, before turning back to Edward, “-Either way, I think you could do better.”

Edward raised an eyebrow, “...Really?”

She nodded, swinging her legs excitedly, “Yeah! Once we bust outta here, we should get you on some dating apps. Maybe go to a few Comic Cons. There’s gotta be someone out there who’s just as nerdy as you-!” she giggled as she poked him in the shoulder teasingly, watching the other puff up defensively.

“I don’t need a partner! I need a rival to sharpen my wits. I just- I want him to see that we’re the same. Is that too much to ask?” Edward snapped, pouting once more.

Harley’s smile faded for a moment, and she seemed to think for a moment, “....Get up.”

“What?” Edward seemed baffled at the sudden order, especially coming from her.

“Stand up! I wanna try somethin’!” She beamed, motioning for the other to get out of his chair. At this point, most of the other inmates were busy in their own little worlds, though a few took notice when Nygma stood. Especially since Harley looked so unnervingly excited.

Quinn walked over with a rather threatening look in her eye, hidden by her giddy smile, “Ok, now put your hands up.”

He hesitated, leading to a gentle, “Come on~! I’m not gonna hurt ya!”

Edward nervously raised his arms above his head, his baggy uniform falling over his slender form due to weeks of avoiding meals. He’d probably been up for days, based on his demeanor. He really put his whole heart and soul into this rivalry, Harley thought.

These small details of the other’s appearance only spurred on the psychiatrist as she stalked around him like a predator, deciding she knew exactly what she had to do. Then, when she was sure he wouldn’t expect it, Harley clamped down under his arms, wiggling her fingers against his skin through the loose fabric. In her opinion, laughter was the best medicine, and if Eddie was going to hold back like that, she certainly wasn’t.

If no one had been paying attention to them before, Edward sharp yelp would have tipped everybody off. He immediately brought his arms back down with a strangled giggle, doing his best to shoot Harley a look as she continued with her hands wedged under his arms.

She merely laughed along in response, cooing, “Awh Eddie, you’re so cute when you’re laughing like this. Kitchy koo~!”

“Harleen!” he hissed through gritted teeth, his cheeks already a bright red color as he tried to squirm free of her grasp.

After a moment he managed to pull away and get those blasted fingers out from his hollows- only for his arm to once again by suspended above him by some unidentifiable force. He looked up in horrified confusion, only to find thick vines wrapped around each wrist, holding him up like he was the catch of the day at Gotham Harbor..

“ISLEY!”

The purring voice of the botanist did nothing to soothe his flustered anger as she appeared beside her current partner in crime, “Yes, Edward...?”

Eddie bit down on his cheek to keep himself from bursting into laughter from the light yet overwhelming sensations, leading to his fiery responses being entirely silenced. Harley had barely even let up while the fiendish red-head had done her work, her fingers now trailing up his biceps and back down just to make him jump.

“Look Eddie, we just wanna help ya! Now, be a good little gigglebug and laugh.” Harley gave her victim an evil smirk, before moving down to dig into his prominent ribs.

Edward immediately acted like all the air had been sucked from his lungs, before he finally fell into real, authentic laughter. It was honestly a marvel that no guard had come to check on the group yet, considering how noisy they’d become both from Edward’s current predicament, and the snickers of onlookers.

His laugh was more sweet and melodic than most people would think, and it was almost bouncy as he squirmed around. It sounded much more innocent than the man who was behind it.

“C’mon Eddie, that’s it,” Pamela hummed as she stepped around him, obviously enjoying watching the other get so flustered. His cheeks heated up as she fluttered her leaves and flower petals across his neck from the greenery continuing to hold him up, affectively turning his mind to mush.

“Youhou’re both dEAHAHAEEEE-!” Edward’s final attempt at a threat fell off into a squeal when Harley suddenly moved down to his hip bones with her own sporadic movements, making him buck as he tried to pull his arms free.

“Jackpot!” Harley sang, focusing all her attention on the dips and protruding bone. She was pure evil alright.

Edward’s squealing soon tapered off into begging and hiccuping giggles as he slowly lost his energy, all of which were practically indecipherable anyways, “Harleen! Pleaseheheheease-! Noho-!”

Harley hesitated, making an over-exaggerated face as if contemplating something grand, “Mmm... I don’t think you’re all cheered up yet...”

“I aham Ihihihiamm-!!!” He wheezed, his laughter starting anew as Quinn moved up a little to trace at his sides.

Harley and Ivy shared a look, and Harley eventually shrugged, slowing her movements to a stop. He’d had enough for the day.

Edward immediately sunk to the floor as Ivy’s vines guided him in a manner that would keep him from injuring himself, and soon the green weeds bloomed flowers to serve as a sort of mattress for the man to rest on. He continued giggling airily from the leftover ghost tickles and slight movements of the flora, the two watching. him curiously. Eventually he looked up at the both of them with a more genuine, honestly pretty cheesy smile.

There’s the Edward they knew and loved!

Harley was the first to react, per usual. She squealed excitedly and went to tackle him in a hug, which he begrudgingly returned as Ivy sat down cross legged beside them on their living carpet. The rest of the rogues had gone back to their own business, leaving the three to their own devices now that Edward had been so fiercely pulled out of his funk.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Edward spoke up with a surpassingly shy, “Er... thank you. Both. I needed that. Even if it was insufferable, it was... nice.”

Harley simply hummed happily and hugged him tighter, while Ivy was left to wave him off. He made Harley happy, so he was clearly worth their time.

Harley remained cuddled up between the two indefinitely after it was all said and done, rambling on about nothing in particular and helping get Ed’s mind off of the Bat for once in his life. And after recreational hours were done? She would get Edward to a meal and help him get back to his feet before their next breakout and/or parole hearing. And even if she acted aloof, Ivy would be with them every step of the way.

[haileyyanneupton]

under the stars (just you and i)   🌌

pairings:

hailey upton x jay halstead 

prompted by tumblr post by @snowwhite013​ and post by @upstellaride (on twitter)

| masterlist |

Chicago was chaotic by nature. The Intelligence unit had been completely and utterly slammed for months now. With increased gang activity not only in the 21st District but all over the city, everybody was being stretched to their absolute limits in every way possible. Jay and Hailey — whose romance had been placed on the backburner when the surge began — were no exception to this; they were both equally as overworked and exhausted as one other. Their apparent inability to pass up a case was costing them not just their precious beauty sleep, but quality time to spend together as a couple, leaving them both frustrated every time the phone rang. 

“You and me, Bartoli’s.” Hailey glanced up from the paperwork in her hand at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. He was sitting across from her on his side of the desk that had slowly but surely become their communal desk over the years, his feet up on the edge of the surface as he stared at the blonde haired woman, awaiting a response. “When?”  The question was simple, but it was one that hung in the air for longer than either of them would have liked. It was a simple question that in theory required a simple answer, but with the unpredictability of work as of late, both Jay and Hailey were unwilling to offer up a time or day without proper thought being put into it. “What about after shift tonight?” Jay offered, hesitation evident in his voice as Hailey’s eyes flickered to the rest of the unit — it was relatively empty. At least, the emptiest it had been in a while. “It’s been kind of mellow today, right? I mean, the fact that we have time to be here doing paperwork is usually a good sign.” “Tonight. After shift. . .” Hailey considered it for a moment, humming lightly to herself in thought. “Sure. Tonight after shift sounds good.” Jay couldn’t help but grin as he hid his face in his coffee — caffeine was the only thing keeping him going at this point — he had been dying for a night out with his girl. It had been far too long since the two of them had been able to just talk, and his Hailey withdrawal symptoms were coming in fast and hard with no place to go. Sure, they worked together every day — but with how spread out the Intelligence unit had been, they were lucky if they even got to say hello to each other. All of these reasons put together were contributing factors to his particularly pissy mood when Voight made his way back upstairs and informed everybody that they wouldn’t be going home until they could pull up a lead on the drug-bust-turned-triple-homicide they were working out in Jefferson Park. “Guess this means we’re cancelling. Again.” Hailey sighed deeply as she stood beside Jay, the pair of them watching as Kim placed the victims photos up on the board. “This is what — the fourth time now?”

“It’s not my fault, Hailey,” Jay mumbled under his breath. “Don’t blame me. Blame the guy who shot three people for his fix.” Hailey’s eyes snapped over to him, the blue of her irises darkening as she made it very obvious she wasn’t about to put up with his bullshit for another long night shift when they were both exhausted. “I know it’s not your fault Jay. Did you hear me say it was? Because I sure don’t remember those words coming out of my mouth.” Jay mumbled again, although this time it was a practically silent sorry that Hailey’s Vulcan hearing only just managed to pick up on. She could feel his frustration and despite knowing it wasn’t intentionally being directed at her, she also wasn’t about to let her get pushed around to make him feel better, even if he was her boyfriend.  That’s how the next week or so went. Both Jay and Hailey were snapping at each other left and right, and although they both were mature enough not to hold a grudge against the other for longer than a few minutes, neither of them were exactly enjoying themselves. Their triple-homicide came and went, and before they knew it they had been thrown into an arson case — they couldn’t catch a break, no matter how hard they tried.  Jay had walked into the locker room one evening after Hailey had disappeared for a while, his search for the woman coming to an end quickly as he spied her sitting on the bench with her head in her hands. Just when he thought he’d give her some time alone, (he figured she was probably trying to gather her thoughts or something) the sound of almost silent cries coming from the blonde caused his heart to ache painfully. At first, he wasn’t sure — but when the sight of her back rising and falling sharply with each cry, Jay practically bolted over to her in panic. “Hails." Jay sat down on the bench beside his girlfriend, his voice soft as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hails, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?" Hailey shrugged his hand off of her shoulder — not in a cold way, just in a 'I don't want you to see me like this' kind of way. Nonetheless, Jay persisted as he wrapped his arm around the woman's torso, pulling her closer to him until her head was resting in the crook of his neck. Hailey tried to wipe away her tears roughly, the woman clearly worked up as Jay ran his fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to offer up some comfort. "Hailey?" "I'm fine, Jay." Hailey's response was much too quick for Jay's liking. Even if she hadn't been crying, her response alone would have provoked concern from the man. He only frowned down at his girlfriend sadly, his heart aching; Hailey wasn't one to show her emotions to anybody. Any time Jay saw Hailey this way, he felt his entire body tearing apart in some inexplicable way — he had the overwhelming urge to find a way to fix it. Because seeing Hailey upset was the absolute worst thing he could ever see. It was so heartbreaking and tore him apart so severely that it could (and would) keep him at night. "You're not fine," Jay's voice was gentle and unthreatening, but he still balanced on the line of pushing as she took a deep breath against him. "You don't have to be fine. But I think it'd help if you talked to me — you're the one who taught me that, remember?" Hailey stayed silent, not daring to utter a sound. Instead, she fixed her gaze upon one of the lockers standing in front of her, studying it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world before she found her breath getting caught up in her throat all over again. Before she knew it, tears were pouring down her cheeks all over again, half of them sad and half of them angry, partly because she had no idea what the hell she was crying for. "Please tell me what's going on," Jay practically begged his girlfriend this time as he rubbed circles on her back, his brows shaped in a concerned V. "Please tell me so that I can — I don't know." "I'm just so tired," Hailey breathed, her sentence being interrupted by a hiccup as she ran her palms down her cheeks. "I haven't slept a full night in days, Jay — neither have you. I'm tired of fighting you and arguing every time we're in the same room together for no other reason other than the fact that we're both exhausted, I'm tired of the lumpy couch and sleeping without you. I miss you, Jay. I miss you so goddamn much it's physically painful right now and I genuinely just don't know how to deal." Jay was sure he could feel his heart breaking into two right there and then, his grip tightening upon Hailey as he held her close. Hailey only sunk into his hold in response to the gesture before sniffling softly, barely moving as the pair froze in time for a short while. It was Jay who broke the silence a few minutes later, his hand still circling her back as his words were muffled slightly by her head. "I'll tell Voight we're both coming down with something." "Jay —" "I'll get Platt to cover for us." "But —" "No buts. We're working something out right here, right now so that you don't have to spend another minute here in pain because if you're in pain. . . I'm ready to kill, maim or otherwise seriously injure whoever's responsible." Hailey let out a small snort of amusement despite her mood. After all — how could she not? It was Jay. Cracking-jokes-at-the-most-inappropriate-of-times Jay. Her Jay.  And despite the fact that she was still weeping silently in frustration and all of the other emotions that had decided to make themselves at home without her go ahead, her Jay was always able to put a smile on her face. "Let's just finish this shift." Hailey exhaled deeply, using a few fingers to wipe away her tears once more. "I'll be okay, Jay." Jay didn't seem all too convinced. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure," Hailey nodded as she wrapped an arm around her boyfriend and rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating beneath his skin; the sound was oddly calming. "I just had to have a little cry." Although Jay was still hesitant to let Hailey go (mostly because he loved having her close and she was so, so warm) he knew that his girlfriend was one of the most headstrong women to ever walk the earth; once she said they were finishing the shift, they were finishing the shift. As soon as six o'clock came around, Jay and Hailey were out of the 21st district and packing into Jay's truck, switching their phones off so that they could have plausible deniability if they were called back in for a case. Yes, the detectives were dedicated to their job and by extension, the city of Chicago, but tonight was a night for them. A night where they could breathe a little bit. God knows they needed it. Hailey had no idea where they were going once Jay passed the turnoff for not just his house but her's too, but quite frankly, she didn't care. She didn't even question it when she saw the "Thank you for visiting Chicago" sign, she and Jay sitting in silence until they arrived in an empty field. It was dark by then, the sky being lit up by nothing than the moon and stars above them. "Come with me." Jay wore a lopsided smile on his features as he spoke, heading around to Hailey's side of the truck as he opened the door up for her and helped the woman out with an extended hand that she gratefully took. Hailey couldn't help the suspicious (and slightly concerned) expression she wore on her features, just as Jay couldn't help laughing at the very same expression.  His lopsided smile turned into a grin as he pulled Hailey along, almost giddy as he pulled down the back part of his truck so that it laid flat. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed it before, but now that her attention had been bought to the back tray, she could see the pile of blankets of pillows that had been packed in there along with a 6 pack of beers calling her name from the back corner. Hailey's look of concern brightened into one of love and affection almost immediately, her eyes softening as she snapped her head up to meet Jay's. "You did this?" "I did." Jay was clearly very happy with himself. "You like it?" "It's absolutely sickening." Hailey's sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Jay who grinned smugly as he watched his girlfriend clamber up into the back of his truck. Its height momentarily posed a challenge for the woman, but it was just another challenge that she overcame as she vaulted herself inside and practically pulled him in after her.  With the mountain of blankets pulled over each of them, Hailey and Jay sat side by side as Jay held two beers in his hand, handing one off to the blonde who took a sip as soon as it was made available. Neither of them had the words to verbalise it, but they both knew this was what they needed. They both knew this was perfect. As the night grew older, Hailey found herself laying with her head on Jay's chest and a hand comfortably resting on his thigh; his hands were running through her blonde locks absentmindedly — he had always found Hailey's hair remarkably soft. The pair of them were still sipping on their beers, but the conversation had shifted to a much calmer and heartfelt topic. "I love you," Hailey had declared suddenly, though, it wasn't the first time she had uttered the three words to her boyfriend and partner. "I love you and your grand gestures, and your smile, and your laugh." "I love you. I love you and your eyes, and the way you scrunch up your nose when you find something funny, the way you're impossibly stubborn but yet incredibly reasonable." "I love you and how you make me feel okay, and how you can understand what I'm trying to say without me ever having to say it, and how you hold me at night and when I'm upset. I love you and how you showed me a million shades of colour that I had never experienced before." Jay's lips curled up into a warm smile, though his eyes showed it more. It was hard to distinguish whether or not it was the way the corners of his eyes creased or if it was the sparkle among the green that did it, but she didn't mind the not knowing. When she was with Jay, she didn't need to know anything except that she loved him and that he loved her — that was enough. It had always been enough. An exhale escaped Hailey's lips as she gazed up at the sky above them, the twinkling orbs that were even brighter away from city lights filling her vision as she studied them closely. They twinkled and shimmered beautifully — almost entrancing — Hailey could barely peel her eyes or focus away from them for more than half a second. "They're amazing, aren't they?" Hailey wasn't expecting a response, but she wasn't shocked either when she received one. "The stars?" "Yeah," she nodded her head against Jay's chest lightly. "They remind me of you, in a way." Jay chuckled with a puzzled look on his face. "They remind you of me? How?" "They're pretty. They're perfect. . They're also everywhere, just like your freckles are. Not to mention that half of them are on the brink of exploding, just like you." He poked her in the side playfully as Hailey laughed heartily in response. "It was so sweet, and then you decided to make fun of me." "Making fun of you is my only hobby, Halstead. How else am I meant to fill my time?" "I don't know! There's a whole world out there — you could take up boxing, or knitting!" "You see me sitting still for long enough to knit?" "No, that was a stupid suggestion. I should have known." Jay's chest rose and fell beneath Hailey's head as he laughed. "Since you're you, I guess I'll let you get away with it. You're both far too dangerous and far too attractive to stay mad at." Hailey only smirked as she turned her head, finally tearing her eyes away from the night sky and gazing into Jay's impossibly green eyes. "Oh yeah? Far too attractive?" "Well—" Jay shifted slightly as his hand brushed up against Hailey's bare arm beneath the blankets. "— maybe — maybe you'll have to remind me just how attractive." "Oh, I can do that." 

🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌

aaaa okay i hope this was good! i don’t know if i did it justice lmao

[eunoiaflow3r]

Not Who I Am Anymore - Oscar Diaz

A/N: we’re not going to talk about the ending lol. uhm will definitely have a few mistakes.

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, mentions of death (not to reader, or oscar). fem!reader.

Summary: Y/N’s past is something that dictates a couple of her decisions. This includes smoking and drinking. Everyone think’s she’s weird for it. She has her reasons.

Word Count: 5.4k

~

You thought you had moved on. You thought that with the help, and the mentoring,  the flashbacks, the thoughts, and the urges would go away. But they didn’t. Here you were at a Santos party, smoke in the air, alcohol littered across the long tables and the music wafting through the air ten times louder than it probably should have been. On the sidewalk, you took this time to really look at your surroundings and really scope out the area.

Spooky was on the porch, a glass bottle of beer sitting swiftly in his hands. Instead of his usual beader, a black shirt was fitted loosely, paired with black shorts and sneakers..and, of course, the ultimate gold chain that sat proudly around his neck. He was talking to Sad Eyes - you think his name was, when he noticed you, kind of to yourself, watching him. He smirked at you and walked over to where you were.

“Aye wassup? Can’t believe you actually came.” He gives you a kind of half-hug, before stepping away and really taking you in. You weren’t dressed like the rest of the girls who wore crop tops, and short shirts and skirts with heels. No, you at a Santos party, chose to wear jeans and a jacket. It looked a lot like something That girl Monse would wear, but he wasn’t gonna tell you that. 

“Came to watch the underage kids here, and make sure they stay out of trouble.” 

That was only half the truth. Of course, you came for the kids, especially Ruby and Jamal - you knew they could get into some serious trouble if they were along for long enough...but when Spooky first told you about the party, you knew you’d be there. No, you tried to convince yourself not to go. Alcohol and weed wasn’t a good idea, and you knew that. Spooky on the other hand, sure could be convincing, and maybe you were unknowingly making a deal with the devil by accepting his invitation, but at the time you didn’t care. Now you do.

“That really all you came for? I wasn’t part of that decision?”

The bottle in his hands was looking absolutely irresistible. The smoke in the air that you inhaled made your heart hurt because you knew if you did anything tonight, you’d be in trouble. That’s why you snuck your hand into your pocket and clutched your 2-year pin in your hands. Never again would you go back to the place you were in two years ago. Never again you promised yourself.

Oscar seemed to notice your eyes on his bottle though and unfortunately asked if you wanted some. You painfully refused and asked him if he could just get you a bottle of water instead. 

“Of course. Be right back.”

You remember when you first met “Spooky.” It was unconventional at the least. You were visiting Mario and his family during the summer. His mother absolutely adored you, and let you stay for however long you needed. You went back home, but right before school started, you decided to move to Freeridge more permanently. She let you stay until you could find your own place. Ruby, like the little devil he is, stole your clothes while you were in the shower.

You chased him around in a towel for them, until eventually you were locked outside, and pounding on the door pleading for him to let you in. His friends did nothing to help you, and you wouldn’t forgive them for weeks after that. Anyway, this just so happened to be the time where there was that lockdown. Minutes before it happened, Spooky approached the house, and he at the very least was intrigued. It’s not every day you see a beautiful kinda naked girl knocking on a door. When he approached you, you had absolutely no idea what to do.

A gang leader, you knew by the infamous name, “Spooky,” was smirking at you as you were half-naked, and he didn’t even know your name. 

“I - I uhm.” You paused, trying to gain some kind of composure. “ ‘S not my fault they locked me out.”

He smiled, you eyed his teardrop tattoo, and he looked you up and down from head to toe and back up again as if you hadn’t even been wearing the towel at all. “A gift from the Heavens if you ask me.”

You shyly looked away, and thankfully, if not weirdly, you were cut off by sirens. Angered, Spooky started banging on the door demanding for them to let the two of you in. As soon as they noticed the sirens and the knocks that didn’t sound like yours anymore, Ruby wearily let you and the gang leader in. 

To say the kids, especially Jamal was scared shitless was an understatement. You couldn’t bear seeing Spooky again, especially being barely clothed so you stayed locked in the room you shared with Olivia, embarrassingly hiding from Spooky and his wandering eyes.

The second time you ran into him, you were fully clothed thankfully. You found your own place, not too far from Ruby’s and Monse’s houses. What you didn’t know, was that his house was right around the corner as well, and on your way to your new job - Dwayne’s Joint. You needed a job, and how could Jamal’s father let anyone go when they were in need? So here you were, a waitress now, about to take an order for Cesar and his brother.

His eyebrow when he saw you and so did that signature smirk. “Aye, Y/N you walk here?”

“Yeah actually - how did you know my name?” you ask bewildered.

Cesar sunk down his seat not making eye contact with you. “I told him.” he whispered.

“Oh, and did you tell him that I worked here as well?”

Cesar’s no response was all the response you needed. Instead of reacting in the irritated way you wanted, you began actually doing your job. It’s too early to lose it - you literally couldn’t afford it. “What can I get you guys?”

“When your shift end?” Spooky asked not answering your question.

“Cesar, you want some fries?” You ask avoiding Spooky’s question. He said nothing, under Spooky’s intimidating eyes. You walked away anyway and got fries for Cesar and Spooky to share just so you didn’t have to spend any extra time under Spooky’s gaze. When the fries were done, you brought them to their table, and Cesar thanked you for it, but all Spooky did was look you up and down, wink and snatch a few fries from the basket.

What you didn’t realize was it was 5 minutes passed your shift being over so you grabbed your stuff, and walked out the door, ready to walk your tired self home.

“Uh uh,” Spooky caught your arm, “Let me give you a ride.”

“Oh, so now you know where I live too?” You asked clearly irritated. He had seen you almost naked, knew your name, where you lived, and you didn’t even know his real name.

“It’s a small block,” he shrugged, “Besides, you're tired. What type of man would I be to let you walk home alone this late?’

At this point, you didn’t have the energy to argue with this man any longer, so you just let the man take you home.

Ever since then, you’d see him around, and he wouldn’t waste any time flirting with you. You’d humor him, you’ll admit it, but you had no idea what compelled you to say yes to a drug and alcohol filled party. 

Maybe it was his smile or his muscles, maybe it was his incredibly sexy and convincing voice, or maybe it was that time he kissed you before you he dropped you off at your house.

He was telling you how his Dad came back, and he was ranting, and you knew it had been an incredible stressor for him. When it used to awkward around him, because of the towel incident, you were now incredibly comfortable around him, and it was almost like it never happened - although with flirty remarks he reminded you almost every day. 

You were saying goodnight when he kissed you. You were surprised, to say the least, but you kissed him back with just as much passion as you were receiving from his end. He couldn’t take it when he couldn’t feel any of you, so he pulled you into his seat, right onto his seat so that you were straddling him. You ended up hitting the horn on accident, and you both broke out in laughter before he kissed you again. His hands roamed from your hair to your shoulders, to your side and back, and finally to your ass where he wasn’t afraid to give a little attention to.

You don’t know how long you were in that car, but you know that after that night, a blush seemed to be permanently tinted on your cheeks when you’re around him, your lips a little swollen, and hickies would almost always be littered across your skin.

Since you first met him, you knew he was probably a bad idea. He’s not a bad person, but a bad idea. How could you be around the literal epitome of the life you used to live. Did you want to live around that life again? Certainly not. But Spooky made up for it. He never wanted you around during gang-related things and perhaps that distracted you from how bad living this life really was. 

Now that you were here though, all you could think about was that pin in your pocket and how long it took you to actually get it. You weren’t giving that up for one stupid night, no matter how hot he was, and how good his lips felt on yours.

Usually Oscar, (you call him that now), never invited you to these things. He knew they weren’t really your scene. And you were appreciative of that. He knew you didn’t like alcohol, or smoking, or drugs, and he wanted to ask, so many times but he could tell that you probably didn’t wanna talk about it. And at the end of the day, did it really matter anyway? 

When Oscar came back with your water, you were thankful for the distraction from all the urges surrounding you. You didn’t want to leave too early - you didn’t want to disappoint Oscar, but if things started to become too overwhelming for you, you would have no choice. 

“Oscar?” You asked, looking him in his beautiful brown eyes.

“Hm?” He hummed wrapping his arm around your hips.

“Wanna dance with me?”

“I don’t dance mujer hermosa.”

You smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’ll dance with me.”

You pulled him to the lawn where everyone else who was dancing was, and pulled him in front of you. He smiled down at you amusingly following your lead. Reluctantly, he joined you and you both danced - until he decided he needed to be back in control and spun you around so that your back was against his, and you danced against him for a while.

He had to admit that you were unlike anyone he had ever met. He liked it, he liked you, so when you pulled away he was disappointed. You promised him you’d be back and you were just getting a refreshment. You asked if he wanted something, but he refused politely telling you he was fine. 

You went over to the refreshment table, but standing in front of the waters, perfectly stacked by Ruby, were two women, who were conversating. “Uhh, excuse me.”

They turned around with glasses full of tequila, their hair almost hitting you in the face. Their cleavage was hanging out, and from what you could tell, their asses were out as well. ‘Must be hella uncomfortable.’ you thought noticing how tight the clothes must be to leave nothing to the imaginations.

“Ooh look,” the brunette squealed, “it’s Spooky’s bitch.”

You were shocked. Since when were you anyone’s anything? You and Oscar sure haven’t put a label on anything, but you sure as hell weren’t claimed and definitely were not about to be called out of your name.

“I just want some water.” You sighed opting to take the easy way out. You didn’t want to start any fights here. 

“What don’t want nothing stronger?” The darker haired one asked. “Bourbon? Tequila? Beer? Whiskey?”

“The water is fine.” you were growing impatient with their antics. Could you just get your damn water?

“What you can’t take it? You a lightweight or somethin?”

You rolled your eyes, and the brunette caught it.

“La perra fea probablemente ni siquiera puede hablar español. ¿Para qué coño está ella aquí?”

(Ugly bitch probably can't even speak spanish. What the fuck she even here for?)

You scoffed, but waited to hear the other girl's reaction. 

“Ni siquiera sé lo que Spooky ve en ella. Probablemente esa mirada falsa e inocente que tenía.”

(I don't even know what Spooky see in her. Probably that fake innocent look she got going on.)

You were done with these girls but remembered that pin you had in your pocket and everything you had to do to get it. So you gained your composure.

“Escuchen chicas, solo quiero un poco de agua. Solo muévete de la puta manera.”

(Listen girls, I just want some water. Just move out the fucking way.)

And they moved out of your way. Despite what they said, that kind of hurt you, you didn’t want any drama. Especially with a crowd of gang members, and alcohol. It wouldn’t ev=nd well so yeah, you took the easy way out.

You went to go find Oscar, but you were pulled away by Ruby.  Jamal was next to him. “Hey Ruby, what’s up?”

“Hey Y/N…” he said, obviously hiding something.

“What’s wrong?” You asked wearily. 

He wouldn’t look you in the eyes. “Nothing….”

He was lying, and you were impatient. “Jamal, what’s going on.”

“Oscar and some guys are in the house asking why your like not drinking and smoking and stuff and they said that you were a sleeze and that you were way too innocent and that the only reason Spooky is with you is because you are good in bed but how would anyone know because you don’t dress like a -”

“Okay Jamal that’s enough!” Ruby yelled covering up Jamal’s mouth.

“You know I can’t keep secrets!”

You didn’t know what to say. In the back of your mind, you always thought about if Oscar would like you better if you drank, or if you smoked, but you had no idea he felt limited because you didn’t. You never asked him to quit, you never even told him not to do it around you, so what could possibly be his problem?

You clutched that pin in your pocket again and reminded yourself to not lose yourself again. No matter what people thought, or what they thought you were, it wasn’t worth it. 

The kids  were the only ones who knew about your past, so you were grateful they came and told you, but you had to leave. You could no longer hold up your happy persona, and you just wanted to go home where you knew that no guns, no drugs, no alcohol, and no weed would be around. 

“And what did Spooky say?”

Jamal took out his phone and pressed play on a recording.

You heard a chorus of guys laughing, and then eventually you heard Oscar’s voice.

“Nah I mean, it’s not like she’s too much of a bore or anything...she just don’t smoke or drink. It’s weird and sometimes I wish she would but I don’t know man. Maybe it’d be easier if she did -” 

Ruby snatched the phone before you could hear anymore, and you’re glad he did.

You hugged the boys, thanked them, and started walking away.

“Y/N where are you going?” Ruby called out to you.

“I’m going home guys, I can’t be here anymore.” The tears almost started falling, but you wiped them before you could. Ruby ran to you, and wrapped his arms around your waist hugging you tightly.

“I’m coming with you.” 

“I don’t want you to miss out on the fun.” you sniffled ruffling his hair.

“It’s not fun anymore.”

He and Jamal went home with you that night and watched movies with you, trying to cheer you up. They stayed over, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have boys like them in your lives - always there for you as you were for them. 

When Oscar realized you were gone, he called you repeatedly, and when you didn’t answer, he immediately hopped into his car and drove to your apartment. He knocked hard and knocked until you opened the door.

“What are you doing here Spooky?”

“What am I doing here?” he yelled. “And since when am I Spooky to you, huh?”

You were tired, and frustrated, and just a little heartbroken.

How dare he talk about you, and come to your door yelling at you.

“I need you to lower your voice.” you sighed. “You’ll wake the boys.”

“You think I give a fuck about those boys?” Tell me why you haven’t answered any of your calls, and why you left without telling me where the hell you’re going?”

“You don’t own me Spooky! You’re not my daddy! But I should just stick around though right? ‘Cause oh no, “she’s not too much of a bore,” Right? “It’d be easier if I smoke and drank though wouldn’t it? It’d be easier if I damaged my lungs, and my brain, and my stomach for you?! Fuck off Spooky.” You were on the verge of tears. “I’m not changing myself for you, or your petty ass friends, so just go the fuck home!” 

He didn’t know how to react with you yelling at him like that. He’s never seen this hurt side of you, and he’s sure he never ever wants to see it again. He didn’t know how you found out about what he was saying but he wishes you didn’t because he didn’t mean any of what he said the way you took it. Every time he looked into your eyes though, all he saw was hurt, pain, anger, and disbelief.

The same things he was feeling himself although he’d never admit it. It hurt his heart to see your red eyes botched from crying, pained him to see your hair a mess by how many times you’ve inevitably pulled it out of stress. It angered him that he said those things, and he was listening to all those whining bitches around him. He didn’t believe he could let himself listen to all those hating people that surrounded him on the daily.

Before he could defend himself, the door slammed in his face and he let it. He didn’t know what to say, but soon he would. There was no way he’d let you slip away. You were too good. But maybe that’s exactly why he should let you go. If tonight proved anything, it was that you weren’t for this life, and who was he to let you around it? Hell, maybe he shouldn’t be around it either. Maybe what tonight really proved to him was that life outside the Santos, and outside of the bad decisions and outside of the violence. If there’s one thing you taught him, it would be to never let anyone change him. The gang life changed him. The Santos changed him. But you were bringing the real him back out and of course like everything else, he fucked it up.

When he got back home, the party had dispersed. Cesar was in the living room, and he jumped when he heard Oscar come home slamming the door. He heard chairs being shoved, tables, cups. Anything in eyesight was being disheveled at the hands of Oscar.

“Aye, aye!! What the hell are you doing?!” Cesar yelled over the commotion.

“Fuck this shit man!” Oscar yelled to no one in particular.

Cesar rolled his eyes and went back to his room. Whatever the problem was, could be solved tomorrow. 

The next day though, once Ruby and Jamal left after telling them about a million times that you’d be okay, you started packing a bag. It’s time you went back to your old life and visit for a while.

It’s been 3 days, and 18 hourse since you’ve been gone - Cesar’s been counting because that’s how long Oscar’s been going fucking crazy. He was yelling at everyone, almost killed a guy, and just has been absolutely restless. He’s called you, texted you, went to your job, your house, your favorite restaurant and nothing. Oscar didn’t know what to do with himself. 

It hurt him to know you were out there mad at him, and he never got a chance to explain himself or tell you how sorry he was for everything he’s done. If there’s one thing he’s realized these past three days, is that he could live without you, but he didn’t want to.

Before you, he wasn’t taking care of himself. He thought of people as disposable, and he was literally angry all the time. After you though, he is quite literally almost a new person, and he loves who he is now. 

Without you though, he was back to being Spooky: the notorious gang leader. 

You gently lay the flowers down on the ground in front of you, followed by a single tear. Two years ago today, the love of your life overdosed. You remember like it was yesterday.

You had already gone off the grid when you met him. Drinking, smoking, and hookups almost every night. So when you met him, adding drugs to the mix wasn’t very hard. He had been your first and last dealer. All your friends tried to warn you to stay away from him, but you didn’t care. You were in love with him. He was caring, and kind, and funny. You were in a bliss. 

He had even asked you to marry him one night. You planned children with him. 

Unfortunately though, one night you came home to find him dead. He had overdosed while you went out to get more drinks. 

After his funeral, your friends basically kidnapped you, helped you detox, sent you to rehab, and went with you to AA (Alcohol Anonymous) meetings. It wasn’t as easy as it sounds though. Detox hurt like a bitch, and you’ve gone through it at least 5 times before you finally quit for good. You’ve gone to rehab a total of three times, and you can’t even count how many times you’ve gone to AA meetings.

At first you did it for him. You did it to try to get sober for the both of you - since he couldn’t anymore. But soon after you fell off the wagon, because trying to keep his memory alive wasn’t enough of a motivation. 

Wanting to get out of that life, and back to normal you realized, was motivation enough. You shouldn’t live for someone else - only for yourself.

Once you got over the guilt of his death, that’s exactly what you did. Lived for yourself.

When you left the cemetery, you got a couple of texts. The ones from Oscar you ignored, but the ones from Cesar, you immediately opened.

Cesar: Y/N. Spooky kicked me out, can I stay at yours? 

You: Ofc! You know where the key is.

Cesar: You’re a lifesaver, I love you forever.

You had to get back home. You couldn’t let Cesar live on his own, and you weren’t sure how much food you had in your fridge, how would he get food? And why the hell would Oscar kick him out? His own brother, only fifteen! Oh boy, you were gonna kick his ass when you got back home, for more reasons than one.

When you were finally back, you noticed Cesar dead asleep on your couch, blankets twisted every which way. His mouth hung open, arm across his face, chinese on the floor, and the tv still on. You couldn’t but laugh at his craziness. You fixed his blanket so that it was more comfortable for him, turned off the tv, and put up the chinese in case he wanted them for leftovers.

You wrote him a note in case he woke up during your visit to his brother.

‘Hey, I’m back. Don’t be alarmed, I’ll be right back.”

 Love, Y/N

The walk to Spooky’s was nauseating. Usually when you took this trip, your heart was ecstatic, and your stomach filled with butterflies. Usually, you couldn’t wait to see him, and couldn’t wait to hear his laugh, but now all you wanted to do was punch him in his face.

When you got there, surprisingly, there weren’t any people littered across the yard. Giving you a little extra courage considering the lack of people, you started knocking on the door..hard.

He opened it ready for a fight, but his body immediately deflated when he saw you.

“Y/N.” He breathed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? No seriously, what’s going on? Because no self respecting man would kick his teen brother out of the house.”

“I -”

“No. You listen. I don’t care about your reasoning, and I don’t care about anything you have to say. I only came down here to tell you that he’s staying with me, until you come to your fucking senses.”

“No, wait- “

“You don’t get to have the last word, Spooky.”

He absolutely hated when you called him that. When you said that name it sounded like poison, like your dehumanizing him. When others called him that, he felt a sense of authority. When you called him by that stupid ass name, it’s when he knows he’s fucked up, and he’s felt like you shot him in the chest 100 times. 

The next morning, you were eating breakfast with Cesar.

“Do you need a ride to school?” You ask.

He nods. 

“Okay, well after school I’m gonna take you shopping for new clothes too because you can’t go around in the same three outfits everyday.” You say trying to lighten the mood. 

“No, Y/N it’s okay. You’ve already done enough, believe me. I can’t ask for anymore.”

“Good thing you didn’t ask. And I sure as hell wasn’t asking either.”

Once you were pulled up in front of his school, he looked fidgety.

“Where did you go?” He asked, worried.

“I went to go say goodbye to my old life. For good.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a great thing.” You sighed . “Speaking of, I’m gonna go to one of my meetings after I drop you off. Do you need me to pick you up afterwards?”

“No I’m good. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to let a few things off my chest.”

_

As soon as you drove off, Cesar called his brother.

“What?” He sneered.

“If you want to make things up with Y/N, go to this address quickly.” He gave him the address. “Sit in the back, that way she won’t notice you.”

Oscar was beyond confused but nevertheless, he pulled up outside of a nice looking building and went inside, following the directions, and looking for the room number that Cesar gave him. When he looked inside, there were people all around sitting in chairs, and a podium in the very front that he noticed you walk up to.

He sat in the very back where Cesar told him so that you couldn’t see him.

“Hi, I’m Y/N and I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi Y/N.” The crown chorused.

This was an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting Oscar realized. You never told him you had a problem. Jesus Christ, he felt like a proper dick. He wanted to shoot himself. He wished he could take everything back, and apologize profusely.

“I’ve been sober for almost three years now.”

The crowd started clapping, including Oscar. He was proud of you.

“This past weekend,” you started, “I went to go visit my ex.”

Oscar’s jaw clenched, along with his fist. He was furious. So that’s what you’ve been doing this whole time? One fight, and you go back to your ex? 

“He overdosed four years ago.”

Oh. He died. Again, Oscar felt like a piece of shit.

“I went crazy when he died.” you began. “I literally almost killed myself with all of the drugs and alcohol consumption. It took me a long time to get back on my feet again, and to stop feeling sorry for what happened. Hell, I was going to marry the man I did drugs with! Granted, we were gonna come clean, but he died before he was given the chance. I still had a chance. It was hard, and this weekend proved that it was worth it.” 

There were tears in your eyes, and all Oscar wanted to do was wipe them away. God, he wanted to punch himself multiple times over and over again until he was almost dead. How dare he make you feel bad about something, let alone something that took you so long to overcome?

“I went to a party where there was alcohol and drugs and things, and there were so many temptations, but I didn’t give in, and I’m so happy I didn’t.” A few tears fell from your face. “I might have lost a person very important to me, but my sobriety is just as important, and I wasn’t going to give up almost three years worth for one night, and stupid people.”

You walked off the podium, and people started clapping loudly in support. Now that you’ve said these things out loud, the more great you felt. When you were finding your seat though, you caught a glimpse of someone in the back. You were furious. What the hell was he doing here?

You walked over to him, silently telling him to follow you, and he did right outside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N, I’m an asshole, I’m a jerk, and a ass, an idiot and a prick.”

You looked at the ground. “Go on.”

“I am so fucking sorry, you have no idea. I’m selfish, and I’m the dumbest fuckup ever, and I don’t know how to make it up to you.” 

He steps closer to you, and you let him.

“What I do know is that I’m a different person when I’m with you. I’m the person I want to be, and I know its such a fucking cliche but I have never loved anyone like I love you.”

You were crying now, and he was starting to too. He walked closer, and pulled you into a bear hug. 

“I shouldn't have judged you, and I’m so so sorry. I know talking and apologizing won’t make up for what I did, but what can I do?”

You stepped back, and looked him in his eyes before smacking him hard across his face.

He held the side of his face clearly hurt, and said nothing.

“I love you too jackass.”

He smiled, and pulled you to him kissing you softly. Tears fell between the two of you but you didn’t notice. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping both his strong arms around your waist lifting you a couple of inches from the ground. His lips tasted like honey between yours, you could feel all his stress evaporating as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck. When you pulled away, he pressed a quick chaste kiss to your jaw, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

_

A couple of weeks later, you learned why Oscar had kicked him out and in fear of you leaving him, and never forgiving him again, he solved it - just like you knew he could.

He seemed to figure out the most stupidest way to do so though because here he was in front of you bleeding, with gashes all over his face, arms and chest: Abuela helped clean him up.

“You’re an absolute dumbass.” You said, helping clean his wounds.

“I did what I had to do.”

_

The people who had talked about you at the party almost a month ago, apologized and you knew that Oscar had something to do with it.

Even though you never asked him to, Oscar also slowly stopped drinking and smoking.

When you confronted him about it, he just shrugged and said, “I don’t feel like damaging my lungs, my brain, and my stomach no more.”

You smiled, and cheekily climbed onto his lap pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to mamas,” He kissed you sweetly. “You’re worth it.”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch29. The Sokovia Accords Part 2: No, You Move.

Summary: Whilst discussing the proposed accords, Steve gets some bad news which makes everything pale into insignificance. And then, another ghost from his past comes back to haunt them.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Elements of this have been reworked/rewritten…for reasons which will become apparent at some point! And I’ve also added in the scene with Natasha at the church. I love the banner and edit too from @angrybirdcr​.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 29 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 Steve had hoped that the more casual setting would defuse the seriousness of the situation. But that went out of the window an hour or so later when Rhodey and Sam started going at it. Steve was sat in the arm chair carefully reading through the accords packet with a deep frown, Katie perched on the arm of the chair reading over his shoulder. Tony was reclined on the chaise to their right with his hand covering his face as Sam and Rhodey argued, Natasha sitting patiently down by Tony’s legs waiting for them to be done. Vision and Wanda were on the sofa to their other side, neither having said much.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional medal of Honour,” argued Rhodey from behind the chair. Katie turned to look at them both. “Which is one more than you have.” He mocked Sam.

“So let’s say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they Low-Jack us like a bunch of common criminals?” Sam shot back.

“A hundred an seventeen countries want to sign this. A hundred and seventeen, Sam, and you’re just like, no, that’s cool. We got it.”

“How long are you going to play both sides?” Sam snapped.

“I have an equation.” Vision spoke loudly before Rhodey could reply, causing both men to quiet down and everyone to look at him. Steve lifted his head from the packet bringing his arm up to rest on Katie’s thigh.

“Oh, now this will clear it up,” said Sam sarcastically.

“In the eight years since Mr Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.” Vision steeped his fingers together as he looked around a everyone.

“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve asked tensely, his hand on Katie’s leg became heavier.

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight isn’t an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

“Boom,” Rhodey exclaimed, believing that Vision had solidified his point.

Katie shook her head sighing,

“Sorry Vision, I disagree.” Everyone’s attention now turned to her. “Being supervised is one thing. But from what I’ve read these Accords want us to give up total control of what we do and when we do it.” She paused as Steve’s arm slid from her leg to wrap around her back. She then turned her attention to Tony and looked at him as he remained still, hand over his face. "Clearly this has been in the pipeline for some time now, so why are we only just hearing about it?”

Tony glanced at her from underneath his hand, not offering an answer, as she continued.

“And less than a week to come to a decision on something like this? They’re trying to back us into a corner without giving us any proper time to discuss or negotiate the terms and its wrong.” She finished simply, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

“Boom.” Sam repeated from behind her.

“Tony.” Natasha addressed him as he removed his hand from his face. “You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal,”

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind,” Katie raised her eyebrow.

“Kiddo, you know me so well.” Tony scoffed then groaned, standing up and moving over to the kitchen area with a sigh "Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache. That’s what’s going on. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” Another frustrated sigh escaped him as he faffed with something in the sink. “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Tony moved to the other countertop slapping down the coffee mug and coffee pot before pulling his phone from his pocket and dropping it onto the fruit basket, then turning it on revealing the hologram of a young man.

“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way,” said Tony with fake carelessness. “He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul before he parked it behind a desk; see the world, maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun.” He spat sarcastically, “He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor guess where: Sokovia.”

He slammed his mug down as he stared round the room in anger, whilst Katie looked over at Wanda who bowed her head the moment her home was mentioned.

“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were 'kicking ass’.” Tony ran a hand down his face before taking a drink of his coffee. “There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.” He concluded, walking around the counter to lean back against it holding his arms over his chest.

“Tony,” Steve began gently. “If someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up.”

“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony questioned.

“We are for not taking responsibility for our actions.” Continued Steve. “This document just shifts the blame.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. That is dangerously arrogant.” Rhodey interrupted “This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA.”

“No, but its run by people with agendas, and agendas change.” Steve shot back, earnestly.

“That’s good.” Tony answered, re-joining the group. “That’s why I’m here. Look, Cap, me and Kiddo, when we realized what Stark weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, we shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

“Yeah, but Tony, we chose to do that.” Katie jabbed at her chest as she blazed at her brother, her voice gathering momentum and volume. “If we sign these then the next time something like that happens we won’t have the right to choose!“

"What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go?” Steve continued his hand gently rubbing at Katie’s back. He was glad they were on the same page, but he didn’t want her getting upset and falling out with Tony. “What if there is somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us?” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.”

Tony looked down at the couple who both stared back at him. He rolled his eyes again. Of course they would be united on this, they were united on everything. But there were bigger things at stake here. If they didn’t agree, they’d be forced to retire, and the team would be split up. And he couldn’t let that happen.

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty,” Tony explained, his tone almost pleading.

“You’re saying they’ll come for me?” Asked Wanda quietly.

“We would protect you,” Vision added placing a gentle hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

“Maybe Tony’s right.” Natasha spoke, turning her eyes to both Katie and Steve, trying to get them to see her point. Katie looked at her incredulously, and Steve’s mouth fell open a little in surprise. “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam frowned, interrupting her in disbelief.

“I’m just…reading the terrain.” She sighed. “We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up – I’m sorry, did I just mishear you, or did you agree with me?” Tony looked at her.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I want to take it back now.” She groaned but Tony was quick to cut in.

“No, you can’t retract it.” He said, waving a finger at her. “Thank you. Unprecedented. Case closed I win.”

As Katie shot some annoyed response back to Tony, something along the lines of him being ‘an egotistical, arrogant prick’, Steve felt his phone going in his pocket. He shifted slightly to pull it out and glanced down. It was a message from Peggy’s son, Michael.

‘She’s gone, in her sleep.’

As the meaning behind the words sunk in, his throat tightened, and suddenly the damned accords didn’t matter anymore. Taking a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest, he felt the familiar sting of tears in his in his eyes but he didn’t want to break down, not here, not in front of the team.

“I have to go.” He breathed out, handing the Accords to Katie before standing and leaving the room quickly without meeting anyone’s eye.

He made it to the stairwell, leaning against the railings, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself down but he couldn’t. The tears began to fall and he slumped down onto one of the steps. Which was where Katie found him a few minutes later, shocked to see his shoulders were shaking. She said nothing until she had made her way down to him, wedging herself on the step beside him between him and the wall.

“Stevie?” She asked quietly inspecting his face, seeing the tears across his cheeks. “Sweetheart, what is it.”

“It’s err..” He sniffed and wiped at his nose with a finger, not looking at her “It’s Peg. She’s gone.”

“Oh, no.” Katie muttered, dropping her head. Poor Peggy. She had been quite ill over the last few weeks and the Doctors had said it was unlikely she would recover, but the both of them had been hoping to get to see her to say their goodbyes. Katie felt the tears sting her eyes as she opened up her arms and Steve immediately fell into them. Sometimes it was much too easy to forget how young and inexperienced life wise he actually was at heart and Katie simply held him, as she felt his tears hit her neck. Gently she ran her fingers through his hair as they sat still, not saying a word.

"Will you come with me to the funeral?” His voice was hoarse and muffled but she heard him anyway

“Of course I will.” she said looking at him as he pulled away, his eyes red. She reached up to wipe his face with the back of her hand as he rest his forehead against hers. “Of course I will.”

***** London was caught in the middle of a summer storm when they arrived, four days later. The wind and rain whipped Katie’s hair about her face as they stepped from the StarkJet onto the tarmac of Gatwick Airport. They made their way towards the waiting car, Steve’s large hand taking her smaller, and somewhat colder, one in his as they walked, Sam pacing at his other side. The drive to the hotel was filled mainly with Sam and Katie chatting as she pointed out various landmarks to the man, Steve remaining silent on the whole apart from chipping in when he was spoken to.

His sombre mood continued through to the evening, and when Katie told him that Sam was meeting up with some of his old Air Force buddies and suggested that the two of them head out for something to eat, he was torn between wanting to go out and try to enjoy some time with her, and this strange urge he felt to simply curl up in the relative safety of the hotel room with her, alone. And then there was the war which was raging inside him, an internal battle in the depth of his conscious and mind. He was married to Katie, he loved her, more than he’d ever loved anyone. And yet, here he was grieving so much for a woman who, when all was said and done, he hadn’t actually known for that long. Peggy was his past, Katie was his here and now, his future, his forever. So why did he feel this way?

“Stevie.” Katie’s voice gently shook him from his thoughts and he turned away from the view of the Thames he’d been observing through the floor to ceiling window of their suite and faced her. “We don’t have to go anywhere to eat if you don’t want to.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I just, I feel…”

“Upset? Tired of pretending you’re okay?” She supplied and he gave a little huff of laugher, shaking his head as he looked at the soft, deep blue carpet of the room.

“You know, are you sure you don’t have some kind of secret mind reading power?” He looked at her once more and she smiled softly.

“No, I just know you.” She stepped forward and held out her arms and Steve moved to fall into them, his cheek resting on her head as he let out a shaky breath. “You don’t have to hide it in front of me, you know.” She pulled back to look at him, her hands cupping his face.

“I love you.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.” She frowned before her head tilted to the side as she considered what he had just said, suddenly understanding. “Wait, is that what’s bothering you? How I feel?”

His lack of response spoke volumes as he looked down once more, his large hands gently wrapping around her wrists, moving her hands to her side so he could lace his fingers between hers.

“Oh, Steve!” Katie shook her head and her fingers tightened around his. “You’ve every right to feel how you do, Peggy meant a lot to you.”

“She did, yeah, but so do you.” He glanced at her, his blue eyes shining with tears. “In fact, you mean more to me than anything else ever has. I just wanna be sure you know that.”

“If I didn’t know it, I wouldn’t have married you.” Katie shrugged simply. “But, Soldier, just because you love me the way you do, doesn’t mean that you never loved Peggy, or that you still can’t in some ways.” When he didn’t reply, Katie studied him for a moment, before she took a deep breath. “Steve, look at me, please.” He did as she asked and she gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay, I promise you I understand.”

He gave her another little smile as she stood on her toes to brush her lips against his. “Now, I’m gonna draw you a bath. You’re gonna get in, and you’re gonna relax.”

“Is that an order, Ma’am?” He smiled and Katie chuckled.

“Yeah, it is. And you know what else I’m gonna order? A fuck tonne of room service.”

It was Steve’s turn to chuckle as she smiled. “Then we can raid the mini-bar and bunker down for the evening. How’s that sound?”

Steve smiled, his hand reaching up to brush a piece of hair behind her ears. “It sounds okay, but would be a whole lot better if you said you were gonna join me in the bath.”

Katie smiled, her eyes flashing a little as he leaned down and captured her lips with his, the kiss slow and deep. Her arms slid up round his neck, fingers softly skating along his hairline and he let out a contented sigh as she broke away, his forehead pressing to hers, hands softly flexing on her hips. Without another word she pulled away before taking his hand, and gently leading him through the suite to the bathroom.

***** Steve didn’t sleep well that night. His mind was in overdrive, his subconscious showing him people he hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. He dreamt about Peggy, Bucky, Howard, the Howlies…and Katie. Even in dreams about his past she was there, ever present, just like she was in his life. When he woke up from a particularly vivid flashback about crashing back into the ice, he jerked bolt upright with a yell, his breathing desperate and ragged. Katie sat up beside him, her hand on his clammy back as she gently soothed him, her calm and quiet. Steve swallowed, turning to face her as she sat looking at him, concern etched on her face. She made to get out of bed to fetch him a glass of water but he stopped her, his large hand curling gently around her arm. He needed her, and he wasted no time at all in making sure she understood that. As she lay underneath him, her hands wrapped around his back, nails biting his skin, he fucked her, hard and fast, into the mattress, the relief washing over him like a tidal wave. When he evened out, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him, his hand carding through her hair as hers traced random shapes over his chest. The pair of them lay still, gentle and loving touches and kisses being shared as they simply talking until the sun rose. And then Steve found himself back over his wife once more as he stuffed himself insider her again, only this time he made love to her, as softly and as gently as he could, needing to feel every single inch of her against him as he surrendered to that bliss that only she could ever make him feel.

They took a room service breakfast and at just before Eleven they met Sam in the Reception of the hotel and made their way to the church. Steve, who had been asked by Peggy’s family to be a pall bearer, hung back outside as Katie and Sam took their seats along the front pew of the Church. It wasn’t long before the choir began to sing and Katie turned as the procession walked down the aisle. Steve held the front right-hand corner of the coffin, carrying it with stiff steps, his cheeks wet, eyes red rimmed and full of tears. Katie felt Sam squeeze her shoulder, and she turned to face him briefly.

“My heart is breaking for him, Sam.” She whispered through her own tears as Sam dropped his hand to take hers, as they both watched the six men place the coffin at the front of the church. Sam released Katie’s hand with another gentle squeeze and they shuffled down to make room for Steve who took her left hand, seeking out her comfort and contact as he stared at the picture to the side of the coffin. It showed the Peggy he had known, back in the Forties, standing tall and proud in her uniform.

When the choir song ended they all sat, Steve staring down at his wife’s hand wrapped in his, and he began to play with her wedding and engagement rings, twirling them round her finger, his mind straying to his wedding and how he had told Katie at the toasts he was only strong because she made him that way. He was so glad she was with him now. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly felt her hand contract around his, quite hard, and he looked up at her. When he did she nodded her head in the direction of the podium. Steve’s eyes followed then did a slight double take at who was stood there.

Agent Thirteen of Shield special service and his ex-neighbour.

“Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of Shield.” The woman who’s name Steve recalled being told by Natasha was Sharon, began, sounding nervous. “But I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.”

Peggy’s Niece? Steve couldn’t believe his ears. All that time she had been living across the hall, spying on him…and she was Peggy’s niece?

“She had a photograph in her office, Aunt Peggy standing next to JFK. As a kid, that was pretty cool. But, it was a lot to live up to. Which is why I barely told anyone we were related.” Sharon glanced down at Steve, like she was offering him some form of explanation.

“I asked her once how she managed to master diplomacy and espionage at a time when no one wanted to see a woman succeed at either.” Sharon swallowed before she continued, her voice becoming stronger. “And she said, 'Compromise when you can. But when you can’t, don’t. Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right. Even if the whole world is telling you to move, it is your duty, to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say, 'No, you move.”

Katie glanced at Steve then to Sam, the three of them sharing a knowing glance. Those words were powerful, especially given the situation with the Accords. And for Steve, it was almost like Peggy was speaking to him, still giving him advice even in her death.

Despite the utter sorrow he was feeling, Steve couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment.

Thanks Peg…

*****

Katie watched as Steve leaned against the end of one of the pews, lost in his thought. He’d by passed the part where they were actually putting Peggy into the ground, saying he didn’t want to see it so instead, Katie had given him a moment to pay his respects along, waiting for him to give her some direction as to what he wanted to next.

As always, he seemed to know she was there before she even made a sound and he looked up, giving her a small smile as she walked down the middle of the church aisle towards him.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He smiled as she stopped in front of him, opening her arms to give him a hug.

“How you doing?” She asked softly, her lips brushing his temple as he pressed his face into her neck.

“I’m okay.” He assured her, pulling back. “Just, suppose it’s sunk in that she’s actually gone, you know.” Katie gave him a sad smile. “When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her.”

“She had you back, too.” Katie looked at him.

“Yeah, and at least I knew where she was, unlike Bucky.”

“Don’t give up on him just yet, love.” Katie rubbed his arm as he placed a kiss to her forehead. Steve glanced once more to the front of the church and Katie followed his glance to look at the flowers placed on the alter.

“It was a nice service.” She said, her arm looping round his waist.

“Yeah, it was.” A familiar voice spoke and both of them whipped round to see Natasha strolling towards them. Steve let out a little scoff and looked down, shaking his head.

“You know, I thought I saw you before but convinced myself I was seeing things.”

“Well, I was sorta in the area.” She shrugged. There was a pause before Steve voiced what was on his mind since he’d left the compound a few days ago.

“Who else signed?” Steve asked.

“Tony. Rhodey. Vision.”

“Clint?” Katie asked.

Nat smiled slightly. “Says he's retired.”

“Wanda?” Steve looked at her.

“TBD” Nat answered. Katie looked at Steve before Nat took a deep breath. “I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet.”

Steve sighed and bowed his head.

“Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path.” Nat continued. “Staying together is more important than how we stay together.”

“Are you trying to convince us or yourself?” Katie asked and Natasha merely held her gaze.

“What are we giving up to do it?” Steve shook his head as Natasha turned to him. “I'm sorry, Nat. I can't sign it.”

“Me neither.” Katie added. “Not as they stand.”

“I know.” Nat smiled.

“Then what are you doing here?” Steve looked at her.

“Well, like I said, I was in the area.” Nat’s eyes flicked to the alter. “Plus, knowing who she is and what she did. I might never have met her but, well, it felt right to pay my respects.” She then looked back at them both. “Plus, I wanted to see you, check you were okay.” She said the last part to Steve more than Katie and he gave her a little smile as she moved to give him a hug.

****

They decided to go to the wake, and Katie took the chance to seek out Sharon where she was standing among a group of people, making polite conversation but clearly looking for a way out, which Katie was happy to provide, squeezing her elbow gently, and gesturing with her head for the blonde woman to follow her.

“I really am sorry about Peggy,” Katie began as they settled at an empty table. “She was a phenomenal woman.”

"Thank you,” Sharon said softly. “That means a lot. You know she liked you?”

Katie chuckled “She told me once or twice.” “I think she was happy that Steve found someone.” Sharon smiled. “Someone that makes him happy.”

Katie glanced at where Steve and Sam were waiting at the bar. Steve shot her a glance over his shoulder and smiled softly, before Katie returned her attention to the woman opposite her.  

“So this accords thing?” Sharon changed the subject “It’s really happening?”

“Looks that way, yeah.”

“And where do you stand on it?”

“I’m not signing” Katie shook her head. “Not the way they stand, that’s for sure. And seeing as they don’t seem to want to negotiate terms, it’s a non-starter.”

“Does Steve feel the same?”

Katie nodded. “And Sam.”

Before Sharon could question her further, Katie’s eyes flicked to a point over her shoulder and she gave a side smile as the boys approached.

“Ladies,” Sam baritone smoothly, sitting in the seat next to Sharon and setting down a drink in front of her. From the look on the blonde’s face, this surprised her, but she accepted nonetheless with a thanks. Steve sat next to Katie handing over another glass of wine, whilst pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“You okay?” She whispered before he pulled away completely. He nodded and cleared his throat.

“Yeah. I saw just telling Sam about what Nat said.”

“And I was cheering to an honourable discharge.” Sam snorted sarcastically as he raised his glass. “Again.”

“Sorry, for jumping in but, if you’re not signing the Accords then what does that mean for you all?” Sharon looked round the table

“I dunno.” Steve smiled softly, shaking his head.

“Ultimate fighting?” Sam cut in, and Steve snorted as Katie laughed. “I told you, you’d be great at it.”

"More like an early retirement.” Steve stated, a small smile playing on his face.

“Not really that early though is it, Cap?” Sam continued his ribbing “I mean like you are hundred or whatever…”

As was natural with these type of functions, a few hours later people started to leave and eventually Peggy’s children headed over to the table to say their goodbyes. As they all stood to offer their condolences once more, something Michael said about Peggy being a woman of many surprises, brought back something which had been weighing heavily on Steve’s mind since he had left the church.

When Sharon stated that she was heading back to her hotel, Steve suggested that she walked with them, but for the most of the short walk, he remained silent, brooding over his thoughts. And it was only when they reached the door to Sharon’s hotel that he spoke, telling Katie that he’d meet her and Sam in their hotel bar in a couple of minutes.

She shot him a puzzled look but he had simply shook his head in a silent instruction not to argue. So, she merely shrugged, linked her arm through Sam’s and they crossed the road and headed straight inside, crossing the lobby.

“What’s all that about?” Sam asked as he held the heavy wooden door open for her. Katie shrugged and stepped into the room.

“Beats me, he obviously has something on his mind.” She said, walking into the large wooden bar which curved along the back of the circular room. “Can I have…” she trailed off as she spotted the TV on the wall behind the bar tender, which was programmed to the BBC news.

Her eyes widened and she felt Sam stiffen besides her.

“Is this…is this live?” She asked the guy who was waiting to serve them. He nodded. “Can you turn the volume up?”

He nodded again and obliged.

“…at the moment we know that over 70 people have been injured and that number is rising. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

Katie swallowed as the picture of the suspect flashed across the screen. It looked like Bucky alright.

“Shit.” Sam said, from behind her.

“Go, get Steve.” She urged, “I need to call Tony.”

*****

“My mom tried to talk me out of enlisting, but, um, not Aunt Peggy. She bought me my first thigh holster.” Sharon smiled as they walked through the lobby.

“Very practical.” Steve nodded.

“And stylish.” Sharon smiled as she stopped by the elevator, pressing the call button before she turned to look at Steve.

“CIA has you stationed over here now?”

“In Berlin, Joint Terrorism Task Force.”

“Right. Right.” Steve nodded. “Sounds fun.”

“I know, right?” Sharon chuckled.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Steve took a deep breath, finally voicing what was on his mind. “When you were spying on me from across the hall…”

“You mean when I was doing my job?” Sharon interrupted but Steve ignored her.

“Did Peggy know?”

Sharon considered him for a moment, before she let out a gentle sigh.

“She kept so many secrets. I didn’t want her to have one from you.” Sharon lay her hand on his arm, and Steve felt the weight lift off his shoulders. He had been so scared that Peggy had been lying to him for the past few years, to hear that she hadn’t was a relief.

“Thanks for walking me back.” Sharon nodded to the elevator “Tell Katie and Sam I’m grateful.”

She moved to give Steve a hug, and he obliged, but the broke apart when they both heard footsteps running towards them.  

“Steve…you gotta see this.” Sam urged and Steve frowned, looking at him, before he spotted Katie running into the lobby, and looking round.

He moved instantly towards her, and she spotted him, hurrying straight towards him.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked, his hands gently curling round her upper arms.

“There’s been a bomb in Vienna.” She explained, taking a deep breath. “A deliberate attack on the signing ceremony.”

Steve felt himself grow cold. “Is everyone okay?”

“I got through to Tony and they’re all safe but the King of Wakanda. He’s dead, Steve” Katie took a deep breath. “And…” She trailed off licking her lips as she took a deep breath.

“Katie, what is it?” Steve’s voice wasn’t unkind but it was firm as he looked at her, and she threw her head back, looking at the ceiling for a moment before, with a monumental effort, she looked back at him, swallowing deeply.

“It’s Bucky, Steve.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “It looks like he’s responsible.”

**** Chapter 30

**Original Posting**

[dreamlover31]

Love Will Find a Way: Chapter 2

At the end of an exhausting day at the shelter, Alexa returned to her apartment to get herself ready for her date with Rafael later that evening. After entering her apartment, she headed towards her bedroom where she left a trail of clothes in her wake as she went into the bathroom, she turned on the faucet and stepped into the warm spray of her shower. As the water cascaded down her naked form, the stress of the day had essentially been washed away along with the suds from the body wash, shampoo and conditioner; when she was finished, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. 

After exiting the bathroom, Alexa made haste to the walk in closet, as she browsed through her wardrobe, she felt a little giddy at the idea that she was about to have dinner with the most well renowned ADA in all of Manhattan. After making a second sweep of her closet, she finally settled on a spaghetti strapped, maroon colored dress that practically screamed sexiness. Hmmm, I wonder if maybe this is too forward…I mean it’s a gorgeous dress but I just don’t want to give him the wrong impression, suddenly she was startled by the vibrations coming from her phone that laid on top of the dresser right across from her bed.

As she looked at the screen, she saw that it was a text from Rafael.

Hey just wanted to let you know that I’ll be a little late in picking you up, have to finish up some paperwork at the office, I should be there no less than 5 minutes.

After she read his text, she quickly sent one of her own telling him that she understood his situation and that she would wait for him, once it was sent Alexa continued to finish getting ready; she decided to go with the maroon dress and then picked out a pair of black four inch heels. From there she went through her jewelry box and decided on a pair of black beaded chandelier earrings and a choker, then she sprayed on her favorite rose scented perfume and went over to the long wide mirror that hung on the bathroom door, as she gave herself a quick glance over, she thought to herself: oh yeah, this is definitely the outfit…I hope Rafael doesn’t have a heart attack when he sees it. It was then that she heard a knock at the door, when she reached it, she opened it ajar only to find that it was Rafael standing there holding a bouquet of roses.

After she unlatched the chain, Alexa proceeded to fully open the door and stepped aside to let him in, as she turned around to face him, his jaw practically fell to the floor when he said:

“Wow…you look beautiful”

“Thank you, are those for me,” Alexa asked as she pointed to the bouquet in his hands.

“Oh yes, here” 

After he handed her the flowers, Alexa went into the kitchen to put them in some water, meanwhile, Rafael decided to take an impromptu tour of tour of her apartment. Overall, he was impressed at how meticulous and coordinated the furniture was; a beige colored couch that sat in the middle of the living room as an oak brown coffee table laid out in front of it, a 50-inch plasma screen placed up against the wall on top of a TV stand that matched the color of the coffee table. Also, he takes note of the colorful landscape paintings that hung along the wall, when he finished looking across the room, he then made his way towards the bookshelf that sat on the left hand side of the room. 

As he glanced at the collection of romance, crime and justice, and self-help books; he did not notice that Alexa had come up from behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder, he quickly turned around as she said:

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you”

“It’s alright, I was just admiring your collective works of art here”

Alexa smiled, “Well shall we make our way down to the restaurant” 

After gathering her purse, they made their way out the apartment and upon exiting the building, Alexa slinked her arm around Rafael’s as they walked down towards the Italian restaurant. During their stroll, Rafael couldn’t help but peek at Alexa’s remarkable physique, her long slender legs, the curvature of her body and the pout that formed from her perfect lips that made it difficult for him not to lean over and kiss her. Alexa felt Rafael’s gaze upon her and smirked.

“Why don’t you take a picture it’ll last longer”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare”

“It’s ok I get it”

A few moments later, they made it to the entrance of the restaurant, before even entering; the smell of garlic bread and parmesan flooded their senses. Their mouths practically watering as they entered, Rafael made it known to the hostess that they had a reservation, after it was confirmed, she escorted the two of them halfway across the restaurant to their table. Once they were seated, a waiter came by to take their drink orders, both Rafael and Alexa ordered a glass of red wine. As he took his leave, the two of them looked upon each other while being surrounded by the chatter and commotion of the restaurant, a few minutes went by before Alexa decided to break the ice:

“So how’s work?”

“Ugh…brutal, I recently lost a case in which a television actor and his friend gang raped a woman in the bathroom of a nightclub”

“The Bobby D’Amico case?”

“Yeah”

“Oh man…I saw it on the news, but kudos to whoever leaked that video of the two of them almost raping that undercover cop. Those bastards got what was coming to them”

“I couldn’t agree more”

It was then that the waiter came back with their glasses of wine, at the same time, Rafael and Alexa placed their order. He ordered the chicken parmesan while Alexa ordered a simple pasta dish, as the waiter departed from their table again, the two of them continued their conversation:

“Listen I hope you don’t mind me asking but what made you decide to work at a domestic violence shelter?”

Alexa paused for a moment as she took a sip of her wine.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to…” Rafael’s voice trailed off but then Alexa interrupted:

“No it’s ok…um my dad he uh…he would use my mother as his personal punching bag, whenever he thought that she was cheating on him or for no reason at all. One time he beat her so bad that she bled out all over the kitchen floor, she had to have 20 stitches in her head.”

As she continued to describe the horrors of her childhood, tales that involved severe beatings and acts of emotional terrorism, small tears started to prick in her eyes. Rafael reached out to comfort her by placing his hand on top of hers as he looked upon her with eyes that conveyed to her that he understood her pain, with her free hand; Alexa wiped her eyes.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through that…I know what it’s like to live in a house where you don’t know what’s going to set a madman off”

“What do you mean?”

“My father was like yours…he took out his misery and self-loathing on me and my mother, I hated every minute of it, there were times where I’d pray for his death. Even though he’s been dead for 15 years, my hand still curls up into a fist whenever I think of him. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s probably one of the reasons that I became a prosecutor…I wanted to provide a voice for those who were being treated like they were less than human beings”

“Wow…I don’t what to say”

“Well we all have a past, the trick is to not let it define us”

“True”

The waiter came back with their orders shortly after, when he left, they reached for their utensils and proceeded to dive into the fine cuisine displayed before them. During the course of their meal, Alexa and Rafael continued with small talk, but then he brought up the subject of her last relationship and all of sudden it was like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“There’s really not much to tell Rafael”

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry”

“Alright…you want to know the story? I gave the guy a year of my life that I’ll never get back only to find out that he’d been screwing some piece of office trash on the side”

“If you don’t mind me saying, he was a fool to let someone as smart and as beautiful as you go…seems to me like he didn’t know what he had”

Alexa smiled as his words sunk in, it became apparent to her that maybe she had finally found someone who would appreciate her and possibly love her in the way that she deserved to be, once they cleaned off their plates, Rafael asked for the check. After paying the bill, he proceeded to walk Alexa back to her apartment building, along the way; Alexa thanked him for his kind words but he reiterated to her that he meant every single word.

“Well here we are,” Alexa noted as they stood facing each other outside her apartment building.

“I had a really great time tonight”

“Me too”

After a brief moment, Rafael leaned in to kiss Alexa only to have her pull away from him.

“I’m sorry, I just”

“It’s ok I understand”

“Please don’t take this wrong way, I really like you but I just want to take things slow”

“Alexa, It’s alright”

With that, they exchanged their goodbyes as she made her way up to her apartment, as soon as he had visual confirmation that she was inside, Rafael walked down the street and waved down a passing cab. Alexa looked out her window as she saw the cab drove by with Rafael in it, as she made her way towards the bedroom, she began cursing at herself for letting a golden opportunity get away from her; What the hell is wrong with you?

Tagging: @madpanda75 @laceybellerain @southern-magnolia @tropes-and-tales @thatesqcrush @teamsladsandgents @karens-imagined-world @itsjustmyfantasyroom @youreverycolor @misssirenlove @beccabarba @glimmerglittergirl​ @madamsnape921

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Party For One

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Word Count: 4k whoopsssss

Rating: PG

Warnings: language, drinking, angst for most of it, a teeny bit of fluff, joe is a bit of a shithead in this one, sorry gang

A/N: hey remember how i was supposed to be finishing doj part two and instead i word-vomited this out in five hours at work yesterday? anyway, enjoy.

He hasn’t changed a bit, you thought to yourself as you watched him, always the life of the party. He’d been that way all through high school, the summers you saw him between college semesters, and the few gatherings he made appearances at when he was home.

You’d always been right beside him, too. Pre-gaming at a friend’s house, sharing the mic during karaoke, rubbing his back as he leaned over the toilet, crashing on the couch or the floor or wherever you could find a spot.

But now you were out of your element. You were in his other world. You were surrounded by vaguely familiar faces, people you knew you had probably seen in a movie or a tv show but you couldn’t place them exactly. And there he was, across the room, animatedly entertaining a small group with some anecdote you’d probably heard before.

He was obviously the reason you were here. He had been begging you to come out to Los Angeles for years now. Years of you’d love it out here and you and I both know you’d take the industry by storm and I miss my best friend. Eventually, you relented. Mostly because your career in real estate was exhaustingly boring and you needed a change. Acting had always been something you enjoyed but never looked at as a career opportunity until now. But you had to admit, you missed your best friend too.

So you packed up everything, drove across the country, and settled into Joe’s guest room. You had a meeting with his agency on Monday, but of course Joe, always the party host, insisted that you needed a welcoming get-together upon arrival. Which soon turned into a complete blow-out. In fact, you were pretty sure most of the guests in attendance had no idea what the party’s true origin was, let alone who you were.

So there you were, only hours since you had arrived, left to nurse your beer off in the corner. Part of you wished you and Joe could have had a quiet night in, catching up over pizza and a comedy special. But you knew deep down that would have just exacerbated the situation you found yourself in. Seeing Joe in the flesh once again had caused some...feelings to resurface. Feelings that you had worked for years to suppress, and had been hoping were completely gone by now.

All it took was him opening his front door and pulling you into a tight hug for all of those feelings to come rushing right back.

Sometimes he did things that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he felt the same. Like the way he used to wrap a protective arm around you when the two of you walked around Brooklyn at night. The way he could sense when you were having a rough day just through your texts, and suddenly a delivery of Insomnia Cookies would arrive at your apartment door. The way every hello and goodbye hug lasted just a moment longer than was probably appropriate for two friends. But surely you were reading into it.

You knew he wasn’t avoiding you. No, he couldn’t be. Sure, the second other guests had started to arrive, his focus turned from you to them. And sure, he hadn’t given you the time of day since. But he wasn’t avoiding you, no. He was just a popular guy, he always had been.

You pushed those negative thoughts away, not willing to accept them.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” sounded a familiar voice with a British lilt from behind you. You turned and were met with ocean blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones.

“Gwil,” you breathed out, almost in relief. Someone you knew. The tall man pulled you in for a bear hug, immediately putting you at ease. You appreciated the gesture considering you and Gwil weren’t even that close, only meeting each other a few times back when the Borhap cast was briefly in New York.

“Did that asshole leave you here alone at a party full of people you don’t know?” Gwil asked as he pulled away. You chuckled at his frankness.

“You know how he is,” you mused, offering a smile and a shrug. “He’s gotta entertain everybody.”

“Now did I hear correctly that you’re moving out here?” Gwil questioned, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall next to you.

“Got here a few hours ago, in fact,” you explained. “I’ll be occupying the guest room until I find my own place.” Gwil chuckled at that.

“You quite literally just got here and he’s off chatting with people he sees all the time?” Gwil clarified, earning an exasperated nod from you. “I’m going to go ahead and apologize on behalf of that bastard.” You let out a genuine laugh at that, clearly pleasing Gwil if his smile was any indication. “So how was the trip out here?”

And that’s how you found yourself tucked into the hallway of Joe’s apartment, just exchanging stories with Gwil. You welcomed the change in subject, not wanting to harp on the whole Joe situation. You told him about the weird truck stop in Ohio, the delicious pizza you devoured in Chicago, the loud hotel neighbors you encountered in Colorado, and your brief stint in Las Vegas. Gwil offered his own road trip tales before the conversation shifted, and eventually he was regaling stories about various sets he’d worked on, actors he’d worked with, and general knowledge of the business. He even offered some much needed advice, melting away some of your initial anxieties about your career change. All feelings of loneliness and inklings of frustration at Joe were long gone, and you mentally thanked Joe for inviting at least one person you knew.

“Can I ask you something?” Gwil inquired after a little while, the two of you finding yourselves settled out in chairs on Joe’s balcony, enjoying the night air of LA.

“Fire away.”

“Did you and Joe ever date or anything?”

You burst out laughing at the question, shaking your head.

“No, no, definitely not,” you replied before taking a sip of your beer. You chanced a look at Gwil, finding him eyeing you warily.

“That’s surprising,” he admitted before pursing his lips and gently caressing his own beard, a gesture you noticed he did often.

“Why is that surprising?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Just the way he talks about you…” Gwil trailed off, his gaze focusing on the city lights before him. Your heart slammed against your chest at his words. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to let Gwil know just how important what he was saying was to you.

“How...how does he talk about me?” you followed up, attempting to hide the quiver in your voice. Gwil immediately turned back to face you, his eyes glinting mischievously. His lips curved into a soft smile before he said your name gently.

“He...he’s in awe of you,” Gwil confessed. “I swear he talked about you constantly while we were shooting the film. ‘She’d be a great actress if she wanted to be. She’s funny, she’s charming, and she’s got the looks and talent.’ Everything reminded him of a funny story involving you. We practically knew you before we even met you.” Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as Gwil spoke. Sure, Joe had complimented you before. But something about the fact that he had practically bragged about you to people who didn’t even know you made your stomach flutter.

You realized Gwil had stopped talking and you met his gaze, finding his eyes narrowed at you.

“You should tell him,” he finally said after a few moments.

“Tell him what?” you asked, playing dumb. You knew exactly what he was referring to. The man had seen right through you. He smiled, this time seeing right through your act of denial.

“How you feel.”

You ran your hands over your face and let out a groan.

“I literally just moved in, Gwil,” you reasoned. “I don’t want to make him feel awkward about me staying here by telling him about the feelings he very clearly doesn’t reciprocate.” You gestured inside the apartment, where Joe was still talking it up with a few guys you recognized from Undrafted.

Gwil leaned forward, shuffling closer to you and placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“I know his actions tonight make it seem like he couldn’t care less. But I promise you, he’s so happy to have you here. He adores you. More than you even realize.”

You chewed on Gwil’s words, your mind swimming. You believed him; he had no reason to lie to you. But you just wished what Gwil told you lined up with how Joe had been behaving all night.

Eventually the two of you made your way back inside, to find the party had somewhat died down. Joe had shifted into clean up mode while the last small group was starting to make their exit. You instinctively began to straighten up, grabbing beer bottles and paper plates and disposing of them while Joe worked on packing up the leftover food.

You were tying up a full trash bag when Joe brushed past you, not even acknowledging your presence. Your heart sunk, knowing full well you couldn’t use the excuse that Joe was just distracted by others this time.

He was actually ignoring you.

As you opened a new trash bag, you began to wrack your brain for what you could have done already to piss him off. Gwil pulled you from your thoughts, pulling you in for a goodbye hug and a peck on the cheek. When he pulled away, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” It was amazing how quickly Gwil learned how to read you. Or maybe you were just that bad at masking your emotions.

Your lip trembled as you tried to prevent the tears from falling.

“He’s ignoring me now,” you revealed, earning a sympathetic look from Gwil.

“I’m sorry, love,” he offered quietly. “He’ll figure his shit out eventually.” Another hug, this one a bit longer as he held you against his chest. “I’ll text you next time I’m in town, we’ll all grab lunch.” You nodded with a soft smile before pulling away, turning your attention back to your cleaning.

Another minute passed, the last of the voices faded away, and the door clicked closed, leaving a silent apartment. You let out a sigh as you tossed the last of the plates you had found in the new trash bag. Pulling another beer out of the fridge, you ventured into the living room where you found Joe pushing the coffee table back to its original position. You awkwardly leaned against the arm of the loveseat as you waited for him to say something.

But he didn’t. After finishing rearranging, he passed by you once again, not even sparing you a glance, before heading back into the kitchen. You let out another sigh, following after him.

“Okay, can you please tell me what I did so I can fix it?” you pleaded, completely at a loss. Joe silently pulled a bottle of disinfectant and a rag out from under the sink and breezed past you another time, heading back into the living room. You scoffed at his actions, your sadness being replaced with anger at his immature way of handling himself.

You placed your beer down on the counter and trudged back into the living room, stopping in front of where Joe was wiping down the coffee table and crossing your arms.

“Joe? Are you going to talk to me or continue to ignore me like a fucking child?”

He froze, dropping the bottle and the rag on the table before finally, finally looking at you for the first time in hours.

“You’ve been here for what, five minutes? And you’re already trying to fuck my friends?”

Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“You and Gwil seemed awfully cozy,” Joe replied before picking up the rag and continuing to wipe down the coffee table. You grabbed the rag from his hand, earning a sharp glare. “Hey--”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you roared, your blood boiling. “I hang out with the one fucking person I knew at my supposed ‘welcoming party’ besides you and suddenly I’m trying to fuck them?” You were shell-shocked at the accusation. Joe simply shrugged.

“The two of you were inseparable all night, what was I supposed to think?” he reasoned as he began to walk back into the kitchen. You scoffed again, tossing the rag onto the table in frustration at his nonchalant tone.

“How about the fact that you left me alone at a party full of strangers so I spent time with Gwil since you were busy with your other friends?” you fired back as you stomped into the kitchen. Joe began to wash his hands, still ignoring your piercing stare. “Like, holy shit, Joe. I know your world does not revolve around me, but the least you could do was acknowledge my existence. It’s my first night here, for fuck’s sake.”

That made him pause. He stared at the counter and you could practically hear how hard he was thinking. Suddenly, he met your gaze once again, a brazen look on his face.

“You could have come up to talk to me. I shouldn’t have to babysit you.”

His words were like a sword through your chest. Your jaw practically hit the floor this time.

“Fuck. You.” You turned on your heels and headed for the guest bedroom, angry hot tears escaping down your cheeks. You thanked your past self for barely unpacking anything before the party as you began to scoop up your toiletries and few pieces of clothing laying out on the bed and threw them back into your suitcase. 

You felt ashamed and so so stupid for thinking that this had been a good idea. And the worst feeling of all was the embarrassment at thinking that there was ever a chance of Joe reciprocating any feelings for you. You were nothing but a burden to him. Someone he felt like he would have to “babysit.” You didn’t fit in in his world and you were foolish to think you could.

“What are you doing?”

You jumped at the sound of Joe’s voice behind you; you hadn’t even heard him approach. You swiped at a stray tear and finished zipping up your bag before lugging it onto the floor and pulling up the handle.

“I’m going to check into a hotel,” you explained as you pushed your way past him, luggage dragging behind you. “I don’t feel welcome here.” You began to make your way towards the front door, already feeling overwhelmed by anxiety. You had no idea what your next move was going to be. Stay in LA and try to figure things out? Go back home to two parents who would chant “we told you so” until they were blue in the face?

Joe’s hand caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please don’t do that,” he pleaded, his tone from earlier completely gone and replaced with a much softer and more desperate one. “I’m sorry. Please stay.” You whipped around to face him.

“Which part are you sorry for?” you asked sharply. “The part where you ignored me? Or where you accused me of trying to sleep with your friend? Or maybe it’s the part where you said you shouldn’t have to ‘babysit me’?”

“All of it,” Joe replied. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. I’m just--” he trailed off as he turned away, almost bashfully. “I can’t help but feel protective of you.”

You furrowed your brows. It didn’t make sense. He felt protective of you but didn’t want to have to ‘babysit you’? He felt protective of you but he got mad at you for talking to Gwil? You stuttered as you tried to put the pieces together, coming up empty.

“I don’t…” your voice petered out. You were completely flabbergasted. “What do you want from me, Joe?”

Joe’s eyes met yours once again, and you could see the conflict written on his face. He was struggling with something. It was almost as if he--

“I want…” he began, before taking a deep breath. “I want you to stay here tonight.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. For some reason, a part of you was hopeful he would say something else. The two of you stared at each other for a few more moments, giving him the chance to say more. But it never came. So with a soft nod, you reached for your suitcase again, pulling it behind you as you walked back into the guest room, closing the door behind you.

✧✧✧

You awoke to the smell of bacon wafting into your room. You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of the bed. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself up and headed toward the bathroom.

The sight of your face in the mirror made you cringe. You hadn’t taken off your makeup before crying yourself to sleep the night before, leaving black streaks of mascara across your cheeks. You washed your face before running a comb through your hair. You knew you looked awful, but you didn’t care. Joe had seen you worse, and honestly, his opinion of you was not high on your priority list after his hissy fit last night.

You sauntered into the kitchen with a bit of hesitation, unsure what you’d be walking into. You found Joe, furiously whisking some pancake batter.

“Hey.”

He practically jumped out of his own skin, clumsily dropping the bowl of batter to the counter, luckily with little to no mess.

“Hey,” he replied, running a hand over the back of his neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Alright,” you lied. You had agonized over every detail of the evening until practically three in the morning. But you didn’t want Joe to know that. If he knew, he didn’t let on, instead offering you a small smile.

“I made bacon and I’m about to make pancakes,” he stated, gesturing towards the stove behind him. You nodded simply and took a seat at his kitchen island.

Things were awkward. You didn’t even know where to begin. Part of you wanted to tell him to forget everything and start fresh. It would make things easier. But part of you wanted to stand strong, make sure you held him accountable for how he’d hurt you.

You mulled over everything, idly chewing on a piece of bacon as Joe worked at the stove, mumbling under his breath about the pancakes cooking inconsistently or something. After a few minutes, you were pulled from your thoughts by a plate of pancakes being placed in front of you. You glanced up to see Joe eyeing you, an uncertain look on his face.

“I’m a huge asshole,” he admitted. You opened your mouth to agree with him but he kept going. “You were right. I was avoiding you during the party. It was easier for me to convince myself that you were having a good time than to check up on you myself. I thought I…” he trailed off, losing momentum. He shook his head and began again. “I assured myself that I could handle being around you again. That enough time had passed and I could be your best friend again without a second thought. But then you walked through my front door and it all came rushing back and I panicked.”  You shook your head, trying to keep up with what Joe was trying to tell you.

“I don’t understand--”

“I’m in love with you.”

For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, your jaw dropped.

“I honestly think I’ve been in love with you since high school, but it took me well into my late twenties for me to actually realize it. And I got so caught up on this fantasy of you and I being this acting dream team, showing this fucking town who’s boss, together. And then you were here and you had spent the last week road-tripping across the country yet somehow you looked so fucking beautiful? And I just...couldn’t handle it. I invited practically everyone in my contacts to come over right away because I needed a buffer. I turned my focus to everyone else at the party because it was familiar and certain. With you there was so much uncertainty.”

He paused for a moment and collected his thoughts once again.

“And then I saw you with Gwil. I knew it wasn’t anything. But you were smiling and laughing with him and I just couldn’t help but wish you were spending your time with me. I know that doesn’t make sense. But I just got so caught up in my own head so when you finally confronted me, I panicked again. I threw everything back at you because I was afraid and embarrassed.”

You watched him as he plopped down on the stool next to you with a sigh.

“I wish I could do it all over again. There wouldn’t be a party. Just you and me like it used to be,” he continued. He turned to you, eyes sad with regret. “I am so so so sorry. You were right about everything. Except one thing. My world does revolve around you. The day you told me you were coming out here was the happiest day I’ve had in awhile. I’ve thought about nothing else since. But I completely understand if you want to leave. Hell, I’ll pay for your hotel and help you figure out what you want to do. But I also understand if you want me to just leave you alone.”

To say you were stunned would be an understatement. Your heart was pounding out of your chest at Joe’s confession. You didn’t even know what to say. There was so much that needed to be said, but you were frozen in place.

So you didn’t speak. You just moved.

You gripped the sides of Joe’s head and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. He let out a small noise in surprise, but quickly melted into the kiss, his own hands reaching for you and landing on your hips. You kissed him hard, pouring every emotion you felt into it. Every past pang of your heart when Joe had gone out of his way to do something for you. Every past flutter of your stomach when he had wrapped his arms around you. Every ounce of frustration and hurt that flooded your heart last night. He kissed you back just as eagerly, pulling you off the stool and closer to him, your chests pressing together.

You finally pulled away to gasp for breath, your forehead still pressed against Joe’s.

“I love you too, you asshole,” you breathed out, earning a chuckle from Joe. He pulled back to look at you, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You think I’d uproot my entire life and move across the country if I wasn’t completely in love with you?”

Joe’s face lit up before he dove in for another kiss.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asked, running his hands up and down your sides. You pursed your lips as you thought it over.

“I’ll only forgive you if you help me finish unpacking,” you reasoned, a smirk playing at your lips. Joe beamed, pulling you closer to him so you were practically in his lap.

“So you’re gonna stay?”

“Of course I’m staying. Why stay in a hotel when I can stay with my former best friend?” Joe’s brows furrowed.

“Former?”

“I guess I just figured ‘love of my life’ was a better title for you,” you revealed with a smile, running your fingers through his auburn locks. Joe pulled you in for another searing kiss, standing up and pressing you against the island, earning a squeal from you. After a moment, he pulled away, grabbing your hand and practically running down the hall towards the guest room, pancakes long forgotten.

✧✧✧

Permanent Taglist (crossed out names won’t let me tag): @queenlover05​, @mrhoemazzello​, @madamsledge​, @sadhwstudent​, @johndeaconshands​, @puffnstuff08

[kamilah-is-queen]

Great ! but i have to warn you it’s gonna be a LONG one as i have written all the ideas but i can’t write the scenario without it being VERY cheesy. plus I’d appreciate it if you didn’t include smut in my request which i’ll post after this one but maybe just some fluff and “indicators” of following smut but not actually writing any 😂 (ps. you don’t have to reply to this ask neither the following ask in which i’ll put the whole fic idea)

I was informed that @rocketscientist07 had written a similar piece on AO3, so just to clarify I don’t mean to copy their work and ideas. Credit for this idea goes to the anon that requested this. The beginning of the story is changed slightly from the end scene from Bloodbound, due to an easier plot style.

Link to The Darker Side

Tagging: @wisebananapatrol, @kamilahtopme, @vonda-b-real, @iamsimpforpoppy, @millasayeed, @clan-sayeed-fic, @queenkamilah



Rheya outstretched a blood soaked hand towards the Bloodkeeper, an evil smirk rising to her face. “Come with me, Amy. Learn what true power feels like..” A glow of orange light blossoming out of her hand as she guided it towards the Bloodkeeper. “..These puny creatures living in my shadow can’t give you the power, the strength, the potential to rule the world and have you as it’s Queen Amy.”

The young vampire in an attempt to satisfy her curiosity, reached her fingers towards the bright glow from Rheya’s hand. A bolt of energy burst through her body, the pain replaced by strength, her insecurities replaced with a new found confidence.

She lifted off the stage, the same beam of light emitting from her eyes as Rheya’s voice echoed inside the Bloodkeeper’s head. “These mortals don’t deserve to live Amy,” she said, gesturing to the dumbfounded group of humans in their seats, “kill every last one of them.” The First commanded.

Amy closed her eyes as the power grew, Jax, Lily and Adrian watched in horror before Kamilah sprang to the place beneath Amy. “Amy, wait!” The youngest vampire bowed her head to meet Kamilah’s eyes, her voice deeper than a crack of thunder. “It’s too late, Kamilah.

The Egyptian didn’t attempt to stop the tears that slid from her eyes, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces all over again. “No, Amy no, it isn’t too late. You can fight this, I know you can, my love.” Her voice cracked, fear and anxiousness rising in her voice.

“You're stronger than anyone I’ve ever known, even stronger than I thought...than I thought you could’ve been Amy. We’ve been through so much, all of us,  don’t give up now..”

“We defeated Gauis together, traveled to Japan and worked with the Five. Crashed down on that island where Demetrieus’s tree was living. If you weren’t strong or powerful, none of us would be here today Amy. None of us.”

Amy watched intently, before turning her head away. “I’m not who you think I am, not anymore.” She raised her hands toward the sky and closed her fists, the mortal crowd screaming in agony before one by one, the blood pooled out of their bodies and towards Amy.

The tears fell furiously as Kamilah sunk to her knees, sobbing into her hands. “My my, what a pity.” Rheya cackled into the night sky, extending her hand to Amy once more. With a final look towards her friends, towards everything she ever knew, she met Kamilah’s gaze.

Amy saw fear. She saw the memories of them flash through Kamilah’s eyes. Memories of them sharing the warmest of cuddles and the softest of kisses. Memories of the two laughing into the night sky, and some of when the night was more passionate like in the Cabin. The moment when Kamilah confessed her love as Amy slipped away from the world, all of them meaning nothing in that split second.

Amy relived the moments where she broke down Kamilah’s steel walls, especially the walls of her heart. She had to make a decision. Would she stay with Kamilah and enjoy the safety and security of the Egyptian? Or, would she choose Rheya and her promise of power and control over the world. To rule as a true queen, with no boundaries to constrict here.

The voice in Amy’s head screamed at her to choose Kamilah, but if she did, one of her friends wouldn’t make it. She knew that one of them wouldn’t, and she couldn’t risk it. After everything she’d been through, they were family. And it was wrong to turn your back on family, but it was for the greater good. Only, the gang didn’t see it as that.

“I’m sorry..” Amy’s voice barely a whisper, before she took Rheya’s hand and they disappeared into the night sky.

“No! No, no, no, no!” Kamilah slammed her fist into the stage of the opera house, her vision blurred with the tears streaming down her cheeks. She punched the stage again, and again, and again until her hands were completely soaked in blood and the skin on her knuckles ripped as Adrian attempted to calm her.

He wrapped his arms around her, a strong grip holding Kamilah in place as she shrieked with the heartache. Kamilah eventually tired out, the events of the past few weeks catching up to her. The plane crash with Gauis, the trip to Japan, all the moments with Amy, they all came crashing and burning in her heart.

“It’s okay Kamilah, she’s made her decision. It’s okay, we’ll find a way to get her back.” He slowly rocked the older vampire in his arms, his heartbeat a comforting rhythm as Kamilah relaxed.

“What if she doesn’t..want to come back Adrian?” Kamilah’s voice thick with grief, feeling a sense of instability for the first time in her life. Adrian took a deep breath, steeling himself, “I promise, she will. She can’t leave you, leave us like this without reason sister. Love will bring her back to you”

“She betrayed us.” With enough agony for the day, Kamilah passed out into Adrain’s arms. Her heart weighing in her chest like an anvil, an anvil broken into thousands of heavy little pieces.

5 years later…

The roaring noise of the thunder and lightning filled the night sky as Amy walked through the streets of Japan. She gripped the fabric of her clothes, the material drenched in the rain but that didn’t stop her from continuing forward.

The lasting words of her previous conversation rang through Amy’s head…

“Demetrius, if we wish to obtain the type of power we seek, then we mustn’t stand idle. What are we waiting for? One move and the superpowers of the world will be beneath us, begging for mercy.”

Rheya clenched her fist and raised it to the sky, her eyes glimmering with hope yet dark with longing. The four were placed at the dinner table, Rheya at the head and Demetrius, Lola, Gauis and Amy positioned nearby.

When Amy had agreed to join Rheya in her hungry quest for power, she had also unknowingly agreed to be an anchor to the other side. With a lack of support, Rheya brought both Lola and Demetrius back to life. Not only for emotional support, but for advice in their conquest.

Unfortunately, this only worsened Amy’s condition. As if being away from anyone she’s ever known was difficult enough, the burden of being the link between the living and the dead was also placed upon her shoulders.

As Amy listened on to the conversation, rage filled in her chest. All the innocent lives of mortals to be lost, at the cost of one of her friends was unbearable to think about. The anger consumed her, filling her body and she didn’t attempt to cease it.

“While you may be right, Rheya...we’re still lacking the resources to pull something like this off. I think we should wait, hold off as long as possible and strike when least expected.” Amy stood from the table, excusing herself as she prayed her tactics had worked.

“Amy wait…” Gauis stood and immediately rushed after her. “I know something’s off, you’ve never acted like this before.” He gently cupped Amy’s face with a hand, Amy leaning into the touch before pulling away slowly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” She replied with a small smile.

Gauis had been there through it all. From the very first night she spent with the First and her crew up until that point. In some ways, they had grown close. When Amy needed security and a sense of tranquility, Gauis was the first to be at her side. Through all his hardened and almost non existent emotions, he felt sorry for the girl. She was a mere child, thrown into a whirlpool of danger and excitement and he felt it was his place to keep her safe.

They’d spent many nights together, Gauis not knowing whether Amy truly felt for him the way he did for her, or if it was an escape to a land of peace and calm.

With a small sigh, Gauis pulled his hand back. “Perhaps a stroll will clear your mind. Allow me to join you, my Queen?”

“I think it’ll be best if I took this one alone.” Amy encouragingly squeezing his hand before strolling out through the castle’s gates.

Now, as she walked aimlessly through the brightly lit streets, there was only one person on her mind...Kamilah. She’d overheard conversations about the gang relocating to Japan, to strengthen their base and form a stronger alliance with the Five. Of course that was Rheya’s first plan, to wipe them out but with quick thinking, Amy was able to hold her off.

But it wouldn’t last for long, and that’s why Amy was going to take Rheya, Demetrius and Lola out. But only with the help of her family.

Amy strode in through the doors of the famous club, the club where Amy had first seen Aiko. As she looked around, the familiar faces brought a warm sensation to heart. They were safe, her family was alive.

Small murmurs pulled Amy out of her thoughts, her gaze falling to each and every person in the room. Adrian was seated on a bar stool beside Lily, the pair speaking in hushed whispers as they gazed at Amy. Jax was sipping a glass of whiskey, Akeyo, Henry, Kano and The Evolved beside him.

Then, there was Kamilah. Seated comfortably in one of the cream sofas, Aiko nestled on her lap with a glass of wine in hand.

Amy felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes threatening to give way to tears as she looked on. Kamilah hadn’t noticed Amy’s presence for she was too indulged in covering Aiko in gentle kisses. Kisses that only Amy was allowed to have, touches that Kamilah swore would only be placed upon Amy, now onto a new partner.

“Hello love, did you miss me?” Amy said with a smug smirk across her face, her gaze directed at Kamilah. The vampires looked up from their previous conversation, Kamilah’s eyes widening in disbelief. “I know I’m the last person you want to be speaking to, but I don’t care. I need your help and you guys are family, I know you wouldn’t give up on me.” She said, her head bowed slightly.

When Amy lifted her head, Kamilah was standing before her. The Egyptian’s features hadn’t differed from their usual breathtaking appearance. Her eyes never wavering from Amy’s as the two fell into a trance.

“It’s you...it’s really you Amy.” Kamilah hesitantly took a step forward before her arm was snatched back by Aiko.

“Why would we help you, traitor?” Aiko practically spitting out the words with a scowl across her face. Amy took in the remarks before replying, “I don’t think a useless mutt like you could have the brain capacity to help anyways.” She said while checking her fingernails.

Kamilah held Aiko back as the vampire lunged towards Amy, “You little bitch I swear I’ll get you one day!”

“Enough Aiko!” Kamilah’s eyes flashed a threatening maroon colour, forcing Aiko to back down and regain her composure.

“Fine, but this rotten piece of shit…” Aiko whispered harshly with her finger pointed at Amy’s face, “should’ve never shown her face here.”

As the Five assisted in dragging Aiko away, Kamilah refocused her attention back on Amy. “Let’s talk somewhere more private, shall we?” Lily led the four towards the back room, everyone standing at a distance from each other as an awkward silence filled the room.

Adrian was the first to speak as he set his glass down on the table…”Amy, you know we’d never turn our back on you but you have to understand, what you did 5 years ago isn’t something to be taken lightly.” His face was oddly calm and nonchalant, something that didn’t happen often with the CEO.

“You...you betrayed us…” Lily bowed her head as her voice cracked. Tears filled the vampire’s eyes as they slid down her cheeks.

“No, that’s what I’m trying to say. All this time, I’ve been with Rheya for the gang’s protection. It seems crazy, and twisted but..it’s not I swear.” Amy’s eyes pleaded innocently as she looked around the room.

“Everything you’ve ever known, all the memories you had and every single moment of tranquility, safety and warmth was left behind the second you agreed to join her Amy.” Kamilah spoke through gritted teeth. She swirled the wine in her glass, staring at the deep red liquid sloshing from side to side.

“Kamilah…” Amy felt the coldness in her heart melt away the moment she saw the pained expression on her lovers face. Kamilah’s deep, brown eyes glossed over as their memories washed over her, clear signs of pain reaking from the older CEO.

With a flick of her gaze, Kamilah stood and turned her attention to Amy. “If you’ll excuse us.” Jax, Adrian and Lily bowed their heads respectfully, leaving the two alone in silence.

“You’re not the same Amy I knew, not the Amy I fell in love with those years ago.” Kamilah took Amy’s hands into her own, holding them gently. “But, I can’t see you in this state. Not when Rheya’s controlling you like this, no. I’ll do everything in my power to help you Amy, whether you want me to or not.”

Kamilah searched Amy’s eyes looking for something, anything. Amy simply stood frozen like a statue, her gaze flicking between her lover’s deep brown orbs. With a sigh, the CEO withdrew her hands and tucked them away in her pockets. “The truth is...I still love you. All this time, I’ve still loved you. And perhaps you don’t feel the same Amy but, I’m willing to wait for you. Be it years, or centuries...I’ll always be there to support you.”

And with that, Kamilah left without another word leaving Amy to her thoughts.

“I don’t see why you have to help her.” Aiko speaking through a tense jaw, her arms folded as she paced around their bedroom. “Because she was once mine, Aiko. I can’t sit by and watch her deteriorate like this.” Kamilah said as she gazed through the window up at the bright moon in the sky.

Aiko huffed, gripping Kamilah’s collar as her gaze fell to the CEO’s lips. “I think I need to remind you of who you’re with now, no?” Her voice dropped an octave, Aiko’s tongue licking a path across Kamilah’s lower lip.

“No, not tonight Aiko.” Kamilah gently, but firmly pushed Aiko off with a sigh. “You still love her, don’t you?” Aiko’s eyes flashed with hurt as Kamilah nodded quietly.

“How could I not love her? I know that we were together before but...this can’t go on. Not anymore.” Kamilah offered a small smile, kissing Aiko’s knuckles ever so softly.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” Aiko scoffed before storming out of the room, mumbling curses under her breath. “I’ll get that little weasel, she’s gone.” Aiko harshly whispered before rushing out of the club.

Four weeks later….

Amy, Jax, Adrian and Kamilah all gathered round in the club, a stage brightly lit in the front with a microphone on a stand.

Amy jumped up the stage, excitedly gripping the mic and tapping the tip. “Testing, testing.” Her voice rang through the room, the other three gazing up at the woman on stage.

Without warning, music started blaring through the speakers, the floor pounding with the bass. Amy gripped the mic tighter and closed her eyes. A smooth, deep voice rang through the speakers and set the gang into a trance.

“What a badass.” Lily chuckled as she sipped the beer in her hand.

“You’re saying that to a woman whose come from a small town in Massachusetts, making it big in NYC and successfully taking down the biggest threat the shadow world has ever faced. I’d say that’s quite badass.” Kamilah smirked behind her glass, watching Amy with rapt attention.

Adrian laughed and fixed the liquor behind it’s replacing place on the shelf, “Nothing less than remarkable, if you ask me. She’s made such a big difference to so many people. To us, especially.”

They all nodded in agreement before Jax spoke up. “She’s sacrificed everything for us. Love, her family, her friends...let alone the only humanity inside her. All because that psycho Rheya can’t give up her lust for power.”

Just as Amy had started the song, she closed it on a high note as the bass from the speakers started to cease. She opened her eyes to see the gang gazing intensely at her, studying her as if she was a display in a museum.

“Well, this has been fun but...I’m ready to hit the hay.” Lily yawned and outstretched her arms, Jax laughing and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Right behind ya.”

With Adrian and Kamilah not far on their heels, Amy felt her voice rising from her throat again. She had nothing on her mind but the lyrics spinning through her head, Kamilah the source behind them.

“My head's under water, but I'm breathing fine.

You're crazy and I'm out of my mind…”

Kamilah lingered at the threshold of the door, her ears peeking up as she listened to Amy’s strong voice.

“Cause all of me,

Loves all of you,

Love your curves and all your edges,

All your perfect imperfections.”

Amy poured her heart out into the words as her chest pounded with desire and longing for her lover and partner. She imagined Kamilah standing before her, her graceful smile and endless chestnut eyes staring right back into hers.

Kamilah flicked her gaze back to Amy once before walking away, a small smile spreading across her face as she hummed the lyrics. “Perhaps, she does still love me…” She whispered to herself quietly.

A few days later, Amy found herself in the terrace pool, her arms leaning back on the glass as she gazed at Kamilah in front of her. Those deep eyes gazed right through Amy, Amy so lost in them that she didn’t realize when Kamilah had gotten closer.

Kamilah’s breath tickled her neck, before the CEO lifted her head, purposely brushing her lips to Amy’s. “Will...you allow me to kiss you, Amy?” A hopeful look shone in her eyes, the same way the moonlight reflected off the pool and into her orbs.

Amy didn’t bother to respond, because she cupped Kamilah’s face...kissing her with every ounce of longing inside her body. Their lips crashed, Kamilah’s hands exploring Amy’s body as their tongues swirled around one another’s. They found a familiar rhythm, the moment feeling as if it was meant to be.

Not long after, Kamilah lifted the younger vampire out of the pool, wrapping Amy’s legs around her hips before she carried them inside for a well needed night full of passion, and desire.

—————————————-—

“It’s time.” Amy strapped her weapons to her hips before looking around at the rest of the group. “We either destroy Rheya and her crew now, or we live forever under her reign.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, finalizing the last of their plans and securing their weapons. Kamilah took Amy’s hands, resting her forehead to her own. “No matter what happens, I love you Amy.”

They both knew what happened last time those words were spoken, when everyone mourned Amy after her ‘death’. “I love you too Kamilah, I’ll always love you.” With a soft smile, Amy pecked Kamilah’s lips and turned to lead the way to Rheya’s mansion.

“Amy, you’ve retur-“ Rheya was thrown back against the wall, the plaster beneath her breaking and crumbling. Rheya cackled into the night before lifting herself into the air.

“Do you really think you and your pathetic crew can defeat me? The First?” As if on command, Gauis led a small army of ferals towards the four. “They’re not just my crew, they’re my family!” Amy lunged for Rheya, honing her senses and channeling her energy into the First’s mind.

Kamilah was one of the first to spring into action, instinctively toward Gaius. Their daggers clashed together, their faces inches apart as Kamilah wore a harsh frown, whereas Gaius had a smirk. “So we meet again, my Queen.” The sound of metal on metal filled the room as the battle continued, before Kamilah swept out his feet from underneath him. “I’m not your Queen, Gaius.” Her daggers hovered over his throat, “But, I will be the death of you.” Without hesitation, she slashed her daggers across his neck, beheading him instantly.

After that, the battle seemed to cease except for Amy and Rheya. “You took everything from me! My friends, my emotions, my humanity!”

Amy plunged her hand deep into Rheya’s chest, Rheya gasping through unable to move because of Amy’s control. She yanked the beating heart out of the vampires chest, blood dripping down her wrist. “And now I’ll take everything from you.”

Rheya lay lifeless, before crumbling to ash the same way Gaius had. Ferals ash covered the floors of the manor as the group reeled back from the attacks.

“Amy, you're alright…” The younger vampire collided with Kamilah, latching on for dear life. Kamilah tightened her hold and exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“I love you Kamilah…”

“I love you too, My Queen.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The Bad Guy, pt. 3 - Haunted (Gang AU)

Summary: Grayson’s attempt to pull out of his gang related business seems futile as his past comes back to haunt him. Deciding to keep it a secret only brings more issues as it creates a distance between him and Y/N he can’t bridge.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT, injuries, blood, death, swearing...

Word count: 18.5k

The Bad Guy - Series Masterlist

Frowning, my eyes struggle to adjust to the light basking my skin, squinting to try and get a better view of the perpetrator although I know it's him.

If anything was certain about Grayson Dolan it was his love for sunrise and while I'm far from a morning person, waking up to watch his mesmerized gaze has become the epitome of a full life.

Quietly, afraid to startle him and ruin my favorite view, I stand up too, fighting the lightheaded feeling swaying me from side to side, nearly blinding me for a moment or two.

And I stand there, silently watching this beautiful, handsome specimen I still can't believe is mine. I watch him with fervor, with a fire unequaled to any volcano. And I admire him - every muscle, every scar, every mark life had left on his body.

He could have any woman he lays his eye on and yet he chose me? Sometimes I think it's a dream, a cosmic joke to give me everything I ever wanted before ripping it away once reality sets in, but it's not. He's here and he is mine and even after countless, nearly lethal obstacles, I can't fathom regretting being a part of his world.

Meeting Grayson Dolan has been the highlight of my life and I count my lucky stars every day as I thank the universe for giving me a chance to not only love a man as magnificent as him, but also be loved by him.

To be loved by Grayson Dolan is a powerful thing, a force of nature that is all consuming. It's a blessing and he might not agree with me on this, but if I had a chance to do it all again? I'd choose him over and over until I am nothing but ash and dust.

Perhaps we aren't the luckiest lovers in the world, but we're far from Romeo and Juliet. They had tragedy sown in their souls, but we have the space to make our own destiny and I am determined to make it a happy one.

Stalking toward him on my tiptoes, I smile when I'm almost behind him, my arms instinctively reaching for his waist and I sense his gentle gasp as my hands glide under his arms and over his stomach. I lay my head to rest between his shoulder blades, listening to the soft breathing reminding me how lucky I am to be alive - how lucky I am he's alive.

His arms reach back and his hands rest awkwardly on my back, and I know he's smiling. He's appreciating the beauty before him as much as the tenderness of my love for him.

If Grayson knows one thing for sure it's how my love for him will always trump my love for sleep and I'm not sure he will ever truly get used to that.

We remain silent, enjoying each other's company and sweetness of another morning we get to spend together, all until the alarm clock screeches and we both jump at the loudness.

Turning around, his hands move to my hips and while I've always felt insecure about the fat he'd actually rest his hands on instead of my bones, Grayson simply gave me a reassuring squeeze, almost as if he could tell I'm once again struggling with my appearance and the latest weight gain I couldn't explain certainly didn't help my body dysmorphia.

"All my favorite days started and ended with you." His raspy voice brings chills, awakens my heart and I've always said he's better than caffeine in the morning.

"Cheesy." I remark, almost teasing him with a raised eyebrow and a swift, playful wink. "You're lucky I'm into cheesy romance."

Rolling his eyes at me with the slightest inkling of a smirk upon his plump lips, Grayson is quick to pull me closer, making me squeal and not in the attractive ways girls do it in movies, rather a pig like way.

Our noses collide before our lips firmly press together, finding our normal rhythm easily. Hands roaming his chest, fingers playing with his chest hair, I can feel my mind turn numb to our surroundings, the rest fading away. Grayson always had that effect, making me forget about the world and he didn't have to try, even one look was enough.

"Y/N." He whispers my name in between kisses spelled with our lips, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip, nibbling on the soft skin until an exasperated groan leaves him and I know his morning wood has begun to bug him and our kisses certainly didn't make it any easier on him.

"I can help with that." Coy, I inch away, breathing heavily. He's smilingly shaking his head and I can't help the disappointment on my face for I know what he's going to say.

"I want to, TRUST ME, but I have an early meeting." Apologetic as ever, Grayson steps back as if distance would somehow stop some sort of an imaginary spell I've cast on him. But this has become a rather common occurrence. It's why I wake up so early, hoping to steal a few peaceful moments in his arms before he leaves for work and more often than not, he's not back until late.

I'm not better with my intern year exhausting me all the time either, but I miss him ALL THE TIME and he seems to lack the same emotion. Sometimes I wonder if he misses me too or if his job, as legal as it’s supposed to be, is still his number one priority. He changed his tune on the matter, but his actions are faltering that belief in my heart.

I want to believe in him – in us, but love is a flower that needs to be watered and lately, there’s been a draught. And we are still intimate…a lot, but we lack the kind of quality time we spent together back when we had the world against us.

Sometimes, as selfish as it may be, I wonder if having my life threatened is the only way to have his undivided attention.

"Sure. I should get ready too." Biting my lip, I thread my fingers through my hair and sigh, avoiding his eyes to hide my dejection. It's not easy realizing we're officially becoming like any other couple where we don't seem to prioritize each other and if I'm being honest, it's killing me.

Grayson is the one to break the silence first. "Doll, have you seen my shirt?"

"Pretty sure I ripped it off you last night. Might want to grab that hoodie instead, because I'd rather not have you flaunting those flawless abs in public." I smirk, stopping once my eyes catch the horror in his.

"You. Want. Me. To. Wear. A. Hoodie? I can't be seen in a hoodie!" Grayson's words only make me chuckle, reminding me that behind his bad boy facade truly is a drama queen with a notable fashion sense. It makes me feel normal, and maybe being normal isn't always a bad thing. Maybe I’m just addicted to thrill of danger we were stuck in for so long I’ve forgotten that we’ve finally found serenity – a reality that should be more comfortable for me.

"Yes?" It was more of a question than a statement, paired with an amused look in my eyes and once my teeth sunk in the left corner of my bottom lip, Grayson's heart skipped a beat.

"The only reason I own a hoodie is because I bought it so you, my girlfriend, could steal it and we'd have some sense of normalcy as a couple. You know? No bloodshed, no tortured souls or kidnapping, just the old run of the mill girlfriend stealing her boyfriend's hoodie." Grayson justified, only making me giggle.

"And it worked, so now you can do what every boyfriend does and steal it back while giving me a glare for stealing it in the first place only to kiss me and tell me I look better in it than you anyway." I retort, enjoying his casually entertaining sauntering toward me, both his eyebrows raised.

"Well, it isn't even mine anymore, it's ours." He rolls his eyes with a cheeky smile, making my heart melt. This is how it’s supposed to be when two people love each other - easy as breathing. This, right now, just him and I and no obligations tearing us apart – this is how it should be.

Grabbing the hoodie, he shakes it before me, granting me a teasing glare. "I'm not gonna wear it but stealing isn't nice. Even if it does look better on you." Reenacting my little speech, Grayson pecks my lips before continuing his morning ritual and I draw a deep breath, shuddering at the thought of losing him.

I didn't come home that night, forced to pull a double shift at the hospital yet my phone didn't ring.  Most nights, Grayson would call and check up on me even though I know it’s mostly to hear my voice – he explained it was soothing, a comfort he never takes for granted.

Sighing, I lock the screen and chase a few peas across the plastic plate, wondering what Grayson is doing, if he is hungry or tired, if he's wishing he could be next to me as much as I am. I’ve almost never been to his company, my hours at the hospital too long and Grayson always volunteers to come for lunch a few days a week anyway. He hadn’t been around for two weeks now.

Perhaps I've become codependent, maybe he coddles me way too much, but something is different and I'm hoping it's about our jobs and not about his feelings shifting, a familiar fear creeping in - he wasn't the type to stay with one girl for long, so what if my time is up?

Could I ever say goodbye to Grayson?

Shaking my head, I remind myself how important communication is and how I fucked up the last time I allowed out relationship go down a rabbit hole - maybe there's an explanation for this too?

Chewing on the inside of my lower lip, I roll my eyes and set aside my pride like he has done for me so many times before. Dialing his number is easy, but the wait for him to pick up is what makes my eyes water.

Grayson always picks up before the third ring, I'm on the eighth now.

And when he does pick up, I realize it's not him.

"Sorry hon, he's busy with me."

Eyes wide, breath caught in my throat, I try to speak but the line is dead before I muster enough bravery to move my lips.

Slapping a hand over my mouth trying to hold back a sob, I realize how unnecessary that action is as my throat closes with emotions shaking my entire being.

There has to be some explanation for this. I should have some faith in him after everything we've been through, right?

Fear, hate, anger, anxiety, love, sadness, an insurmountable amount of emotions and thoughts overwhelm me, dragging me through the past and every time I was told I simply wasn’t enough – pretty enough, smart enough, ambitious enough, creative enough, sexy enough – all of the times I was reminded over and over again that no one would love me, especially not someone as grand as Grayson who can certainly replace me in a moment’s time and I’d be left on the outside looking in, seeing his many girls on the front pages of every tabloid which would slowly kill me.

I want to wash my brain in cold water, cool the whole thing but I can't. I want a coffee but the caffeine will put me over the edge.

Regardless, I find myself dialing Ethan's number, seeking advice. If anyone would be honest with me, Ethan Grant surely would even if Grayson is his brother.

Does the truth imprison us, or does it set us free?

One thing I know for sure, the truth can hurt. Especially when the truth bears what can break a heart in half.

But I have to know.

3rd person POV

"Who was that?" Grayson frowns as he sees his assistant put down his phone, wondering why would she answer his personal cellphone when it isn't in her job description.

"Wrong number." Smirking slyly, she revels in the world of pain she was certain she caused to the woman on the other side of the line, enjoying it as much as she's enjoying the way Grayson pulled his sleeves up, accentuating his biceps.

Licking her lips, she watches as he sits in his chair, exhaustion in every line of his face and she can't imagine a better moment to make a move she had been planning for a few months now. Sliding over to him, she wasted no time in moving her ass onto his lap, her lips hungrily covering his.

"Bro!" Ethan busts inside, worked up after hearing from a clearly upset Y/N, willing to reassure her it's only a misunderstanding but when he sees a woman in his brother's lap and her mouth on his, one of the women he remembers from Grayson's past? That's when Ethan loses it.

Grayson is quick to push her off and on the floor mercilessly, growling as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, but Ethan has no patience, slamming the door behind him with enough strength that it breaks the tinted glass, shattering it all the way to the woman's floored ass.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Ethan screamed, not even flinching when he feels a piece of glass graze his left forearm, the cut superficial. He’s red in the face, his eyes narrowed and if looks could kill, Grayson and the pathetic excuse for a woman would need CPR.

Gripping the woman by her shoulders, Grayson sets her back on her feet, the pressure of his hands on her enough to leave a mark. Shaking her like a doll, he gets in her face, spraying spit as he makes his intentions clear.

"I am a taken man and if you ever, EVER, try that again, I will have no mercy. Understand that?" Shaking her again until she managed to mumble a clear YES, Grayson pushed her toward the door.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!" Grayson screams in outrage, his eyes set aflame with ruthless self-loathing shimmering under the surface. His rage had always made men cower in fear, but never Ethan.

He wasn’t calm either, willing to spill blood for every tear Y/N shed and while he could easily start an altercation, Ethan realized violence begins violence and he can’t turn on his own blood. Not while they’re still so vulnerable to the criminals that want them both dead.

Apparently, no one is happy to let a gang disband without bloodshed and they’ve both been working overtime to make sure that doesn’t turn into a new gang war where their loved ones would be at risk. To be honest, Grayson has been overbearing and Ethan was wearing thin, but they have to find a solution before they end up burying their mother or sister, Y/N or even each other.

"Y/N called me in tears asking if you're cheating on her and I promised you'd never do that. Was I wrong brother?" Asking calmly, Ethan surprised himself with his poise. If he could, he'd at the very least land a few punches, damage the pretty boy look Grayson attracts attention with, but he realized Y/N might not want that.

Even if he transgressed, she’d want Grayson unharmed. She’s that kind of a soul – innocent, naïve and untouched by the madness surrounding her. And she hasn’t been quite the same since the ball but Ethan noticed her getting back to who she was when they first met her at that shady club.

She is his sister now and he can’t stand the thought of what pain this might cause her.

"No. She kissed me and I ended it as soon as I could. Y/N doesn't have to know." Grayson decides, his head a chaotic explosion of fear, anger and frustration - fear of losing the only woman he ever loved, anger over the way he was completely unaware of the situation and frustration because he's clearly not as scary as he used to be and damn it, Grayson absolutely loved instilling fear in people around him. It made him feel powerful and invincible, something he gave up for a quiet future with the love of his life...something he still missed.

"I won't lie to her." Ethan says through gritted teeth, shaking his head as his fingers thread through his hair. "She deserves better Grayson." Sighing, Ethan swallows thickly. "Do better."

And while Ethan said he wouldn't lie, he called Y/N back, faking amusement.

"No worries, sis, his assistant picked up the phone and they've been working like crazy today." Pausing, he pinches the bridge of his nose as if that would wash away the shame of lies he speaks, but what good would it do to hurt her with the truth?

He is a reasonable man and bringing this up would break her heart, besides, Grayson said it's a one-time unwanted occurrence and he wanted to believe him. He needed to.

"Are you alright, babe?" He feels a familiar pair of arms slide down his chest, holding onto the hands firmly.

"Yeah. Just my brother. Same old shit." Studying her, Ethan can't help but smile at the woman Y/N hired for him just a few months ago - at first to help him after he got shot and now to help him around the office...a woman he had taken a liking to.

"Anything I can do to help?" She smirks, pecking his nose from above, implying exactly what she wanted and Ethan wasn't about to protest.

"I can think of a few things."

1st person POV

The weight finally off my chest, I smile to myself. Of course Grayson isn't cheating on me. He loves me. He does no matter how hard I found that hard to believe before.

Perhaps it's time I trust him on that.

Barely able to stand, only a few hours of sleep in a thirty-something long shift keeping me alive, I stumble into the penthouse, kicking off my sneakers immediately.

I've been tired lately, feeling queasy and faint but it's probably the long hours and worsening eating habits. I should definitely drink more water too, but admitting this to Grayson would end up with him asking me to take some time off and take care of my health but that’s not an option. I need to finish this internship so I can get a first-rate fellowship. I may be stuck in a crazy environment, but I have every intention on finishing my journey.

Groaning, I manage to find my way to our bedroom and I wonder why was I ever so stubborn about living together. I didn't want to be seen as gold digger or an opportunist, I wanted to earn my own money but after we got cornered with paparazzi in my dorm more than once, the choice was obvious. Thankfully, I graduated just in time to start an internship not too far away from his luxury penthouse, reducing the commute.

Besides, waking up next to him is better than being alone.

The moment I enter, I see something is different - a dress laid out on our bed, rose petals around as well as a bouquet on my nightstand.

Reaching for the note, I sigh, aware Grayson planned a romantic date and while I'd rather sleep and have him rub my back, I remember relationships last only if both parties contribute to its growth and for a few months, neither of us did our part.

I can't be the one to say no.

'An exquisite dress for an exquisite woman. Put this on, doll and meet me up on the roof'

Smiling, I shake my head lightly, feeling my heart skip in my chest because even if I am about to faint, the gesture is incredibly sweet. The dress is even better - the one I had my eye on but refused to even try - red as blood, back open and lacy sleeves down to my elbows.

Managing to push my swollen feet into heels a size too big for me even now, I force my legs to take the few stairs toward the roof, a smile upon my weary lips. The wind pushes my unkempt hair back, revealing a faint scratch just below my ear that I earned in the ER.

"You look magnificent. As expected." Grayson's compliment makes me look away, smiling at the ground. It's impossible not to blush when a man of his caliber tells you how amazing he believes you look.

Pecking my lips, Grayson's finger lifts my chin, gracing me with one of his disarmingly charming looks.

"Don't go all shy on me now." His smirk is devilishly handsome and now I understood how the devil cheats humans out of their souls. It's not hard to fall for a smile like that.

"I missed you." Smiling back at him, I allow him to lead me to the table he set for us, devouring the food with my eyes already.

"And I love you for this food. I'm starving!"

3rd person POV

As soon as dinner ended and the conversation became rather nostalgic, Y/N couldn't help her smile as Grayson dedicated himself to her. It’s exactly what she’d been craving, worried that their romance might be wavering after the time they had to each other.

Holding her hand, his fingers brushing her knuckles, Grayson leans his forehead on the back of it, drawing a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.

"You're scaring me." Y/N giggles nervously, her right leg bouncing on her knee, making it a little uncomfortable since her heel keeps slipping off thus reminding her she really needs to buy a new pair - one that actually fits and on a day Grayson is too busy to come along. Shopping is a nightmare when the big bad CEO ex mafia boss that is also known as Hellhound joins because she refuses to let him pay for it all but he always insists.

"Do you know how it feels to love you?" Grayson asks, a rhetorical question from what she can tell and he's quick to continue, confessing all that's in his heart.

"It's a consuming, fiery passion." Smiling, he tilts his head ever so slightly to his left shoulder.

"It's a need, a primal drive to protect you, make you laugh and... well, I'm not going to sugarcoat this doll, but an essential desire to give you pleasure." Raising an eyebrow, Grayson licks his lower lip, leaving it shining under the candlelight, rendering Y/N speechless.

She's already trembling, confused with his current emotional gushing. It's not like she's unused to his love proclamations, it's that she can feel it in her bones that this one means something more than all the ones before and after the recent scare and fill of self-doubting, Y/N wasn’t keen on more surprises.

"Gray", she starts softly, worried it would discourage him or somehow hurt his feelings.

As soon as she tries to interrupt, Grayson interjects again, determined to finish his speech.

So, when he stands up and smirks at her widened eyes, Y/N only grew more confused and a little frightened when he suddenly dropped on one knee, opening a tiny box with a stunning, flower themed sapphire ring.

"You've given me hope, something to fight for, a reason to live. You've made me happier than I believed is possible and you've reminded me of what it means to be human. You make me want to be a better man." Swallowing thickly, he noticed she's barely blinking, perhaps in shock with his unexpected proposal, but he couldn't ignore how he feels and what he wants.

And he wants her.

He wanted Y/N to look at him with love in her eyes from the moment he first saw her in that tacky bar, he simply couldn't wait any longer. "You...you're everything - fun, thought provoking, caring, independent and merciful and exceptionally tactful when need be. You're spring and you're summer and you're a woman any man would be lucky to call his."

Lips parting, Y/N tries to speak, to articulate anything that she knows she feels in her heart for this incredible man, but she can't. All she can think of is the why. Why is he, a man who said dating wasn't even his thing, a man who struggled to open up for the longest time is now proposing?

She couldn't help but feel it's to appease her, but that only made her sad. She didn't want him to appease her nor did she want to succumb to society norms. She loves him, he loves her, so why complicate things?

Besides, how can she ignore the unwavering doubt in her mind? Ethan swore it was a false alarm, but her heart told her something is wrong – a sudden romantic gesture of this magnitude is suspicious, isn’t it?

"Will you marry me?" The hopeful look in his eye dwindles almost immediately when she reaches out and closes the box.

"No." Standing up, she throws the rags onto the table, her arms fold over her chest.

"We don't need to get married to love each other and be together, okay?" She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together he felt a little humiliated, but she couldn't allow him to entirely change his view on life and love to make her happy and she was certain he wouldn't ask otherwise.

In fact, she was certain he’s using this proposal to hide something she’s not supposed to know and an affair was currently on her mind. She couldn’t accuse him; she didn’t want to. But she needed to make sure the motive behind his proposal is love, not guilt.

"But I want to." Grayson stood, willing to argue on this but he could tell she's not ready and while he didn't understand why, he realized he will have to wait a little while longer.

Maybe she is right, maybe this is just his guilty self-consciousness pushing him into proposing and officially claiming her as his...most of all, allowing her to claim him as hers.

"I really do. But if you're not ready I will wait. As long as it takes." Noticing his flushed cheeks and desperation laced in his voice, Y/N caved…a little.

“Can I think about it?” And while it wasn’t even close to the definite YES he expected, Grayson had to settle for a maybe, regardless of the way it tore his heart to bits. Yet he felt this is much better than the reaction he’d get if he came clean.

Being with her is all he can ask for and he wasn’t ready to give up on her, on them. And maybe he should have told her the truth about everything, she’d probably be understanding, but he couldn’t be sure. He had put her through so much shit that Grayson feared she had too much and would use the latest troubles as an excuse to finally do what he fears the most – walk away from him.

They laid in each other's arms, holding on with a sense of uncertainty - Y/N felt guilty for making him believe she needed him to change, about the sordid lack of faith she has in him and Grayson felt guilty about the kiss he kept from her.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, Y/N was already gone, just a note left about being paged early even though she was supposed to have a day off. He planned to use that day to spend some time together and rebuild their relationship he just realized isn't as unbreakable as he thought before.

1st person POV

Days passed and Grayson never mentioned the proposal again. In a way I was grateful because dealing with a stomach flu and that night wasn't easy. Though he stayed quiet, I knew he was going back to old habits - using sex to change my mind.

It wasn’t difficult to understand Grayson is angry with me and my decision or lack there of. His usually sweet caress had become hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving me against a wall hungrily, as if he’s trying to make me see that without me he’d be nothing more than this – a rampant animal out for blood even when he loves the one he hurts.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not a dainty little snowflake. He made sure of that. I can do both soft and angry and even if he tries, he’s never that violent with me even when I ask.

And as his fingers dig into my hips, I find myself thrown on the bed, enjoying the look in his eye as he takes me in – lips plump, almost bruised, cheeks crimson and desire behind my lustful gaze – something I practiced in front of a mirror but never knew if it works until he laid on top of me, keeping his body weight off just barely – he wanted me to feel dominated, trapped even, but his kisses, as always, melt away from that fiery, blinding passionate rage.

They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, his hips meeting mine in a slow rhythm, allowing every inch of him to fill me to the brim and he wanted me to feel that. His lips are slow until they’re out of energy and parted, until we are left just lying there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

Blowing a few of my hairs off my neck, Grayson settled in the crook with a plagued look in his chestnut colored eyes. I could sense something is tormenting him, a secret he keeps and I’m not exactly talkative either. I’ve never asked him about the girl that picked up the phone…I’ve rarely been to his office at all.

“How are things at work?” Sliding my hand over his forearm, I can sense the sharp intake of breath through his nose and while it would be far too easy to just ignore it, the fact I could surely pinpoint his lack of verbal communication created an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

Pecking my shoulder, Grayson spoke – his voice oddly cool as if nothing happened moments ago and I am once again reminded Grayson isn’t just any guy I met off the street – he used to deal with people much scarier than his curious girlfriend.

“A lot of work but it’s been wonderful. The transition is going smooth and while there are a few minor issues to deal with, the company is officially legitimized and honest.” Lying is easy for him and that scares me. Maybe he’s not lying to my face, rather omitting the truth but isn’t that just as bad?

Waves of nausea force me to sit up, feeling my mouth salivating as bile rises at the back of my throat and I’m running before I even know what is happening, running to keep myself from ruining the ridiculously expensive rug Grayson splurged on a few months ago.

Sinking to my knees, retching until only clear liquid was coming up. My stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out but the hand on my back and forehead keeping me from falling face first into the toilet kept me earthed. I could only imagine how my face looks, white and dripping bile, sweat, and tears.

“Can you leave? I don’t want you to see me like this.” My voice is hoarse and the pungent stench invaded my nostrils and I heave even though there is nothing left to throw up. My throat feels sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and my mouth tastes of vomit.

As if he could read my mind, Grayson quickly flushed the toilet and helped me lean back against the wall, rushing to fill a glass of water to help me rinse this horrid feeling out of my mouth.

I can’t remember the last time I got sick like this and I certainly can’t remember someone being there to help me and while I wanted him to leave initially, I was so grateful he decided to stay.

“You scared the crap out of me.” Sheepishly admitting to it, Grayson presses his lips together, looking ahead than at me. “You’re seeing a doctor first thing in the morning.” He adds and I scoff, giving him a quick glance.

“I am a doctor. Sort of.” Chuckling, I lean my head on his shoulder, hoping I’m not smelling like a combination of sweat and vomit, but hey, we both need a bath after what we’ve done an hour ago. Besides, making him worry won’t do him much good. There are more pressing matters he needs to dedicate himself to.

“Still. Doll, I never want to risk your health or wellbeing. Okay?”

“I’m aware which is why I know I’m fine and this was just a fluke.” I lied. This is more than just a fluke and the nausea has been going on for a month now, I just never actually had to throw up. And I understand why. My period’s late, long enough to make me fairly certain of what I plan on confirming in the morning – I’m pregnant.

I never understood how women miss their pregnancy for so long, how they don’t notice not having their periods or any other pregnancy symptoms but after everything – thinking we might die, Ethan being shot, starting this internship and then the worry about how solid our relationship is, I just assumed it was late due to stress.

I don’t think that’s the case anymore and I know I have to be more responsible now when I suspect it.

Hands folded in my lap, I interlock my fingers for comfort. Imagining this moment in the past included Grayson, excited and asking me if I'm okay about a hundred times, but never could I imagine being alone, asking a colleague for discretion after having my blood taken.

The thought of being pregnant is daunting, especially at an uncertain time for Grayson and I - another thing I never imagined happening. If anything, I could swear we finally got our happy ending. We were supposed to be stupidly in love while working toward our goals, being a power couple. Instead, we got separated by our schedules, seeds of doubt planted in this time where we were supposed to be stronger than ever.

Is the thought of having a gun held to my head just to have Grayson back too crazy? Probably.

"Hey." Looking up to see the nurse holding a paper in her hand, one I'm sure has answers to my questions and if her smile is anything to go by, the news are supposed to be happy. "Congratulations Y/N. If you need anything, just ask."

For a moment my heart stops, feeling it sink at the thought of telling Grayson and have him be anything but happy. But I am. I am elated.

Placing a hand over my stomach, a smile creeps up on me, spreading until my entire face lights up and I can't help the cheerful giggle escaping me.

"I'm gonna be a mom."

3rd person POV

Standing in front of his windows, looking down at New York with a pensive smile, Grayson thought about how he needs to step up. His first attempt at a proposal failed, miserably, but he wasn't planning on giving up.

She means too much to him to ever give up on her.

The way she said no told him there is more to the story. It was painfully obvious she loves him with all her heart but Grayson wondered what would make a woman in love refuse a proposal.

"Bro, we have a huge problem." Ethan's out of breath, stepping beside his brother with mouth open, still heaving. "And when I say huge problem, I mean a massive, colossal fucking problem."

Looking at his brother, Grayson's jaw clenches with resolve because the blood on Ethan's face is speaking volumes of their issue.

No matter how often he tried to tie up loose ends, it turns out it's nearly impossible to entirely pull out of a decades long criminal history.

"Who the fuck is it?" Fists tights at each side, Grayson's face hardens and his lips press together as Ethan sighs.

"We don't know yet. It's a paid hit, that's sure." Wiping the blood of his bottom lip, Ethan smirks. "But I intend to find out who hired him and I plan to do it the hard way." Raising his eyebrow mischievously, revealing a side of him that's usually dormant but it's awake now and Grayson already knows this would be a fine line to walk on. "You in or what?" Ethan's snarkiness makes Grayson roll his eyes as well as his sleeves.

"I actually liked this shirt." But then again, Grayson is worse than Ethan could ever be and he was about to make that man regret the day he was born. Grayson ‘CEO’ Dolan was gone and Hellhound took over.

"Oh well, I'll buy another one." A cold smile upon his lips, he reverts back to the man he was and he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

1st person POV

Chewing on the inside left corner of my lower lip, I knew this anxiety wouldn't be good for the baby. Isn't it odd how quickly a mother starts to love her child? Even before it's a formed human being the love is so great you can't put yourself first.

I'm already daydreaming of the day I get to meet my baby, to hold it and see it looking back at me with Grayson's eyes. I'm imagining all the things we'll do together and all the ways this baby could change the world.

Drawing a deep breath, I close my eyes and smile, resting my head on my propped up hand and make a choice - I have to tell Grayson and no matter how he reacts, I will not be hurt by it.

If he wants nothing to do with us, I will survive.

Dialing his number, I tap my nails against the metal table in the canteen. Waiting for him to pick up seemed as fruitful as waiting for rain in the Sahara Desert.

Rubbing my forehead, I sigh and lose a little bit of my resolve before realizing I'll have to call his office instead.

"Dolan enterprises, who am I speaking to?" The gentle, feminine voice on the other side of the line makes me tense up, recognizing it immediately. Isn't this the same voice that picked up that night I had nearly lost my mind and frantically called Ethan, weeping as if someone had died? It's the same voice that made me doubt Grayson and the doubt never quite left me despite Ethan's reassurance.

"Y/N Y/L/N. Mister Dolan is expecting my call." I cringe at the mister part, especially since I use it way too often in a sexual manner in private.

"Oh. Well, I have no record of that. Beside, mister Grayson is a very busy man. He has no time for frolicking whores." And the next thing I hear is her hanging up on me, the line going silent.

Looking at the phone in shock, I hold onto it with a death grip. The nerve this bitch has is definitely irking me. I'm most certain she knows who I am and this disrespectful behavior is going to get her a slap - a bitch slap for a bitch.

Gritting my teeth, I let out pent up air through my flared nostrils. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn't leave a dent - perhaps I thought we were stronger than that before but now? Now when I can tell he's keeping secrets and lying to me? It's impossible not to question everything, and that doubt is exactly what breeds jealousy, possessiveness and utter hatred for the woman picking up MY MAN's phone.

3rd person POV

The last thing Y/N expected is to come home before Grayson, a little after three past midnight, courtesy of a chain car crash. What she expected less is to have him come up to their penthouse few minutes after with his normally white shirt drenched in blood.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N tried her best not to lose her mind over the sight, walking toward Grayson who looks like a deer caught in headlights. He hoped she'd be asleep by now, giving him a solid chance to hide his extracurricular activities he never wanted her to find out about.

Yet, he can't seem to find it in himself to lie to her. He's not ashamed of who he is or who he was. He's not ashamed of those he killed to protect his loved ones, her included.

She knew who he is when they fell in love. She loved him when he was drenched in blood as much as when he was picture perfect, her prince charming...from a much darker fairytale.

"Doll, I..." Before he could make an excuse or apologize, Y/N interjects, her hands cupping his scruffy, bloodied cheeks, her eyes boring into his bloodshot ones.

"Are you okay?" That's all she cared about. She didn't give a shit whose blood is on him, as long as it isn't his or any other Dolan's.

She's not supposed to condone his behavior, she's not supposed to blindly accept the fact that he made her a promise and he just broke it, yet she wanted him safe more than she wanted to safeguard her beliefs. More than she could focus on the future well being of the heartbeat under hers.

"Yeah." Grayson nods faintly, managing a weak smile for her sake but also in admiration. If it were any other woman, he'd be arguing right now, but it's not. It's Y/N, his doll, his soulmate. She simply takes his hand, as gory as it is and leads him toward the bathroom.

Sitting him down on the toilet, she works on unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his perfectly chiseled body. His eyes are fixed on her face and tired eyes, realizing she may not be screaming at him but this - him and his choices are wearing her thin. She's fading and he's doing nothing to help her and that makes his chin tremble, making her glance at his lips.

It would be easy to ignore it, to ignore him, but she couldn't ignore the desire to kiss his plump lips, the very lips that signify both heaven and hell to her.

Grayson stands, his fingers hooking the bottom of her shirt, pulling it off with ease, especially since her hair is up in a fish braid as it always is when she's at work.

Leaning in, his forehead rests upon hers, noses brushing as he waits, giving her a chance to bail, to choose if kissing him now would compromise her sanity. And it would. She knows that her sanity is compromised either way, which is exactly why she kisses him, giving him a hard and needful, so incredibly emotional kiss that it used up every last bit of oxygen in Grayson's lungs and he smiles against her lips because she is the only woman that has ever been capable of making him lose his breath. No one ever came even remotely close until she came into his life and claimed him hers for the rest of his life.

"Take your pants off." She commands, slipping her own off along with her panties in one try, walking into the shower without looking back.

She knew he would obey.

Starting the water, she smiles when she feels his hands on her hips, swiftly turning her back to face him in all his glory.

Her hands gripping his forearms, Y/N uses the chance to pull him under the running water, rubbing the blood off him carefully without making eye contact.

The blood pooled around their feet, making Y/N wonder if this is the rest of her life - consuming passion and cleaning the blood off him, no questions asked because she might not like the answers.

She couldn't deny the lure of darkness, of loving a man who is capable of horrific acts that seems to care for her more than anyone else in the world.

Grayson could see the wheels in her head turning, overthinking as always and once again, it is his fault. So, he does what he always does when he wants her to stop thinking - he slams his lips against hers, his left hand at the back of her neck and right one delicately sliding down her back to grip her ass.

“You’re so perfect.” He whispers against her lips, pushing her back against the cold tiles behind them.

“Really?”

A growl escapes him as if her words anger him. His hands leave her ass and move to her stomach. His lips finding hers in a rough kiss. One of his hands move lower, fingers playfully flicking over her clit before he pushes a finger inside her.

“Really.” 

She moans softly at the feeling of his oddly cold fingers in her warm folds. Grayson pushes another finger in and starts moving them in and out at a slow rate.

“Faster”, Y/N moans impatiently, bucking her hips against his hand. Moving his hand faster coaxes soft moans that spill from her lips.

“Tell me what you need”, Grayson smirks, enjoying how easily he can make her his, how even when she should be screaming at him, she’s screaming for him.

‘‘You’’, she responds, her breathing fast, shallow and unpredictably paired with faint gasps that make him shiver with his own need growing.

‘‘Be specific, doll’’, teasing, Grayson slows his fingers down.

‘‘Your dick in my pussy’’, she groans with irritation, gripping his hips as if it would make him stumble into her. Yet, Grayson grins at her and his kisses grow sporadic as his hands grip his length, carefully holstering her up.

Pushing inside, he can’t help but snicker at how wet she is and how easily he fit this time around. He’s loving the ego boost, knowing she craves him with all her being and she’s taking him so well.

However, neither of them can focus too much on anything but the arising orgasms and while Grayson tries to keep a steady rhythm, celebrating every moan and pant passing her glorious lips, he can sense her clenching around him before he’s quite there. 

Holding her in place until the aftershock waves pass her body, Grayson litters her neck with tender kisses.

“Let me go.” She orders, her voice a little shaky and while Grayson wanted to hold her a while longer, not even in a sexual manner, he obeys. Assuming she’s leaving, Grayson shuts the water off only to raise his eyebrows when she goes to her knees.

“Didn’t really think I’d leave you high and dry, did you?” Smirking, her hand grabs a hold of his base and slowly sucks the tip into her mouth.

Looking up at the amused man through her eyelashes, she takes more of his hardened length in her mouth. She never really saw the point of blowjobs, especially watching it on porn where it looked like every girl acted as if they’re eating the most delicious treat and would gladly choke on a guy’s dick, but with Grayson, she came to realize it’s not about the act or about it tasting good – it’s about how badly you want the other person to be puddy in your hands, how even a man as powerful as Grayson will resort to begging when she’s edging him to the brink of insanity.

It’s about power, about pleasure and most of all, it’s about love.

“Y/N”, he moans, grabbing her hair before pulling on it. She glances up at him coyly and he grunts, nearly coming because of the mere sight of her.

‘‘Doll’’, Grayson moans, bucking his hips into her mouth.

“I am going to cum”, he warns in an attempt to pull out, letting go of her hair but she holds his hips firmly, allowing him to come into her mouth, swallowing every last drop.

Panting, he stares down at her as she wipes her plump lips, unable to let the moment pass him by. She’s everything he ever wanted. "Marry me." His words make her choke on her own spit, her eyes widening.

"You're asking me while I'm literally on my knees in front of you? Was the orgasm that mind-blowing? Is it because I swallowed?" She continued berating him with a coy smile, taking his hand on her way up, allowing her hands to travel his body with care, teasing him with her fingertips fanning across his skin.

"Ah, maybe?" He chuckles, groaning as her lips connect with his collarbone only to grunt when her teeth come to play and she nibbles on his skin.

Realizing he won't get anywhere with her if she keeps on working him up, Grayson pushed her lightly, enough for her to pout but understand he means business.

"Seriously though. I asked you once and you told me you'd think about it, but can you honestly imagine a day where we aren't together?" And he made perfect sense, she knew that. But ever since she nearly died...more than once, Y/N wasn't sure about anything in her life except Grayson and she loves him, so much so she can't breathe when he's gone for too long but marriage? It still didn't seem like something he wanted nor needed.

If she is being completely honest, she's still scared he's only asking to please her, to make her happy, not because he wants to be a husband, or that he might resent that down the line.

And most of all, she’s terrified of him doing this to cover up he cheated on her. Something she’s been agonizing over that for a while, trying to have some trust in him. He’s earned that much.

"No, I can't imagine a life without you. But that doesn't mean we have to get married, Gray."

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her, Grayson scoffs. "You really don't want to marry me, do you doll?"

"I do. But the thing is, are you asking because you can't imagine not marrying me or because you think I won't be with you if you don't? Because that piece of paper means nothing to me if it's pressuring you to do something you aren't comfortable with. I love you too much to do that to you." Holding back some of her concerns, she finally leaves the shower with a little help from the naked specimen before her.

"I'm doing this because I want to marry you, doll. I want to be your husband, to be yours in every possible way."

"Sure you're ready to part with that bachelor title?" She cocked an eyebrow, smirking at him as her hands form a protective circle around him, pulling them closer together.

"I've been ready since I met you."

Maybe telling him she’s pregnant won’t be such a disaster after all.

Watching him run into their bedroom, Y/N follows with a new wave of certainty. He loves her. She loves him. Any of the doubts her mind created are likely due to her insecurities and she was done letting them drive her insane.

For the first time in forever, her mind was clear and she was happy to give her hand to Grayson, watching him slip on the ring officially with no regrets.

“Can we talk though?” Y/N draws a shaky breath, hoping to finally shed some light on the second fear.

“Always.” His comforting reassurance made her smile, but her heart quivers in fear.

“Did you cheat on me with your assistant?” Holding his gaze, she notices a slight shift in his pupil, lips parting.

“No. Kerry works for me. That’s all. Why…Why would you think that?” It’s not the best solution – lie right as he put a ring on her finger, even worse to make her feel guilty for asking, but Grayson panicked and he needed the suspicion gone. All this time, he assumed he was in the clear after Ethan said he lied about it after all, but he never once realized it was eating away at her.

“Maybe because she keeps messing up our lunch dates? Or how when I call I’m suddenly called a frolicking whore or how when she picked up your phone she said you’re busy with her and it didn’t sound like it was work kind of busy and I might be overreacting but I swear that woman makes my blood boil and I want to break her like a twig. You trained me!        I could do it!” Rambling, Y/N started to laugh at her own jealousy, especially when she realized she’s arguing while they’re both naked. In fact, they just got engaged naked and if anything, Y/N surely couldn’t ever think they’re normal or boring.

Pulling her closer, Grayson kisses her temple. “I promise Kerry isn’t an issue. I’m devoted to you. So, don’t worry. I’ll deal with her myself.”

But happiness can never last forever. In a week’s time, exactly on the day the pair planned to escape their duties for lunch and longer, Y/N was ready to share the news with Grayson. She was prepared to tell him he’d become a father in about six months or so and she was even more excited to see the confused look on his face when she takes him to the doctor’s with her, allowing him to see the baby and connect the dots himself.

But, that didn’t happen. As always, when one makes plans, destiny sure loves to fuck with them.

"Kerry, can you please let Y/N know I'll be a few minutes late for our lunch date? Just let her into the office." Grayson smiles at his assistant, his eyes bright as they always are when Y/N is on his mind and while he would kill, literally, to be there on time, she's the very reason why he can't do that anymore. He can't be that person and love her at the same time. She deserves better than that. She deserves the man he's trying to be. The man only she brings to the surface - someone he's proud to be.

"Of course." Kerry returns his smile, a little wider, her eyes unblinking as they always are when he's around - filled with emotions Grayson never gave any fuel to. She watched him leave, her grin reduced to a wicked smirk as he disappears behind the corner, just in time for Y/N to arrive.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have an appointment with the boss." Fake pleasantries and smiles never fooled Y/N, though she struggled to understand what exactly made Grayson so certain Kerry isn't an issue.

Ever since she met the snake, well, talked to the snake, Y/N was painfully aware of her attempts to drive a wedge between her and Grayson and the worst part? He's either too daft to see the truth or he's willing to drag her through hell for another woman.

"I don't need an appointment to see my boyfriend…Well, fiancé." Y/N remarks, folding her arms across her chest, glaring at the blonde before her with confidence she's having difficulty maintaining.

Kerry is breathtakingly gorgeous, incredibly well built and perhaps part of the issue stems from the fact that Y/N still can't understand why a man like Grayson would ever settle for her. Because she truly didn't know if someone like Kerry would eventually make him see how plain she truly is.

"Either way, he's not in his office. Something about a lunch date with his new client. Feel free to wait around." Chuckling, Kerry smirked, her words dripping with venom.

"Be more pathetic than you already are. Because in the end, he will come back to me." Clicking her nails against the solid wooden desk before her, Kerry bore a sly smirk, almost victorious once she realized Y/N is clueless and she finally has something to hurt her with.

"He didn't tell you. Did he? How he used to fuck me. Or how he kissed me recently." Raising her eyebrows, expecting tears and maybe even a full breakdown, Kerry wished she could take a picture for gloating.

Y/N stared at her for ten seconds, maybe more, holding her breath in order to hold back her anger, disappointment, and most of all tears. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not even in front of the secretary. Grayson might not be the scariest person in New York anymore but she couldn't allow any trace of emotion show. Perhaps it's all she went through with Mikhail or the Serpents, but she had hardened, her face remaining impassive even in the face of certain death so what is just another woman who plays with her claws.

"That's the key difference." Y/N smiles coldly, stepping closer to the desk with an air of confidence around her - fake it till you make it, she thought.

"He fucked you but he makes love to me." Planting both her palms flat against the desk, leaning closer to the woman who is hell bent on making her relationship crumble and she speaks through gritted teeth: "Get in line bitch, before I make you."

"Ahh, doll! Hope I didn't keep you waiting." Grayson comes up from behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back and she straightens up, faking a smile for Kerry before turning back on her heel, her lips finding Grayson's instinctively.

She let her frustrations free, consuming his lips shamelessly, rather unlike her in public and Grayson knew.

"Tell me you have some time for me?" She whispers against his lips, aware of Kerry's glare at the back of her head. In fact, she hoped the bitch is paying attention because if she has to stake her claim again, she'll need nose surgery. She couldn’t focus on her claims of recent events, but to learn he bedded her destroyed her.

“Actually, you have a meeting in ten.” Kerry interjects but Grayson shakes his head.

"Always have time for my favorite girl. Already took the rest of the day off." And that was an official win in her books, pecking his lips again with genuine enthusiasm.

“Reschedule Kerry. And make sure Ethan calls me back once he’s done…with his current client.” His voice is deep and authoritative, starkly different than when he talks to her. Y/N couldn't help but wonder if he purposefully speaks in a softer tone when he is with her.

Walking off with their arms linked, Grayson decided to ask about the palpable anger once they’re out of the building. So, the moment they found themselves in the limousine Grayson liked to use lately, the gloves were off.

"Want to tell me what that was about? And don't tell me nothing because I could feel you wanted to slap a bitch." Chuckling under this breath, he noticed her lips press together, her eyebrows furrowing and her gentle, warm gaze turned icy, dangerous.

"Your secretary told me you cancelled lunch and then she proceeded to tell me we wouldn't last because she's apparently so fuckable and you know that from experience." Pursing her lips, she could tell he wasn't happy with Kerry and her revelation.

"She's lying. Right?" He swallowed thickly, blinking a little too fast for an innocent man.

Avoiding her gaze, Grayson cursed at the day he took pity and allowed Kerry to be his secretary after closing his gang related business. There was no way around it, his past coming back to haunt him. No matter how hard he tries to run, to hide, it always finds away to ruin his present.

"There was a time we were friends with benefits." Admitting the truth, Grayson could see her horrified expression, the ache it caused.

"Oh my God, WHO HAVEN'T YOU FUCKED?" Grayson once admitted to an array of one night stands, she just never realized she'd be surrounded with them on daily basis.

"I'm seriously asking! How many of them do I see every day and smile kindly at while they discuss how I'll be just another girl on your list?"

"You're not another girl on my list." Grayson interjects, unaware he'd only make it worse.

"Why does she even work for you? She's been nothing but trouble since the day you hired her! She lied about our lunch date, so what else had she fucked up for us?" Shaking her head, Y/N pulls her hair back, feeling suffocated under the weight and warmth it exudes, making her sweat profusely.

"I owe her. Okay? Because when I was recklessly aiming to kill anyone who'd harm you, her brother got murdered as retaliation. Can you not understand that?" Frowning with the memory of his friend's lifeless body, Grayson let out a heavy sigh, one that reminded him of the weight he only ever feels lighten around Y/N. She was usually his cure, a medicine for all that ails him but for the first time since she came into his life, she added onto that weight.

"And that justifies leaving her in a position where she will do anything to break us up? Because if that's so, at least I know your priorities now." Turning away from him, unable to escape while driving in the back of a limousine on the highway, Y/N wished she could jump out and risk it, anything to avoid looking at him or even breathing the same air, but she couldn't. Not with a new life inside her. Not when her worst fears came true – she wasn’t his fiancée because he loves her, but because it’s convenient for him to ease his guilt.

1st person POV

“I’m pregnant.” I admit, deciding to air out all the secrets I’ve been carrying around, all the pain I’ve held inside. If he wants to end it, this is when it happens because even when I tell him news he should react to, all I get is a faint nod.

“I know. Saw the labs in your purse.” And that’s when everything comes barreling down.

Is this why he proposed? Is this why he stays?

“I wanted you to tell me on your own. I found out this morning which is why I took the rest of the day off. Thought we could go up to the garden.” But I couldn’t listen to him anymore nor his lies. The ache in my chest had torn my heart to pieces and I was so tired of holding it together, allowing a single tear to slip past my defenses.

"Grayson, I know." I frown as my voice cracks and he furrows his eyebrows. His hands are close, forming fists. His eyes focus on me, unblinking and empty as if all emotions drained from them when I spoke up, sharing what's eating at me.

"Know what?" His calm, almost political response didn't anger me like I expected, I didn't throw a fit. Instead, I simply shake my head and press my lips together, holding my breath in hope of holding back tears.

"When did you stop loving me?" Speaking is hard, especially with a growing lump at the back of my throat that's making it harder to even breathe.

My words anguish him, terrify and confuse him and I wish I could believe the sudden show of emotion but it's impossibly sad how much I wish I didn't doubt him. I wish I could trust everything he says or does, perhaps I do, but I can't allow myself to immerse in his charming, murky brown eyes again. Not when the uncertainty is gripping every inch of my aching heart.

"I didn't. I love you so, so much! Doll, I love you more than life." He speaks with such conviction, his hands quickly taking mine for reassurance. And it’s romantic and all I needed to hear, yet I can't help but wonder if that's only because I'm pregnant with his child...his heir.

Is that something I'd want for my baby? To live with a target on its back, being groomed to take over an empire their father can't seem to dismantle?

I clear my throat, fixing his fearful gaze with my softer one. "Never love anything more than life." Unless it's our baby. Love our baby more than your empire if you can't love me as much, I think but don’t say.

Wanting to do the right thing is far from doing it.

"Why did you kiss her?" I finally clarify my initial statement, because now I know and no matter what the goal was...I know and there's no going back.

"I didn't want to.” Grayson tries to clarify before I can get another word in, almost pissed I’d ever doubt him. But how can I not. How can I just ignore the signs?

“She kissed me. I pushed her off. I did everything right!" Raising his voice makes me flinch and I hate that. I hate how easily I submit when someone raises their voice and he knows that. He’s aware that’s why we talk and not yell at each other, but emotions are running high and I’m praying he’s not doing this on purpose.

"That's not the point, Grayson! The point is…why did she feel so comfortable to get so intimate? Why would she think you'd kiss her back?!" Folding my arms across my lower stomach, I try to ignore the slight ache spreading inside.

It’s impossible not to worry about the baby, if this argument is something that will cause an unfortunate event and I draw a deep breath, looking at Grayson who is shaking his head as if I’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world, but I’ve gotten to him. His pause is simply because he is out of excuses.

"Because she's a psychopath? How should I know?! Doll, I love you."

"Don't fucking call me that!" I snap, wiping my chin to clear the spit that escaped me when the anger burst and if I could, I’d have hurt him in that moment too. I’d show him my wounds, but I stop, trying to compose myself.

Not only is my fiancé lying to me, but he’s had his brother help him cover up his deeds as well.

"Don't push me away. Don't use your insecurities as excuses to push me away and break us apart. We're supposed to be happy! Engaged and expecting!"

The audacity!

"Well, I'm not the one who lied. I’m not the one throwing your flaws in your face. Had you told me the truth or at least tried to nip it in the bud, I'd be fine with it. But you felt the need to lie, to force Ethan of all people to support your lies and I... there must have been a reason for that. You're keeping things from me and I thought it was my fault and this is the second time you've made me feel guilty for the issues that stem from your inability to communicate like a normal human being and I'm so fucking tired of it. I'm fucking tired of picking up the pieces every time shit goes down because you believe you're blameless." Looking away, I bite my lip and for a moment I wonder if I went too far. But I did mean it. All our issues come from his secrecy and lack of communication and it’s impossible not to wonder if it comes from a lack of trust too.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never my intention to make you feel like that." Reaching for my hand, he sighs when I move it away, disgusted with him at this point.

"Does that actually matter when the result is pain? Fuck, Grayson, I thought you said it would be different now. I thought I'd be your priority for once, but it remains a verba, not res thing."

I can hardly stomach his presence, let alone touch and the pain in my stomach isn’t letting up.

“Gah!” I scream out, the sudden sharp pain making my defenses fall, revealing the vulnerability beneath as I grasp his hand, desperate to have him close.

No matter how much pain he causes, I still look to him for a cure. How fucked up is that?

"Are you okay?" His free hand braces me, holding me as if I’m made of porcelain, not steel.

"I feel like I'll be sick." I mutter, cold sweat running at the back of my neck and forehead, my hands shaking as they grip his as if he would save me. As if he would make it all better.

Shortage of breath is the first sign my pain has caused a panic inside, the thought of harm coming to the baby draining every bit of sanity I’ve got left. I'm breathing but the air just won't go in, like my lungs are caged birds. Next comes the rising panic I wanted to avoid, the dizzy feeling and the need to get low to the ground.

“Breathe.” Grayson whispers and I soon feel the car stop, the door opening and our driver giving me a look of pity – the kind I hated most of all.

"I'll help you out." Grayson all but carried me out, allowing my feet to touch the ground simply to save my pride, probably afraid I’d make him let me go if he tried anything more. Perhaps I would if the pain and panic didn’t blind me entirely, leaving me gasping, my mind spiraling as I look down in fear of what I might find. Noticing no blood, I manage a faint smile and tilt my head up to meet his dazzling, warm eyes.

Damn those eyes I love so much.

Swallowing my pride, I decide to thank him as the pain gradually subsides. Holding me close, keeping my heart beating, Grayson had managed to calm me down, my breathing synchronized with his and I realize my blood pressure must have skyrocketed during the argument and it must have caused pain.

"Tha –“, but I don’t get to say it. Not when a deafening sound of gunshots leaves me breathless. It takes me a moment to fully understand what is happening, the screams around me fading to nothingness as Grayson spins us around, his arms firmly around me as if they’re my armor.

Gasping for air, I feel the arms around me loosen, a loud thud following and the warmth disappears only for horror to take its place.

“GRAYSON!"

3rd person POV

Y/N’s scream rippled through the street, the raw intensity of her fear cracking the heart of any human close enough to hear. She falls to her knees, helpless as her fingers grip his white shirt lacking evidence any harm came to him.

Her eyes lay upon his, desperately searching for signs of life and while the driver dials 911, Y/N needed someone else. She needed Ethan but she couldn’t move, her entire body shaking violently.

“Doll”, Grayson breathes out and she no longer remembers the anger in which she told him to forget that nickname. It’s a distant memory as she sobs, her vision blurred with tears. His hand clutches her right one, forcing a smile to ease her mind but even he knows that’s impossible at this point.

“It’s – It’s”, a cough interrupts his need to comfort her, yet she knew exactly what he wants to tell her. She knows exactly what he means and it only breaks her further, especially when she notices the blood pooling under her knees – his blood – the blood he needs to survive. And she’s practically a doctor, she’s supposed to help him, but she can’t – there’s nothing she can do. She can’t even move him.

“It’s not fine! None of this is fine!” Inadvertently screaming, she wipes her left cheek with the back of her hand, pissed and so, so in love with him for trying to calm her down and give her some hope and while she can hear the sirens in the distance, he is fading right before her eyes and the terror of a thought invaded her mind – he will die.

“I don’t want to live without you. Grayson, we have so much more to do and I…I’m so sorry I didn’t accept your proposal the first time you asked!” Her voice cracks, forcing her to stop and swallow for a moment, long enough to catch a crooked smile on his quivering lips.

“I’m so angry at you Grayson Dolan! You don’t get to die if it’s not by my hand! Do you understand that?!” Squeezing her hand, Grayson’s lips part with intent to tell her he understands.

He wanted to tell her he loves her and always will and that she will never be alone even if he doesn’t survive. For the first time ever, Grayson looked up at Y/N with fear because he knew whoever did this to him was aiming for his girl and the baby inside her. Grayson Dolan, the Hellhound, the man who fears nothing found himself frozen in fear as his Y/N stood above him, almost hysterical. And he couldn’t do a damn thing. He couldn’t do more than he already did – save her.

He couldn’t hold her and make her tears dry and he couldn’t manage his last I love you nor a meek smile.

What he could do is imagine if she would be happier if he just let her go when he had the chance?

If he never came back into her life once she walked out that door?

She made him happier he had ever been, but did he do the same for her or is the danger he put her in by loving her worth it? She could have done all the things she wanted to without him holding her back and yet she stayed. She stayed and loved him so well he actually saw a future past the life he was born into.

She’d be happy without him, he knew it. Maybe happier than she ever was with him, but he was too selfish to allow it, too possessive to imagine another man’s hands upon her.

She isn’t happy now, he’s certain of it. The tears in her eyes tell him that and all he wishes is to take back what he said in the limo, to remind her how they were and not their last day of screaming…of blur.

Eyelids growing heavy, Grayson’s smile fades, praying she find happiness she deserves once more.

All that he kept thinking throughout their whole flight is it could take his whole damn life to make it right because he knew he had wronged her. They had gotten through so much worse than this before and he wondered what's so different this time that she just can't ignore? He could see her saying it is much more than just his last mistake and had the pain nor this shooting happened she’d have asked for some time apart for both their sakes.

And Grayson doesn't know where to look, his sight fading. His words just break and melt, there’s not enough time to ask for forgiveness. There is never enough time and he prays, for the first time in a long time, he prays for someone to save him from this darkness. All he needs is one more moment to make things right, for his last words to be of love and not a fight.

Closing his eyes, he feels his shoulders are shaking with force, realizing it’s Y/N and her attempt to keep him awake but he can’t do it, he can’t open his eyes. He can’t even hear her anymore, but he senses her hands on his face, the olive hand cream he bought her invading his senses and he’s grateful – he’s in the arms of the one he loves most – not a bad way to go for a man with his past. 

“Grayson?” Y/N croaks, shaking him once more before her shaky hands grip his cheeks and her tears fall down on him as well.

She’s gasping for air that simply isn’t there. Her throat burns, forming a silent scream. The pressure inside her chest pushes forth, releasing the most hysterical cry, the screaming sobs only interrupted by her need to draw breath.

It’s a deep, primal sound, one humans are programmed not to ignore. Those who hid previously finally continued on their way, turning their heads toward Y/N, some of them even filming the scene. Caught between an impulse to help and another to stay out of bother, some simply looking for something to gather followers on Twitter, people gathered around them.

But whatever they chose their day had been altered. To be so close to such pain changes a person, even just temporarily. Their own pains come a little closer to the surface; their empathy is triggered.

Y/N can’t remember when the ambulance came, still checking his pulse – the only part of this keeping her breathing. His pulse is faint, but it’s there and she selfishly thought it’s her man fighting to stay with her.

For her.

She stepped away as they dragged him away from her, as if she wasn’t even there. Stepping up into the vehicle, she sat beside him and grabbed a hold of his hand, struggling to keep herself afloat. His hand is cold, something she never once felt in all the time she knew him and it only deepens her emotional breakdown.

It was all happening so fast, she couldn’t keep up. They got to the hospital rather quickly, taking him away from her without even giving her a chance to kiss him one more time.

Just in case.

She shakes her head at that thought, refusing to think so negatively at a time where Grayson needed hope. She needed hope too.

Pulling her phone out, she calls the one person she knew could give her some.

“Ethan?” Her hoarse voice is a dead giveaway something happened all while Ethan was in much bigger shit, blood up to his elbows after executing the last man they captured after procuring vital information.

“Who died?” It’s all he can say, realizing the answer may just kill him. He was calling Grayson minutes ago to tell him of a shooting they planned to kill Y/N in order to break him and he didn’t pick up. Shivers run down his spine as Y/N’s pause chips away what sanity he has. And it’s not much at this point.

“I need you.”

Ethan didn't think, grabbing his gun and jacket, his heart sinking at the sound of her voice. "Tell me where you are."

His assistant jumped as he barreled through the hallway, blood still fresh on his hands, a telltale sign he's losing his mind and someone might suffer for it.

"Where do you think you're going like that?" She hissed, stepping in his way confidently, refusing to buckle under his ruthless glare.

"Move." Ethan growls, his jaw clenching and his lips pressing together. He's furious, but he doesn't scare her. So, instead of moving away, she moves in, her arms wrapping around his tense body, ignoring the fact he's not returning the hug. Instead, she takes a whiff of his cologne, comforting herself since he didn't allow her to comfort him.

"I'm coming with you." Is all she says, taking her bag and his hand firmly, disallowing his near attempt at pushing her away. After months of caring for him and catering to all his needs, Selena wasn't about to abandon him when it counts the most.

Ethan wanted to thank her, to say he appreciates her kindness but the lump in his throat is too big and he fears speaking would make him crumble and he can't afford to be weak now. He can't break when he has to be the rock. So, instead of saying a word, Ethan grips her hand tighter and leads her into the company car, deciding it's best if he doesn't drive.

"Take me to the hospital." He orders the driver, turning to Selena with uncertainty in his eyes. She's trembling, he can tell, yet she's there with him - no questions asked.

Better yet, she's opening her bag and grabbing wet wipes, rubbing the blood off him meticulously to hide his crimes instead of reporting him and he never understood why Grayson was so keen on protecting Y/N before.

Truth be told, he loves Y/N like a sister and he can't imagine not having her in his life, but he finally realized the reason why Grayson loves Y/N, as selfish as that emotion is in their line of work.

Everyone needs someone to lean on and Ethan never expected to find someone he wanted as much as Selena, but in that moment he thanked his lucky stars he did. He wanted to kiss her like the moon does sea, weightless with the ability to move the deepest parts of her soul.

Ethan no longer wanted only sex and companionship, he wanted romance and vulnerability.

A faint smile appears on his lips as he shakes his head at the crazy thoughts plaguing him. Getting shot isn't always a bad thing, is it?

But reality isn't going anywhere and it weighs on him heavily.

"It's Grayson. It was a drive by shooting." Ethan tells her, noticing her pause in shock, unable to look in his eyes.

Selena lets out a shaky breath, glancing up at the tormented expression on Ethan's face and she can't help the tears forming in her eyes.

She knows Y/N and she knows Grayson and if they hadn't hired her when they did, she wasn't sure what her life would be now. She liked them, enough to make her heart ache but what made her cry is Ethan - if he hurts so does she.

And while she never thought of herself as a violent person, she discovered there is a lot more she doesn't know about herself in the past few months. Seems like Ethan is a man who is allowing her to reach into the depths of her very being, finally in tune with her own soul. So, before she comprehends it, she speaks with no remorse.

"Kill the bastard who did it."

Nodding, Ethan cracks a pained smile. "I intend to."

"Sir, we're here." The driver pipes in, ending the moment they shared effectively. Ethan had just gotten his hands clean but as he stepped out of the car, he could already tell his hands would be bloody yet again.

He didn't wait for Selena, making great strides toward the emergency room with his mind screaming at the possibility of what he might find.

He couldn't breathe until his eyes find Y/N, swallowing thickly as he sees the state she's in. Her hands are folded in her lap, bloody as are her legs. There is no light in her once bright eyes, the dash of spring her usual smile brings now turned into a harsh winter chilling everyone who dares glance at her.

Black tracks on her cheeks are constantly watering down with new streaks her unyielding, sorrowful tears create. And it breaks his heart to see her so lost, so beaten down that he can't help but remember the last time he saw her in that state - the day she rushed into his arms when Mikhail was killed and that was after a long while of torture.

This seemed worse.

Much worse.

"Y/N." His voice is deep, low, as if speaking in any other way would be disrespectful, as if her pain matters more than his.

Looking up at him, Y/N's eyebrows furrow and her eyes narrow, almost as if she can't believe Ethan is there...little did he know her mind played a trick on her and the light above his head nearly made her believe Grayson had come for her.

Standing up with the last atom of her strength, Y/N throws her arms around Ethan, holding him so tight he could have sworn she wanted to kill him. But she didn't.

She closed her eyes and pretended. She pretended it was Grayson, just for a moment. She couldn't cry anymore, not in heartbreaking sobs like she did when it first happened; the tears fell silently and her lips quivered on their own.

"He thinks I hate him." She whispers, her voice raspy and emotional, putting more weight on Ethan's shoulders. "We were arguing before it happened and", letting go of Ethan, she takes a step back only then noticing Selena behind Ethan.

Glancing at Ethan, she pressed her lips together, drawing a shuddered breath.

"If there is one thing I know it's that he loves you and he doesn't doubt your love either. He'd die for you." Ethan places his hands on her shoulders, bending enough to force eye contact she avoided as if she is ashamed of what Selena heard.

But Ethan's words rattle her, only reminding her when Grayson told her he loves her more than life. She warned him not to say that. It was heartfelt, she knew that and today she saw he truly meant it.

"And that's exactly what he did today. I want to believe, E...I want to so bad but...this was different than the first time. This was different than you." Holding her breath, Y/N felt a wave of desperation flood her and her eyes brought forth faster, anguished tears that drew their force from the very essence of her pain, so much so they don't fall but crash.

"I want to know who is responsible. I want them dead." Y/N's eyes harden as she spat hate, anger taking over as her hands form fists and Ethan could see she's out for blood. He wants to act too, he does. But she can't be a part of it.

The last thing Grayson would want is his sweet Y/N getting her hands dirty.

"I'll take care of it. I already know who it is." Ethan assures her, meaning well but all it does is set her soul aflame.

"We will take care of it. This is personal."

"No, no, no. Stay here and I'll come back when it's done. I promise." Ethan insists, pushing her back when she chuckles dryly, trying to pass him as if Selena knew the information she needed, as if she could do this herself.

Speaking though gritted teeth, Y/N stepped closer. "You can take me with you or I can follow you. Really wanna risk that?"

Licking his lips, Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her stubbornness. He’s heard how it usually troubled his brother but being confronted with it wasn’t exactly a picnic.

Her eyes are red and puffy but the determination in her eyes honestly scared him. Y/N isn’t bluffing and he had no possible way of controlling her decisions. If Grayson couldn’t, how could he?

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan rubs his chin, aware this is happening and he can’t escape. Well, he could, but it would include using force and Grayson would kill him if he even tried. Hell, he’d kick his ass just for considering it even if it was just a thought.

“Selena, can you please stay and keep us informed?” Ethan glances over his shoulder at the sweet brunette, smiling when she nods. He wished to hold her, even for just a moment but the last thing he needs is Y/N telling Grayson about them after all this is done, and it would be – Grayson would live to yell at him for inappropriate work relationships again. He knew it in his heart.

“I’ll call the boys to pick up the guilty party. Let’s go.” Y/N had to run to keep up with his stride, annoyed but unwilling to nag him when he’d given her the best possible gift – revenge.

Sitting in that waiting room would have drained her entirely, the guilt eating away at her. Y/N needed to do something to forget about Grayson’s current state, to ignore the fear’s iron grip.

The drive to their usual warehouse was longer from this side of the city, giving Y/N plenty time to think. Too much time.

It didn’t take long before her mind began to remember all the things she loved and hated about Grayson.

Ever since they moved into the penthouse, she absolutely hated his habit of spending all the hot water and forgetting to warn her about it. She hated how often he’d keep her up snoring and even more how he loved to frighten her when she’d come home from a night shift. It was a constant battle to teach him to wash the dishes properly and not just throw them away saying he’d buy new ones. Same thing applies to his clothes. She also hated how meticulous he was about the way his clothes were to be folded and especially about the way he’d insist the thermostat is supposed to be.

But there are so many things she loved about him too. She loved how sweet he is, how he’d cuddle her every day even when she was too shy to ask. He’d just know she needs it and his arms would already be around her. She also loved how he’d cut up fruit for her because he knew how she loves to snack on it, or how he’d leave her hearts on the mirror every time he’d finish his showers only for her to discover them after he’d gone to work. She adored how much thought he’d put in every word, every touch, every single gift he’d given her including his unwilling attainment of a singular hoodie for them to have a sense of normalcy. And most of all, she loved how he dismantled his gang related business just to make sure they have a bright future together.

Smiling, she realized every single action he does is to make her feel safe and loved. It’s his way of telling her he loves her without a single word passing his tender lips.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she hated herself with such ferocity over her last words spoken to him in undiluted anger. Their last interaction should have been filled with love not rage.

She never quite realized it before, but she was always his greatest achievement, the one he was proud of the most and now when they were inches from their happily ever after, from becoming a real family, they took him away from her – they ripped her heart out and she wanted to repay the favor.

“If something happens to me, you’d protect her, right?” Grayson tilts his head, hoping his brother would give him some sign he’d make sure his doll would be safe even if one of his enemies take him out. He’s tried to retire and forget the world he was born into but to do so isn’t up to him. It took him a while to understand that he will never truly be retired.

Even if he isn’t a criminal anymore, they still remember him and he’s still the symbol of the undefeated gang – The house of the rising sun ruled over New York for decades and many wanted to dethrone them, unfortunately that is possible only through slaughter.

“I would. She’s like a sister to me. I’d never let any harm come to her.” Ethan responds, not even thinking about it. It’s true, his affection for Y/N is strong and platonic.

“Promise me.” Grayson demands softly, aware he shouldn’t be distrustful toward his twin but he couldn’t help but be irrational when it’s Y/N’s life at stake.

All the signs and latest assassins have made him paranoid, spending so much of his time making sure none of them ever get close to Y/N and he wasn’t sorry.

When Y/N is at stake, he’d let blood run until there’s a river flowing through the streets. She’s his weakness and yet the reason why he remains Hellhound to any with intent of using her against him.

Those who tried are all dead now.

Ethan understood, though, willing to make his brother a vow. “I promise.”

He didn’t feel like he’s upholding his promise anymore. It felt like he broke it before his brother had even died, even more when he saw Y/N reach for a gun in her purse.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan gave her an incredulous look, nearly having a stroke when he saw her take the safety off.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Her impassive response only made him more anxious and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“I thought he bought you a taser not a fucking gun!” Shouting, he tried to pry the gun from her hands but he found resistance.

“He did. But I took his.” Pulling away from Ethan, she rolls her eyes at his paled face.

“He thought me how to use this as well how to fight. I’m not a damsel in distress and I’m done waiting for someone to protect me and the baby.” Opening the door, she stepped out swiftly, setting off to where Grayson once took her. Granted, he took her against his will because she demanded to know everything.

“BABY?!” Ethan’s gruff scream had made her stop, waving him over to quicken his pace.

“Yeah. Congrats on being an uncle. Well, you’re not one yet but you will be.” She chuckles and Ethan can’t help but wonder if she’s completely mad at this point.

There’s one thing to put her in danger but the baby too?

Grayson will surely kill him when he finds out.

“You’re going to get me killed.” Ethan complains as she opens the door and is found face to face with three people, all tied up and gagged. Two men she had never seen in her life and a woman.

“Fucking Kerry.” Y/N spat, walking over to her, backhanding her without remorse.

Kerry seems almost amused as she shoots Y/N a wink only sending her into a fit of rage. “You fucking bitch!”

No one dared to hold her back as Y/N screamed, throwing punch after punch, not even when Kerry’s nose was clearly broken and bleeding and Y/N’s raw knuckles weren’t much better.

Ethan grabbed a hold of her, pulling her arms behind her back seemingly the easiest way to stop her without harming her or the baby.

“I will fucking kill you!” Y/N screamed as Ethan dragged her out and away from the situation. Before the door closed, Y/N could hear three distinctive gunshots. It only made it worse.

Ethan didn’t care if she hated him, he protected her as he promised his twin. Rage often makes us do what we regret when our mind is clear once again and he knew she’d regret it eventually. Killing is never easy and someone as pure as her would be haunted by it as he and Grayson are.

“WHY?! I WANTED TO DO IT!” Her venom turned to tears and before Ethan knew it, her body shook with new sobs breaking through the surface. “I can’t do this without him, E. I can’t!” She wailed, allowing Ethan to carry her back into the car.

He cradled her like a child, holding her close, his own tears showing. They truly understood one another, their pain is the same. “Shh.” Ethan whispered, worried about the baby and the stress this day had brought. “You won’t have to. My brother is nothing if not stubborn. He won’t leave us yet.”

The two returned to the hospital, neither capable of speaking anymore. There’s nothing to say anymore, nothing to do, just wait.

“He’s out of surgery but we won’t be able to see him for a few more hours until he’s stable.” Selena explains, only then receiving a hug she craved for the entire day. Ethan’s chest had become home for her and it felt indescribably good to be home again.

Y/N watched with envy, wondering when will she be able to return to her safe place. “Can I at least see him through the glass?” Y/N pipes in, weary of interrupting them in a moment they both needed. She was happy for Ethan but she couldn’t help but be bitter about her own unhappiness.

“I’ll make it happen.” Selena promised, ducking out of there quickly, a woman on a mission and she never fails.

“You lied to me.” Y/N accuses, her tired eyes giving him a bleak look of disappointment but there is no more anger left inside her. She’s desolated and the only one who would ever make it better is unconscious in a hospital bed.

“About Kerry.” She clarifies as confusion settles. “I asked you if he was cheating and he told me they kissed…Well, she kissed him. It was obviously a ploy to separate us.” Y/N musses, fixing Ethan with her gaze and he shifts uncomfortably, feeling as if he had let her down.

“I know. I saw it happen and Grayson explained. I thought the pain would be unnecessary. Besides, her motive was to break him. She admitted it to our men who took her. She wanted him to lose you, me, the company…everything before she could kill him herself. She blamed you…and him for what happened to her brother.” Ethan explains, taking her hand in his for comfort she so desperately needs but she shies away.

“It wasn’t. Anyone’s fault, I mean. Her brother knew what he was getting himself into when he joined us and Grayson avenged his death. She used their history and her brother’s death to manipulate Grayson who is drowning in guilt, but he loves you Y/N. He’d never cheat on you.”

“I know.” She manages a meek smile, averting her eyes toward the door they took him through – the door that took him away from her.

“I lost sight of it along the way, allowed that psycho to get in my head and I’m just dreading losing him now. It’s always been my worst fear…to have him choose another or lose him to death…I guess I really need to start working on my insecurities and believe in him more.” Shrugging, she glances at Ethan who nods, ecstatic she isn’t holding his lie against him.

“But you can’t lie to me like that again, E. I love you like a brother, but lying isn’t something I enjoy. Not about the psycho bitches kissing my man and not about the obvious issues regarding his past. He’s always gonna be haunted by them, won’t he?” She tilts her head to the right, sucking her bottom lips in and Ethan realizes she’s right – it’s more dangerous if she doesn’t know.

“Yes. I don’t think we’ll ever truly be rid of them. But it isn’t as bad as it seems. Not many dare come after him and those who did have all died. I expect a long while before there’s another issue. But when it comes, we will deal with it. I promise you.”

Sniffling, Y/N offers a crooked smile in gratitude though her words are borderline sarcastic. “My heroes.”

“You can see him. Go through there and they’ll take you to him. Just gotta put on those clothes, you know that better than me.” Selena’s words are like rain after months of draught and Y/N’s legs move quickly, nearly stumbling as she rushes toward the door.

1st Person POV

Shaky legs, trembling hands, I try my best not to cry as I follow a nurse on the way to where my heart lies. It’s impossible to keep my head up high anymore, this had defeated me – today had nearly killed me.

Resting a hand on my lower abdomen, I draw a quick breath to keep my mind clear, as clear as it can be considering the circumstances. What I’m certain of is that today had the power to break me yet I’m still standing and he…he’s still breathing.

Putting on the cap and gown, I’m fast to enter his room despite what I’ve been told. No one could keep me away from him in this moment, not even death.

His skin is ashen, far too pale in comparison to his usual tan. The eyes I love so much are closed shut and while he’s not dependent on a breathing tube, his state is shocking. The ever-present smirk is gone from his lips, no more teasing or sass leaving them and that’s probably the scariest part of it all – he’s quiet, eerily so.

When we first met, Grayson was a man of few words but when he gave me his heart, his trust and undying loyalty, Grayson never really shut up and while I used to be annoyed with his incredibly long stories while I was trying to study, I’d trade everything to hear them again.

"Thank you for saving me." I murmur, delicately placing my hand on his cheek, terrified it would somehow hurt him. But it doesn’t, in fact, Grayson’s eyelids flicker, his struggle to open his eyes taking my breath away.

"It's nothing." Grayson sighs; his voice raspy, his face twisting in agony as he attempts to move his hand to encase mine.

"You could have died! It’s not nothing, Grayson! Kerry could have killed us and you protected me. You kept me safe. " Helping him, I take his hand and give it a light squeeze, the one that ensured he knew how much he means to me. He manages to open his eyes, his gaze longing and sweet, no anger about Kerry or our argument from before reflecting in his brown hues.

Grayson's lips twitch as if a smile would hurt him but he wanted to try for my sake. It's as if he found my words to be ridiculous. "Dying to save the woman I love? My child? There are worse ways to go, doll. It's the most honest thing I have done in my entire life. But next time you warn me about someone, I’ll believe you."

Turning his head so his lips would press a tender kiss upon my palm, Grayson lets out a heavy sigh. "I'd have done it a thousand times over if I had to. You mean more to me than I can say, especially with morphine making me question what's real and what's a dream."

Licking his dry lips, he succeeds and smirks. "Sometimes I worry you're just a dream. You're far too good for me."

Chin quivering, I shake my head and lean in. Resting my forehead on his as gently as possible, my nose brushing his cheek, I feel my heart clench in wake of his words. I've always felt he's too good for me, but never had it crossed my mind he might feel that he's unworthy of me.

I love him very much. More than I can trust myself to say. More than words have the power to express.

“Never. We’re just right for one another.” My whisper brings about a goofy smile on his face and I can’t help but reciprocate, holding back tears I know would only weigh on him.

“Soulmates.” He speaks as his eyes close again.

“I guess you could call it that.” I nod, chuckling, receiving no response. I lean back with a fond smile, realizing he’d fallen asleep again, his relaxed smile remaining put. “Sweet dreams, handsome.”

Grayson’s recovery had certainly been difficult, especially when I once again imposed the ‘no sex’ rule until his wounds healed. “This really isn’t fair.” He’d argue but even if I did desire him, I wasn’t as easy to break.

Another thing that bothered him greatly is being unable to return to work. Ethan had taken over the business for a while, allowing me to confiscate Grayson’s work phone thus ensuring he’d take it easy for a while. However, I soon realized Ethan had a hidden motive for doing that as it protected his secret as well. Unlucky for him, one moment in the same room with him and Selena and Grayson was up to speed.

“You’re fucking your assistant, aren’t you asshole?” Grayson whisper shouts, using the first alone moment with Ethan to chew him out.

“Literally not the bigger issue here.” Ethan chuckles, watching Grayson’s face turn red and that vein on his forehead appear only signifying his frustration.

Trying to sit up, Grayson swings at Ethan in hopes of catching him and pulling him closer to do some actual damage but Ethan maneuvers around his attempt easily.

“No fighting and no getting up!” I reprimand him from outside the room, not even pretending I’m not listening in. I mean, can you blame me?

“THIS IS THE THIRD ONE IN A ROW!” Grayson growls, already seeing the headlines once a reporter catches a whiff of the story and oh the lawsuit that would follow that could bankrupt them wasn’t far in his mind either.

“At least I didn’t impregnate anyone!” Ethan retaliates and I can’t help but pipe in, slightly offended.

“HEY!”

“Sorry sis, I’m still happy for ya!” Ethan’s apology makes me smile but it also makes me walk into the room with my arms crossed.

“He’s obviously serious about Selena and from the way she handled everything that day, I’m rooting for them. So stop being a grumpy old man and start be encouraging. Love love Gray.”

Needless to say he pouted for a few days for taking Ethan’s side in the argument, but he was still the cuddliest human being on the planet. I didn’t really mind. It had given us plenty time to genuinely talk and revise what we’ve gone through and for once, neither of us had any reservations about our future.

“I never really imagined myself having kids.” Grayson admits, quietly as if it’s a sin as he lays on my chest, my fingers threading through his hair. “I mean; this life we have now is…let’s just say the old me would never believe it’s real. I still struggle believing in it.” His hand moves down to my stomach, rubbing soothing circles over my shirt.

Smiling, I pull his hand lower where the uterus is, causing him to chuckle in the process. “I hope our baby gets your brain.” He whispers, warming my heart.

“I hope she gets your eyes.” I add and in seconds, he lifts his head and looks at me with a confused look on his face.

“She?” He questions and I shrug, running my knuckle along his sharp jaw fondly.

“Just a feeling. You’re gonna have one tough girl on your hands.” I respond, enjoying the way he pales this time around.

“I can barely handle one of you. Oh, God.” Plopping his head between my boobs, he groans once more before pulling himself up and beside me. “I love you, but I’m not sure I’ll survive this fatherhood thing.”

“You ran a gang, you still run a company. You’ll do just fine you big baby.” I remark, earning an earnest cackle.

“You’re badass. More badass than me from what I’ve heard. A force to be reckoned with. Untamed, nothing but flames.” Raising his eyebrow, Grayson leans in, his eyes undeniably set on mine wishing to lean upon them with passion and fierceness.

“Thought you liked me being innocent and all that.” I roll my eyes, dragging my tongue across my lips as if to lure him in and I can tell it’s working, his gulp and dark, piercing gaze speaks volume of it.

“I supposed I was wrong. I still love all of you – innocent and ferocious. A perfect combination.” And with that, his lips meet mine and I’m in heaven once more. The happiness Grayson invokes is infectious.

It starts as a tingle in my fingers and toes, a lot like the feeling I get when I'm anxious, but instead of worry it brings forth warmth. I feel it pass through me like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of my days to leave me refreshed inside. As the wave fades I savor the memory of its gentle touch. The feeling is a blissful evocation of time spent with Grayson on the beach when he whisked me away to Hawaii and we dared to dream how we’d could run away and forever be as carefree.

How I loved those days when we walked on the sand and simply talked, laughed and made silly jokes as well as the long, fiery nights filled with nothing but intimacy and pleasure. But they can continue here as well, our love can remain as strong as it was back then.

There will always be another who wants to take the crown of the Hellhound – the king of New York and I was afraid. I was terrified.

Not anymore.

Grayson is no longer the only one with a taste for blood and God help those who try to harm my family.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Tags: @voidgray @dancingstardolans @love-mysterious-love @kayla20448 @purplelilac0223 @whotfiskate @yellowitsmendes  @lanadeldolans @reblogdolan  @graysdiabla  @cuteunicorns11  @its-pickle @ancoraesisto @mutuallynotmutual @annyanns @beinscorpio @fallinginlove-16 @dxlansfxck @yazziemp3 @usdolans @bqbyyhoneyy @dolanficrecs @sugarfootdolan @heyits-claire @godlydolans @accalialionheart @lacydolans @starrydolan  @g-e-dolan @kaiadolan @jeffxchella @mmmmmgd @livelongdolan @woeitsaly @stephdolan @dangerouslybitchyb  @grayson-dolans-dangly-earring @sparklydonkeyhandsdeputy @hey-graysondobrik @cheepwine @smileygrayson  @sadboidols @needysposts @soontobecool @r3sil3nc3 @chvrrydolan @ahoneybeing @daddygraysonsbitch @dolandolll @prettymuchdolansbitch @babyboydxlan @blueporschedolan @mindlessdolan​ @mmoonx​  @giggling-grayson​ @ethanhes​ @harryigprompt​ @ancoraesisto​ @kpoppindolans​ @dolansmith​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @peacedolantwins​

[unknownblanked]

Shameless self promotion

Main character: OC

Pairings: OC x Reborn

My fic:

*Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn*

*Rating M*

Summary: I have never wanted anything other than to be a boss. Sorry dear brother of mine, but I will become a better boss than you would ever become. Warning: M for a reason, not for innocent souls. 2 days updates

Kinda BL since MC who used to be a girl became a guy after transmigration. But idk what to even say at this point

Genre: fantasy/adventure/romance

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13908034/1/

First chapter preview:

Chapter 1

"Eff you! Eff me! Eff the world!" She shrieked with her lungs, hand pointed at the sky.

"I wanna hold guns and look cool in suits! I wanna be pardoned by university to become a boss! I wanna have a gang while playing background music!"

"IF I EVER REINCARNATE TO KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN, I'LL BECOME VONGOLA DECIMOOOOOOOO!"

Darkness enveloped her as she sunk deeper into the abyss, not knowing what was going on after that flash that blinded her eyes. Could it be isekai truck-kun? She scoffed at her own words, not believing a single thing that came out of her own thoughts. She felt a shuffle, then a thump as her whole world lifted in the air. Suddenly, a baby's cry chortled beside her, screaming.

What was going on? Was she being carried into some kind of ambulance? A hospital? Did she give birth-What? But she was still 19 years old and never touched a man's hand! The baby's cry grew louder, almost piercing her in the ears.

Was it even possible for her to remain conscious even though she couldn't open her eyes? She tried lifting her eyelids, but it remained glued shut, as if this impenetrable force was clamping down her eyes, telling her not to look.

A waft of air blew on her chest.

"[Papa! Look at them! Twins!]"

A woman's voice rang out loudly, but her tone was soft and melodic as the sounds of humans floated into her ears.

'...Japanese?'

"[Ah, but one isn't crying.]"

A man's voice rang out this time in front of her as she tried deciphering the words with all her experiences of watching anime for over 10 years. Crying? Did the man just say that 'one isn't crying?' Was he pointing to someone in the room?

She felt her whole world tip over before trying to flail, confusion ringing inside her mind before-

Slap!

"Waaaaaaaaah!"

'What the eff, bro?!'

She felt so sensitive-so...naked!

'Call my lawyer! I will sue you till you don't even have the freedom of speech! Lawyer! Lawyer!'

"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalw!" She yelped her syllables that couldn't pop out of her mouth and tried again.

"Wawawawa-"

Something was weird. Very weird.

"[I think we've got ourselves a little weirdo from the get-go!]"

Her butt stung as she tried blinking her eyes, gasping twice and shaking her head to wake her up from this bad dream. Her vision stung the moment she did, lights blinding her as she screamed again, trying to bat away the light with her flimsy small fists. Through her blurry vision, she saw a man grinning from ear to ear before throwing her over his shoulder and patting her on the back. She humped, dry launching from the action as the woman's soft laughter rang from behind as her own eyes closed shut again.

What did she see? She didn't see clearly, but the world was so...colorful.

"[I think I have a name for this little weirdo already!]"

Name? What name? What the hell were these two strangers talking about? And why in the hell was she able to understand Japanese so clearly? And they messed up her pronouns-and-

She tried hard, fighting her clamped eyes, 'Almost there!'

"Sawada Isago! Golden dust for my career!"

Isago slammed his eyes open, blinking rapidly at the man who was now throwing his small body into the air, his golden-amber eyes completely dazzling Isago.

"Waah da dak."

His first words were swear words in English.

She stared absentmindedly out the front porch. No, he stared absentmindedly out the front porch this fine morning. The sky was bright blue while Isago glanced at the buzzing street of Namimori, a small town located at the edges of Japan. In the corner of his eyes, he saw a small bird land on one of the tree branches before someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Isa..go! Let's play!" Tsuna smiled sweetly at his younger brother, holding up his teddy in one hand. They were at the young age of four, Tsuna being born just minutes earlier than Isago. They seemed like twins, but one preferred a shorter hairstyle than the other, and their hair was in different colours.

"Hm...sure! What do you want to play?" Isago answered like how a four-year-old should and pushed himself onto his feet. Tsuna squeezed his teddy, pondering a bit before tilting his head to the side.

Tsuna was exactly the same in the anime, with spiky brown hair and brown eyes that shone brightly in the sun, his soft features held more of some baby fat than what was portrayed in the graphics, but still, Tsuna resembled Vongola Primo.

'Definitely a descendant of the Vongola family,' Isago quirked his lips as Tsuna explained his game of hide and seek, except the purpose was to hide and find teddy.

"Sure!" Isago chirped, holding his hand out for the teddy. "I'll go first then, since you never do, Tsuna."

Tsuna beamed brightly at his younger brother, giving his teddy over before Isago pointed to a wall in the corner of the room and Tsuna plodded over, covering his eyes as he started to count down from 100. Isago smiled slightly, tip-toeing to the washroom and turning on the lights to hide the teddy behind the rows and rows of shampoo bottles in one of the cupboards.

Isago frowned a bit when he realized that he couldn't reach the board, placed the teddy on the table and walked to the toilet that was beside the sink. He stepped onto the toilet, using it as his stepping stone and slammed his small hands onto the table, heaving himself upwards. Snatching the teddy from the original spot, Isago opened the cupboard and organized the bottles as a coverup, arranging the bottles so that not even the ears of the brown toy were visible from an adult's point of view.

Isago stepped down the table, plopping quietly onto his feet before listening to the countdown from Tsuna's mouth at the number 40. Isago smiled carefully, closing the lights as his gold eyes flashed through the mirror once, and Isago made his way to Tsuna's bedroom. Mom was cooking in the kitchen and humming about dad's arrival today.

Isago had retained his father's golden eyes, and yet had a shade of mocha as his hair color. Neither dad nor mom had the hair color, but Nana assumed that it was because her predecessor's hair color was close to black in the past. In contrast to Tsuna's spiky hair, Isago had flatter hair and was long, to the point that it was possible to tie it into a semi-ponytail. He had bangs covering the front in a slanted way, almost completely contrasting to Tsuna's cute and fluffy hair. Well, not that it mattered to Isago.

What was concerning to Isago, was that he was born as a boy.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Isago heard Tsuna call from the bottom of the stairs before his small footsteps plattered onto the wood. Isago stared momentarily at the door before purposefully closing it and plopping down on Tsuna's bed. The bedsheets ruffled, crinkling a bit and Isago stared at his own crotch.

What the heck, this was so weird to have. It was so tiring to constantly have a thing dangling in between his legs. Even though it didn't hurt or feel uncomfortable, this new addition was a very mind-blowing...experience. Manspreading was also a new thing.

"Isago…?" Tsuna's face peeped into his own room and giggled before skipping over to his brother. "You must have placed teddy here!"

"I don't know," Isago replied with a small smirk. "Why don't you try and find it?"

"Teddy! Teddy!" Tsuna called cutely as if the bear was able to reply back to him.

"Tsuna, if you can find it then I'll ask mom to make your favourite Salisbury steak that she only makes when dad comes home!" Isago called as Tsuna's eyes fired up intensely.

"Steak! Steak! Steak!" Tsuna batted his fists on his crouched knees and started to chant it like some kind of song. Joy could be seen all over his face as he rustled his piles of stuff in the closet, then turned over to his desk and started rummaging in the drawers.

"Steak, steak, steaky, steak-"

Isago smiled secretly, knowing that Tsuna had no knowledge of dad coming home today. Honestly, Isago didn't know what to describe his dad. A good dad? No, he left his wife basically widowed from the moment they were born. A bad dad? You couldn't say that either.

Then again, mama never worked, so it was plausible to think that the house was bought and supplied with money from dad every year. Not to mention that the house was quite large for a family of three. Dad was probably also preparing the house to be the main hideout for the future Vongola.

"Iemitsu Sawada, huh?" Isago murmured his dad's name under his lips.

There was a reason why his dad stationed his family near the unknown town of Namimori. It was probably in order to protect them from the mafia. So in the end, was he a good dad? Isago watched Tsuna's fluffy hair swish in the lights as the sound of tires echoed into the neighborhood.

Isago lifted his eyebrows at the sound, turning his head to Tsuna's open window to see a short black car parked a few meters away from the Sawada residence. Isago stood up slowly, walking towards the window and hopped onto a small step box and leaned on the wall, crossing his arms together as he peered outside.

"Tsuna, let's rank this game harder. You have exactly 100 seconds like the countdown to find your teddy, or else the promise is off," Isago turned to Tsuna who's eyes widened like saucers, gasping before throwing his hands into the depths of his drawers.

"That's not fair, Isago!" The boy whimpered as Isago started to count the numbers from 100, forcing the small boy to sweat. Inside, Isago spotted a blond head popping out of the driver's seat.

The man was wearing orange overalls that were only pulled onto his waist. His dirty sweatshirt was worn in a fashion that showed his armpit hair clearly even from far away. The sight was disgusting.

"Men," Isago made a face, recognizing that it was his father. "66...67...68...69…"

"Isago! Slow down!" Tsuna wailed and rummaged through his toy box, tears streaming down his face at the decreasing numbers. Iemitsu pulled a construction hat out of the front side, then walked to the passenger's seat, opening the door to reveal another man wearing a blue vacation shirt with pink flowers on it.

The man stepped out of the car, smiling widely at his assistant who passed him a straw hat. As if the man noticed, his eyes flashed to the window, meeting the gaze of Isago. There was curiosity and wonder that passed through the male's eyes, but then greeted the child by lifting his hat and giving a salute which Isago returned with a polite nod.

'Vongola ninth,' Isago addressed the man quickly, curling his lips at the status before turning back to Tsuna, the numbers ending with the last count of zero.

"Isaaaagoo!" Tsuna sobbed into his long-sleeved sweater, sniffing as the sleeve soaked up his snot. "I couldn't find it-I'm sorry!"

Isago's eyes softened at the small boy, hopping down from the stepping box before crouching next to Tsuna who was on his knees.

"Tsuna, Tsuna, why are you sorry?" Isago patted Tsuna on the shoulders. Tsuna threw his arm down, staring at Isago who had a soft smile on his face.

"Be-because Isago's favorite...also steak…" the young boy blew his wet cheeks and Isago chuckled, pulling his brother into a large hug. That was not exactly true, Isago's favourite was sweet parfaits rather than savory main course meals, but Nana had never brought the two to a sweets cafe so Isago had made up his preferences to match Tsuna's.

"How about this, I'll magically transform the steak onto the table if you promise me one thing," Isago patted Tsuna who blew into his shoulder. Momentarily, Isago made a face of disgust, but once thinking that they were from the same blood, a smile was forcefully plastered onto his soft features.

Tsuna also realized his own misdoings, instantly freezing before wiping his own sleeve on Isago's shoulder, trying to correct the snot, only to make it smear even wider on the hoodie.

"I'll have to change my clothes," Isago sighed before pushing Tsuna away and walking to his own room. Tsuna followed like an abandoned puppy. His two fingers fiddled as he watched Isago pull his T-shirt off, and grabbed a random sweater before pulling it over his head.

"Mm sorry Isago…" Tsuna trailed off, staring guilty on the ground as Isago's head emerged out. "I will promise anything that you want! Forever!"

'What a dangerous promise, Tsuna,' Isago's eyes glimmered before turning towards his brother. The shadows in his room casted upon Isago's face as his grin widened almost too maliciously.

"Then promise me Tsuna, no matter what the circumstance you must not harm me. If you do, then our relationship as brothers are over." Isago's hair fell over his eyes as he brushed it back, getting a clear look at the boy's small face.

"Harm?" Tsuna tilted his head curiously at the word, repeating to make sure he pronounced it correctly. "What's that?"

"It means that I will be gone from your life forever, Tsuna," Isago's voice deepen with glee at the horror that flashed through the boy's face. Tsuna's hands instantly clutched the sides of his shorts, shaking his head furiously.

"I will never harm you! I will never! Never!"

"Good," Isago walked closer to his dear brother, jerking his thumb under Tsuna's teary eyes. The young boy looked fragile and broken at Isago's words, almost as if he couldn't imagine living without Isago.

"Because I love you so much that it may serve as a double-edged sword to both of us," Isago gave little Tsuna a small peck on his cheeks, smirking at Tsuna's pouting face as his fingers clutched the edges of Isago's sweater.

"I wove you too," Tsuna buried his face into his brother's sweater, murmuring the phrase until the front door was pushed open and mama's clear voice rang through the house, calling the two boys down.

It was true, Tsuna was a precious little brother to Isago, even if Tsuna was legally the older one. But that didn't matter in front of power. If Tsuna stood in the way of succession, then Isago would cut off Tsuna's arms and legs to prevent Tsuna from overtaking the throne. That was how cold-hearted Isago was.

But then again, was Isago able to do it?

That's why Isago would give Tsuna the choice. He would not harm Tsuna until his own brother decided that Isago was a threat to the family and his life. He would let Tsuna break their relationship, and make him wallow in despair. As long as Tsuna loved him, Isago would let him go. But if Tsuna disobeyed, then everything will be over.

"Come on, brother," Isago gestured towards the door, stepping forward with Tsuna holding him. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Iemitsu was grinning at both boys, arms extended.

"Weirdo Isago! TsunaTsuna! Papa is back home!"

The two boys huddled over to their papa, Tsuna waddling towards him while Isago was pulled into a large embrace, dad's hand ruffling in his hair as Isago grinned at the man. The smell of sweat and tobacco filled Isago's nostrils, instantly making him suppress a sour face at his own father. Mama giggled at the family reunion while Isago's eyes trailed to her, gesturing for a group hug.

"Oh, dear!" Mama threw herself into the group hug and Iemitsu kissed her sloppily on the cheeks, rubbing her face with fondness. It was then Tsuna noticed a stranger behind dad, smiling sweetly at the family after Tsuna opened his mouth with quivering fear.

"Oh, Tsuna! Don't worry, this is Timoteo-" Dad looked over at the grandfather figure, releasing all of us as he gestured politely at the man. "-My boss."

"Welcome!" Nana grinned, lowering her body into a 90-degree bow. "Thank you for taking care of my husband all this time!"

Isago glanced towards his mom, then followed, repeating the same words of thanks. Tsuna only stood there, confused and not knowing what to do and hid behind his mother, clutching her apron.

"Tsuna!" Mom bickered with a sigh but smiled soon afterwards. She patted me on the head as a 'good job' before apologizing for her son's imprudence.

"That isn't a problem," Timoteo said, softening his eyes at us before crouching down to our eye level. "I have to thank you for having such a wonderful father that I can trust."

'Of course, you're literally naming his son as successor,' Isago thought bitterly before pulling Tsuna out from behind mom. 'So who is it going to be? Tsuna, or me?'

Vongola ninth had to choose between the two of them because they were the only ones that would be left in the Vongola bloodline. If what Isago remembered was correct, there was more than one successor to the Vongola line, but they all died, which left Tsuna being the only one that could inherit the family.

Tsuna's hand started to quake before Isago squeezed it reassuringly, giving him a small nudge. Tsuna was still hesitating so Isago started first.

"I'm Isago, this is Tsuna, my older brother!" He deliberately said, lowering his head as Tsuna, this time, followed his younger brother's lead.

"Oh, he's the older one, huh?" Timoteo turned his gentle gaze towards the older brother and nodded. Isago pleaded that they were going to leave the throne of successor to the worthy, not the older. Isago was going to prove himself worthy, prove himself, to be a better leader than his brother.

Tsuna was not suited as a leader, maybe in the long run of taking care of his family members, yes, but Isago was more of a leader in the expanding and influential way.

'Give the role of successor to me, and I will hold Vongola to its glory. I will make Vongola the strongest in history, and it will flourish more than the past ten generations combined.'

Isago wanted the Vongola position. He wanted it desperately.

As if Timoteo could hear Isago's thoughts, the grandfather's eyes turned to the younger sibling, staring at him hard. Isago didn't move his eyes, only stared back and tried to convey the message through his gaze.

'Give it to me, I want it. I need it.'

Timoteo's gaze deepened, opening his mouth to say something as conflict passed through his face, then clamped his mouth shut. Iemitsu, sensing that something was sort of amidst, invited his boss into the house, telling the group that he was famished. Nana gasped, pardoning her forgetfulness before guiding the guest to the table.

Isago let go of the breath he held inside, looking towards Tsuna who was staring at the grandfather.