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retroellie · 2 days

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Little black dress

Summary: After wearing a little black dress that gave nothing to the imagination, Daryl decides to drag you to the bathroom and remind you who you belong too.

A/N: It's been awhile y'all! Omfg, I have been so busy writing a book that started out as a passion project but now I'm like really into it lol. But this is filth, and honestly took me 6 days to write no mf joke. It didn't really read through it so it might be messy lol, anyways miss y'all!! enjoyyy <3 (also it is so fucking long, omfg...I'm used to writing long chapters in my book HKAHKSHFJA)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, public sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, BDSM, mentions of SA (kinda?), just men being gross tbh, dirty talk

Word count: 13.7K

It had been years since you actually had to worry about what you were wearing, even longer since you had to dress presentable. But here you were, caressing every inch of your body trying to decide if your short black dress was "presentable" or plain slutty. You were teetering towards plain slutty, the way it hugged your curves slightly... showed a bit too much of your scared-up legs, you're breast perking to attention as if they were made just for it.

You examined your body, wondering what everyone would say if you showed up to something so classy wearing this. The dress code was nothing special, "Halloween costumes and formal!" the flyer said. You had nothing that would be considered either of those, maybe you're old bloodied shirts from before the commonwealth... you could dress like a walker. However, you had to look approachable... as if you were a reporter of some sorts.

You sigh softly, brushing your hair from your face as you exited the bathroom. You don't even know why you cared so much, it's not like you actually wanted to go to this stupid ball. You were only going because you were helping Connie out with her story. You promised her that you would talk to some people there, and write down their opinions of the commonwealth. You told her you would look presentable and approachable, something you didn't look very often.

"Plain slutty" wasn't a bad thing, before the fall you would dress that way on a night out anyway... But you weren't who you were back then. You didn't want all the male or female attention, especially in a new town like this. They would whisper, they would gossip... no matter how pretty you looked in your cheap dress, you knew they would be merciless.

You walked to yours and Daryl's shared room, grabbing your bag you've had since the fall... it didn't match the outfit at all but you needed something to remind you who you actually were. You placed the bag on your shoulder, turning around only for your attention to be drawn to something shiny on your bed. Your husband's knife...

"At least Daryl will be there." You thought to yourself, biting your lip softly as you stared down at the knife. This new life has been a fairytale almost, almost like the entire apocalypse thing never actually happened... like you and Daryl were just a normal married couple with normal problems. It was so weird worrying about small things again, like what you were going to wear for this stupid masquerade ball.

You two had been "married" since you became a part of the commonwealth. It was strange, especially since everyone called you "Mrs. Dixon". You had been with Daryl for around 7 years, but you weren't married. However, when coming to the commonwealth there was an option for you two to be married "legally". You couldn't help but laugh when they brought it up, there was no government, and there was no "marriage" anymore. They were dead serious though, looking as if you were crazy when you laughed in their face. But you signed the papers basically stating yours and Daryl's "marriage"... so now you guys just are.

Daryl was a security guard at the ball, leaving much earlier than you to go do his job, so he had yet to see the way the dress showed off what was his. Suddenly your mind went another way, remembering the last time you wore a low-cut shirt or too short shorts... It was a decision that had you wobbling for 3 days, kiss bitten down to your calves and completely fucked. You blushed at the thought of it, hoping you could get through the night without Daryl scolding you for the too-short dress. Maybe you wanted that... maybe you wanted to tease him.

Daryl was completely comfortable in the relationship, he had no real problem with you showing your body off sometimes. But if anyone knew how a man could think, it would be Daryl. He knew the disgusting thoughts that would go through a man's mind when they saw a woman's upper leg... He knew just how they could spin that to make it sexually gratifying. It made him sick to his stomach knowing what men think when they see you... he fucks his anger out, hard and fast just like how those men think they can do to you... only he's the one doing it.

You shook the thought away from your head, making your way down the hallway of your dingy apartment. You realized how sad and depressing your apartment was, you made a mental note to get some art or posters to hang up... you needed to make this apartment into a home, or at least something ya'll feel safe coming home to. You passed by Judith and Rj's room, peeking in to make sure everything was in check... "in check" meant there was no one or thing hidden within it. The fall had done that to you, made you cautious, and made you the type of person to make sure each room was clear before leaving. Even though you personally went through every inch of the house trying to find RJ's hat just this morning... you just had to make sure there were no changes.

You finally were able to leave the apartment after making sure the door was locked 4 times. It was a short walk to the ball, about a 7-minute walk, but with heels on it was 15 minutes. You were never much of a heel walker before the fall, you envied women who could... but you never got that walk down. You would have killed to look so classy in heels, but you never got that kind of feminine gene. So you took it slow, walking with caution as you brought down your foot for each step. You looked stupid, maybe even drunk to some of the passersby.

You finally made it though, only 10 minutes late... but you found Connie and Kelly waiting for you at the entrance. You gave them a small smile, wobbling over to them. You were super close with Kelly and Connie, ever since they stepped foot in Alexandria... you guys were insufferable. So it didn't come as a surprise for Connie to come to you first when she needed help gathering "stories", which really meant gathering dirt about Pamela. You were more than happy to do it, it was something to get you out of the house and even landed you getting an invite to the most talked-about party of the year.

As you wobbled to the 2 women, it seemed as if you took them off guard for a second, completely unrecognizable as they didn't know who you were. It wasn't until you got closer that they saw who you were.

"Y/n?" Kelly asked, almost in disbelief that you could get all dolled up like that. "Jesus I could hardly recognize you with all that... boob."

You looked down at your figure, seeing just how different it was from your usual attire. It was strange being this... naked. You started to feel a bit uncomfortable, almost nauseous as you looked down at your heels. You weren't used to attention, you were but you weren't. You are not the ugliest person out there and you know that, people seemed to think quite the opposite which you didn't really agree with. You would catch people looking at your ass while walking past them or catching a feel of your breast while hiding from hoards.

You were no stranger to that attention, hell that's even how you and Daryl became what you were. Daryl couldn't keep his eyes off your hips and your lumps... that's the only attention you wanted though. The rest of them, it didn't matter to you. You could live without it, you were over wanting that attention just to validate yourself... that was in the past for you.

"what? Is it too much?" You asked, pulling your dress up just for it to almost flash your ass to the world, causing you to pull it back down just for your boobs to pop out again. There was no winning in the dress.

You searched both of the women's faces, hoping they would say all they needed to say. Kelly's eyes were focused on your face, probably noticing the cat-eye look you were trying to do... which used to be your specialty, but now you're out of practice. She was probably not used to seeing your lips so red as well, which that part is what you were most proud of simply because you made the mix yourself. You wondered what she was thinking, maybe you should run home and put on some normal clothes. Maybe this was a bad idea and you should have just stayed home. Connie brought a hand to your arm, bringing you back to reality.

"No! You look beautiful." She signed, making you feel a bit better. "Thank you for helping Y/n."

All of your worries slowly melted away just by this gesture, making you relax a bit. As said before, Connie was one of your best friends, you even learned sign language from her. Ever since you met her, she was always so gentle with you. No one really understood your insecurities or your panic attacks or the reason why you were so damn quiet all the time... but Connie did. She read you like a book, you hated it... but it was nice to know that someone could. Especially someone like Connie who would speak up for you if you needed her to. She knew you could never stand up for yourself.

You just gave her a small smile, nodding your head basically telling her that you were okay and you could do this. It was just for a night and you've taken out hordes, you've bashed a man's head in with his own leg bone before... you can take a night in a skimpy dress, you can take the attention it will give you. Plus Daryl was there, he would kill a man for touching you if he needed to and he has before. So you felt more than comfortable walking into that door and forcing stories out of men to get dirt on their leader.

"Yeah, well I'm your girl when you need to get information out of a man." You said, trying to lighten up the mood even if you were the one who needed some lightening up. "All you need is a small waist and huge knockers, Take notes ladies."

Connie and Kelly both let out laughs, boosting your confidence a bit. You smiled softly at their laughs, looking at the doors and seeing how crowded they were getting. Women in big dresses and men with fancy little tuxedos made their way into the double doors, Some were even wearing their own handmade Halloween costumes. They all were trying to get into the door, only to be met with the security who had to pat them down for weapons and whatnot. You once again felt a wave of relief, knowing you weren't the only ridiculous-looking one there. You suddenly were so thankful for it being Halloween. You sighed softly, putting your smile back on as you looked back at Kelly and Connie.

"We should probably get in before the line gets too long." You spoke, signing as you did so.

You all made your way to the double doors, Connie's hand on your arm as a way to make sure that you knew she was there with you. You appreciated it, this was a big crowd of actual people and you weren't used to that... especially with live people. You knew this night was going to suck, you were probably going to be a nervous wreck by the end of it. But at least there will be alcohol.

“But seriously, Y/N…” Kelly’s voice cut through your distraction, drawing you away from the parade of ridiculous-looking rich people. Her eyes were fixed on you, a playful suspicion lacing her tone. “You don’t strike me as the type to pull off this kind of glam… were you some kind of model or something?"

You just let out a soft laugh, walking up the stairs to the soft light illuminating the doors. You couldn't help but let your mind linger on your past. It wasn't something you were proud of that's for sure, you were a mess. You were freshly out of high school, going to college away from home so it was pretty much guaranteed that you would be doing something you would grow to regret. You would do it all... men, women, drugs, alcohol, partying until the crack ass of dawn.

It was a time in your life that was so confusing and being around people who were half your age, you weren't sure what was right and what was wrong. That phase lasted until you found Daryl, suddenly something inside you switched. He was nothing but soft and gentle with you, at least as soft and gentle as he could be. You meant something to him and that's when you realized that you weren't some drunk college girl that men and women could tear down for their own pleasure. You were someone, and that was enough.

There had been countless nights where Daryl had to carve that fact onto your skin, kiss your soft lips until you could say nothing but who you were, fuck it into you. You had lots to work on, Daryl did too... that's what made you two such a power couple. You worked on your shit together, made sure the other knew where they stood in life... who they were and who they weren't even though multiple untrue things have been drilled into your heads. You let the thought wander through your head before coming back to the moment.

"I am full of surprises." You joke back. You knew you could tell her what you really were back then, you're confused and you're hurt... but you left it at that.

The night went too slow for your liking, not even halfway through the night you were at your limit with men and you were ready to go home. As you sat at the bar, sipping on some fruity drink one of many men had bought for you, you pulled out your notepad from your dirty bag. It was almost empty, only 3 stories collected simply because the men were too focused on the way your dress laid against your breast. You swore you talked to almost 20 men tonight and only 3 of them actually had the decency to keep their eyes to themselves and answer your questions.

Most of the men didn't want to hear you talk, they just wanted to undress you with their eyes. You gagged at the thought every single time, even more disgusted by how some of them thought it was their right to put their hands on you. You could still feel a hand on the small of your back or placed softly on your hip. This dress started to feel like not a good idea and you should have caved into your desire to change into something different. You will say, that at least a lot of the men bought you drinks... you could have only gotten through this night with "Sex on the Beach" and "Strawberry Daiquiri". You would much rather have whiskey if you were being honest, you had been hanging out with Daryl too much.

You started to read through the notes you wrote down, jotting down some keywords in their stories so Connie could rearrange them for her story against Pamela. You were almost halfway through the second story and your 3rd Strawberry Daiquiri when you felt a hand on the small of your back once more.

"My, my... ya here all by yourself sweetheart?" You heard a deep voice say, you could almost feel their breath on your neck.

You jumped at the sudden touching, yelping as you turned around in the spinny bar chair. You were ready to swing on the perpetrator, you were too frustrated and grossed out to have another man try to get into your pants tonight. You lifted your hand up, ready to slap the shit out of the man... only for your hand to fall back down as soon as it went up.

It was Daryl. His shit-eating grin spread on his face as he chuckled softly at your sudden burst of violence. Little does he know, he's not the only guy tonight to say those same words and touch the same spot just above your ass. You would probably tell him later, but for now, you kept it to yourself... you knew he'd be furious, probably dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you till you couldn't walk properly anymore. The more you think about it, the more you want that to happen.

You sighed softly, closing your eyes softly and leaning against the bar. You were so glad to see him though, you hadn't seen him all night. You tried looking but you were far too busy trying not to get groped by old men or beat up by their wives. You knew this night would have been 100% better if you found Daryl earlier, he would have really made the night somewhat fun or maybe at least been your bodyguard.

"Not alone... My deadbeat husband is somewhere around here." You joke, turning back around to face your notes.

You could hear Daryl chuckle behind you, he set himself between you and the empty chair next to him. He looked down at your notes and your 3 empty cups, he knew these were not your first and definitely not your last drinks of the night... then his eyes trailed down to your dress. You had told him you would be here and what you were doing here, but he didn't know just how you were going to show up. The dress was going to get you in trouble, especially with the way that it caused Daryl's pants to tighten.

His eyes drifted down your body, the sight of your almost bare breast made him almost choke on his own tongue. Daryl watched as you brought the last bit of drink from one of your cups, watching you slurp it down. He let out a soft cough, clearing his throat as if it would clear the thoughts of what those lips could do.

"Deadbeat, huh?" he started, watching you bring the cup back down to the bar counter. You licked your lips, getting every ounce of the alcohol from it. "Well then, your deadbeat husband should be ashamed of letting you go out in something like that."

He brought his hand up to touch the fabric of it softly, placing his hand on your hip and giving it a soft squeeze. You tried to stay up straight, even if the alcohol was creating a glorious feeling between your legs that made you feel like you could melt into his touch. Even the smallest of gestures from Daryl could have you at his feet, just the tiniest softest touch could create a fire deep within you. You were feeling bold tonight though, maybe it was just the 7 drinks you had but something within you burned with the need to be devoured.

You bit your lip softly, feeling the loose skin that resided there. You looked up to him, eyes full of lust. Daryl couldn't help but feel the same kind of fire erupts in the pits of his stomach. Your glazed-over eyes, the smell of the pure alcohol that he knew was affecting your ability to think, the way the black dress was still on you even though he wanted it off. You leaned in close to him, his hand still wrapped around your hip softly.

"if only he was here to put me in my place." You spoke, words flowing off your tongue like honey.

Daryl let out a soft breath, his clothes suddenly feeling so constricting against his skin. He never knew all he needed to do was get a couple of fruity drinks in your system for you to be so... feral. It made all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock, making the head of it rub up against his jeans so uncomfortably. You were everything but a perfect angel... you knew how to talk dirty, you knew how to get Daryl's cock up and ready to pound into the first hole he could get to. But something about the way your tits looked in your dress and every single man wanting to tear you apart with their bare teeth... and yet you only wanted Daryl to fuck you in the ways only these men can dream.

Daryl looked around, being sure of his surroundings before making any stupid decision he knew he would make with you. No one was paying any attention to him... some of the men you talked to earlier were still trying to catch a peak, hoping that maybe your thighs would spread wide enough so they could see just in between them. So they could store it in their minds and use it for spank material when they need a little push. That made Daryl's breath get heavy, hands shaking slightly on your hip as you leaned closer into him... he could smell a hint of your perfume and it was giving him a slight high.

Daryl looked back down at you, seeing your soft stare... watching your eyes move down his body and then back up to his eyes. Daryl placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing it softly as he debated on dragging you somewhere more private. His lips ached, his cock already leaking with need... if anything could make daryl dixon be reckless, it was you. He almost gave into you, almost engulfed your lips with his, and made you whimper... made you his in front of everyone. However, something caught his eye... his abandoned post.

He was supposed to be guarding the door, making sure no one else came in, and making sure everyone was on their best behavior. Rosita was there, on one side of the door as she too watched the dance floor. He had a job to do, a very important one that would have you both moving up in life if he did it right. He shouldn't even have left in the first place, but something about the way your thighs looked from afar... he found himself stalking towards you just to get a better look at them. He let out a soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before he retracted away from you.

"Ya look beautiful sweetheart..." He said simply, giving your body one last glance before stepping away from you completely. He could feel your energy fall slightly as you groaned at the loss of warmth... your dress did nothing to cover you up, so his warmth was appreciated. "I gotta go do my job, I just wanted to see you before I got too busy."

You wanted to pout, you wanted to kick your feet and scream like a child... that's how drunk you were, you would beg for him if he wanted you to. You didn't find that fair that Daryl could get you going, put his hands on you, and warm you up just to pull away like it was nothing. You were too drunk, too cock starved, too horny to let him leave you like this. Your legs were wobbling already, you're cunt throbbed and every time you would move your legs it would create irritating friction that you wish were from his fingers. You sighed softly, not done with this just yet...

"Well that's too bad..." You said, hopping down from the bar stool. Your dress came up a little too high, showing just below your ass. You pulled it down, which once again caused your breasts to pop out... but this time you wanted them too. You watched as his eyes focused on them. "I'm wearing my best panties... I was really hoping someone could help me put them to use."

You sighed dramatically, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. Daryl gulped back a comeback because there was nothing good that was going to come out of his mouth. He was torn between two nasty names.... some of the most degrading names he could think of. All he wanted to do was slam you against the bar counter, tell you how fucking slutty and how much of a fucking whore you were... 2 things he knew you loved, he knew it made you weak in your knees just thinking about it. But he had to keep it cool, y'all were in public and he would like to keep those names between the two of you.

You stepped up to him, looking down at his obvious erection... you smirked to yourself knowing just by your words you did that. You looked back up to his eyes, reaching up to adjust the buttons on his shirt and patting his shirt down. You could tell just by his eyes what he was planning on doing to you, you could tell you were in trouble. You leaned up to his ear, standing on your tiptoes just to make sure he was the only one to hear.

"I will be in the men's bathroom if you need me..." You whispered, pecking his cheek with your lips just as he did to you. You swear you could see his eyes twitch, his anger rising within him as you teased him softly. You gave him a soft smile. "I hope to see you soon, Mr. Dixon."

You said, teasing him even further and not giving him any time to even react to your words before you walked away. You could feel some eyes on you as you walked away, except they weren't Daryls... they were the countless men that weren't Daryl, their eyes boring into your skin but you paid no attention... they weren't your target audience right now.

You were able to slip into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing, which was tricky since every man and women's eyes were on you the entirety of the night. You knew you would get some attention but the amount you got was overwhelming... you forget sometimes that a lot of these people have been in the commonwealth since the fall, most never experiencing the horrors just outside of their walls. So when a woman who is covered in scars speaks so confidently to them, it is intriguing. Not to mention the way your body curves, how it dips and stands out so perfectly. Not a lot of women in the commonwealth have that kind of "fighting for your life" kind of body type.

You open the door to the men's bathroom, slipping in before anyone notices you even did. You choose the men's bathroom simply because you knew it would be easier for Daryl to slip into and away from his post for a bit, allowing him some time to fuck the shit out of you. Luckily the bathroom was empty but you didn't spend too much time making sure since you knew someone could walk in at any minute, so you entered one of the stalls and locked it.

The bathroom was one of those nice ones you see in fancy restaurants, the stalls were almost like little rooms that only held a toilet and a trash can. The walls surrounding the toilet were painted a cream color and went all the way to the ceiling down to the floor. These were the types of bathrooms that were perfect for fucking if you're being honest, I mean the privacy... it was almost as if they were made for horny couples who need to let some steam off.

You sat on the toilet, imagining all the possibilities and positions you could find yourself in the small confinement of the 3 walls and door. Your eyes locked themselves on the door which was the only "stall-like" thing in the small area. There was a large gap between the door and the floor, making it so you were able to see the shoes of people who walked by. Luckily you could see none, but the anticipation of seeing those black boots with the mix-match shoe laces... Jesus, you hoped he would come, you didn't even give him time to answer.

In this moment, the anticipation and the hope you don't get caught brought you back to when you and Daryl started seeing each other. while on runs or even around the small time you and the group were on the road... Daryl would get sexually frustrated from watching you, his cock rock hard and eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He would grab your shoulder, bringing his mouth as close to your ear as he could... growling into it that he needed you, ordering you to go to a secluded area and "wait like a good girl" for him. You were so needy for him that you did exactly that, sometimes waiting an hour before he showed up and fucked you into the dirty ground.

That was around the time when your relationship was kept hidden, Daryl's choice. He told you it was because of the 15-year age gap between the two of you, he was worried about the things that would be said about the two of you. It was strange for a 37-year-old man to be romantically involved with a 22-year-old. But deep down you didn't believe his words, you subconsciously knew it was because he didn't want to get close to you. He had this thing with trust, so it came natural for him not to want to trust you at first... he was okay with just fucking you and leaving you limp on the forest floor. However, somehow along the way... he fell so deeply and utterly in love with you, that now he feels ashamed if he has to hide you.

Suddenly, you were pulled from your thoughts when the bathroom door opened. A slight tingle made its way through your body and it wasn't the good kind. You placed your feet on the toilet along with your body, hoping the person didn't see your high heels, and called security to come to escort the woman in the men's bathroom out of the ball... that would be embarrassing. You heard the person's heavy footsteps, not able to see their shoes because of the walls of the small bathroom covering your view. You held your breath, trying to keep yourself quiet as the person made their way to the stalls.

You listened closely to the steps, hearing them walk closer and closer to your stall. Questions filled your mind, did someone see me come in here? Is it one of the men who now thinks this is his chance? Am I completely fucked and was this a bad idea? Fortunately, it didn't take too long for your questions to be answered because when the two heavy-duty work boots with the mix-match shoe laces appeared between the gap of the floor... your body relaxed slightly.

You chuckled softly at your worry, realizing how fucked the fall actually left you. You were expecting Daryl yet your mind went to the worst that could happen... Jesus, hopefully, the commonwealth will ease your paranoia.

Knock

knock

Those three knocks were too familiar to you. It was the knock you and Daryl used when hunting or when you holed up in a random cabin for the night... it was just a way for you two to say "Hey it's me. You're safe.". You smiled softly, standing from the toilet and wasting no time in opening the stall door. The stall door opened to reveal your angry-looking husband, he did not look too happy about the fact he had to fuck some sense into you while he had to do actually important things, like make a living for you two. You couldn't help but laugh softly at his face, how angry he looked... you were feeling the buzz of the alcohol throughout your body and it was hitting hard. You leaned yourself against the door frame, making sure your hips stood out as you did so.

"Mr. Dixon!" You exclaimed, almost as if you weren't waiting like a little dog would for its owner... You placed a hand on your hip, head laying against the door frame. "I didn't expect to see..."

You couldn't even get your words out before Daryl pushed you into the stall, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed you against the stall door, attacking your neck roughly. The warmth spread across your body, your body going limp for only a second before you threw your head back onto the stall door you were pushed against.

"Shut up..." He whispered into your neck, biting and sucking at your soft spots. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in place as he worked his mouth on your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying your best to stay up straight as he basically touched you in all the ways you craved. It was fast, very fast as he basically speed ran trying to make you as wet as he possibly could get you. You knew this was going to happen, you basically begged for it to happen... but that doesn't make you any less surprised by his sudden touch. He licked a strip up your neck, biting your ear lobe softly before going back to leaving down your neck... you knew this was his way of marking you up, making sure the mark would show so pretty on your neck in your black dress, scaring away the men's attention.

His kisses led down to your chest, leaving bite marks here and there as he did so. You could come undone from his abuse on your neck, your body arching into him as you tried so desperately to quiet your soft moans. Daryl pushed you further into the stall door before pulling your dress down, exposing your breast to him as he softly kissed down your body. He stopped his kisses, taking a moment to take in your squirming figure and how red you had gotten from just kissing. He leaned down, taking your breast in both of his hands, and squeezed them together before sucking on your already hardened nipples. It all happened so fast, making you not only drunk but also now high off sudden pleasure. Your hands went to his hair, pulling it softly as his soft sucking on your breast sent small zaps of pleasure straight to your clit.

He went back and forth between the right and the left, squeezing one while he sucked and licked the other. Your world was spinning, not sure if it was the 7 strawberry daiquiri or if it was the way his mouth felt on your tits. You could feel yourself getting so close to the edge, embarrassingly close... he barely even touched you and you were almost coming undone in your panties. You gave his hair a particular rough pull, trying to remove his mouth from your nipple... you were too close to the edge, not wanting to cum now... You didn't want to give Daryl an even bigger head than he already has when it came to making you feel good.

"Jesus... Daryl, I'm too drunk for the foreplay, just fuck me." You whispered out, your words shakey as you shivered from the cold air brushing against your now slobbered-up tits.

Daryl detached himself from you, your hands still in his hair as he did so. He tried to hide the smile from you but trust and believe the way you were begging made his own high come to him. He couldn't tell which one of you was drunk, and he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol this entire night. You leaned against the stall door, the lock from the door digging into your back. You squirm underneath his gaze, feeling his hands make their way back to your waist. Your tits are still standing to attention, red and puffy from his kisses.

You breathed heavily, looking into his lust-filled eyes as he brought his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath fan across your face, the smell of your shared toothpaste bringing memories of the nights you would have together in your small apartment... All the nights spent bent over the sink as he rammed his cock into you, praying Judith and rj were asleep, or even the days where you two just had to be with each other. So you filled the bath, lit some candles, and spent hours making out with each other... no fucking, no dry humping, no cumming onto each other. Just you two, taking in each other's presence and exchanging saliva.

"You beggin' me?" He whispered, lips hovering over yours as he spoke. You debated on reaching up, touching his lips with yours... speeding this entire thing up. But you couldn't deny you loved a long drawn-out fucking session in a fancy bathroom.

"No..." You teased, smiling up at him as you brought your face even closer. Your eyes make their rounds from his lip back to his eyes. "Simply asking for a favor."

You had a way of getting underneath Daryl's skin in the most delicious ways, with your innocent-looking eyes and your silky smooth voice. He knew better though, he knew you were far from innocent. Not only have you done things, murderous things that to this day you will never be able to repent from... but also sexual things that have the angels crying. You have allowed Daryl to fuck you on the dirty floor of an abandoned cabin while your people were only mere inches away from you. You have fucked him while covered in blood, even going as far as to cover yourself with more blood because it turned you on so much. You have asked to be held at gunpoint while you sucked his cock, asked to ride the handle of his knife, asked to be slapped in the face until your nose bleeds.

You liked pain, you loved every ounce of it and it was heartwarming that you trusted Daryl enough to be so open with these things... but it was disgusting how you did these disgusting things with such innocent eyes. However, Daryl was a sucker, because he did everything you asked him to with a smile on his face. He never knew he held such a disgusting pervert deep down inside of him until he came the hardest he ever had while fucking you by a trapped walker. Although, with age and the further you got into the relationship, you both settled down a bit. You two were so fucked for each other, you were basically cumming at the sounds or each other's names.

"Real cute... Just asking for a favor huh?" Daryl mocked, his hand running down to the top of your cunt... stopping so he could watch your squirm. He had other plans than to give you what you wanted, you guys were already fucking in a public restroom while hundreds of people were outside.. might as well go the full mile right? "Well then, you're gonna have to ask a lot better than that sweetheart. Knees."

He didn't have to say anything more than that before you were dropping to your knees. Daryl could cum from just knowing you would do anything for him in a heartbeat, especially sucking his cock when he wanted you to. You were never the type to turn down sucking his cock, you loved watching him come undone on your tongue... you even thought he looked so much more pretty at the angle.

You stared up at him with big eyes, your lips red from you biting them and your tits hanging from your dress. Daryl hummed in contentment, reaching down to wrap a hand through your hair as you looked up at him innocently. He ran a soft hand through at first, making sure you knew you were safe with him... making sure you were okay with what was happening. You nodded softly, a way for you to say "I am okay with this". He shot you a soft smile, running a hand once more through your hair to get it out of your face.

It started off so soft, it always started off so soft because you brought out this softness in Daryl... a softness he had never known he had until he met you. But it always ended up rough, because that is how Daryl loves and that is how you love it. Daryl suddenly gripped your hair, a tight grip that had you gasping and wincing. You groaned softly, chuckling softly at his sudden outburst... you knew you were about to get destroyed and in such a pretty dress.

"Want you to suck my cock..." he said, keeping hold of your hair but reaching down to the top of his pants. He unbuttoned them, almost ripping his belt off as he did so. "Gonna cum all over your pretty little face, then maybe I'll fuck that hole of yours."

You watched up at his hands as he unzipped them, pulling them down slightly so only his cock could come out. The sight of it almost had your mouth watering, not able to think coherent thoughts as you watched it twitch slightly. It was rock hard, the tip already covered in precum and flush red as it desperately craved friction. You knew your teasing left him desperate, and needy for your touch… but it’s as if you hadn’t touched him for days which was not true. You could not keep your hands to yourself around Daryl, so fucking was an everyday thing.

Daryl watched your eyes go wide at the sight of it, his grip on your hair tightened which pulled your attention away from his cock and back to his eyes. He couldn’t help but pump himself a few times, more precum dripping from the tip as he did so. You smirked at him which told him you weren’t done with your teasing.

“Is that any way to speak to your wife?” You asked, your words making his cock twitch even more. "Bet none of those men out there would ever talk to me like that..."

As said before, you had this way of getting under Daryl’s skin… and a little part of you enjoyed the way it affected him. It caused this fire within him that you were able to see from the outside, it was a small change in his demeanor, a small twitch of his eye that was probably only noticed by you. It was that small change that had you slightly terrified but completely and utterly exhilarated. That is the main purpose you teased him the way you do, just to see that small fire build up inside of him until he couldn't take it anymore and he just snapped. You were able to get him into so many dirty positions with that fire, so many nasty things just because of your teasing words.

Daryl's hands shook slightly, a slight hint of jealousy coursing through his blood. He gripped your hair harder, pulling some of it out, as he tried to stop his hand from shaking so much. He pulled you closer to his cock, causing a soft yelp to escape from you. His cock was now laying on your cheek, twitching softly.

"Well, those men don't know you like I do..." He said, pumping his cock one last time before setting his hand on the base of it. "They don't know my wife is a horny sex fiend who can't shut her fucking mouth... open."

You didn't have to be told twice, your mouth opening, and Daryl didn't give you any notice or any warning before he shoved his cock almost completely into your mouth. You held back a gag, feeling the head of his cock in the back of your throat already. Daryl kept your head in place, watching you fight with the urge to gag and recoil back from his cock. He can not deny how much pleasure it gave him to see you in pain, obviously the good kind of pain. The consensual pain that you allowed him to give you and enjoyed every single bit of it.

Daryl stayed still for mere seconds, allowing you to get used to the feeling of a cock in your mouth. You eventually allowed your throat to relax, looking up at him with your watery eyes as you went further down his cock. You wrapped your lips around him, staring him right in the eye as you took his entire cock in your mouth... until your nose was buried into his happy trail. Daryl almost collapsed, seeing the bulge in your throat... he could cum down your throat at this moment.

"good girl... good fucking girl." He said, trying his best to keep you like that for a couple more seconds so he could burn this image in his brain for later use.

He knew that you would be giving him that shit-eating grin that you usually give him when you get a big ego... but you couldn't since his cock was down your throat and you were loving every second of it. Once Daryl stored every single detail of how angelic you looked right now, he pulled your head back with your hair. As he pulled back your head, his slobbered-up cock was revealed... this would be another thing he would store in his mind for later.

Daryl didn't keep your head off his cock for long before he slammed your head back down on his cock, once again forcing his cock down your throat and causing you to want to gag again. You couldn't get used to it this time, you weren't able to stop yourself from gagging before Daryl pulled your head off his cock once more but like he did the last 2 times... he forced your head down on his cock once again. You couldn't help but feel your cunt flutter away as your throat was burning slightly. It was a delicious kind of burn, the taste of his cock making its way down your throat.

before you could even almost gag for a 3rd time, Daryl pulled your head away and then slammed it back down. Now his movements were quick, his cock massaging your throat as you just kept your mouth open and your lips wrapped around his cock. You dug your knees into the bathroom floor, your hand holding onto his thighs as you allowed him to use you like a literal sex toy. You felt so degraded, so disgusting... but you wanted more, you needed more. The feeling of someone walking in excited you even more, knowing that any of those men from earlier can walk in just to relieve themselves and be met with the sounds of gagging... gagging from the woman that they wished would do the same from them.

The thought of that alone, the look on their face as they realized what the gags actually were. The cold sweat that runs through their bodies, the red tint that spreads across their cheeks, the inevitable boner that pops up simply because they imagined how you looked while doing such a disgusting thing. You didn't mind someone walking in and that alone left a sense of shame within your stomach, you begged for it really. You knew it could lead to Daryl losing his job, knowing how they would look down on him because he left the partygoers he was supposed to be protecting so he could get a blowjob from his wife in the bathroom. But you would risk it all. The sudden burst of shame and excitement and complete lust caused you to bob your head along with Daryl's hands. Setting your hands on his ass so you could force him into your throat yourself.

"God... fuck, such a fucking whore huh?" Daryl moaned, keeping his hand entwined with your hair. He looked down at you, watching you work his cock in and out of your throat like it was nothing... your slobber dripping from every crevice of your mouth and onto your already spit-covered tits. "Ya like my cock in your mouth, the only thing you're good for huh?"

The degradation of it only made you speed up your movement, the sounds of your choking and gagging filling the air completely. You kept your eyes on Daryl, watching as he finally pulled his attention away from you and lost himself to the feeling. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he tried to steady his breathing. You looked up at him like he was some kind of god and in this moment... he was to you. You would have licked the floor he walked on if he asked you, in this moment and in any. Daryl was the closest thing to god you have ever believed in, because how can someone so fucking perfect be real? He must have been made from everything good in the world, like candy or fresh laundry.

You got too ahead of yourself, feeling Daryl pull your head back roughly as your rhythm becomes too sporadic, too messy. Daryl pulled your head completely off his cock, a string of salvia was now the only thing connecting you and him now. Your throat burned, it ached as you coughed softly... trying to catch your breath as you waited for what he was going to do next. When Daryl was in these moods when the fire sparked within him, he was unpredictable and that made your liquids leak from your cunt.

Daryl had a plan to destroy you completely and he was going to go through with it. You weren't going to be able to talk to another man without thinking of what Daryl would do if he saw you... you won't be able to speak for the next few days to come, or walk, or get out of bed. He was going to completely fuck you. Daryl took the base of his cock once again, placing his cock back on your cheek... watching it cover your face in your own saliva. You chuckled softly, closing your eyes as his cock drenched your face with spit. That soft chuckle made Daryl's blood heat up again, he didn't want you to laugh... he wanted you to beg for his mercy, cry so hard that you could barely speak, he wanted you to be a ruined puddle on the floor.

"Sit on your butt, head against the wall." He demanded, pulling your hair back and giving your face a harsh slap as a way to tell you that you would regret it if you didn't.

You did what you were told, sitting flat down on the floor and laying your head back on the stall wall. Daryl moved closer to the wall, so one of his hands was resting on the stall. There was only a small gap between the wall and Daryl, you between the both of them. Daryl's cock slid across your face once again, his hand pumping it softly as he made it so you were between his legs.

"Tap on my thigh if you need me to stop." He said softly, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. He was planning to destroy you, but if you genuinely needed him to stop he would in a heartbeat. "Okay?"

You nodded, repeating back a little "okay" before giving him a soft smile. You adjusted yourself so you were closer to his cock, sitting so you were face to-face with it. You were so ready... your mouth begged for it.

"Alright, sweetheart." He reached down, pulling your mouth closer to his cock as he bent his knees slightly. "All you gotta do is keep your pretty little mouth open for me alright?"

You nodded, opening your mouth once more. Daryl smiles, watching you so eagerly waiting for him. He let you catch your breath for a few more seconds, not wanting to completely overwhelm you all at once. But before you knew it, Daryl's cock was back in your mouth... his thrusts started slow. He allowed you to get adjusted to his cock once more, choking slightly as it hit the very back of your throat.

He didn’t wait too long though, after a few soft thrusts he didn’t go so nice on you. His thrusts became rough and fast, his cock slipping in and out of your throat, making your head almost bang into the stall every single time. As his cock assaulted your throat, hand wrapped in your hair as he used it as a way to keep your head back so he could fuck your throat until it ached, he imagined the way the men looked at you.

He saw you from afar all night long, watching you closely as you collected your stories. You pulled your dress down throughout the night, your tits looked heavenly under the softly yellow light. Then you would pull your dress up, revealing skin inches away from your lace black underwear. It was almost as if you were playing with him, making him a hot mess at his post. Then there were the men, all looking everywhere but your eyes... trailing down to the necklace he had found for you, but not staying there very long before looking directly at your tits. They had no shame, they slowly undressed you with their eyes and you knew it.

His thrust became even faster, your nails digging into his thighs and your eyes watered... Your choking and gagging only egged him on more as he violently banged your head into the wall. You loved every second of his abuse, throat throbbing and raw but so was your cunt. You were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction. You would even go as far as to say... you were just as close as Daryl. You could cum from the sight of him alone, that's all you needed for your cunt to feel satisfied.

You could sense his orgasm nearing, his moans started to intertwine with your gagging and choking. He had to keep his hand on the wall to balance himself as his legs started to shake violently, thrust getting messy as you started to lick the vein of his cock so softly with what control you had, his hand gripping your hair roughly. If his cock wasn't in your mouth right now, fucking your throat till it bled... you would be begging him to cum down your throat, wanting to taste his salty seed as he came undone from fucking your face.

"So fucking close baby... so close." He groaned softly, trying to keep his voice below a whisper but the feeling of your velvet throat made him lose control of his own voice. "gonna fucking cum."

You hollow your cheeks, closing your lips around his cock and running your tongue down his shaft. You could feel his cock twitch on your tongue, basically begging to cum. Daryl continued his fast, rough thrust... the knot in his stomach was thrust away from bursting and you did everything in your power to send him over the edge, you craved to see the way his face contorted into pleasure as he came... how his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth opening into a slight O shape, his entire body shaking softly.

Suddenly, just before his breaking point, Daryl pulled his cock out of your mouth. You couldn't help but whine softly at this action, your throat needing to feel his warm cum slide down it. Daryl took his cock in his hand, pumping it at the same pace he was fucking your throat. It only took him a good 3 or 4 pumps before hot strings of cum shot out of his cock, landing directly on you. He milked his cock, watching as it spurted on your cheeks, your nose, almost into your eye but you closed them before it could.

"Fuck..." He let out, huffing as he leaned against the wall... his cock still in his hand as it twitched, almost overstimulated now.

You stayed underneath him, your cunt throbbing in your panties. You were sticky with Daryl's cum, with your own spit, and your sweat. You felt disgusting, you felt so disgusting that not even 10 showers could wash away this feeling... this degrading, embarrassed feeling. But somehow, your cunt still screamed for Daryl's abuse. You looked up at Daryl, his cum now dripping from your face as you did so. He looked so tired, so out of it as his orgasm still sent soft shocks down to his cock. You've noticed as he's gotten older that he has had to take more time to recover from his orgasms, it really takes it out of him.

You remembered when you first started fucking him, Daryl wore you out before he could even think about stopping. After every single nut, he would be hard all over again. It was heaven, but also physically draining. Now in your older age, you would much rather 2 or 3 long drawn-out rounds more than multiple quick fucks. Your and Daryl sexual relationship has come a long way, from quick fucks to long passionate, and kind of perverted sex. It was kind of sweet to you in a way, how you both experimented with each other and picked and chose what you liked and what you didn't. It was something no one in the past would have done for you, it was why you "married" Daryl in the first place.

"So beautiful..." Daryl said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was caressing your face, wiping away his own cum while he did so.

You blushed softly, leaning into his hand... kissing the palm of it softly. Daryl was always so nice afterward, so gentle and sweet. Nothing like he used to be, so distant and cold... not even helping to clean you up. However, as sweet as this moment was... in a weird and fucked up way, your cunt still throbbed. You still needed your cunt stuffed, still needed it fucked raw to match your sore throat. So you dug deep into your chest, trying to find your voice and force out of your beaten voice box.

"Are you up for round 2 or are you gonna need some time to recover?" You teased, your voice raspy and almost barely there as your throat was quite literally broken.

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle, placing his head on the hand that was keeping him upright. Daryl was never the type of person to leave you all high and dry, even if you truly deserved it. He would always give you what you wanted, only he would give it to you over and over and over again until you begged him to stop. He loved watching you cum as much as you loved to cum, so he couldn't deny you the very thing he held dear to him.

Daryl finally was able to get his legs to stop tingling as much, pushing himself off of the stall wall. He now stood inches away from you, just needing to see you in your entirety. You were drenched in his cum, legs sprawled out and shaking on the dirty bathroom floor, your tits hanging from your dress, your hair matted to your forehead and neck... you already looked so destroyed, but you wanted more? He could never understand the pleasure you got out of being destroyed, he loved it too... but being in such degrading positions? Maybe that's why he was the one giving it to you.

He reached his hand out for you to grab it. You did it in a heartbeat, struggling to stand up but balancing on his arm as you did so. He took you softly into his arms, holding you up with one arm as he wiped more of his cum off your face. He slowly brought his knee up to your cunt, you gasped softly as it made contact with your puffy clit. You wanted to move your cunt up and down it, feeling the delicious friction it would give off... but you knew how much of a dick Daryl could be and how easily he would tease you, denying you of his actual cock.

"Old man huh?" He chuckled, still holding you close to his chest. He could feel your heartbeat in not only your chest but also your cunt that was throbbing against his knee. "I'll show you an old man."

He suddenly turned you around, shoving you into the stall door so your face was flat on it and your ass was pushed out. You yelped as he did so, feeling his hands pull your panties down... he wasn't going to take it slow with you this time, he wasn't going to ease you onto him and let you adjust yourself. No, he was going to continue to teach his lesson... make sure it was carved into your brain that what's his, is his, and if you allow another man to look at you like a hungry bear would to his prey... you'll know what happens.

Daryl pumps himself in his fist a couple of times, getting his cock hard again before lining it up to your cunt. You grabbed onto anything that you could, preparing yourself for the devious stretch that you begged for the entire time he fucked your throat. Daryl collected the slick from your dripping cunt onto his cock, making it nice and wet... as if he needed to, your own spit was still covering it. He teased your hole, putting the tip of his cock inside before dragging it down once again. He was trying to tease you, make you feel an ounce of what he felt the entire night with you prancing around in the slutty dress that was now bunched up around your waist. You subconsciously bucked back on him, trying to fit his cock inside your needy cunt... but he held your hips in place, gripping them so painfully that you could feel it throughout your entire body.

He kept this motion up for only seconds before he got tired of it, he got tired of your whines and your pleas, deciding to give you what you craved. In one swift movement, he slammed his cock inside of your wet folds, bottoming out in one thrust as he did so. This action made you moan loudly, almost screaming when you felt the sudden stretch of your cunt around his cock. Daryl revealed this noise, like it was his favorite song... making you scream from pleasure, making you feel so good you didn't care that hundreds of people were just outside of this door... some of those people being the family you have gathered along the fall.

Daryl didn't waste a second, doing the same thing to your cunt that he did with your throat... he pulled his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. You could feel his cock in your stomach, moving around your organs as if it was meant to be in there. You don't think you will ever get used to the size of his cock, because each time you both fucked you would always have to get used to the shape of him all over again... and each time it took you off guard. His cock was merciless, nails digging into your hips, cock buried so perfectly into your cunt... it was pure light.

You were so lost in pleasure, your moans just dripping from your mouth and Daryl allowed it... he was far too lost in his own pleasure to mind. You hoped that the loud music playing just outside would cover the noise and since no one had come running in to make sure you weren't being murdered yet, you felt it was doing a good job of covering up the noise. Daryl kept up his harsh thrust, one hand coming up to your hair to pull your head back so he could attack your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, causing your body to go almost limp... balancing on Daryl's cock was the only thing keeping you upright.

He watched your eyes roll back into your head, face flush red as he pushed himself further into you as if there was any room for him to do so. He reached his hand that was placed on your hip, sliding it down to between your thighs... rubbing your bundle of nerves slowly. He knew you were close, he knew you could have gotten off his cock down your throat alone.... so he knew you wouldn't be able to hold on very long from his cock being deep inside you. He touched, licked, fucked every single spot of your that he knew would send you off the edge, he was proving pretty successful with it too.

But suddenly, all his movements stopped and so did the entire world for a second. While you were lost in your pleasure, the bathroom door was slammed open and voices now replaced your moans... engulfing the bathroom with their noise. You were too lost in your own pleasure to notice, your moans still slipping through your mouth and your hips trying to once again buck back into his. Daryl however was now in his "security/guard" mode now, reaching up with his hand to slap it around your mouth... pulling you flush to his chest. You gasped into his hand at the sudden action, eyes widening as you felt his cock dig deeper into you. Even though that was not Daryl's intention, it still caused his cock to twitch inside of you.

"Shhh." He cooed, his mouth hovering over your ear.

But how could you be quiet when Daryl's cock was so deep inside of you, how could you be quiet with how close his body was to yours, how could you be quiet when you could smell his toothpaste and the college he wore. but you obeyed, knowing that if you did then maybe you would get a mind-blowing orgasm out of it. You could hear two sets of footsteps, they sounded heavy... almost like 2 men. IT would make sense, if you were in the men's bathroom... You couldn't hear what they were talking about, you could hear them but you couldn't understand them with Daryl's cock grazing your g-stop.

Daryl peaked through the small gap between the wall and the door, watching the men through it. You could tell by the way his eyes relaxed slightly that the men had no idea you two were in here, that they were lost in their own conversation to pay any attention to the stall you two had been hidden behind. Daryl took a step back, pulling you along with him... his movement caused his cock to almost slip out of you, but him pulling you close to his made it once again thrust inside of you. You squirmed against him, his free hand keeping you still.

"Did you see that girl...uhh she had that black dress on? She was going around interviewing people about how they like the commonwealth?" One of the men said, you could hear him unzip his pants as he did so... soon after the trickling of urine could be heard.

"Dixons girl? yeah, I saw her alright." The other man said, his voice almost laced with lust.

You froze at the mention of you, more specifically how you were labeled "Dixon's girl". You had a name and you even gave it to them, fucking assholes. If it were any other time, you would correct them with a fist through the teeth and a knee to the groin... but right now, you were too occupied getting stuffed by Daryl's cock. Your senses were completely filled with Daryl, your cunt full of him... it made it hard to think any coherent thought, especially with how his cock pulsed inside of you, rubbing you from the inside softly.

"Dixons girl huh?" The other man chuckled, finishing up his business as he did so. You could feel Daryl's ego grow a bit, especially with how his hips started to move softly into yours. He got such a big head when it came to you, knowing you were his. "So what's the deal with them? I mean, she's like 20 years younger than that old fuck. Does she have daddy issues or does she just like me older?"

You would have corrected them once again, telling them that you just liked Daryl. You didn't go after him because he was older or because you lacked a father... They would probably have done the same thing with what Daryl did with his cock, how it turned you into a madwoman every time he pulled it out. You huffed into Daryl's hand, which caused him to chuckle silently. This was entertaining, to say the least, this entire situation was.

"With the way she was dressed tonight, I think maybe she's just a whore." The man said, causing your blood to go cold. "Maybe Dixon was just lucky enough to be the first guy she fucked."

You loved being degraded, you loved being called a whore, you loved being told you are nothing but a hole for a man to cum in... but only when Daryl said it. It was like when it came out of another man's mouth, it sounded so wrong and so degrading but in a not good way. Daryl had a way with his words that made it sound like pure honey, like candy dripped from his lips and you couldn't wait to get a taste. Daryl felt this too as if your genuine degradation actually affected him... like he could feel it flowing through his veins too. Daryl thrust his cock into you, trying to make you forget what they were saying, making you present with him instead of them.

"She seems like the type. " The man replied, the sink running as he said. Daryl once again thrust his cock into you, the knot in your stomach coming back. "Those outsider girls, man, I hear they let you do some weird shit to them."

One more sharp thrust from Daryl, his hand pressing harder on your mouth so they wouldn't hear your moans. He let his free hand roam down to your clit once more, rubbing it in small tight circles. To him, Daryl thought that maybe if you were too focused on your nearing orgasm, you wouldn't let the words of disgusting men get to you... he was slightly right because after that last sentence, their words turned to just background noise. You could feel yourself giving in the pleasure, you threw your head back on his shoulder, your back arching as you pressed your ass more into him so the gaps between your bodies were nonexistent.

"Damn, I might have to pay a visit to Dixons girl huh?" The man chuckled, the sound of zipping pants and water filled the air. "You think she'd take us both at the same time?"

Daryl's thrust started out as a way to comfort you in a way, but now with the venomous words these men were letting out... he was doing it out of anger, and jealousy as they talked so grossly about his wife. His thrusts were deep, and rough as he imagined what he would do to these men when he got done with you. How he'd cut off every single finger of one man's hand as the other watched. How he'd slit the throat of the man who even asked that stupid question in the first place, basking in the way his blood sprayed on him.

You took your hand and reached back to set your hands on Daryl's hips as he dug his cock so violently into your cunt. You couldn't take it anymore, your juices had dripped down your legs, now soaking the floor as you let Daryl abuse your pussy. You gave his hip a soft squeeze, a way to tell him "Keep fucking me, I'm gonna cum." He didn't slow his movement, instead, he sped up. Hacking away at the knot that was about to explode inside of your stomach.

"If she's fucking that old redneck... shit, she should be glad we would even consider fucking her." The man spit out, heavy footsteps leading to the door as he spoke.

And that was it, those words caused Daryl to thrust so harshly into you that it broke the knot inside of you. You almost screamed into Daryl's hand, your body tensing completely, your toes curling, your vision going white as he didn't stop his abuse. He fucked and rubbed you through the earth-shattering, mind-blowing, entire life-changing orgasm. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, liquids puddling up on the floor as you came around his cock. His fingers that were playing with your clit while you came were now covered in your slick.

"I call fucking her tits first." The other man said, another pair of footsteps followed the first ones you heard... both of the men now leaving the bathroom. "You can have him..."

The door shut, silencing the men's words which were now just jumbled as you came on Daryl's cock. You heard the door click shut, suddenly being shoved against the door once again in just seconds. You were still having the aftershocks of your orgasm while Daryl thrust into you, shoving your head further into the stall door. You moaned loudly, you're an overstimulated pussy trying to reject his cock but also craving it, his hand no longer silencing your moans. He shoved his cock inside of you, over and over again until the door was shaking along with his thrust.

You could feel his anger, feel the way that he tensed... the way that those men's words got more to him than they did to you. You could tell with every thrust of his hips that he was furious. He thrust into you only a couple more times before he groaned loudly, almost growling as he felt his own orgasm consume his body.

"Gonna cum in your fucking pussy..." He spit out, his grip on your hip tightening now and you could cum again just by his anger. "Gonna fill you up so fucking good baby... so good baby."

His words filled your brain, your body still so exhausted from the orgasm. You let him use you though, let him use your body so he could fuck his anger out. It was only mere seconds before you could feel his thick, warm cum paint your walls. When he said he was going to fill you up, he fucking meant it. He gave your pussy a few more good thrusts before he drained himself completely, his body allowing his veins to fill with pleasure. There's something about anger that makes orgasms feel so much better, feel so much more intense... and Daryl was a very angry man.

Daryl's cock softened inside of you, throbbing against your walls. He kept himself in you though, allowing you both to recover from the pleasure that filled you both. Daryl leaned down, kissing your back softly as he came down from his high, rubbing your hips to ease the bruises he left on them. This night was not supposed to go like this, you two were not supposed to fuck in the bathroom of this new town you had just been welcomed into. This was behavior that you two would do in your earlier years when you were both reckless, both so horny your hands never left each other. It is comforting, how things never really change.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, brushing your hair from your face... your face still pressed against the door and still very much covered in his cum.

You nodded softly, not able to speak well because Daryl's cock really took a number on your throat. Daryl smiled softly, slipping his cock out of you... watching his cum leak out of you. It was rare for Daryl to cum in you, he was always so adamant about cumming anywhere but inside simply because....he didn't want to knock you up, kids weren't supposed to grow up in this world. But something about tonight, he wasn't worried about you getting pregnant. A part of him actually welcomed it.

Daryl stepped back from you, pulling his pants up and buttoning them back up. You straighten yourself up, legs shaking as you attempt to pull your dress down. You weren't sure if you should bring up what happened, about the men who said those things but the words left a tension between you two. The words did hurt, you did feel massively sexualized by those men and you didn't like the feeling of it. But you thought maybe you could ignore it, it will go away on its own. Daryl noticed your struggle to put your dress back on, feeling a slight twinge of sympathy.

"Let me help..." He said, reaching over to help fix your dress. Covering up your body, his hands grazing your soft skin as he did so. He too was having that debate in his head, if you two should talk about it. "You know, those men. They're dead, you know that?"

It was almost like he heard your thoughts, could read your mind, and laid out what you needed to hear. This entire night you had been sexualized, but you didn't mind it... it was just attention to you. But hearing it while Daryl was there, feeling the way it affected him as well. It made you feel so gross like maybe all you were was actually just a piece of meat to some men. You could never imagine a life without Daryl now, how respectful he was even with his degradation.

Daryl was 2 steps ahead though, he already planned on making their life a living hell. It was one thing to gawk at you in front of your face, imagining what you tasted like or how you would look butt naked on top of them... all the while you just wanted to collect stories. But it was another thing to write you up as some lust-filled woman who would give herself any man who would ask her nicely. You weren't what they made you out to be, but then again they made every woman who liked sex like they did out to be some kind of whore. You liked sex, you liked it rough... but so did they, so why were you any different?

"Don't get yourself in trouble because of that asshole diary." You said although you urged him not to... a part of you really wanted him to. Men like them deserved to be put in their place, they deserved to be made to feel just how they made women feel. Plus you wouldn't mind Daryl coming home all bloody...

"Who said I'll get caught..." He smiled, inching closer to you, and laid a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist while he did so. Daryl was good at his craft, he knew how to be careful."So, I want you to go home... Take a nice bath, make some tea or something.... maybe get some rest. And I'll be home before you know it."

He kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. It did sound so nice to just give in to sleep, especially with being a nervous wreck all night and then being fucked so hard in a small bathroom. But the feeling of Daryl going to hunt down these men, staying up till the early ends of the night punishing them for what they said... something inside of you flips, causing a small knot in your stomach to form wants more. You reached up on your tiptoes, bringing Daryl into a passionate, long kiss. This hinted to Daryl what kind of mood his actions had put you in, he pulled away when he realized... he'd already been away from his post for long enough, he couldn't go another round with you.

He chuckled softly, stepping away from you... he slid his jacket off and placed it on your small body. You were completely engulfed by it, it covered your body more than the black dress did, and you couldn't help but feel so safe in it.

"I'll leave the bathroom first, you wait a couple of minutes and sneak out. There should be a backdoor in the kitchen you can slip out of, but then I want you to go straight home okay?" He said, pulling the jacket closer to your body before setting another kiss to your lips. "And clean your face off before leaving, it's already bad enough i fucked you in here... don't need them to see the evidence of it."

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, zipping up the jacket as you did so. You did completely forget about the cum that still dripped from your face, you were covered in so many liquids that his cum was completely forgotten by you. You nodded your head, watching him unlock the stall door and slip out of it. You poked your head from it, making sure the coast was clear before you also slipped out of it. You looked in the mirror, jesus... you were a complete mess. You watched as he peeked out of the bathroom door, making sure he could slip out successfully.

"Round three when you get home..." You called out, making him whip his head around to look at you. He scoffed, shaking his head softly.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl

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lunaritex · 2 days

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CHASING REDEMPTION. . .ᐟ — kinich.

—✩ content: modern+spiderman au, established relationship, reader is gender-neutral, both reader and kinich are in college, reader knows kinich’s true identity, angst with comfort, character death.

—✩ author's note: ever since i saw this one edit of peter parker jumping down to save gwen… i knew what i had to do, except there is a small twist at the end. @kazuhaiku

Kinich swore he had planned the entire process in his mind. Everything was in place and all he needed was to be mentally and physically prepared to tell you the truth. But no matter how many plans he came up with, he did not take into account how a sudden robbery happened, resulting in him having to leap into action. He did not take into account how the robbery was not what it seems, with the robbers more than prepared to stand their grounds. They were armed with dangerous weapons that one could only obtain through illegal means.

One thing led to another and he ended up arriving hours later than the agreed time. Kinich arrived at the agreed venue for your date and he was not surprised to spot no sign of you. He pointedly ignored the pitiful look the staff threw his way when he left in a hurry. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he used his spiderwebs to zip across the sky, turning a blind eye to how some people stopped to glance at him.

It took him exactly five minutes to arrive at the balcony of your apartment. He nimbly landed on his feet, peering through the windows as his eyes furiously scanned your room. He swore his heart shattered when he saw a lump laying on the bed, covered with a blanket from head to toe.

Knock knock. Knock knock.

You raised your head when you heard someone knocking on your window, revealing your swollen eyes and tearstained face. You frowned when you realized it was your boyfriend. A part of you wants to leave him outside but you knew he was too stubborn for his own good. Surrendering, you unreluctantly crawled out of bed and moved to the window stand, unlocking the lock and slid it open. Shivers ran down your spine when the freezing wind grazed your skin.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be busy saving the city or something?” You asked, the sarcasm dripping in your tone made Kinich winced.

Normally, you would have felt remorse at how you snapped at him but you have had enough. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You can come back another time-”

“No, I know you’re mad at me and I want to talk about it now,” he interrupted.

And that was the final straw.

“It’s always all about you, you, you! When have you ever thought about me!? I bet the thought of me sitting in a cafe or restaurant, waiting for my boyfriend for hours, only for him to never turn up has never crossed your mind! Do you know how downright humiliating it is for me to leave and how I have to tolerate the sympathy glances thrown my way, as I walk out of the place? I know you’re doing a good deed by saving the city but sometimes, I wish you could set aside some time for me.”

Your voice cracked like a whip, startling Kinich into silence. The fire in your eyes was undeniable, a mix of betrayal and exasperation. He tried to respond but you didn’t let him.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It feels like you don’t even care about me anymore and this relationship is starting to feel one-sided,” your voice grew a notch softer, exhaustion evident in your voice; as if you had already given up trying to fight for something that was no longer there anymore.

“If you’re not going to say anything, then I think it’s best to end this. Goodbye Kinich and I wish you the best of luck,” you forced a teary-eyed smile at him, sliding the door closed and pulling the curtains, not wanting to see him a second longer.

Kinich on the other hand, was rendered speechless. He wanted to talk to you again but since it was clear you had cut the line, he had no choice but to respect your decision. After sparing your window one more glance, he zips away into the dark sky.

The next three weeks passed slowly. Both of you were busy preparing for your final exams of the semester. No matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, you just cannot seem to stop thinking about Kinich. Random thoughts like ‘is he doing fine?’, ‘has he eaten?’ and sometimes ‘I hope he’s not hurt again…’. You have not consulted your group of friends about your relationship but judging from how he was not constantly by your side, they already knew what happened.

Currently, you are heading home after spending hours cramped in the campus library. You were too exhausted to be mindful of your surroundings. You had no idea that you were being followed, until it was too late.

“Mphmf-!?”

Your startled shout was instantly muffled when a gloved hand covered your mouth. Your sight turned blurry after you accidentally inhaled something. The last thing you heard was a man saying something along the lines of using you as bait for Spiderman, before everything turned black.

When you regained consciousness, it took all of your willpower to not scream at how you were dangerously dangling in the air. The only thing supporting you was the rope tightly tied around your waist. Your wrists were tied and held behind your back. You didn’t dare try to move about, not wanting the rope to snap into half. You looked around, squinting your eyes as you tried to make sense of where you were through the darkness.

All you could see was long and rectangular-shaped steel bars and you knew you were on a construction site. The pockets of your jeans were empty, meaning your kidnappers must have taken your phone after you were knocked out. There was nothing much you could do, except to play the role of a waiting duck. You sighed, lowering your head to look down at the ground and for a split moment, the thought of death flew through your mind.

“Look who’s awake? Are you getting anxious that Spiderman isn’t here yet?” A sinister voice pierced through the silence.

You raised your head to see two armed and masked men approaching you, coming to a stop at the edge. One man has a muscular build while the other man was as thin as a branch. Not wanting them to know they have the upperhand, you merely remained silent and looked at them with a bored expression.

“I won’t rely on him that much if I were you. I doubt he knows that you guys are waiting for him,” you replied.

The muscular man laughed. “Hah! Nice try, kid. But we’ve managed to drop him a nice little text using your phone, telling him to meet us here at nine sharp. And if he doesn’t, then I guess you can say bye to that boyfriend of yours.”

Your blood ran cold at his words.

“I’m here now, let them go.”

A familiar voice interrupted your brief conversation. The two men turned around and there he was; Spiderman in his glory. You knew Kinich was seething with rage, judging from how his fists were clenched tightly the moment he was informed that you were held hostage. The men smirked in triumph as they slowly approached him, leaving you there to observe the scene unfold by itself.

“About time you show up. It’s time for revenge for what you did to my face,” the muscular man said, pointing at his masked face with his thumb as he pulled out a gun. You gulped when you saw how dangerous they looked.

“I don’t remember doing such a thing to you, but perhaps it might be a good thing for you,” your ex(?) replied, and you would have snickered if not for your current situation.

“How dare you! I should have killed you when I had the chance!” He roared, enraged and started running full speed at Kinich, with his fellow partner-in-crime hot on his heels.

From your vantage point, you watched with bated breath, heart racing as Kinich faced off against the two heavily-armed men. The tension crackled in the air, thick and electric. Kinich moved with a mix of agility and determination, dodging a flurry of blows while keeping his focus sharp. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he assessed the situation, calculating his next move.

Each clash of steel rang out, echoing in the stillness around them. The men were imposing, their weapons gleaming menacingly in the light, but Kinich stood his ground, a fierce intensity in his eyes. With every punch and counter, you felt your own pulse quicken. You could only watch, willing him to outsmart his opponents and to emerge from the intense battle unscathed. Just when the fight was about to hit the climax and the two men were on the verge of being defeated, the skinny man turned to you.

You watched in pure horror as he raised his weapon, aiming at the rope and fired. Whatever happened next was in slow motion. Your vision made an abrupt turn to the right, as gravity took over your body and pulled you down. The high-pitched scream you let out was not enough to describe the pure fear pumping through your veins. You made eye contact with Kinich and you could imagine the look of disbelief mixed with horror behind the mask.

“Kinich!”

You screamed his name at the top of your lungs as your body began its descent to the hard concrete ground at lightning speed. Kinich forced himself to move, dodging the poor attempts of the men trying to stop him. Just for good measure, he shot a few webs aimed at their limbs to prevent them from moving. He jumped off the edge without hesitation, reaching out his hand as he tried to grab you.

“Hold on, I’m coming!” He shouted, pure desperation heard in his voice.

With a swift, fluid motion, he shot his web toward you, the silken strands glistening in the air before they wrapped securely around your stomach. Before you could even react, he yanked you towards him, the world spinning as you felt the force of his pull. Just as you landed against him, he swung into the air, the rush of wind whipping past you. Your heart raced as he propelled you both over the danger, each swing taking you away from the chaos below.

He landed gracefully in a safe area, setting you down gently. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze—eyes fierce yet filled with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, urgency in his voice, the adrenaline still coursing through him. You nodded, shaken but alive, gratitude swelling within you.

Your entire body was trembling like a fallen leaf. Kinich gently placed you on the ground, still holding you as your legs gave way. You remained still, the adrenaline and fear of experiencing close death still pumping through your veins as he removed the web from your frame, wincing at how some were still stuck on your clothes. None of you said a word after that, unsure of what to say to break the silence.

“I-”

He wanted to speak, but you threw yourself at him, hugging him with a vice-like grip as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Kinich fumbled about due to your combined weight but he managed to catch himself before he could hit his head against the ground. He removed the gloves and pulled the mask off, placing them on the side as he returned the embrace. Your sniffles and sobs were the only thing occupying the silence and Kinich knew you were beyond terrified of what you had just gone through.

“Hey, it’s fine now. You’re safe, don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, speaking in a soft and gentle tone as he reassures you. He ran his hand through your hair; an action he knows you love by heart.

“I was so scared… I thought I was going to die…” You whimpered through your tears as you moved away from him, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“Kinich, I’m sorry for snapping at you. That wasn’t nice of me, especially when you are doing something good which is saving the city and people,” you apologized, but he shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologize. You weren’t in the wrong, in fact, it should be me. I shouldn’t have neglected you to the point where you felt like the relationship had become one-sided. I promise you that from now on, I will give you more of my time,” he gave you a small smile, reaching out to wipe away the stray teardrop on your cheek.

“But, I don’t want to get in the way of your duty,” you protested.

He merely shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure the police can handle the troubles themselves for a day or more.”

You chuckled and his features softened when he heard your laugh. You flinched when he suddenly carried you bridal-style in his arms after he stuffed his gloves and mask into his pocket.

“Now that we’re done here, it’s time to go home, shall we?” He asked, looking down at you with a loving smile.

“Indeed, we shall, Spiderman.”

#ꨄ writings #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact kinich #kinich imagines #kinich x reader #kinich x y/n #kinich x you

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b0r3dtod3ath · 3 days

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hmmm a oscar request where the reader is a rookie for ferrari this year too in formula one, and maybe the reader is the younger sister of lando, and he has an idea that she’s involved with someone but he hasn’t presssed to find out who, the reader and oscar planned to tell everyone but than oscar got a deal with mclaren so they didn’t want to say anything yet, in japan it’s oscar and reader who get their first podiums together and lando is watching the two from the bottom with his team and he finally notices the looks and smiles between his teamate and little sister and starts thinking back to many times where he saw them interact (you could do like little flashbacks and show little scenes) thinking they were just best friends but realizing it was always more than that, and lando goes and confronts them and he’s not mad but a little hurt his favorite sister didn’t tell them and maybe after oscar and reader both post on insta and hard launch their relationship

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ warnings: none.

♡ a/n: thank you for requesting and sorry you had to wait soooo looong!!!

You were always close to your brother. He supported you a lot this season since being a female rookie competing with your brother was taking a toll on you. But in the middle of the season something changed. Lando couldn’t tell exactly what happened but you seemed better - almost happier. He still supported you all the time but now you weren’t attached to his hip. At first he thought you had got used to everything around. Your teammate was one of Lando’s closest friends - Carlos. He knew you were safe.

But with time Lando couldn’t shake off the feeling that something more serious was going on. The way you were smiling at your phone only to hide it deep inside your bag seconds later and the way you would get defensive anytime someone would ask a question about your love life. Lando was happy that you felt better - you were never seen in the paddock without your new glint in the eye and a soft grin - but he couldn’t get rid of his curiosity.

Your relationship with Oscar started innocently. You were a rookie, he was a rookie. It was small things at first - a supportive pat on the back after a good session or a shared joke about Lando. Eventually your casual chats became late-night conversations and phone calls only to later transform into wine drunk confessions while sitting on the floor of Oscar’s hotel room.

The two of you value your privacy. For many reasons you didn’t want your relationship public so the love blossomed behind the closed doors. During race weekends, amongst the chaos, you two always found a moment to be there for each other. The stolen glances, whispers and secret gestures being the testimony of your love.

He often left flowers for you in your hotel room. Whenever Lando asked about them you replied with “Oh that. That’s from the hotel. It was here when I checked in”. You always took one flower or a few petals to dry and keep as a memory.

Knowing that Lando was observant, Oscar avoided asking too much about his sister and showing too much interest in you. He didn’t avoid you in front of Lando but he made sure not to spill your shared secret.

It was incredibly frustrating and tiring. Sometimes you just wished you could hug Oscar after a race but instead you had to settle for a subtle nod form across the paddock.

You and Oscar had a small argument about whether to tell your brother about your relationship. Oscar thought it would be better to tell him but you weren’t so sure. “Seriously? You think we can keep this secret from him any longer? Don’t be ridiculous.” he shook his head. ”The longer we hide it the more pissed off he will be. If the fans catch us before him, he’s gonna kill me, push me off the track or something…” he muttered.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. One side of you wanted your brother to know but on the other side you were scared. Many what ifs flooded your mind while Oscar went on about how he felt like a stupid teenager with all this sneaking around. “But you know how protective Lando is… What if he gets mad? What if it ruins your friendship? You are teammates, what if-” you anxiously went on and on as he was pacing around his room. He interrupts, his voice subtly rising “And what if he understands? What if he says it's fine and doesn’t say anything? You’re his sister! He loves you! I just don’t want to keep lying to him!”.

You grew annoyed “You think I don’t feel that too? You think I wanna hide all the time? This isn’t easy for me! I have known him all my life, he’s been there for me through everything. I can’t just walk up to him and say ‘Oh yea, by the way, I have been secretly going out with your teammate for the past four months’!” you paused to take a breath “I just need some time”. Oscar huffed at your response “Time for what? For him to find out himself? Listen, I care about you, about us. I don’t wanna hide something so important. I can wait. But it can’t go forever. We’ll figure it out. He deserves to know”.

“I know, I’m just scared…” you said looking at him. Oscar gently took your hand “I know, but we will figure it out together” he said softly. “Okay, together” you whispered, squeezing his hands.

The atmosphere in Japan was electric. It was a big race, everyone could feel it. Ferrari and Mclaren bought new updates for their cars causing the excitement to rise. The weekend was rainy but the weather didn’t stop you and Oscar from delivering your best performances.

On a Sunday afternoon you found yourself parking your car next to his and immediately getting out to hug him. You didn’t care about people around you - it was your first podium and only that mattered.

Lando looked up at the podium, seeing his sister and teammate next to each other made his heart swell. Both of you covered in champagne, standing side by side, grinning and laughing like drunk teenagers.

That’s when everything clicked. Lando’s heart skipped a beat as all the little moments flashed before his eyes. The way you had talked in hushed tones in the garage, the playful banter during media days, and countless disappearances.

During the interviews and post-race debrief Lando found himself lost in thoughts. He would occasionally glance at you or Oscar, trying to wrap his head around it. He wasn’t exactly angry, he was confused and a little hurt. He knew he had to talk to you about it.

The team was buzzing with excitement, and plans had been made to go clubbing to celebrate. Lando caught up with you in the hotel lobby as everyone was getting ready to head out. “Hey, wait a second” he says the moment he sees you. “Yeah, what’s up?” you ask, unaware of what he knows. “So... you and Oscar, huh?” His whispered tone made shivers run down your spine. You chuckled nervously “What makes you think like that?”. He shrugged, crossing his arms “Well, I don’t know. The way you two have been sneaking off together, the little smiles, the whole ‘pretend we’re just friends’ act. I might be your brother, but I’m not that stupid” he paused, watching your expression. “So, how long?”.

“How long what?” says a voice behind you. You felt weight being lifted from your shoulders when you saw Oscar approach. “Oh, nothing. I was just asking how long the two of you have been dating.” Lando says with a smirk, his gaze glued to you, definitely enjoying your embarrassed state. Oscar could feel your emotions, his hand made his way to your back to caress it - a silent way of reminding you that he’s here. “A few months,” he admits, voice steady but cautious. “We didn’t want to keep it a secret, Lando. We just... didn’t know how to tell you” he explained. “It was never about not trusting you. I was just scared of your reaction…” you added.

“Look, I get it. I’m not mad, just... annoyed I had to figure it out on my own. I would’ve preferred hearing it from you guys.” He glanced at both of you, the concern clear in his eyes “But if this is serious... then I just want to make sure you’re both happy. And that you’ll be honest with me from now on. Now let’s go celebrate, yeah?” you nodded and hugged Lando, feeling relieved.

The tree of you headed towards the car. Oscar opened the door for you and just as he was supposed to enter the car Lando pointed a finger at him. “But Oscar, you hurt her, and you are dealing with me. Remember that”. Oscar held up his hands in defense “Understood”.

@/lando.jpg

happy podium to my favourite couple

september 18, 2024

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader

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dropsnectar · 2 days

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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed.

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help.

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours.

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind.

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately.

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men.

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder.

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?”

Renas face changed into a smirk.

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?”

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked.

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate.

Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it.

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply.

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell.

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth!

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it.

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance.

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it.

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual.

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting.

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?”

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith.

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men.

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone.

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?”

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy.

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets.

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster #monster x reader #terat0philliac #teratophillia #bee hybrid #bee hybrids #bee hybrid × reader #bee hybrids x reader #monster romance #bee monster #monster fluff #fluff

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cressidagrey · 3 hours

Text

Brighten Up the Sky

This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol)

This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now.

Summary:

A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense.

Warning:

Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying

(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)

“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell.

Her sisters

Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.

But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.

Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.

“They’re well, though?”

His hesitation told her enough.

“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly.

"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.

Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now.

Only then she realised something else.

“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister.

The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with.

Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds.

Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth.

A shudder ran through her at that memory.

Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers.

"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.

A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine.

“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising.

“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”

His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.

“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?”

She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her.

She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her.

And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge.

Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away.

Her heart was now hammering.

“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”

There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."

Those words did little to reassure her.

"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed.

Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily.

The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.

But...he was right. She needed to be clean.

Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood.

Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”

Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.

Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”

Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...

To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.

But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…

“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”

“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.”

A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”

Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta?

“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.

“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that? Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…

If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?

"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?"

Rhys grimaced, shaking his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?"

If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.

"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.

"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"

Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.

Their bed.

She was home. Finally.

Rhys sighed.

“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it.

“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”

Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this.

“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly.

Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?

“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.”

Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.

“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?

Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?

Rhys winced at her look.

"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel."

Feyre’s mind was racing.

Azriel and Alana. Mates.

She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years.

“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.

“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.”

“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either.

"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated." Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.”

"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated.

"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."

Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate.

"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."

"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."

Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes.

"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."

Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.

Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either.

"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."

"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.

Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”

Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was.

“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."

It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.

“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.”

“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."

There was a knock at the door at that moment.

Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.

“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?”

Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“Feyre!”

Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.

Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.

She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…

Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.

She looked well.

That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…

Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.

She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up.

"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.

She grimaced.

Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.

It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow.

"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?”

She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.

Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.

She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat.

She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again.

I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.

The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel.

He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...

Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face.

Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love.

And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.

For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.

Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.

She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her.

Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.

He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion.

It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love.

Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer.

He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…

Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.

He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted.

Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.

She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal.

What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.

A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.

He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige.

Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.

She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently.

This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things…

Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked.

I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it…

But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying.

Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long. And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.

Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort.

So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.

Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.

You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.

I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs.

And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?

Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.

And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel.

Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly.

Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.

Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting.

It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before.

Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest.

Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister.

Feyre could just stare.

She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were.

Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know.

“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him.

Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers.

“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself.

The reactions were immediate.

Azriel growled.

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter.

It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.

“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say.

I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion.

“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.

"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"

Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them.

Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.

Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together.

"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.

Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him.

I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened.

Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation.

Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things.

It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach.

It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach.

Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.

Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue.

Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.

Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well.

That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth.

I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.

Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them.

Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked.

I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before.

Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said.

"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.

She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded.

Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight.

Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways.

I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight.

“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.

Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.

Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana.

Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.

Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.

Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips.

Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist.

"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.

Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction.

“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and Cassian actually growled at him. Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world.

“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.”

"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."

Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs.

“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.”

“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears.

“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards.

Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too.

"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"

“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his.

In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently.

"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."

“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.”

“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered.

“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”

“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.”

“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully.

It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel.

"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #Brighten Up The Sky

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nethhiri · 1 day

Text

Chapter 59: Eye Eye, Cap'n

Warnings: "medical" "procedures", Heat gets something stuck in his ass

Milling about the infirmary, you made a list of things you needed to restock on. If it were an emergency, you could probably make them, however you preferred to keep your devil fruit reserved for your prisoners at the moment. You were starting to understand Wire's preference in clothing. You had no choice but to commandeer his fit since your pants were ruined. There was no question you could have fixed those too, but once you tried on Wire's fishnets, out of curiosity, you didn't want to. Instead, you decided to add his tiny shorts, which were much less tiny on you, yet stretchy enough not to fall down. His mesh bralette-like top had to be adjusted a bit to fit your body. Once everything was on, you couldn't deny that you felt very sexy.

There was a touch of a strut to your step as you paraded around your domain. When your eyes touched the place where Kid had upset you, your step faltered. Failing to push it from your mind, your heartbeat sped, thinking about it had been causing you quite a lot of anxiety. You were still angry, but no longer seething. It was reasonable to assume Kid would be safe in your presence, however not guaranteed. You knew you would have to face it soon. All you needed from him was a sincere apology and reassurance that you were something more than easy sex. You wanted to believe it was just something stupid he had said, and it most likely was, but you needed him to say it for you to fully forgive him and put it behind you. You wished it was easier being romantically entwined with him. With Killer it seemed so easy. Why couldn't it be like that with Kid? Or was it normal with Kid, and Killer was the abnormality? Relationships, if you wanted to call whatever you had with them that, were an enigma to you.

You leaned against the counter and took a short break. You had gotten into your feelings again and needed to clear your head. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought of not being able to forgive Kid. Fuck him for making you soft. You wanted badly to go back to the way things were, but you were not going to compromise your self-worth. When you first stepped on the ship, you were fearless and confident. Lately, you had been feeling like part of that was lost when you were in captivity. You were struggling to regain it. This anxiety of being wanted and accepted was undermining your composure. Maybe that was it. Maybe caring about it was the thing that was undermining your usual confidence. Before, you couldn't have given less of a shit about the Kid Pirates, and now you gave a lot of shits.

A timid knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, fortunately.

"Yeah?"

Heat shuffled in awkwardly.

"Hey, Heat. What's wrong?" You immediately clocked his discomfort.

He seemed to look around to make sure no one else was there.

"It's okay. No one is here." You went to the door to lock it and double checked that the one to Kid's workshop was still locked. "You can tell me." As Heat approached, there was a low humming noise. "What is that noise?"

Heat faced the floor, fidgeting with his hands.

The noise emanated from Heat, specifically his abdomen. Your eyebrows furrowed, as it sounded familiar. When you realized what it was, your eyes went wide and darted to his face. "Heat!? Are you serious?"

"It was an accident. Please don't tell Wire."

"I won't say a word to anyone." You sighed. You didn't have plans to be elbow deep in someone today, but here we were. "There's a few things we can try, but let's start with the easiest."

You had him lean over one of the gurneys and drop his pants while you put gloves on, the long ones. A few other things, like lubricant and a mild analgesic cream, were also grabbed. Hopefully, that was all you needed. If it was further up, you may need to use your fruit. You stood to the side of him.

"Cold hands," you warned as you parted his cheeks enough to put some of the cream on his asshole. Then you lubed up your hand. "I'm gonna need you to relax as much as possible, hun. I'm going to see if I can reach it manually. I may need you to bear down at some points, okay?"

Heat nodded, clearly embarrassed. This is not how he imagined you inside him.

"Tell me if it hurts. Ready?" After another nod, you gently pressed a finger inside him, using the vibrations to guide you. Luckily, the vibrator he used wasn't very far up and he was lubed enough from whatever he had been doing that your finger easily reached the base. Your clean hand rested on Heat's lower back, gently patting him for comfort. "You're doing great. I think I can feel it."

Gently, you retracted your hand enough to add a second finger. You paused as he tensed, waiting for him to relax again before going forward. Holding them in a scissor shape, you grasped the base of the sex toy with your fingers. "Push. Not hard, please." When Heat neared down, the base was pushed more firmly into your grasp and you tugged just enough to make it move. "Keep doing that."

With a soft whimper from Heat and a sloppy, wet noise, the dildo was free. Heat let out a relieved sigh.

"It's a boy!" You said, presenting the lube-covered thing to him, still vibrating. "Good thing it was a skinny one." You turned it off and tossed the thing in the sink. Heat stayed still while you cleaned him up with a warm washcloth. "All done."

Heat pulled up his pants. "Thanks, Doc." His face was red with embarrassment. Half from the incident that had happened and half because he was a little turned on by it. Did he just discover a new kink? Did he like playing doctor? Or maybe he liked seeing you in Wire's clothes.

"What did we learn?"

"Tapered bases are important for a reason."

"If it happens again, I may have to give you a lesson on how to play safely." You winked at him. "Now take your fake dick and scram."

"Sorry, ma'am. Won't happen again." Heat darted from the infirmary, shoving his vibrator in his pocket so no one could see it.

You went back to what you were doing, grateful to have your thoughts filled with wondering how Heat managed to get that stuck up his ass, instead of thinking about real feelings. Mini snorted in a judgy way from her napping spot against the back wall.

"Everyone does it once! Don't bully Heat. That's my job."

She snorted again and let her head rest on the floor.

Your list was fairly long. You had used up a lot of the supplies on yourself, or they had been used on you when you were incapacitated. You weren't even sure when the Victoria would docking at an island. If you were on speaking terms with him, you could ask Kid. You could have asked Wire the previous night but you were otherwise occupied. Killer hadn't been around for a minute and certainly, you were not going to ask Heat while you were knuckles deep in him, not that you had thought about it then.

You tapped your foot, staring at a bare corner in the small room. Something could fit there. Now that you knew you could restore things, as long as they weren't rotten to the point of no return, maybe you could start saving spare parts. Kid could build you a fridge no doubt. Killer may even have an old one to spare. You could harvest the more important parts from prisoners and replace them when one of your own crew was injured. You didn't even need a refrigerator technically. You could put everything in formalin like your eye had been in, though it would take a lot more effort to get it in working order. The fridge would be better. A deep freezer could work as well. You would have to test that to see if freezing affected the parts too much.

A metallic, rolling sound caught your attention. You rolled your eyes watching silver nuts and bolts stream across the floor. Not this again. Still, you felt your face get hot. It was the little things like this that made Kid so charming when he waned to be. Per routine, you knelt on the floor, watching them form words and shapes.

COME HERE.

You rearranged them: WHY?

MISS YOU.

More like he missed your pussy. There wasn't enough material to spell that though. AND?

LO- He started to spell something and then the metal bits quickly scattered and rearranged. WANT 2 SEE U.

WHY? You arranged the pieces in reply.

This time you heard muffled yelling from the other side of the door. "OH FER FUCK SAKE, WOMAN!" It was followed by banging on aforementioned door.

"WHY SHOULD I OPEN IT?" You yelled back.

"RAGHHHH." Kid's loud, exasperated yell was followed by stomping footsteps fading away and then getting closer, but in a different place. Kid flung open the actual door to the infirmary.

Startled by the stomping, the dozing boar in the back of the room suddenly became alert and ready to defend her master. Did she "accidentally" mistake Kid for an enemy? Did she have a grudge against Kid in the first place? Had she always wanted to headbutt Kid full force? Either way, Kid was barely one step in before a flash of brownish-red flew by you. You heard a grunt and a whoosh as the force of Mini's head knocked the air from Kid's chest. You took off running after him, realizing a little too late that Kid was flying over the edge of the ship, and you were following him down. Instinct made you chase him. You were completely focused on seeing if he was okay, and not at all focused on where he was headed. You should have been laughing your ass off at the railing watching that dumbass sink until Killer undoubtedly jumped to save him, but no. You cared too much and now you were destined to sink with him.

You saw the water below explode and froth as Kid's broad body hit it. The water swallowing you whole before you could register what was happening. At least you had taken a full breath before you were enveloped by the icy, cold sea. Kid had nothing. When your hand touched something soft, you grabbed onto it and pulled closer, immediately recognizing it. At the same time, something curled around you in an iron grip. The poor visibility in the water made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you, and the salt stung your eyes. Still, your mouth found Kid's and you pushed half the air you had into him. Here you were again, always giving him something of yours, trying to prove yourself. His stupid ass better appreciate you giving him a few more minutes to realize that.

Any second now Killer would be yanking you both out. Any second now. Except you were both still sinking.

He was coming to get you both right? What if no one saw you go in? You clung more tightly to Kid's feathered cape and you felt Kid's other arm wrap around you in a protective embrace.

It felt like forever because of the adrenaline. In reality, it was only a few seconds. Your muscles started to burn from the lack of oxygen. Kid grabbed your arm, positioning it in front of you and turning it so the bottom side of your forearm was up. You stared at him, confused. With his other hand he made your head look back down at your arm and gestured for you to watch. With a finger, he wrote across your skin. You could barely see what he was writing, but you could feel it.

S-O-R-R-Y

A mix of emotions flooded you. The first was relief, followed by longing. An apology was all you wanted. The second was anger. Why did it take a life or death situation to spur him on? Then you were guilty. That probably wasn't true. You had been ignoring him and pushing him away. Maybe he intended to say it earlier and you had been too hard-headed to accept that. Lastly, you were scared. What if he was only saying it because you were near death? Did he know something you didn't? He pulled you back into an embrace, suddenly pushing you away from him after a few long seconds. What was he doing?! You stretched, reaching out for him, and were yanked upward. You tried kicking at whoever was pulling you away, losing some of the air you had left in a flurry of bubbles, but were too weak. You covered your mouth and nose to keep the rest of the air from escaping.

As soon as your head broke the surface of the water, you were coughing and gasping for air. You hadn't even blinked the water from your eyes before you were scanning for anything red in the waves.

"Where's Kid?!"

"Worry about yourself, not your boytoy." Dive's sharp teeth glistened in the sun's rays reflecting off the water as she grinned. She patted your back as a fit of coughing overtook you. "Killer's got him. Don't fret."

With surprising strength, Dive swam with you in tow. Seconds later, there was a disturbance in the water as one blond, albeit under a helmet, and one red head popped up. You held your breath with worry until you heard Kid cough as well. Dive and Killer got you both on deck with the help of the rest of the crew. You and Kid lay flat on your backs trying to catch your breaths. Your hand searched to your side until it found purchase in Kid's. Even though you heard him cough, you were relieved that his hand was warm. At least this time you didn't loss consciousness. You had woken up in this position more times than you cared to remember.

You sat up and Killer helped you to your feet, then thanked Dive before Wire and Heat shooed off the rest of the spectating crew. Heat was still walking funny, but he seemed fine. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kid glaring in the direction of a very smug-looking pig. You got in the way of his line of sight. You were mad at her, mad wasn't the right word, but would scold her privately. If you did it now, you weren't sure what Kid would do, assuming he was already pissed at the animal. Kid rose from the deck, shaking water from his hair, and walked towards you, meaning to get to Minerva. You backed up, putting yourself between he and Mini. You could forgive the things he did to you, but you would not forgive anything he did to her. Your back touched her as she stood to her full height, fur puffed out, taking a fighting stance against Kid. He similarly made himself look bigger, but you didn't sense malice from him, strangely.

You put a hand out to keep him back. "It was an accident! All your stomping spooked her!"

"YER LUCKY I DON'T BARBECUE YA AND FEED THE CREW TONIGHT FOR THAT STUNT!" He leaned in as if he were gonna growl something to the boar, instead speaking in a hushed normal voice. "That was yer one free shot at me cuz I deserved it." He narrowed his eyes. "I know ya been wantin to do that fer a while, piggy."

Gazing into his amber eyes before they flicked away, you knew that was part of his apology to you, choosing to let the boar's actions go because you loved her and he loved you. He turned to go back to his workshop, with you tailing him.

"Hey! You can't stay in wet clothes! You'll get sick!"

Suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground as Killer plucked you from the deck and followed Kid. "That goes for you, too, little darlin." He grabbed the back of Kid's coat and pulled him below deck with you towards his room.

Killer stripped you both of your wet clothes, though taking a minute to appreciate how good Wire's outfit looked on you. And the two of you were now seated nude at the end of Killer's bed, hands shoved between your legs and heads down with guilt, while he paced back and forth, arms folded over his ample chest. He was deciding which one of you to scold first, not allowing you to put clothes on yet.

"You." He stood at your feet and you reluctantly met his gaze through the holes of his mask. "Are you stupid? Why would you jump in after this big idiot?"

"HEY!" Kid protested.

You covered yourself up to the best of your ability, feeling vulnerable under Killer's gaze. "I didn't mean to. I just..."

"Just what? Hm?" Underlying Killer's stern voice, was a thin layer of exasperation. "I have to worry about him enough. I don't need you adding to it."

"I wasn't thinking! I saw that he got hurt and I went after him!"

"And you didn't see the ocean? The giant blue thing on all sides of us." Killer huffed and carried on. "You come get ME. Understand? What if no one saw you go in? Huh? Then both of you would be lost."

"I..." You snapped. "I only saw Kid okay?! I was scared he was hurt! As much as he irritates the fuck out of me and makes me mad, I still care about him and I can't stop." You saw him grinning stupidly beside you and punched him. "Fuck off. I hate you." You folded your arms tighter and turned away from him so he couldn't see your pink-dusted cheeks, slapping his hand away when he tried to pinch one.

Kid's boisterous laugh filled the room. "HA-HA! YER IN LOVE WITH ME, DUMBASS!"

Killer snapped at him with his fingers. "Hey, numbnuts, look at me." Kid's laugh faded as it was his turn to be scolded. "Stop riling up the pig, first of all. Second of all, stop saying stupid shit. That's what always gets you into trouble. Think for one extra second before you open that big ass mouth of yours."

"FINE." Kid huffed.

"Did you apologize yet?"

You half turned to see what his expression was, seeing him looking at you with a question, and nodded, indicating you accepted his underwater apology.

"Aye."

"Y/N?"

"He did."

"Great." Killer clapped his hands. "Now kiss and make up." Killer turned both of your heads to face each other. "Don't be shy."

You curled your lip and gave Kid a quick peck on the cheek.

"No! Not good enough!" Killer folded his arms. "What's wrong?"

You hesitated. If you were going to get it off your chest, now was the time. You huffed and faced Kid. "I want to know that..." you forced yourself to keep his gaze. "...I'm more than sex."

"Hah?!" Kid had an incredulous expression on his face. "What're ya? Stupid? Course ya are!"

"But you said...as long as I have a pussy-"

Kid put a hand over his face. "Fuck me! That's not what I meant. I was tryin to make ya laugh is all."

"It wasn't funny! I had real fears that...maybe that's all I would be if I couldn't fight."

"Once a Kid Pirate, always a Kid Pirate. We won't abandon ya, even if ya get hurt. Do ya think we would raid a marine base to save ya if ya didn't mean more to us?" Kid continued. "If all I wanted was easy sex, I could grab any random whore from an island."

You hummed in agreement. He had a point.

"And I did. But we made her our whore." Kid laughed again and you frowned.

"I really don't like you." You rolled your eyes.

"Come on now, doll." Kid wrapped his arms around you and smushed his face into your neck. "What would I do without my Rotten? Right, Kil?"

You tried to squirm out of Kid's overly affectionate hug. You could tell he was laying it on thick to annoy you, smug that he knew you could never really stay mad at him.

Killer sat on the opposite side of you and took one of your hands in his. "Kid isn't good with words. That just how he's always been. Sometimes he says the wrong thing or he doesn't realize what he says can be harsh, but trust me when I say he cares about you. If you're on this ship and a part of the crew, he cares about you."

"Even if ya ever decide ya don't want ta fuck us, yer still a Kid Pirate. I'll still take care of ya." Kid pressed a kiss to your neck. "But I will be sad if ya decide ya don't wanna be my bunny anymore."

"Good?" Killer got up and folded his arms again. "Now kiss." He made a motion of pushing your heads together.

You relented, facing Kid and planting your lips on his. He ran his hands lovingly over your cheeks and into your hair. You pulled back and rested your forehead on his. "I'm sorry for being stubborn. And thank you for not being an asshole to Mini."

"I've never been an asshole in my life. Tell her, Killer."

You rolled your eyes again and sighed, feeling a lot better than you had.

"Next time, because there will be a next time, we're going to talk about it together instead of you two being nightmares for the entire ship. Deal? Heat is gonna fucking quit if you keep dragging him in."

You and Kid nodded, regretfully.

"Or else you'll get seastone manacled together until you can be nice to each other."

You and Kid glanced at each other, neither exactly opposing that idea.

Killer shook his head and put his hand to his helmet. "Get dry clothes on and get back to work."

You got up and squeezed Killer's midsection. "Sorry for making you worry."

"Aye, sorry."

You were squished as Kid came from behind you to also hug Killer. Your head was being crushed from all sides by four huge manboobs. A much more preferable way to die than drowning. Shockingly, Kid didn't even get a boner. Wondering what was taking so long, you looked up to see Kid planting red lipstick marks all over Killer's helmet. You had no right to be annoyed, happy to see your boys being affectionate with each other. You could stay here a few minutes longer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kid dragged you to his workshop. He was dying to show you something, and that was why he had been pestering you earlier. He wouldn't tell you what it was. Killer was following you quietly. Even he didn't know what it was, though he had a pretty good guess. Kid made you sit while he rummaged around through his things. You weren't sure why he always had to be rummaging. Why wasn't anything organized? This was his space. It wasn't like anyone but him was making a mess.

While you waited, there was a crumpled piece of clothing on the corner of Kid's bench. It was peppered with smeared eyeliner and Kid's red lipstick. A sweat rag? You picked it up, fabric unfolding and revealing black kanji. This is-! You unfolded it in your lap. It was tattered and stained but it was your coat. Your fingers traced over the marks that were clearly left by Kid.

"Was gonna give it back. Meant ta clean it first." Kid was scratching the back of his head, a reddish hue developing on his cheeks.

"You saved it?" You had assumed it was lost when you were taken.

"And this." Kid held your gunblade out in his hands. "Hope ya don't mind, I tweaked it again."

He did more than that. It was shiner that it had ever been, and it was adorned with intricate snake designs that hadn't been there previously. He had taken your criticism from the last time and applied it. Against his professional judgement, he kept it weighted how you liked. You looked from it to your coat. Your stomach clenched with guilt. If you had known he had don't all of this, you wouldn't have questioned his feelings for you. You brought your coat to your face, to cover the emotions that ran through it. Tears threatened to make themselves known.

"Don't ya start being a crybaby on me. Ya won't be able to see the other thing I made ya." Kid pulled your hands away from your face.

You looked into the palm he had held out. It was a small marble-like object. You didn't understand. With the wires attached to it, it sort of resembled... "This is-!" You stood up abruptly and took it from Kid's palm. Inspecting it further, there was no doubt that it was a replica of your eye. "Kid!"

"Wanna try it?" Kid offered, cheeks radiating with blush. "Just... Don't be upset. It may not work initially. I haven't gotten to test it or-"

"Shut up! Of course it will work! You made it!" You looked at it and gave it back to him. "How do we do it?"

Kid pointed to an open book on his desk, one of the medical reference books that had been in the infirmary. You noticed it was gone, but thought Pomp, UK, and Reck had taken it again to look at the naked anatomical pictures. He explained where the wires should connect and that he could get them there, you would just have to use your fruit to make that possible. You did it with on eye. This wasn't that different. This one had been gone much longer though, and your brain had grown accustomed to not having it, so the neural pathways may be altered. You studied the diagrams for a few minutes and talked it over with Kid. Then, you sat back down and tilted your head back to rest on the bench top.

"Killer, do you mind holding my head still? I don't know what this will be like."

Killer put both hands on either side of your head and you held the eyelids open for Kid to place the mechanical eye into. It sat in the socket well enough, but now the connections had to be made. You and Kid had to work in tandem to put everything in place. With the flesh eye, you could sort of control the things around it. This was metal, therefore Kid needed to direct it. You probably could have, but he had far better control over it. A jolt went through your body as one of the wires strayed from the correct path.

"Fuck!" Kid flinched, trying to stay concentrated.

"It's okay. Keep going." You held onto his arm to support him.

Killer watched, mesmerized by the dancing purple electricity melding with the soft yellow-tinged glow, each devil fruit power working as one. He held your head still, periodically feeling twitches and seeing your face wince.

Kid pulled his hand away as a spark jumped to his metal finger. "Can ya see?"

The eye made a few jerky, mechanical movements, not quite in synch with your body. "No." You tried to hid the disappointment in your voice.

"Hold on." Kid made some minor adjustments, looking back at the textbook for confirmation. "Try again."

This time the movement was much smoother, though still no vision. "Still no." You sighed. Maybe the problem was on your end. "Let me try."

The best way to figure out the issue was to compare it to the working side. You couldn't see into your own brain but you could feel what was there, in a weird way. Everything was connected properly, the issue was that the path of the wires had missed a stop. Both eyes were being used by the same half of the brain. Kid didn't realize that the optic nerve was meant to cross to the other side. The right eye went to the left side and the left eye went to the right, give or take a few nerve fibers. Very carefully, you brought the necessary connections through the chiasm, nerves intertwining with the mechanical fibers. The small metal pistons that acted as muscles worked fine, they needed time to attune to your control so they would move more fluidly, but you could deal with that.

You cracked the smallest opening in your eyelids, afraid that it wouldn't work, and saw a sliver of light through both. BOTH! They opened the rest of the way and you sat bolt upright, taking in everything around you, everything that seemed so much brighter and vibrant. Your eyes darted around the room. How will the ocean look? The ocean! I have to see the ocean! You were caught by strong hands before you could run out the door.

"Whoa! Can you see? Everything ok?" Killer looked down at you, holding your shoulders tight.

You pulled him down by the helmet, too fast, almost knocking yourself out, but you had to see. You had to see his blue eyes. How much of the blue had you been missing? You brought your new eye up to one of his eye holes, trying to get a glimpse. Even in the shade of his helmet, you could see glimmering blue. You released him and he did the same. You looked around the room frenetically for Kid, running to him and yanking him by the shirt until his face was at your level. You held his face between your hands looking at every freckle in new detail. And his eyes! They weren't only amber, but orange and golden, too. There was nuance that you had missed before.

"Holy shit." You breathed. You clapped Kid's head between your hands, slapping his cheeks. "I can see, you baby back bastard! You son of a bitch!" You shook his head in your grip and hugged it. "You fucking did it!" Remembering that you wanted to see the ocean, you practically threw him away from you and zipped out the workshop door.

Killer allowed himself to chuckle. "Baby back bastard? That's new."

Kid's chest was puffed out and he had his signature grin plastered on his face, framed by two small, red handprints from where you slapped him. He was virtually levitating with how much pride was radiating from him. "Of course I fuckin did it. I'm me!"

They followed you out, seeing you bent over the railing with your eyes as close to the water as possible without falling in again. Killer grabbed your waistband, sighing. He didn't want to spoil your good time by reprimanding you.

"It's so fucking blue! Have you seen this shit?!" Suddenly, numbers popped into your vision, scaring you so badly that you jumped back. "What the fuck!?" You swatted at the air where they appeared to be.

"Ya didn't give me time to explain all the features," Kid said, preventing you from falling backwards.

"Features?"

He laughed. "Ya didn't think I was gonna give ya some dumbass plain eyeball, did ya?" Kid handed you your gunblade. "Here. Point this at somethin random."

You did as he said, pointing it at the deck some distance away from you. The numbers popped back into your vision, changing depending on where your gun was pointed. When you lingered, crosshairs also flickered into view. "No fucking way."

"That's not all. Look here." Kid pointed to the pulse point in his wrist.

You holstered your weapon and the display vanished from your sight. Staring at his wrist, a new set of numbers came into view, numbers you recognized as heart rate. You flung yourself at Kid, throwing both arms around him. You released one to reach for Killer, who gladly accepted your hand. At the moment, you had no words. Kid gave you something that you hadn't had in years. You took it back, the thing about always being the one to give. Kid gave, too. It was simply a different kind of giving. You pulled your face out of his cleavage, this time not trying to hold back tears.

"Thank you, Kid! Thank you. Thank you! It's so beautiful. Everything is so beautiful!"

"Wait until you look in a mirror," Killer added. He didn't mean for it to be cheesy. He only noticed how you were so excited to see everything, you forgot about yourself.

"Now that's an idea!" You ran into the infirmary bathroom where the nearest mirror happened to be.

Killer gazed at you adoringly as you saw your own face. Finally, you could learn to appreciate what they had noticed a long time ago.

It had been some time since you had seen yourself this clearly. Part of you thought you would be disgusted by the scarring on your face, but that wasn't so. It reminded you of how much it took to get to this point. You traced the semi-circle of a scar that went through your old right eye, then the outline of where the acid had melted your skin. It held all of your anguish, but your triumphs as well. Where some might see a disfigurement, there was only strength. You stared at one eye and then the next. They were exactly alike. How Kid managed to get it to match that well, you didn't know. Maybe you did. He always seemed to be watching you, though maybe it wasn't watching so much as it was looking. Kid's eyes followed you all the time. Had he had memorized the details? But why would he?

You ran back to Kid, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Killer, who was kind enough to bend down for you. You did a running jump at Kid, which he, thankfully, was prepared for, lest you both fall int the ocean again. Kid caught you as flew at him. "Ha-ha! You stupid fuck! You love me back!"

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

#Ta-dah! Fluff this time!#2 eyes bitch!#one piece #marooned #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #x reader #eustass kid x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #kid x reader x killer

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ambeer6 · 2 days

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Longer than expected yapping about case 2 of DRDT. (dated ep 14 of ch 2)

Some thoughts about the chapter 2 case. Warnings for all the obvious.

First of all, I think Teruko is right about how the pulley system was set up. Rope over the rafters on the ceiling, then through the seesaw and then around the carousel. Then tying the rope to the correct length before letting go, so there's no worry about stopping the carousel with your bare hands. This simply makes sense.

Something that confuses me, is the amount of people arguing against this idea? Not many people on tumblr thankfully, but I don't really see why this setup would be unbelievable.

Advantages of the pulley:

Using a pulley reduces weight. Arei would be far easier to lift using this method. Even a kid could lift her this way by simply leaning into the carousel.

Using the pulley means you don't have to pick up Arei and hook her into the noose. You can simply leave her unconscious on the ground and hook the noose around her instead, then push the carousel.

Even if you're okay with her dying of strangulation, it's easy to tie the rope to the right length and just let her drop to break her neck. It grants Arei a quick death. (and you'll be done quicker)

Even if the killer is strong enough to just lift Arei into the noose, using a pulley is much easier and means you'll spend less time holding her. I know not everyone would care, but I certainly wouldn't enjoy holding onto an unconscious girl and trying to lift her into a noose, let alone an awake girl trying to struggle. (if you believe she woke up)

Downsides of the pulley:

A lot more work to clean up afterwards. Especially since we know most of it wasn't actually cleaned up, all they did was hang Arei into a different place afterwards. (I wonder if they were in a hurry, or if they assumed that somehow people wouldn't realize Arei couldn't have broken her neck from the short rope on the swingset)

a lot more work to set up to begin with. You'll have to either get up very early, or set it up the night beforehand if you wanted to be completely prepared for the murder. Clearly this wasn't just a spur of the moment thing.

That's pretty much all I can think of, honestly. When talking about the advantages or downsides of the pulley at least.

Other stuff that's maybe a bit silly to bring up:

Those fish are a bit big to have fitted through the holes in the jerrycan handles.

How do we think those jerrycans were attached to Arei? Like, I know the handles are broken (also giggle at the size of the holes and the size of the fish), but my question is more like... did they use rope? It sounds logical to use rope, but they don't mention any rope burn on Arei's body.

Maybe the 'glove is for ropeburn' truthers meant the ropeburn on Arei herself? Did the killer place the glove on Arei's neck before hanging the rope with the jerrycans off her? If they got rid of the jerrycans afterwards, maybe they also took Arei's glove. (disclaimer: I don't think they used the glove this way, but I'm open to arguments in favour of it's usage)

Rose mentioned she memorized the trash. Do you think there's a chance the needle and thread will be brought up by her? I feel like if those are going to be important, then Rose will be the person to mention seeing them in the trash.

Clothes baul.

Something else I want to mention is that the way some people talk about this case makes me uncomfortable. I want to remind people that this is just a story that someone wanted to tell. I understand that the people saying they'll drop hang themselves if the killer is a specific person are just joking, but if I were the dev, I'd feel extremely uncomfortable from just how many people are talking about the case like this.

I understand not wanting a certain character to die and I can't stop you from making jokes about it, but saying that killing off your fave character is a horrible writing choice and you'll kill yourself over it, would put immense stress on the dev, as well as everyone who helped with the project.

Also on the topic of writing: people make illogical decisions sometimes, but especially when under stress. The case needs to make sense, but I don't want people arguing something is bad writing because the killer made one or two illogical decisions along the way.

Another thing I noticed is that a lot of people are assuming what I call the "Ellery Queen case logic", which assumes that the reader (or viewer, in this case) should be able to solve the full murder based on the clues given during the investigation, before the confrontation (trial, in this case). While definitely understandable, it's great being able to solve things beforehand, we need to remember that this is not the only way to go about writing cases. Personally I've engaged more with what I call the "Arthur Conan Doyle case logic", which leaves the most vital piece(s) of evidence hidden from the reader (viewer) until the end of the final confrontation. This makes is either very difficult, or even impossible to solve the case beforehand, meaning you'll have to wait until the very end to even see the final piece of the puzzle.

Now, there's no saying whether Despair Time uses either one or the other case logic style (they could mix it up between every chapter if they want to), so because of that, I ask people to be polite about people's theories, even if they don't explain every single piece of evidence, or if they state that we need to wait for more evidence to be revealed even though the trial already started.

Nothing wrong with voicing your own ideas on people's theories, it can be helpful if they actually misremember something (I misremembered stuff too, so it was good to have it pointed out!) and can help people rework their theories with your arguments in mind, but I just ask that you're not condescending about it if you do.

THAT'S ALL! THANKS FOR READING!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt theory #sorta

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hanmaitani · 2 days

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Equals

PAIRING - Faerie Prince!Kita Shinsuke x Wingless Faerie!Reader WC - 0.9K GENRE - smut CW - mating press, talk of an heir, praise, slight wing play... i really just needed to get back into the smut and him

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

“Equal.” Shinsuke’s voice was heavy in your ear as you basked in the warm afternoon atmosphere filling up your small home. With the window open, the breeze makes the small crystals hanging from your ceiling chime softly, light playing off of them and refracting around your room.

You and Shinsuke had been holed up in your little home every time he’s come over since the winter ball. It had begun with you asking more and more questions about life at the palace, as the prince. You took his newly revealed role with more grace than he thought you would. Part of him had expected you to hold on to your anger for longer.

But the curiosity and conversations had quickly turn into how you were now, under him, legs around his waist, nails skimming the edges of his wings as he fucks you into your bed. The sound of skin on skin is nearly drowned out by the heavy panting coming from the man above you and the soft whines coming from your own lips.

“Come on, my love, say it for me,” he prompts you yet again, his way of drilling his praise into your head while you’re dizzy.

You can barely breathe, the way he’s so attentive to your needs. Your words come out more like little sighs, barely getting enough force behind them to be truly considered words. “E-equal,” you breathe, “we-we’re equals.”

He’s been reminding you of it non-stop, trying to convince you that even though he’s your prince, your future king, he’s still just Shinsuke to you, and you’re still his love.

“One day you’ll be my queen,” he mumbles in between his moans. They’re words that he used to think about but now he can speak them aloud, now that you know who he is. The promises make your head dizzy, make you want to question if it’s truly possible. “You’d be my queen, right?”

You can’t question him when he sounds so sincere, so drunk on you, so in love with you. “Yes.” Your affirmations are always breathy, paired with pretty moans as he rewards you for your agreement.

You always get so dizzy when he gets like this, his soft pants in your ear as he praises your every arch, whimper and whine. Your nails dig into his shoulders and it only spurs him on. You don’t mean to do it, your sharp nails mean to claw at his back, to drag him closer to you. It’s a miscalculation as your nails scrape harshly against his delicate wings.

His sharp hiss of pain brings you back to your senses. Your eyes widen and your hands jerk away from him, panic entering your voice. “I’m so sorry, oh my god-” you almost whimper as you pull back to see his face all scrunched up in… but he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. “Shinsuke?” you question quietly.

“Fuck,” his voice is gravelly and his cheeks are flushed profusely. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, “do it again.” He’s nearly panting and you open your mouth to question him but he grabs your hands and drags them back to his wings. “Go on, my love, they’re yours to touch. Do it again.”

You nearly whimper as you hesitate, your fingers brushing the delicate things gently, unsure of being so harsh again. But the gentle touch only seems to set him off, his eyes rolling slightly as he moans. You question if they’ve always been this sensitive, if every time you’ve brushed them he’s held back a moan like that. It’s enough for you to touch them a little more firmly.

You let out a soft squeal, your nails scraping against him in surprise when his palms find the backs of your thighs, unwrapping your legs from his waist and pressing them to your chest in a fluid motion. The angle is dizzying and new and it makes you see stars almost immediately.

“Shinsuke…” his name turns into a whine as you feel him press into you further, feeling him stretching you out more than he ever has before.

You’re the one panting now as he folds his body over yours, his forehead resting against yours so he can take in how pretty you look scrunching up your face in an effort to accommodate him pushing deeper into you than he ever has before.

“You look so beautiful, my love,” he mutters, catching your next moan with his lips as he kisses you. “You’d be a beautiful queen,” you whine out as he punctuates the thought with a thrust, your fingers grasping for his wings again, earning yourself a loud groan in return. “Fuck.” He curses and pants as he picks up his pace, erratic and dizzying for the both of you as you moan against his mouth.

“My love, carry my heir…” You think you mishear him for a moment until he lifts up slightly, his hands folding you impossibly more, his thrusts knocking the air out of you. “Won’t you?” he asks, and there’s a hint of pleading behind his tone that had you looking up at him with a dazed expression on your face. “Please,” he whispers, and it breaks you, “please, please, let me give you my heir.”

You can’t help how you nod. “Wanna give you everything you want, Shinsuke,” you mumble and scrape down his wings again, reveling in how he hisses for it, “please.”

TAGLIST - OPEN

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @qichun @yellowsakurablossoms @ibby-miyoshi-nerd

#kita smut #kita shinsuke smut #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita fanfiction #kita shinsuke fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #𓇻 YWFYW #𓇻 Dark Side Writing

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hermitw · 23 hours

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I've been thinking about this reblog of yours for months and I finally figured out how to respond to it.

I went and read No Longer Human by Junji Ito and it was a very upsetting thing to go through. I don't think I can read it again. However, I came out of it thinking that Gege was probably inspired by it.

When Yozo is first introduced, I noticed that Takaba's backstory was very similar. Feeling isolated from others, he decided to become a clown to gain acceptance from others. (Citations in Image Captions)

And later when Yozo was caught "cheating" (it's in quotes because those women are child rapists), I noticed that her face was really similar to the one Higuruma's client made when he felt betrayed by the trial outcome.

There's probably a lot more to say about how themes surrounding CSA and suicide in this work are echoed in JJK, but I'm not able to make the post myself. No Longer Human is too far out of my comfort zone in terms of graphic depiction to delve into it deeper.

But you seem strong enough to handle it, so... Idk maybe run with this some more.

Ohhh this is so interesting! I could definitely read No Longer Human again - tbh I read Junji Ito's version years ago. This year I listened to the audio book and bought a copy - but it's like, a draft in the author's handwriting (bc I thought it would help me study Japanese and if I had an English translation that I'd read it on repeat lmao). But you're real for that - I forget how disturbed people tend to be trying to read through it, I'm sorry that was rough.

I did go back to read the reblog and idk how relevant all that was - I've reread the manga since and felt like, oh I might have been misremembering some things like Uraume - idk if they actually had a freeze response in ch. 219, since they did tell Yorozu to back off though it took a minute - but it's also interesting how their CT deals with ice. Like to have a fight response, they freeze others? It's so interesting but I can't be sure whether it's there at all. (ik that yap II inspired some more coherent posts, like how it influenced Choso's self-image, etc., I linked but didn't tag you back then bc I felt Annoying especially w heavy topics but I can definitely go back and find them if you'd like.)

On a twin peaks note (without spoiling it), I feel like it inspired jjk to some extent - I've been feeling like the last chapter will end the way s2 did. Or at least - with the weird dreamy themes, "we are the dreamer who dreams and who lives inside the dream", etc...

But you're right - Yozo and the others' reactions resemble more jjk characters than I would think to connect. Takaba's jokes are truly a shield... And now I have an excuse to read Junji Ito's version again? Thank u so much (also isn't it funny how September 28 Uzumaki airs and September 30 jjk ends?).

I think gege gets inspired by the most tragic stories, I wonder how much of that is accurate but I can't always be convinced otherwise.... Especially when anime / manga series that he's confirmed as influences often deal with autonomy in ways that I couldn't handle (Evangelion, the night beyond the tricornered window).

By the way - ik we've mentioned elfen lied before, but in the first episode, you know that coffee mug? How it looks like jjk foreshadowing? Even has snail head Mahito - cut off-, the baseball, Panda, the worm (also cut off).... and later the newborn babies that look just like Yuuji...

I swear that elfen lied, Kagewani, and banana fish influenced jjk. It seems so obvious w those, maybe Vampire Princess Miyu as well.

Sorry for getting off topic - I've been looking into why Momotaro keeps coming up in jujutsu kaisen, and in the end it came back full circle to that damn coffee cup. Invest in a baseball team? A zoo? I'm going insane.

All this to say - rereading Junji Ito's version and seeing if I notice similarities between manga panels is so exciting. Gege even made a note that he asked for permission before drawing - I think it was the Uzumaki CT - So we know he's a big fan of Junji Ito. And it seems like there is a rly good chance No Longer Human inspired him as well (though I feel like characters with similar traumas having similar reactions is inevitable to some extent, if they're written in a believable way, it should be clearer when I'm reading both stories in the same format) based on the stories he has officially referenced.

#I've seen those side by side panels of like. The Eva? And mechamaru vs Mahito so #This is exciting #I fear that I'm not the one to make Buddhist connections though - the books that I have are not rly in the same school but might have the #Same foundational teachings so I still think I'll read that #Or the dream and sleep one - that was so good but idk if like. Sleeping on the edge of a high thing to maintain awareness in your dreams or #I dunno I don't think I finished it bc I got into another book by the same author lmao it's been a few years #ANYWAY I have an excuse to get this book and something that I might actually be able to notice #Which is rly nice bc idk I love fixaring on jjk mysteries #mentions of sa #No Longer Human #tw csa #ask box #Junji Ito #Elfen lied #Gege akutami #jujutsu kaisen manga #jjk meta

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biancasreign · 2 days

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STAYING HOME (SHORT) | JEY USO

summary: jey’s the biggest baby when he’s sick

warnings: none

“Yeah girl, I’m gonna have to pass on lunch.”

“No worries sissy. I understand you wanna take care of your man! Just text me later so I can tell you the tea.” Her close friend, Nicole told her.

“I got you sis.”

After getting off the phone with Nicole she went to the fridge and instantly pull out the items to make a soup. She didn’t know what it was but Jey came down with something that made him extremely sick.

All last night he was throwing up, sweating, and sneezing like crazy. It drove her crazy not knowing what was wrong with him. All night she found herself dozing in and out of sleep, checking in him to make sure he was okay and still breathing.

When she work up this morning she spoke with a nurse to figure out what could’ve possibly been wrong with him. After listing his symptoms is was clear he had some kind of seasonal virus that was going around.

He rarely got sick but when he did he was the biggest baby in the world. He would stay in bed all day and hold Whitney right up under him.

Gathering the items for the soup she instantly started cooking so it would be done sooner than later. She made sure to add the extra spiciness the way they liked it and then started on the dumplings.

“Mmh, this is so good.” She danced to herself as she tasted the soup and then scooped some in the bowl for Jey. She then poured him a cup of lemon honey ginger tea and made her way upstairs.

When she got to their bedroom she placed the bowl and the cup down on the dresser and walked over to the bed where Jey was sprawled out. The room was freezing cold but his body was still hot due to his fever.

“Sweet face, wake up.” She called out to him a sage placed the food on the night stand and opened the blinds to let some light in.

“Baby close that.” He sucked his teeth and pulled the cover over his head to block the sunlight.

“Jey, come on.” She sat down on the bed, rubbing small circles into his back.

“Hmm?” He moved his head from under the comforter while adjusting his body to face her.

“Eat for me and you can go back to sleep. I made you some soup and tea.” She ran her hands through his small curls as he laid his head in her lap.

“I thought you were going out for lunch?” He asked.

“No, I gotta take care of my baby.”

“You don’t gotta do that. Go out with your girls.” He told her but she ignored him and picked up the humidifier so she could change the water in it.

As she did he grabbed the bowl off the dresser and instantly began eating it. If there was one thing Whitney could do it was cook her ass off. He loved all of her cooking especially when he was sick.

“How is it?”

“You know it’s good baby.” He licked his lips.

“Good, how do you feel? You look way better than yesterday.” She asked as she sat down on the bed next to him.

“Damn, I looked fucked up yesterday?” He sucked his teeth and turned to face her.

“Just a little bit.” She giggled.

“You’re not right for that. I couldn’t fucking breathe. He narrowed his eyes are her.

“Well you didn’t want to drink the tea. I bet you’ll drink it all now. It cleared your sinuses right out after I forced it down your throat.”

“That’s how you’re gonna treat me when we’re old, huh? Abusing me and shit?” He took the tea from her as she busted out laughing at how dramatic he was being.

“Hmm, maybe. You can be difficult sometimes we might have to send you to a nursing home.” She laughed once she saw the expression on his face.

“Yeah fucking right. You’ll be real upset when I find a young thang to take care of me.”

“And I’ll beat both of y’all asses. Old or not.” She pursed her lips at him. No longer thinking it was funny.

“Babe, you’re a trip.” He shook his head at her.

——————————————————————————

tag list: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh

#wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fluff #wwe smut #wwe one shot #wwe fanfiction #jey uso #jey uso imagine #black writers #black fanfic writer #black oc #black romance

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nottsbitch · 1 day

Text

You Know - L.B.

summary: Finally confronting Enzo

contains smut

✩✩✩✩

It had been a week since you found out about Enzo, and that was the last time that he had visited you.

You figured it was because he was busy or maybe he realized what he was doing was weird. But in reality, he knew that you knew, as soon as he caught you staring at him he knew. You never gave him the time of day now he felt your eyes on him every time you were in the same room which could only mean one thing. You knew.

He took that as his sign to back off until things blew over. So now as he sat in the back corner of the library he couldn't help himself as his thoughts drifted to you. He missed seeing you of course but didn't want to risk things.

As he sat in his daydream about you, he was completely oblivious to you talking to his friends.

"I just need to know where he is Riddle." You rolled your eyes realizing that your conversation with Matteo and Theo was currently going nowhere.

"What could you possibly want with our sweet little Enzo?" This came from Theo.

Both of the men in front of you were shocked that you were looking for Enzo. To their knowledge, the two of you had never spoken a word to each other and now you were basically begging for his location.

"I need to talk to him" They could tell you were getting more and more annoyed the longer you stood there.

"Last time I saw him he was going to the library. Don't sneak up on him he might faint when he realizes it's you." Both boys had known about their friend's longtime crush on you and smirked as you stomped away from them.

You were quick in the halls not giving yourself any time to think about what you were going to say when you reached him, which was quicker than you thought.

Before you knew it you were stopped in front of him "What is wrong with you?"

Enzo stuck in his own thoughts didn't notice you until you opened your mouth "Excuse me?" You could see the twinkle in his eye as he held back his smirk.

"I know what you were doing, all of a sudden I catch you in the act then you disappear. You are nowhere to be found, won't even look in my direction, and I feel like I'm losing my mind." At this point, he couldn't hold back the smile on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The fake curiosity was genuine in his voice.

At this moment it felt like your body and your mind were wanting two different things, and before you even realized you had moved you were in the seat so close to the man next to you he could feel your breath on his cheek.

Leaning into his ear you whispered "Cut the bullshit, Enzo"

"All I'm hearing right now is that you're desperate for attention." If he wanted to play this game you weren't going to make it easy on him.

You put on your most innocent face before looking him in the eyes "Only if it's coming from you."

Though he thought he was doing a good job at keeping his poker face you could see right through him. You knew you were effecting him as much as he was effecting you making it just as easy for you to get into his head.

"So this is okay?" He whispered as his hand found its way to your thigh, causing you to momentarily forget why this conversation even started.

As his hand moved up your thigh you were confused by the fact that his head went back down to his book pretending to focus on whatever he was doing before you got there. With an innocent look on his face, it contrasted the fact that things didn't stay innocent for long.

He leaned into you, his other arm tightening on your waist as he used you to pull your chair closer to his.

You still hadn't responded to him instead choosing silence waiting to see how far this would actually go. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, letting your eyelids flutter as he brought his lips to your neck.

"Lost your words?" He paused his assault on your neck to whisper in your ear, Causing you to move your hand to his thigh giving it a warning squeeze.

You still felt his breath on your skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. Enzo knew what he was doing of course and he was loving the reaction he was getting.

You felt your walls coming down by each second the teasing continued. You chose this. moment to look into his eyes noticing how dark they had gotten. You were fucked.

He smirked, his lips finding their way back to your ear "You gotta stay quiet."

His words sent shivers down your spine, as his hand started to massage your inner thigh, his fingertips getting awfully close to where you wanted them most but not giving you that satisfaction.

You let out a breath and adjust yourself, spreading your legs even wider. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Enzo smirk as he squeezed your thigh hard, before finally moving his hand. He started off slow, his hands teasing you over your underwear.

At this point, you had forgotten where you were. Enzo had snuck his fingers underneath your underwear now and was circling them on your clit. You were biting down on your lip trying to hold back a moan at the sudden wave of pleasure, of course Enzo noticed.

"Not a sound." He whispered making you even more aroused. He started increasing his pace, making your hips start to grind softly against him. You were soaked now and this was only more encouragement for Enzo.

You had dug your nails into his thigh and buried your head in his shoulder, hoping it would muffle the sounds you couldn't hold in any longer. His head had leaned against yours, and at the same time, he pushed a finger inside of you, curving it up to hit your g-spot.

Your mouth fell open, and you groaned against his neck as he slid his finger in and out of you. The rush of being caught was turning you on even more. You felt another wave of pleasure run through you that only intensified as he added another finger.

His eyes had not left your face once, enjoying the effect he was having on you. He watched as your eyes closed when he pushed even deeper inside of you.

Your legs had started to twitch and you were biting your tongue hoping to stay quiet on the brink of your orgasm. He brought his ear down your face so he could hear you say the words.

"I'm close." He pulled his face away and looked into your eyes, a smug look on his face as he slowed down his fingers until he came to a complete stop.

"Remember who has the upper hand here."

You couldn't stop your jaw from dropping as you watched him pack up his things as if nothing had happened.

"I'll see you soon." Turning and leaving before you could get a single word out.

"What just happened?" You said to no one except yourself trying to wrap your head around if this was a dream or not, but the wetness in your underwear told you everything you needed to know.

✩✩✩✩

#harry potter #theo nott #matteo riddle #slytherin boys #tom riddle #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire #slytherin #hp universe #enzo berkshire x reader

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corneliaavenue-ao3 · 1 day

Text

Summer's a Knife (a graveyard fic)

Graveyard fics are fics that I started and will never return to. Some are vague outlines, some are 4 sentences, some are 40 pages. But if they haunt me, I want them to haunt you too.

I am actually sad that this became a graveyard fic. But I truly cannot write it anymore. I wanted to release this first chapter in May of 2022... you see how well that went for me.

This is the first summer after the war from Ginny's POV. It is sad, it is romantic, it deals with grief. It was going to have flashbacks to Ginny's sixth year. It was going to have 4 big chapters and a small epilogue, each chapter focusing on a month. It was going to be one of my favorite things I wrote. Unfortanetly, I don't feel that way anymore.

May (chapter title: so long daisy May) is the only complete (non-edited) chapter. I knew what I wanted to write in June (the best and worst day of June), no clue what July (I've been down since July) would bring, and an idea for August (August slipped away)

I even had a playlist made

Chapter 1 is below the cut because it is 10k words, and I am giving it all to you. After that I will explain the rest of the vibes of the fic with some snippets I wrote. Sorry this is a LONG POST.

You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times. We're not trying.

If I bleed, you’ll be the last to know

So Long Daisy May

Ginny’s bloodstained trainers echoed on the cobblestone path to her Great Aunt’s house.

Once again, she was sent away for being too young. It wasn’t that long ago her parents were begging her to leave, to come back here for safety away from the final battle. Harry gave her a look that he didn’t want to see her either. She stayed of course. Fought in the war that was her fight as much as any other member of her family’s fight. Probably even more than most of them to be honest.

Now the war was over, she was sent away again. Her mum didn’t want Ginny to stay at Hogwarts any longer than necessary, wary of any lurking danger from Death Eaters still roaming the grounds. The Burrow was not safe yet. Her dad, Bill, and Charlie left soon after Voldemort fell to ensure that their home would be safe for them to come home. Molly Weasley could not bear to convince George to leave his twin’s side in the room of all the deceased. Ron was off somewhere once again, probably conjoined to Harry and Hermione’s sides, unbearable for them to separate.

That is how Ginny ends up with Percy of all brother’s returning to Great Aunt Muriel’s cold mansion that foggy, early morning.

Percy took a moment to knock on the front door. Ginny was planning to just walk inside, finding herself too tired to care about politeness and proper etiquette.

The front door swung open 30 seconds later, a small house elf stood in the entryway.

“Hey, Milsey. We were sent here to update Muriel and wait it out until the Burrow is safe,” Ginny said.

Milsey bowed down, “Of course, anything for Prewett blood.”

Ginny didn’t even try to hide her eye roll. She could practically hear Hermione in her ear ranting about House Elf Welfare.

“You don’t need to bow for us, Milsey,” Percy said. The first words he said aloud since their mum sent them here. Ginny did not know what to make of Percy anymore. He was the only brother who noticed anything was wrong with her during her first year at Hogwarts, and then he was the only one who checked up on her during her second year. Then he stopped caring about her. Ron told her that he got a letter from Percy telling him to stop being friends with Harry during his fifth year. She didn’t even get that. She could not understand how he could ignore his family for two years, and then come back begging for forgiveness.

Fred had forgiven him.

The thought of Fred made her entire insides clench. She wanted to vomit even though she had not had anything to eat in hours.

Percy walked through the front door, Ginny closely following.

“I am 109 years old, I just can’t have people showing up to my house unannounced at the crack of dawn. I have not even finished my tea yet this morning. Ginevra, your shoes are filthy. Take them off before you step on my Egyptian Rug, it is older than me and made from Sphynx fur,” Ginny’s aunt said in one breath.

Muriel stood in the doorway, wrapped in her silk nightgown, arms folded, looking very unpleased to see her niece and nephew. “And where is Molly? I need to speak with her about her inability to raise polite children who give warning when they are going to visit their aunt!”

Ginny felt Percy’s hand wrap around her bicep, warning her to not make a retort. “We will make sure we give you notice next time we visit, Auntie Muriel. Thank you for letting us pop in this morning,” Percy said, using his trademark pompous voice.

Muriel grunted, "I missed you Percy. You were always the most respectable Weasley. The Prewett blood runs strong in you."

Percy squeezed Ginny's arm again as a reminder to stay calm. Ginny turned and gave him a look that read something like I’m not a baby, get your annoying hands off of me. She wasn’t sure he quite got the message, but he removed his hand anyway.

“We are only here until dad gives us the all clear to go back home. I will clear out all of our things we left in your spare rooms. Your favorite Weasley can update you on what has happened in the last 24 hours.” Ginny turned, not even sparing a glance at Percy to see his reaction to the news that he would be the one updating the family about Fred’s death. She crossed over the sphinx rug and stormed up the stairs, making sure to leave dirty footprints with each step.

Her room was first. Her trunk sat in the middle of the floor, a few articles of clothing scattered across the floor, but mostly still packed. She didn’t want to admit it to her mum at the time, but she kept her trunk packed in case they needed to make another quick escape. Now, it seems so frivolous caring about her things when her family is now forever torn apart.

She quickly gathered her clothes strewn around and shoved them into her trunk. Levitating her trunk out the bedroom door and into the hallway.

The Ministry of Magic has more to worry about at the moment than some underage magic.

Her parent’s room was next. Unlike Ginny, they did not have their trunks already packed from school, so they did not bring much from the Burrow. Ginny noticed this on her third day at her aunt’s house when her mum had not changed robes. Looking around the room, Ginny gathered what little items were there and put them into her own trunk.

The twin’s room was last.

Ginny took a deep breath, bracing herself before pushing the door open slowly. Unsurprisingly, the room was a mess. Weasley Wizard Wheezes products piled in boxes on the floor and stacked on top of the bed. Mail in orders haphazardly organized in some system that only made sense to George. In the corner was Fred’s belongings frozen in time, never to be touched by him again.

Flashbacks to the Great Hall flooded her brain.

The smell of burning smoke clogged her nose. Seamus guided her back inside from the courtyard into the entryway of the Great Hall. Everything was too quiet. The emeralds littered on the floor cracked under her step, echoing against the stone walls. Suddenly Bill was there, pulling her from Seamus into his arms. He was crying. Why was he crying? He led her to the middle of the Great Hall where her family was huddled together. She counted the amount of heads, realizing two were missing. Slowly she approached her mum, who was kneeling on the ground in front of - NO.

Ginny stumbled, tripping over a box of sparklers on the ground. Her knees crashed into the footboard of the bed. A spare sparkler fizzled on the ground then ignited the entire box. An impressive explosion lit up the entire room, burning an imprint on the ceiling. Smoke filled her lungs. Spluttering, Ginny sunk to the ground, trying to catch her breath.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In and out. Quicker. Faster.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

She felt herself start to hyperventilate. Her throat clogged up, unable to suck in deep enough breath to fill her lungs with oxygen. Tears blurred her vision. Pressure built in her head, she felt like she was submerged underwater. Unable to catch her breath. Drowning in her tears.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. For a second, she thought she was with Bill back in the Great Hall again before realizing that was not the brother holding her.

“It’s alright, Ginny,” Percy soothed her.

Sobs wracked her body. She was exhausted. She could not keep them in any longer. Tucking her head into Percy’s chest, Ginny cried for her brother. She would never hear Fred tell another joke or have a late night race on the brooms. Her whole body ached. Several hours after his death, she finally felt the magnitude of the loss of Fred.

Percy scratched her back, lightly tracing his fingertips down her spine, soothing her. Just like he had the time she broke down during their trip to Egypt. Slowly, oxygen inflated her lungs and her sobs lessened. Her breath slowed back to a stable rate.

"Thanks, Perce," Ginny said when she finally trusted her own voice.

"Don't mention it," he shrugged. "How about you get some rest, I will clean up the rest of this room."

Ginny was too tired to protest. Pulling herself to stand, Ginny nodded at Percy before slowly making her way back to her guest bedroom. She didn't even bother changing into fresh clothes before crawling into bed. Curled into a ball, she pulled the covers tightly around her.

Her thoughts drifted to the same person she dreamt about for the entire year before the blackness wrapped around her, pulling her into a deep sleep.

Hours too soon she was gently shook awake. Groggy eyes opened to her father smiling down at her. He aged so much within the last year. What red was once in his hair has turned primarily gray, fresh wrinkles were etched into his face. Ginny flung her arms around his neck.

“It’s safe to go home now.”

“Where’s Percy?” Ginny asked, hating how childish her voice sounded.

Her dad stroked her hair, “Already home. Let’s join him.”

Her dad grabbed the trunk on the ground and Ginny’s hand, side-apparating her to the Burrow. Teaching the sixth years how to apparate was not a priority this past year. Just another flaw in her education from the last 9 months. Her landing was not soft. Stumbling a few steps, Ginny stood at the top of the hill, just inside the ward line.

“Everyone else is inside,” her dad said.

Stumbling over herself, Ginny ran down the hill to her home. At first glance, the Burrow looked the same as the day she left it. But as she got closer to the front door, she noticed more things amiss. The treeline looked different like a few branches were knocked away. The grass was scorched yellow like someone burned it. Windows were cracked or blasted open with missing shards of glass.

The front door groaned open with her push. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together, heads bent down, all snapped up at the sound of her entering the kitchen.

“Ginny!” Hermione smiled, standing to embrace her in a hug.

Ginny squeezed her friend back. She didn’t get to appreciate seeing the three of them at Hogwarts. Hermione was much thinner than the last time she saw her. They all were.

Ron embraced her next, giving her a pat on the back. She let go and looked over at the end of the table where Harry now stood.

“Hi,” Harry said.

He looked good. Thin like the other two, but still handsome. He had somehow gotten taller over the last year, his hair long, messier than she had ever seen it. The dark rings around his eyes and his hollow cheeks emphasized his green eyes. Staring at her the same way he had a year ago, like he was staring into a brilliant light.

Her heart skipped a beat.

But in the next heartbeat, they were crossing the room to one another. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders, hers around his waist. Pulling each other close. She pressed her ear against his chest.

He's alive, heart is beating, lungs are expanding with each breath.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Alive.

The stairs creaked, alerting them to the presence of another Weasley member. Ginny pulled back from Harry just slightly, not completely breaking contact, as George entered the room. Slowly, he crossed the room, giving Ginny a quick pat on the head before leaving out the back door. Reality sunk back in as she watched the back of George’s head.

Fred's dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

She felt her throat start to clog again. The unbearable feeling of loss started to overwhelm her. Slowly, she pulled away from Harry. She could not lose it again, especially not in front of the others who went through so much more than she had. Ron also lost Fred, and he wasn’t breaking down at the sight of George.

And George, who would see Fred’s face whenever he looked in the mirror, did not deserve Ginny breaking down by looking at him. It made her feel like an awful person for almost losing it. No one needed the stress of taking care of her while they too were struggling.

“He hasn’t said anything,” Ron said, filling the silence. Ginny realized her eyes had not left the back door George exited. “Charlie went back to Hogwarts to convince him to leave. He got back maybe 20 minutes before you did.”

Ginny wouldn’t know what to say either when everyone looked at you like they were seeing a ghost.

“Where’s everyone else?” Ginny asked.

Ron nodded to the back door. “Bill and Fleur are out back. They checked the house for curses, but haven’t finished the rest of the property.” He pointed to the stairs next. “Mum’s up in her room. I imagine now that dad is back, she will spend the rest of the day in the kitchen. She shares her love through food, you know. And I think she has a lot of love she will want to share.”

Ron’s prediction that Molly Weasley would cook a feast for dinner was not far off. A few hours later, everyone was crammed at the table, along with enough food to feed them for days. Harry sat next to her with a plate stacked full. Throughout their meal, they exchanged casual brushes and quick glances.

“What are Kingsley’s plans with the Ministry?” Harry asked her dad as he passed the salad bowl to her.

“There is a lot to figure out. The Ministry was corrupted, that is no secret.” Percy kept his head down, avoiding the gaze of his father. Arthur took a bite of his chicken before continuing, “It is fair to assume there will be trials, but those probably won’t occur until later this summer. First, the physical damages of the war need to be fixed before the government can fix itself. Kingsley is working with Gawain to assess the damage first.”

“Do we know how many people lost their lives?” Bill asked.

Arthur shook his head. “It is unclear. There are still those unaccounted for in addition to those in critical care at Saint Mungos. But right now the number is at 43, not including Death Eaters.”

The clattering of silverware halted. Silence overcame the table as the magnitude of the battle overcame them.

“Excuse me,” Harry stood, tossing his fork on his half finished plate of food. He crossed the kitchen and made his way up the stairs, not bothering to look back at any of them.

Ron silently stood too, following Harry up. Hermione paused, eyes following Ron, but she stayed in her seat. “He will be fine,” Hermione reassured the table, not making eye contact with any direct member of the Weasley family as she spoke.

The table remained awkwardly quiet for the rest of the meal. Fleur spoke of Shell Cottage to fill the silence. Ginny excused herself to her room as soon as she felt appropriate to leave.

“I will be right back,” Hermione said as she passed Ginny’s bedroom door later that evening, two plates of food balanced on her arm.

Ginny nodded and continued to get ready for bed. By the time Hermione returned, Ginny had already tucked herself into bed, facing the wall. Hermione silently dressed for bed. “Goodnight, Ginny.”

Her circadian clock was off. Even though her entire body felt exhausted, Ginny lay awake staring up at the cracked ceiling of her own bedroom for hours. Sleeping at Muriel’s threw her off. In other circumstances, she would have taken this opportunity for a night flight. But she didn't feel safe flying alone tonight. Her mum would also be worried sick if she found out Ginny went out alone unsupervised in the middle of the night. Ginny did not need to be an added reason for her mother's stress right now.

So instead she shifted in her bed, trying to drift off to sleep. Counting Hermione's rhythmic breaths as she slept on the cot next to her bed.

One.

Two.

In.

Out.

Ginny tried to prevent her thoughts from drifting to anything depressing. No Fred, no Hogwarts, not even her childhood home. So instead she tried to make her mind go blank, to think of absolutely nothing besides the sound of Hermione’s breath.

Her counts of Hermione’s breaths quickened. “No, please no!”

“Hermione?” Ginny leaned over the edge to peer down at her friend. Her face was twisted in distress. The faded quilt was thrown off her body as she tossed and turned in her sleep. “It’s fake! Please stop!” a blood curdling, terrible scream escaped Hermione’s lips.

Hermione bolted straight up, eyes widened in fear, her hand reached for her right forearm. Ginny crawled out of her bed, squeezing next to Hermione on the cot. Tentatively, she reached out, stroking her back.

Hermione flinched away from her touch before finally relaxing. She tugged the sleeves of her jumper down her arms and pulled her knees into her chest. Ginny continued to try to provide comfort to her friend.

After a few minutes of silence, Hermione finally looked at her. “Sorry.”

Wrapping Hermione into an embrace, Ginny whispered, “You have no need to apologize. I wasn’t even asleep.”

Hermione hummed. “Bellatrix, well…” she trailed off, staring out the bedroom window. The quarter moon provided minimal light in Ginny’s bedroom, so Ginny could hardly make out the look on Hermione’s face. “Nevermind,” Hermione finished, pushing herself away from Ginny, standing. “I’m going to go sleep upstairs, so you can get some rest. Goodnight Ginny.”

She grabbed her wand and bolted out the door, leaving Ginny all alone.

Ginny sighed and crawled back into her own bed. She punched her lumpy pillow, trying to find a comfortable enough position to drift off to sleep. With Hermione gone, she lost her distraction from letting her mind run wild. Now, thoughts of Bellatrix infiltrated her head.

Chaos reigned. Flashes of lights of every color surrounded her. She fired off spells at any person still cowardly enough to hide their face behind a mask. Harry was dead, but Tom had not won. She would make sure of it. Ginny caught sight of her wild mane of black hair before she saw her face. Firing off a cascade of curses, each aimed for Tom’s right-hand woman, each somehow deflected with ease. Bellatrix gave her a wicked smile, and for a moment Ginny wondered if Bellatrix knew exactly who she was and why she was so distraught. Hermione and Luna joined her side to fight Bellatrix. A streak of green passed her head, and for a moment, Ginny thought she would finally be at peace.

All good judgment she made hours prior about not flying tonight was out the window. She needed out.

Shoving her feet in her trainers and grabbing a jumper to combat the cool May evening air, Ginny quickly slipped out of her bedroom. Taking the stairs two at a time, pushing open the backdoor, and sprinting the moment she stepped out into the night.

With no one to tend to it in over a month and Death Eaters to trample it to the ground, the orchard was a disaster. Apples littered the ground, the sweet fruit squashed underfoot. The burnt grass damp with dew.

The broom closet smelled musty. Thankfully, it appeared untouched. Ginny grabbed an old Cleansweep, swinging one leg over the handle in a fluid motion. Her feet firmly placed on the ground, inhaling the cold air, she pushed off into the dark sky.

The common phrase “It��s like riding a broom,” never fit so eloquently. Months away from the sky, and it is almost like she had never left. She pressed her chest closer to the handle to center her gravity, and she was soaring. Past the treeline and the top of her home, she flew lazy laps. Circling the property, spiraling in the open air.

Her lungs expanded with cold air, her heart kicked faster with adrenaline, and her mind forgot old haunts. She felt invincible. She felt alive.

Slowly, she looped closer to the ground.

She noticed his dark hair first.

Once she flew within earshot, Harry started to speak. “Imagine my surprise to be awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of your brother snogging.”

For the first time in days, Ginny smiled "I hope it wasn't with the picture of Aunt Muriel he keeps stashed under his pillow.”

A laugh escaped Harry’s lips. It was one of the most joyous sounds Ginny ever heard. "I think he finally has reason to dispose of that picture."

“Oh?” Ginny questioned, the tips of her toes grazing the grass as she hovered closer to him.

The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked up, “Your brother is snogging Hermione Granger.”

“When did that happen? Oh, you haven’t been stuck third wheeling them this entire time have you?” Ginny asked, sympathetically patting Harry’s arm.

Harry looked down at where Ginny was touching him, slowly moving his other hand up to give her fingers a gentle squeeze. Ginny sucked in a breath.

He shook his head, letting go of her hand, “They didn’t snog until yesterday.”

“But yesterday was the ba-”

“Exactly,” Harry said, interrupting her. “How long have you been out here?”

"I couldn’t sleep, and Hermione had a nightmare,” she said, shaking her head. “It was Bellatrix. That's all that I know."

A dark look crossed Harry’s features. "I can only imagine."

Ginny did not push further. It wasn't Harry’s secret to tell, nor was it her's to know.

Instead, she slid off the Cleansweep and took a seat next to him. Enough space to not touch, but enough to feel the electricity between them. The hairs on her arm stood straight up. All day, tension wrung between them. Each touch sparked every nerve in her body. For months, she dreamt about what she would do when she saw him again, and now she was too overwhelmed to act.

They sat in the silence, staring up at the stars. As each second ticked by, she became more and more unsure how to express how much she missed him. Harry shifted beside her, and Ginny braved a glance to peek over at him only to find his bright, green eyes focused on her.

He hesitated for only a moment before his signature look of determination swept across his features. A look found right before doing something brave and stupid.

And then he kissed her.

If Ginny thought it was easy to return to flying after time away, nothing compared to kissing Harry. The feel of his mouth slanted against hers felt like coming home. Nothing was more natural. An instinct. Just like the instinct of Harry’s hands to wind in her hair and hers to press against his chest.

No words were said aloud, but so much was shared within one kiss. They were always good at having silent conversations. A single look. A single touch. So many emotions and thoughts expressed between them in those moments.

His hands in her hair. I missed you.

Her hands wrapped around his waist. Please don’t go again.

Their lips pressed together. I need you.

Eventually they broke apart after what could have been several days. Ginny always lost track of time when Harry kissed her. Pulling away, Ginny let out an uncharacteristic giggle, relishing in the warmth of an alive Harry.

She shifted her weight, leaning against his side. Her head rest on his shoulder. His arms snaked around her waist. Slot against one another like no time had passed since those days spent by the lake.

That is where they stayed until daylight broke over the horizon.

Days were quiet. Planning funerals drained livelihood out of the Burrow. Ginny found herself helping where she could. Her mum was constantly cooking in the kitchen, so Ginny would help clean. She didn’t speak, she kept her thoughts to herself. When Harry was in the room, they moved like they were dancing. Never touching.

Nights were loud. Hermione would leave her room after everyone officially went to bed to join Ron in his. That was when Ginny would sneak out to fly. Harry would join her minutes later, some joke on his lips about Ron and Hermione and how he wished maybe they went back to fighting. Then they would fly together or sit and talk. Eventually, they would fall asleep under the stars pressed into each other's arms, waking just at the crack of dawn to sneak back into their respective bedrooms.

One bright morning, Ginny followed the scent of fresh breads and sweet sugar down to the kitchen. Her mum hunched over the oven, a faded floral apron tied loosely around her waist. Ginny would not be surprised if she barely missed her mum waking up to slave away in the kitchen right as her and Harry were sneaking back into their beds.

“Morning, mum,” Ginny said, giving her mum a squeeze around the waist.

“Good morning, dear,” her mum replied, leaning into her hug. “I would like you and Charlie to run some errands for me today.”

“Sure,” Ginny said, stealing a pastry from the counter. “What do you need?” She asked, mouth full of scone.

Her mum turned back to the oven to pull out a fresh pie. “I would love it if you could run some of these breads to some families for me. The Browns, the Deacons, and the Rivers. I believe Deacon’s daughter was in your year. Sophie was it?”

The scone in her mouth went stale. Bile rose, burning her throat on the way up. Ginny grabbed a napkin off the counter and spit out the mushed up pastry. “Yeah, Sophie,” Ginny’s voice wavered. She cleared the acid from her throat, pushing the sound of late night giggles about Hogwarts gossip out from her head. “I can do that for you. Where’s Charlie?”

After wrangling her second eldest brother from the yard, the pair apparated, Ginny tightly wrapping her hand around Charlie's arm, to the home of Ron’s ex girlfriend.

Ever the introvert, Charlie left her to do all the talking and condolences.

After giving her final sorrows to the Brown Family, Charlie grabbed her arm and apparated them to the small Wizarding village the Deacon’s lived.

Ginny stumbles forward as her feet crashed into the stepping stones of her dead dormmates home. Steadying herself, Ginny wondered if she would ever get used to apparition. Flying makes sense. Apparating does not.

Grabbing her brother’s arm, she turned him to face her, “Listen, let me do this house alone, yeah?”

Charlie gave her a look, questioning her judgment. “You know you aren’t of age and mum would slit my throat.”

“Please. She was my friend.”

Something in her eyes must have given enough reasoning to Charlie to let her go alone. “I will wait over at the shop across the street. Meet me there when you’re done.”

Ginny pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his thick waist. Charlie was the closest of her siblings to her own height, so she could rest her chin on his shoulder during the embrace. “I won’t be too long.”

She turned away from her brother, the pie her mother gave her rest carefully on her arm. Steadying herself with a shaky breath, she knocked.

A moment passed. And then another. Ginny held her breath as she waited. Maybe she would not have to face them. Maybe she could set the pie down on the step and turn her back and run away from the grief inside the home. But before Ginny could follow her intrusive thoughts, the door opened to a beautiful woman with short auburn hair and laugh lines carved into her face even though she looked as though she had not had a reason to laugh in a long time.

“Hello, my name is Ginn-”

“Ginny come in,” Sophie’s mum invited her in, opening the door wider for Ginny to slip inside.

She shouldn’t be surprised that Mrs. Deacon knew who she was, a classmate of her daughters, a Weasley, a blood traitor whose family housed The Boy Who Lived for years. Ginny did not want to know what the exact reason was that Mrs. Deacon recognized her.

“My mum made this for you,” Ginny said, offering the baked pie that would never fill the Sophie-sized hole in her heart.

“Thank you, that is very sweet of her and sweet of you to drop it off.”

Sophie’s mum took the pie and set it on the kitchen counter filled with other condolence foods. Ginny felt nauseous at the sight.

Ginny sat on the gray loveseat and turned away from the sight and took in the room around her. Light cascaded in and reflected off of the framed photos on the cream wall to brighten the room. Photos of Sophie and her little brother, Samuel, were everywhere. Together with a woman, who must have been their grandmother, standing in Diagon Alley. Sophie singing in the frog choir with her hair tucked back in her signature butterfly clips. Sam tugging on a much younger Sophie’s hair and running away. All moments forever to cycle on repeat, but to never be updated again.

The bile that she swallowed that morning began to rise again.

“Would you like something to drink, dear?” Mrs. Deacon asked, pulling Ginny out of her reverie.

“No, thank you,” Ginny replied, even though she could probably use a glass of water or a shot of firewhiskey.

A grunt from the door leading to the hallway alerted Ginny of Mr. Deacon’s presence. He was a tall man, not as tall as her own father, but much wider. He worked for the Ministry’s Portkey Office. Sophie often boasted about all the places her father traveled for work, and Ginny could see it. A man like him did not belong behind a desk.

“Elric, this is Ginny. She is,” Mrs. Deacon paused, “She was one of Sophie’s classmates.”

Ginny stood to her feet, “Mr. Deacon, I am so sorry for your loss.”

Mr. Deacon waved his hand, his other rubbing his sternum like he too struggled with gastric reflux at the reminder of Sophie.

“I too am sorry for yours. I heard you lost a brother.”

The grief of losing Fred washed over her again like a wave that quickly retreated into a cool, cold nothing. “Yes, I did. Thank you.” Ginny sat back down on the couch. The Deacons sat across from her, gripping each other’s hands.

Silence swept over the room like a cloak. Thick, warm, and suffocating.

Ginny broke the silence first.

“Sophie was-,” Ginny paused, clearing her throat, “she was a beautiful soul. Her voice lit up the dorm room. She would sing under her breath and she studied and then belt songs in the shower. She was wicked at potions and brilliant at Gobstones. She was one of my best friends, and I am so sorry for your loss.”

The all too familiar prickling sensation behind her eyes grew. Rapidly blinking, trying to keep the tears at bay, because she had so much more to say. So she pressed on. “I was there,” Ginny said, looking up to meet Mrs. Deacon’s eye.

The scent of smoke encroached her olfactory system. The feel of Sophie’s manicured hand in her own haunted her skin.

Ginny ignored the memories and pressed on. “When You-Know-Who asked for a pause, I went out to the ground to help.” The words recover bodies left unsaid. “I saw her lying there. She was alive, and she was asking for you. She loved you so much.” The tears building in her eyes escaped, rolling steadily down her cheeks.

"They told us her body was recovered during The Silent Hour, but never by who," Mr. Deacon said, tears brimming his eyes. “Thank you, Ginny.”

The guilt bubbling in her gut was interrupted by footsteps bounding down the steps. Little, 12-year old, Samuel Deacon slid into the room.

“Ginny!” Samuel shouted, eyes filled with joy as though he were seeing a hero. And to him he probably was. She had not seen him in months. Thankfully, Samuel was long gone from Hogwarts during the battle, but the last time she saw him was forever ingrained in her brain. The memory seeped through her pores.

“Pain does not last forever,” Amycus Carrow said to a room full of scared students. “But the memory of it does.” He sauntered across the front of the entrance hall, each step deliberate to draw out the dramatics of what he was saying. Ginny guessed he got this schtick from Tom. “Which is why it makes such an excellent punishment. You remember the pain, so maybe next time you won’t misbehave.” He turned to face her, smiling like a Grindylow ready to to entangle their prey within their long fingers.

“Now can someone please tell me which illiterate idiot graffitied the walls?” Amycus’s voice echoes through the hall. Dozens of eyes stayed focused on the floor. “Was it you?” A finger pointing at a short Hufflepuff boy standing over in the corner. His eyes widened at being called out for a crime he never committed.

“No,” the boy stuttered.

“I don’t believe you,” Amycus sneered, clenching the collar of his cloak, dragging him out into the open. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Sa-Samuel,” the young boy managed to stutter out.

“Well, Sa-Samuel, I hope you remember to never misbehave again.” With those words, Amycus lifted his wand.

Quickly shoving her hand into her bag, fumbling around searching for the jar of paint stashed at the bottom. Her fingers found the cool glass and she yanked it out and threw it at Amycus’s feet.

He turned to meet her, and grinned. The Grindylow caught his prey. “I see I found the illiterate idiot.” He turned his wand to her face, “Crucio.”

“Sam, it is good to see you,” Ginny asked, voice overly pleasant.

To Ginny’s horror, Mrs. Deacon said, “Samuel has told me a lot about you.” She smiled too warmly at her. Like she wasn’t the reason Sam was not almost cursed in the first place. Like she wasn’t the last one to see her daughter alive. Like she deserved forgiveness.

Ginny’s stomach turned and threatened to spill out on their carpet. She needed to leave.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality. I do need to get going.”

Both of the Deacon’s stood immediately.

“Of course,” Mrs. Deacon said.

“Let me walk you out,” Mr. Deacon said.

So Ginny let herself be ushered out. She kept her mouth clamped shut. Afraid to vomit out words along with her guts.

As she reached the door, Mr. Deacon stopped her, “Sophie’s funeral is set on the thirteenth. We would love it if you could make it.”

Ginny couldn’t trust her words, so she nodded in agreement, and burst out the front door. As soon as the door closed, she broke out into a sprint, down to the corner shop where Charlie should be waiting for her.

He was leaning against the side wall, lazily smoking a cigarette.

"Take me home." Ginny said, walking past Charlie.

"But we have one more-"

"Take me home."

Charlie paused before grabbing her arm and spinning on his heel. They arrived in front of the Burrow a second later. Ginny sprinted to the broom shed. Grabbing the closest broom, not even checking whose it belongs to, Ginny kicked off of the ground.

She lapped the Burrow several times, streaking by as fast as the broom allowed her. Up in the air, she could blame her tears on the wind in her eyes instead of the guilt she felt in her heart.

That night, she did not fly.

Hermione snuck out of the room, but Ginny stayed in her bed. Waiting. A soft knock on the door alerted her of his presence. Her bed shifted from his added weight.

They avoided each other that day. Well really, Ginny avoided him and everyone else. Hiding in the sky, and when she was called inside by her mum, she hid in the kitchen. Charlie did not say anything to her, which was a blessing. Her mum did comment on the extra pie brought up, but a quick lie that the Rivers were not home avoided anymore questions.

Harry’s arms snuck around her waist, pulling her against his chest. She tucked herself under his chin as he pressed his nose into her hair. Her hair was still damp from the shower she took earlier that evening, but she knew Harry would not care. In fact, he probably preferred it. The scent of her shampoo freshly washed into her hair. It calmed him.

She wondered if he was struggling with what was going to happen tomorrow as much as she knew she would.

But she did not ask.

Slowly, his breaths evened as he fell asleep behind her. And Ginny fell shortly after.

All mornings have been quiet since the battle at the Burrow. But none compared to this one. Outside, the morning fog was thick and suffocating. Inside, so was the silence.

Weasley family members dressed in black to bury their loudest family member.

When it was time, her father led the family to the grave. Walking in a line to the apparition line on the edge of the Burrow property, and one-by-one apparating to Fred’s final destination. Ginny stood and watched as her loved ones disappeared with a pop. Her dad stood by her side and lifted his arm.

“Ready?”

No.

“Yes,” she said, gripping his arm.

The graveyard was busier than she expected. Her family is large, but so was Fred’s impact.

Old classmates of his, old teammates, old co-workers lined the chairs in the back. Professor McGonagall could be seen from her tall witch’s hat. Hagrid stood off to the side, already loudly sobbing. Ginny felt her tears join his.

She made her way to the front and sat in her seat nestled between Ron and George. The same small wizard that preached at Dumbledore’s funeral and Bill’s wedding stood in the front. A twisted thought crossed her mind about how busy that man is during this week.

And he talked in platitudes. He talked about his sacrifice, how he was a light in the family. But never really about Fred. Ginny wished she had taken the time to write something, then maybe Fred would have gotten the send off he deserved.

George gripped her hand near the end of the small wizard’s speech. “Are you ready to see some magic?”

Ginny grinned, a warmth spreading across her chest. “Always.”

George grinned back at her, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wand. With a small flick of his wrist. A bang behind the gravestones went off.

Gasps wrang out from behind her. Aunt Muriel gave out a shriek of terror, as fireworks lit up the foggy sky.

Sparks flew above her, spelling out the initials F.W. And for the first time all week, Ginny was crying, but she was not upset by it.

After the funeral, the mood was much brighter, the fog outside lifted with the smoke of the fireworks, and Ginny could feel like she could breathe again.

Slowly, the crowd began to thin. Angelina grabbed George’s arm and loudly declared that they were going to the Leaky to celebrate Fred’s life and a group followed her. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur followed shortly after them. After a moment of contemplation, Percy followed suit.

Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading further into the graveyard to where her brothers lay. Her father followed a few steps behind her.

Ron and Hermione were still sitting in their seats. Their chairs were now pushed impossibly close together as Hermione almost sat on Ron’s lap with her head tucked against his chest, and Ron’s face pressed into her hair. Masking the tears that he was shedding.

Ginny steadily made her way up to Fred’s grave. Ash sprinkled the grass from the firework show. She lowered herself to the ground, sitting to the right of the gravestone.

“Hey, Forge,” Ginny murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on the stone. “Miss you.”

Ginny slowly descended down the stairs, unsure exactly which one would creak under her step. She wasn’t sure who would be worse to alert of her late night excursion: her mother or her great aunt.

All she wanted to do was see them and not just take Bill’s word for it that they were safe. Luna. Dean. Hermione. Ron. And of course Harry. Mum nearly locked her in her bedroom when Ginny asked to go to Shell Cottage.

So now she was sneaking to the fireplace in the middle of the night to floo her way over to Shell Cottage. A task significantly less dangerous than any of the times she snuck out in the middle of the night this last year.

The third from the bottom step let out a loud groan.

“Shit.”

“Going somewhere?” A voice from the top of the stairs called down to her. Thankfully, it was the person who would most likely go with her on this adventure.

“I thought getting some nice fresh, saltwater air would be nice at this time of night. Want to come along?” Ginny asked, nodding her head to the living room.

Fred quickly descended the stairs, uncaring if he woke the entire house along the way.

"Is that the plan then? Run off to Shell Cottage without letting anyone know where you're going?"

"You know."

"I know because I caught you sneaking out," Fred retorted. "And when mum and dad wake in the morning and find your bed empty? What will you do after they chain you to your bed?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, "They won't tie me to the bed."

"No, probably not, but you won't be let out of their sight. And when the time comes when it is important for you to sneak out, you won't be able to."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, hating that she didn't understand.

"I'm saying, wait. Wait until something big. I will go with you then. Not when you're sneaking out to see your boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend."

"I didn't realize you were sneaking off to see Thomas. Don't let me stop you then," Fred teased.

"Oh, shove off," Ginny said, pushing his shoulder.

Heavy footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Harry stood above her, head of messy hair blocking the sun. He held his hand out, an offer to help her up.

She took it, pulling herself up and into his arms in one fluid motion. He enveloped her in a hug, holding her tight against his chest. Ginny breathed in the scent of him. Woodsy and cool, like the morning air in the autumn.

Reluctantly, she detangled herself from him, keeping her hand intertwined in his. There they stood, hand in hand, staring down at Fred Weasley’s grave.

Fred Weasley

1/4/1978 - 2/5/1998

Mischief

Harry gave her fingers a squeeze before letting go. He bent down in front of Fred’s grave. He paused for a second, before pulling out his wand, waving it carefully. A bouquet of daisies appeared in the dirt. Fresh and white. Harry stood, reaching back for her hand, but refusing to look at her.

“Hermione and I went to my parent’s graves on Christmas. She did this,” Harry said, waving his hands at the flowers on the ground, “I thought Fred deserved some too.” He bent down and picked one from the ground, “Daisies mean new beginnings.”

He shifted his weight, "or at least that's what Hermione told me when she showed me how to do the spell."

Ginny’s gut twisted into a knot. "They're beautiful," was all she could muster out. She wasn't sure she wanted a new beginning. She wanted to start all over.

"For you," Harry said, handing her a single flower.

Ginny smiled and accepted the pity flower. Harry didn't believe in the pity flowers either, but it was thoughtful, so Ginny tucked it into her pocket.

When she got home later that night, she tossed it into her windowsill. With hope that maybe the rest of the summer improved from the beginning.

The next several days were spent in mourning. Traveling from funeral to funeral.

Colin’s funeral was hard because she spent 30 minutes before leaving being coached by Hermione on the intricacies of a muggle funeral. Obviously, no fireworks like Fred’s nor an ablaze casket like at Dumbledore’s. But instead a metal contraption that would slowly lower his wooden casket into the ground.

She sat near front on the side with Neville and Seamus on either side of her. Harry with Ron and Hermione in the back, trying to keep attention off of them as much as possible.

Ginny grieved for her friend. Her Herbology partner. The person who never tired answering her questions about the Muggle World. The same sinking feeling that ebbed and flowed in her since the battle came back. She was the reason why he lost half of his first year lying petrified in the hospital wing. Tom was the reason he lost the rest of his life.

Tonks and Remus’s funerals were next. Members of the Order carried both caskets. Kingsley had tears streaming down his face with Tonks’ casket on his shoulders. Her dad looked more tired than usual under the weight of Remus’s casket.

Only one other gravestone stood in the ground on the plot of land. Tonks’ final resting place lay next to the empty grave of her father whose body was never recovered.

In the last row sat Andromeda cradling a young Teddy Lupin. Remus showed her a picture of young Teddy when he visited the Weasley’s at Muriel’s place. Then, his hair was a bright orange. Now, it lacked any sign of vibrance, instead he wore Remus’s signature sandy hair.

Next to Andromeda sat Narcissa, poised, dressed head to toe in expensive black robes. Looking every bit out of place Ginny is sure she felt.

Harry did a double-take after he noticed her next to his godson. Ginny reached forward and laced her fingers with his, offering a squeeze of comfort. On the other side of Harry, Ron pulled Hermione closer to his body.

Instead of the small wizard, Kingsley stood in front of the graves and gave a speech about hope and love and loss. A personal story about Tonks catching a death eater by tripping on top of him was interrupted by wails coming from the back row.

Little Teddy’s uncontrollable sobs echoed in the cemetery. Andromeda tried shushing him to no avail. Narcissa stood, offering a hand, a moment passed before Andromeda passed over her grandson to her sister. Narcissa carried Teddy further away from the funeral and whispers of the guests.

“She has no right,” hissed Ron.

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, his leg bouncing, looking everything but fine.

Kingsley continued on with Teddy’s sobs quieted by distance. Ron kept anxiously looking over his shoulder back at Narcissa while Hermione stared straight forward. Harry leaned forward in his seat, releasing his grip on her hand.

Ginny, for her part, kept listening to Kingsley and silently wondered if she would ever fully understand what happened with those three last year.

The funeral ended with Kingsley and Gawain Robards casting golden sparks at the pair of caskets before they slowly descended into the ground.

Gradually, the crowd began to thin out. Narcissa carefully returned to her sister’s side off in the back, swaying back and forth, cradling a sleepy Teddy in her arms.

Harry stood and started to make his way back towards where his Godson was.

“Mr. Potter. May I have a word?” Gawain Robards asked.

Harry froze momentarily, and Ginny wondered if he was going to tell the Head Auror to fuck right off before he calmly nodded. Robards stuck out his hand, leading Harry away from the crowds, in the opposite direction of Narcissa Malfoy.

Ginny stood frozen next to Ron and Hermione, both just as conflicted as she felt on whether they should eavesdrop on Robards and Harry’s conversation or confront Mrs. Malfoy.

Her mum approached the Black sisters. Ginny snuck over to the back, Ron and Hermione following her closely, ready to witness whatever drama could unfold between Molly Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy. But instead of sharp words or curses shot from wands, her mum swept both Andy and Narcissa into a warm embrace

“I am so sorry about your sister,” Mum said, pulling away from the Black sisters.

Narcissa placed a hand on her mum’s arm, “We do anything to protect our children.” She gave Andromeda a curt nod and took a slender finger to brush Teddy’s cheek. “I won’t intrude any longer than I meant to. It was good to see you, Andy.”

With a pop, Narcissa disappeared.

Harry stormed by a few seconds later, Robards still standing where Harry left him, hand rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice questioned.

“Later,” Harry shortly replied before apparating off, not even sparing Ginny a second glance.

Hermione sighed, turning to Ron. “Ready?” Ron gripped her hand and then both disappeared with another pop.

“Wanker,” Ginny muttered under her breath, “You were supposed to apparate me home.”

Kicking a rock on the ground, Ginny begrudgingly walked back to where her mother was now rocking Teddy.

On the thirteenth, Ginny dressed once again in black. Hermione and her traded their black robes so they were not wearing the exact same outfit to every funeral they attended. By the fourth day of funerals, Fleur was offering her wardrobe to them as well, altering her clothes to fit their bodies.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended every funeral, each of them feeling like they owed it to the witch or wizard who lost their life. Just yesterday, they attended the funeral of a Slytherin fifth year girl that none of them had even met. Ginny joined them most days. Harry side-along apparating her to the graveyard. Occasionally, other members of the D.A. would be in attendance and Ginny would stand next to them.

Harry planned on arriving right before the funeral started, but Ginny wanted to be there as early as possible. Hermione’s heels clicked as she walked down the Burrow steps into the kitchen. “Ready, Ginny?”

Together they apparated to a large wizarding cemetery. A place where thousands of purebloods were buried before. A place that currently had an unusually high amount of fresh mounds of dirt and 6 foot holes due to the significant amount of deaths during the war.

Ginny found her dormmates immediately. Jessica embracing Elise with Athena rubbing circles on her back. They all looked up as Ginny and Hermione approached the trio.

Jessica let go of Elise to engulf Ginny into a hug. "I am so sorry about Fred, Ginny."

"Thank you, Jess."

Jessica paused before wrapping Hermione in a hug as well.

Athena pulled something out of her pocket and placed it in Ginny’s hand.

"Here."

Opening her palm, Ginny felt that familiar tug of her gut. In her hand was a green butterfly clip, similar to the ones Sophie often donned in her hair. Looking up, she saw her roommates all had one clipped in their hair as well.

"Thank you," Ginny choked out, clipping her loose strands back.

"Do you want to sit with us?" Athena asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head, "Thank you for the invite, but Ron and Harry should be arriving soon. I will sit with them in the back. You four should sit together."

Hermione gave Ginny’s shoulder a squeeze before walking to the back row of chairs.

The funeral started not too long later. Ginny pressed between Athena and Elise near the front. The four dormmates held hands the entire time, offering gentle squeezes of support to one another as they buried their friend. Little Samuel Deacon sobbed throughout the entire procession, and Ginny wished nothing more than him to have his sister back.

Ginny stayed back after the funeral to watch Harry approach the Deacon family. It was something he did after every burial, apologize to the family. Ginny wished Harry understood that Sophie’s death was not his fault.

Samuel turned away from his parents and gave her a small wave. Ginny lifted her hand, but turned away. The nausea associated with Sophie was churning in her stomach once again.

That night, with her back pressed against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her churning stomach, she lay frozen still.

"You okay?" Harry murmured in her ear.

She wasn't, but she couldn't admit that secret out loud. Especially to the person who carried so much more guilt than she could even begin to imagine. So she lied.

"I'm fine."

Harry had no reason to believe her lie, since it was his favorite lie to tell too. But he pretended for her, pulling her closer to his chest, pressing his lips to the back of her skull.

Not shortly after, his breaths evened out as he was lulled to sleep. Ginny’s brain was ignited on fire, keeping her awake.

“I know, it’s going to be alright,” Ginny lied. Sophie continued to whimper in pain. Ginny could only bear to look at her face, scared of what the rest of her crushed body may look like.

“I want to go home,” Sophie cried out, tears leaking down her face. Ginny felt tears well up in her eyes too.

A sound from behind her drew her away from her dying friend. Ginny couldn’t see anyone, but something in her wanted to get up and follow.

Sophie’s weak cough drew her back in. Blood tinged on her lips, her face losing color as each second passed. “Will you stay with me until I go?” Sophie asked, her voice childlike. She is just a child, Ginny realized. At 17 years old, there was so much Sophie never experienced. So many people Sophie was leaving behind. Ginny’s gut flipped realizing this is why her own mother wanted her to stay hidden.

“Of course,” Ginny choked out.

Sophie’s fingers managed to find Ginny’s. “It’s okay, Gin. You were one of my best of friends.”

Ginny snapped herself out of the memory. Harry still wrapped tightly around her, his heat radiating off his body suffocating her. She wrestled herself out from underneath him, desperately trying to not wake him. She needed fresh air.

Barefoot in the grass, Ginny padded to the paddock and grabbed her broom. She took flight and hoped the night air could cool the fire she felt in her brain.

As the sun began to crack streaks of light in the sky, Ginny crept back into her bedroom. Harry softly snored in her sheets. Ginny smiled as she slid back into his arms. She had been awake for nearly 24 hours, her brain was finally exhausted enough to finally fall asleep.

With no more funerals to attend, the rest of May trickled by. Everyone was stagnant with grief, finding it difficult to progress on. Charlie was growing restless, staying now at Shell Cottage with Bill and Fleur, but not feeling like he could abandon the family back in Romania just yet. Every time he mentioned the country, her mum would burst into tears.

Percy was just there. All the time. He and her dad would attend work, but then he would always come back to the Burrow instead of his own apartment.

Ginny sat with George most days. They had a quiet understanding that talking was the last thing either one of them wanted to do. A few days a week, they would go to Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes and organize the mess. Some days, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson would stop by and help up, filling in the silence with endless chatter. Other days, the pair would sit on the front counter, passing back and forth a bottle of butterbeer with the radio blasting Wizard Rock in the background.

Ron and Hermione were wrapped around each other at all times of the day. One couldn't even use the toilet without the other hovering nearby on the stairwell.

She had not seen Harry in days due to conflicting schedules. He would fall asleep in her bed after a long day of performing bullshit politics with Kingsley, and Ginny would join him after her nightly flight. When she finally rose in the late morning, his side of her bed would be cold.

Moments alone were rare, and those moments were spent exploring each other's bodies instead of exploring each other's thoughts. They were two vastly different novels only sharing a page with one another and then snapping the book shut before either one could read any further. So Ginny came to her own conclusions.

The burn marks on his thighs were fresh as though his escape dragon from Gringotts scorched him. The ribs she traced with finger in the dark told her that food was scarce. The lightning shaped scar on his chest told a horror story she didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. The erythematous circle branded into his chest was the most confusing part of his story.

Ginny hated to think what conclusions Harry was drawing from her body.

On a cool evening in late May, Ginny decided to actually retire to bed at a reasonable time. The sky had opened into a massive thunderstorm which was not relenting any time soon. Harry and her had played a round of Exploding Snap earlier in the day to pass the time.

"Are you falling asleep with me tonight?" Harry asked, bare legs crossed on her bed, his hand propped behind his head. He looked so casual, like her bed was his own.

"Only if you promise not to snore tonight," Ginny teased.

A pillow flew at her face. Ginny snapped it from the air and threw it right back into Harry’s face. With glasses askew and a smile tugging at his lips, Harry reached out a hand to her.

She eagerly took it, being led to her own bed.

Ginny melted into Harry’s side, his hands immediately resting on her hips pulling her close. She tilted her chin to slot her lips against his.

This part was easy. Harry’s body was a map she had traced and memorized a year ago, and, during the quiet dark nights in her dorm room, she recited to herself.

His lips were soft and chapped. Teeth grazing her own lips, threatening to roughen her up with a bite or two. His chest pressed against her own. His hands, one always wrapped around a strand of her hair, tugging her whenever she pressed up against him just right. His strong thighs, one always slotted in between her legs.

That was the mantra she replayed in her head over and over while her fingers wandered down her skin last year.

But now, in the dark of her warm bedroom, it was Harry’s fingers trailing down her body.

“You’re perfect,” Harry murmured into her collarbone as she moaned his name.

Ginny came undone with the touch of his fingertips, her world bursting, once again, into a fire. Her insides ignited for Harry. She felt far from perfect, but with Harry she felt alive.

Her hands worked to remove his faded T-shirt, eager to return the favor. Fingers trailed down his chest, avoiding the new scars on his body. She wrapped her hand around his length and Harry’s breath hitched, a noise escaping his mouth that Ginny wanted to bottle up and savor forever. He never had to say anything to her ever again as long as he kept making that noise.

“Ginny,” Harry moaned, “I don’t think I will last much long-”

Ginny shut him up by capturing his mouth with her own. Teeth grazing his swollen lips. With a few more pumps, Harry shuddered about another moan that made Ginny’s toes curl.

Harry blinked his eyes open, green irises hidden behind his black pupils, staring hungerly at her. He pressed lazy kisses along her jawline, nose, forehead, before finally catching her lips. “You make me forget everything bad,” Harry sighed into her lips.

Ginny’s insides turned cold, the blazing heat evaporated and replaced by an icy tundra. She wasn’t sure why, Harry’s confession or the idea of forgetting, losing memories.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Ginny said, hoping to prevent any more confessions from slipping through his loose lips.

“Night, Gin” Harry replied softly.

Harry’s bare chest rose and fell with each breath, and Ginny wished nothing more than the ability to join him in unconsciousness. Her finger traced the lightning bolt on his chest, her own chest tightening with memories of that day. She thought she lost him. The final blow in a series of blows that kept hitting her over and over again that night.

With everything she lost, she had to keep taking steps. One at a time.

One breath in. One breath out.

Ginny glanced out her window. The rain had slowed to a trickle. The blooming daisy sitting in the window sill caught her eye. She bolted up from her bed, grabbing the flower on her way out the door.

The orchard was still a mess. Her mum had removed the destroyed flowers, but all that was left was upturned earth. Falling to her hands and knees, Ginny dug in the soil. A wand would have made it easier, but she did not want easy.

Taking a step back and admiring her work, the daisy Harry had given her now rooted in the soil of the orchard. Alone. With a promise of growth.

To new beginnings.

The best and worst day of June (chapter 2)

If May trickled slowly like the water on the River Styx, June crashed in like a tsunami under Poseidon's rage.

The back door slammed close after George drunkenly stumbly out

Maps of Australia and pictures of the brain were pinned up on her walls. Gwenog Jones’s face was covered by a colorful poster highlighting the anatomy of the brain.

“Do you need any help?” Ginny asked.

Hermione tutted, wrapping her hair into a bun and sticking her want through it. “I wouldn’t mind a fresh pair of eyes. Thanks.”

Ginny picked up one of the massive textbook with a brain on the cover Charms of the Central Nervous System: Don’t be Nervous! Opening to the back glossary, Ginny scanned the O’s until she found what she was looking for.

Peering over her shoulder, Hermione said “I didn’t obliviate my parents’ memories. I blocked them.”

“What’s the difference?”

Hermione stood from the bed and walked over to the brain poster covering Gwenog’s face. “Obliviation destroys old memories. Burns them. That is why Gilderoy Lockhart will never fully recover because so much of his brain was destroyed. If little bits are taken then there is some neuroplasticity and ability to regenerate what was missing, but if I took 17 years of my parents' lives from them, I would never be able to get that back.” She paused, staring off into the distance, as though she was realizing the challenge she could be facing instead.

Shaking her head, Hermione continued. “So instead of taking away their memories, I hid them behind a wall.”

“The hippocampus stores memories,” Hermione said, pointing to a part of the brain that looked nothing like a seahorse. “So that is where my parents’ memories are being blocked. I just put their old memories behind a wall and put new memories in front of that wall.”

“There has not been a whole lot of research, but in theory, worst case scenario, if I remove their new memories too quickly, I could cause their brain to blow.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Not like pew pew,” Hermione said, mimicking an explosion. “More like, their brains would swell to fill in the space of the memories that I took back. Which could cause their brain to expand and possibly herniate causing a stroke."

She mindlessly flipped through the pages of the textbook, hoping something would give her hints about memory and memory loss.

Ginny drops comments every now and then about memory loss

She is not very happy that Hermione took her parents memories

“What are you planning on telling your parents when you see them?”

“That I am their daughter and I had to keep them safe.”

“Do you think they will understand?”

“From personal experience, amnesia and having your memories taken from you can be very traumatizing.”

“This is different from the diary, Ginny. I was trying to keep them safe.”

As we will find out in a later chapter, Ginny is not talking about the diary

"Are you going to go with them?" Ginny asks on a warm night.

"No, I don't fancy facing another Winter so soon," Harry replied

And there it was. A hint about what he had faced this past year, but neither one pushed forward. She could ask, and he might answer, but then he might ask the same of her. And that was something she did not want to answer. Some Gryffindor she is.

Harry tells her everything about the horcruxes and how we was one for the last 16 years of his life.

Ginny tells Harry very little about what she experienced this last year.

Hermione goes up to switch beds like they do every night and when Harry is lying next to her, she dreams about him. But when he talks she hears Tom. When she wakes and Harry is laying right next to her, she freaks the fuck out.

The next day she runs away to Lunas

Luna “I always liked being outside. Now I love it even more. It is open, and bright. I’m not a big fan of the dark right now.”

“If you want to talk about it, I will happily listen.”

“Ginny, you are such a good listener, but not a very good talker.”

“You should tell Ron that. He says I never shut up.”

“Oh no you talk, you just don’t talk about what is bothering you. You ask questions about me or how other people are doing, but when people ask how you are doing. You deflect. You talk about how Quidditch is going, or how your family is. But never you.

A few nights later, Harry joins her out flying, and that is when she admits that she is afraid that she was never in love with Harry, but she was attracted to the horcrux within him this entire time.

Harry has to put his big boy pants on and try to be emotionally mature hearing that from her. (Boy does not do a very good job, but at least he is trying)

He tries to get her to open up more about what happened to her and slowly we start to see some things

She picked up a strand of grass, carefully pulling it apart into two separate pieces. A simple distraction. "What do you know of last year?"

"Only what little Neville has told me."

"I'm sure what he told you paints the picture of what happened," she shrugged. She couldn't meet his gaze, she stared at the grass in her hand, delicately tying it into a knot. His hand reached for hers, fingers intertwining. He squeezed her hand gently, reassuringly. Offering support.

---

She is hiding. She doesn’t want to talk to Harry, or see her mum’s broken face. So she is hiding in the one place no one would look.

Laying on Fred’s bed, she could finally be alone.

***enter depressing thoughts here***

---

On June 22nd, she dreams of Tom. She always dreams of him on this day. Their anniversary of meeting face to face in a chamber meant to be a secret. She wants to ask Harry if he remembers, but she doesn't dare for the fear of what he might say.

I forgot.

Lucky you.

So she keeps this nightmare to herself just like she kept the past year to herself. She felt like she was slowly becoming a chamber full of secrets herself.

That night, with her back against Harry’s chest and one of his arms draped across her stomach, was the first time she felt brave all day. In the dark where he couldn’t see her face, when they were alone, unlikely to be overheard since the house was asleep. She finally muttered the truth that haunted her.

“I'm the reason Sophie's dead.”

The only indication that Harry heard her was the pause in his breath. Harry’s arm tightened, pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. And because he understands her perfectly, he does not suggest that she possibly could not be a murderer, he asks a different question.

“Why do you think so?”

She inhales slowly, calming down her nerves. “I left her on the courtyard. We were fighting together, Colin and Seamus were also there. Spells were flying everywhere, and I lost her in the crowd. There just was so much chaos. Then a death eater was in front of me, I think it was Avery, firing curse after curse at me,” Ginny paused, flashes of that night playing over and over in her mind. “I fired a reducto at the arch above his head and it collapsed on top of him. But it caused a lot more damage. It wasn’t much later that Voldemort called for a pause.

“After, well after, I went inside,” Ginny said, skipping over finding out about Fred’s death, “I went out to the courtyard to find survivors. To help. That is where I found her. Underneath the rubble that I caused.”

"You couldn’t have known.”

But Ginny felt like she should have known better. She knew innocent actions have consequences after surviving her first year

I've been down since July

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you

The Great Depression

Pieces of her life were black. Dark and missing and forgotten. She had soared to unimaginable heights to try to find them, but every time she thought she heard a whisper of a memory, it turned into his voice mocking her, or worse, her own voice laughing at her.

Hermione and Ron come back from Australia

Hermione apologizes to Ginny because her mum cannot forgive her. Her dad had to play mediator in the argument.

Her parents are coming back to England eventually, but not yet. They wanted more time before returning home.

Ron and Ginny conversation

"It's supposed to be easy. Harry and me. How it was before."

"What did you used to talk about."

"I tried prying once to know what he was up to with Dumbledore, but Harry not so subtly shut that down quickly. So we stuck to safe topics. Quidditch, O.W.L.s, how maroon definitely isn't your color."

Ron scowled.

Criminal Trials get announced for the Death Eaters and the date

A brown owl flew into the kitchen, dropping off the newest edition of the Daily Prophet on Hermione’s plate. She reached into her shorts pocket to trade a knut for the paper. Ron fed a small piece of his breakfast sausage to the owl as compensation as well. The owl gave a satisfied hoot before flapping its wings and flying out of the kitchen window.

Ginny pointed her fork at her brother. "Who was the person I suggested you snogged for practice?"

"Are you seriously asking me security questions right now?"

"The Ron Weasley I know would never voluntarily give up some of his breakfast."

Ron stabbed his fork in another piece of sausage, taking the whole thing in his mouth, "Yeah well I've matured."

"Oh! They released the dates for the trails!" Hermione shouted, interrupting them.

Ron looked away from her and turned back to his girlfriend. “When’s Malfoy’s?” He asked, kindly swallowing his food before asking.

The Carrow trials get announced for like August 13th, making sure that they are AFTER Ginny's birthday which makes her an adult, therefore, she is required to speak at them if they summon her as a witness

yeah this was done intentionally, fuck the ministry for forcing my girl to have to relive her trauma

Harry’s birthday

Ginny gets drunk at Harry’s party

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?

August slipped away

Ginny’s birthday

Carrow trials

Amycus was a man. He only understood pain in tears and in blood. He didn’t understand that to girls blood meant nothing more than washing their sheets that night before bed. He didn’t understand that girlhood was pain, or that tears could be shed from grief or laughter.

Alecto was a woman. She understood that trauma of girlhood because no matter how horrid she currently is, she was a victim of it too. She understood how to torture a young girl scared of her past. She knew how to weaponize memories, or the lack thereof, so that Ginny could continue to torture herself without Alecto lifting another finger.

Ginny turned to the other side of the courtroom where Amycus Carrow sat. His face emotionless, but his muddy eyes filled with glee, like her reliving her torture was *erotic* for him.

She felt her heart quicken. Calm down.

Breathe in and out.

"Her brother told me."

Her mind brought her back to the floor of the DADA classroom. Those same hungry brown eyes staring down at her, his wand still raised. Every one of her nerve endings felt like it was on fire, every synapse filled with ice. Her mind bounced from one area of her body to the next, unable to focus on what body system hurt the most. Amycus lowered his wand and sneered down at her, "I know Alecto makes you forget her detentions, but I want this one to be unforgettable."

The courtroom was silent. The judge leaned forward in his chair, "Can you please further explain, Miss Weasley?"

Breathe In.

Out.

In.

Out.

• So since I never actually wrote what happened to Ginny during her time with Alecto, I will tell you all now. Alecto would erase Ginny's memory after every detention. Often times, the detentions were tame, because the punishment was the fact that Ginny was slowly losing her mind and she felt like she was reliving her first year at Hogwarts. Alecto figured out that Ginny was the girl in the chamber (because how would people not know this information? like Ginny wrote her suicide note on the wall in red paint) and used that to torment her. Also tying in the fact that Amycus was still torturing my poor girl with the cruciatus curse, Ginny was going through it. And it is not like she could really tell anyone what was happening to her because she didn't know what was happening to her. She eventually pieced it together.

• The coming together of Harry and Ginny officially

You'll Have New Septembers

The epilogue where Harry sends Ginny off on the Hogwarts express

#graveyard fic #hinny #ginny weasley #i could just upload the first chapter.... but that also feels like a disservice to the rest of the fic #Spotify

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anastasiareadsnwrites · 2 days

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Can you do one for Anthony x Male reader where reader is an open minded writer with more…… scandalous erotic melancholia and decides to show Anthony he can please him better than any woman.

Be Wherever You Are (Anthony Bridgerton x Male! Reader)

Author's note: Hiya, it's been awhile and I know this came out late as well as the Benedict fanfic as well but I am working on finishing the series I have out for the mothers of the Ton. Please if this wasn't to your liking request another one or point out some tips for future requests. Thank you so much for requesting!

Summary: As days passed on with your writing you couldn't help but notice that some of the men in your story had basically described the man you were starting to grow close with. Being the bold person you are you couldn't help but make your move

Warning(s): NSFW, 18+, bold! reader, sexual tension, describing muscular bodies, Anthony gets a little jealous, scandalous yearnings, oral sex, Anthony! recieving, Reader! giving, more to be added.

The MAIN Masterlist

The Bridgerton Masterlist

The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the dimly lit study, casting flickering shadows across the grand room. Anthony Bridgerton sat behind his desk, his brows furrowed as he poured over a stack of papers-estate matters, no doubt, the weight of responsibility ever-present on his shoulders. The world outside these walls saw him as nothing but the proper Viscount, the head of the Bridgerton family, always in control, always composed.

But you had come to know him differently.

Leaning against the door frame, you observed him quietly, the air between you thick with something unspoken. It had been weeks since you'd grown closer, you conversations no longer confined to polite society. In your stories, in the stolen glances, in the unguarded moments, you'd both begun to unravel before each other.

The flames in the hearth case a golden hue on Anthony's sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw as he worked tirelessly, ever the perfectionist. Yet, you could see it-the weariness in his eyes, the subtle sag of his shoulders. He was a man in need of something more than duty and tradition.

And tonight, you were bold enough to give it to him.

Stepping into the room, your presence commanded his attention instantly. He didn't look up right away, but you could sense the way his body tensed, the way his feathered pen faltered ever so slightly. Without a word, you moved closer, your footsteps soft against the Persian rug, until you were standing across from him, just a breath away.

"You always surround yourself with work," you said, voice low, carrying the weight of the moment. "Don't you tire of it?"

Anthony finally glanced up, his dark eyes locking onto yours, the flicker of something dangerous lurking in them. He didn't answer right away, his gaze trailing over your form with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"What I tire of is being questioned about matters that don't concern you," he replied, his voice measured but with an edge that betrayed his frustration.

You smirked, undeterred by his attempt at resistance. "Is that so? And here I thought you might enjoy the company of someone who sees more of you than just the Viscount."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze hardening-but you knew better. Beneath his facade, you had already seen glimpses of the man behind the title. And tonight, you would see even more.

You took another step closer, leaning over the desk just enough for the firelight to catch your face, your eyes meeting his with unmistakable intent.

"I see you, Anthony Bridgerton," you whispered, "and I think it's time you let someone else take control, if only for a little while."

Anthony's eyes narrowed, but not with anger-there was something else there. A flicker of uncertainty, perhaps even desire, the kind he was used to suppressing. The air between you was electric, charged with the weight of things left unsaid.

"Take control?" he repeated, his voice tight, almost mocking, but you could hear the strain behind it. "You overestimate your influence."

You smiled, the kind of smile that made your intentions clear without a single word needing to be said. Slowly, you moved around the desk, not breaking eye contact with him for even a moment. You could see the tension in the his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the armrests of the chair just a little too hard. He was trying to maintain his composure, to keep his distance, but the fire in his eyes betrayed him.

"Oh, Anthony," you said softly, standing beside him now. You let your hand rest lightly on his shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath his jacket. "I think you've been in control long enough."

His breath hitched, just for a moment, before he converted it up with a scoff. "This isn't a game."

"No," you agreed, leaning down to whisper in his ear, your lip just barely brushing the edge of his skin. "But you and I both know you're tired of pretending."

You could feel the way his body stiffened beneath your touch, but he didn't pull away. His hands remained on the armrests, knuckles white, his chest rising and falling in measured breaths as if he was trying to will himself back into the Viscount's rigid armor.

"I am not pretending," he finally said, though his voice lacked it usual conviction.

You straightened up, your fingers trailing lightly from his shoulder down the length of his arm before you leaned against the desk in front of him. The firelight danced in your eyes as you watched him, letting the silence stretch between you.

"Really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Then why haven't you stopped me?"

Anthony's jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked away, his gaze settling on the fire burning low in the hearth. He was fighting it-fighting you-but you knew you had already won. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to you, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"This is highly inappropriate," he said, though the words came out softer than they should have.

You leaned in, your face inches from his, daring him to push you away.

"Is it?" you whispered, your breath mingling with his. "Or is this exactly what you want?"

For a moment, you thought he might argue, might stand up and walk out, but then his hand twitched on the armrests, his fingers finally relaxing. His breath was shallow now, and when his eyes locked onto yours again, all traces of resistance were gone.

"Show me," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. "Show me that you can give me what no other woman can."

Your smiled widened, knowing that this was the moment everything changed. You stepped closer, your hands brushing over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his waistcoat.

"As you wish, Anthony," you whispered, your lips hovering just above his. "But remember.... you're the one who asked."

With that, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both fierce and gentle, a collision of control and surrender. Anthony tensed at first, as though this was something he wasn't used to-being on the receiving end-but then, slowly, you felt him relax under your touch, his hands finally reaching up to grip your waist.

The kiss deepened, and for the first time, you could feel him let go. The walls he had built around himself, the armor of his title, the expectations-it all began to crumble as he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to feel something more than duty.

You pulled away just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. His eyes were dark, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, as though he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"This is only the beginning, Anthony," you whispered, your voice low and full of promise. "I'll show you want it feels like to be truly wanted...and to let go."

As you hovered close to him, your hands still resting on his chest, you could feel Anthony's breath starting to steady, but there was something else-something weighing on his mind. His eyes flickered with a sudden sharpness, as though he had remembered something important.

"I saw it," Anthony said, his voice low, almost husky, but laced with something more-a challenge, perhaps. "The draft on your latest story. You left it open on the desk last time you visited."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued, though you didn't pull away. "Did you now?"

His lips curled into a faint, almost teasing smile, but his eyes were serious. "It's funny how your protagonist...how he reminded me of someone."

You let your hands drift lower, fingers tracing over the fabric of his waistcoat, but you didn't break eye contact. "Is that so? And who might that be?"

Anthony's breath hitched as your hands slid down to his belt, your fingers working the buckle with practiced ease. You could feel the tension in his body heighten, but he remained still, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Someone who spends his days pretending he doesn't want things he shouldn't," Anthony murmured, his voice rough as you undid the belt, the soft clink of metal filling the room. "Someone who think duty can replace desire."

You chuckled softly, your fingers now teasing at the buttons of his trousers, working them loose with slow, deliberate movements. "I suppose you could say that the protagonist is inspired by someone," you whispered, your voice full of wicked amusement.

Anthony's breath grew shallower, his chest rising and falling as his trousers loosened beneath your hands, the fabric slipping from your fingers, revealing more of him. "And what is it that he wants?" Anthony asked, his voice barely more than a whisper now, but the question was heavy, loaded with meaning.

Your hands paused, fingers lightly brushing against the bare skin of his hips as you leaned in closer, your lips grazing the side of his neck. His pulse raced beneath your touch, and you could feel the weight of his anticipation hanging in the air.

"He wants," you murmured, letting the word linger in the space between you, "to be freed from the chains he's put on himself...to be claimed, to be wanted, in ways no one else dares to want him."

Anthony swallowed hard, his body trembling ever so slightly beneath your touch. You could feel his control slipping away, his composure cracking as your fingers dipped lower, brushing against the heat of his skin.

"And who is it that claims him in the story?" Anthony asked, though his voice was strained now, almost as if he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from your lips.

You leaned in, your mouth hovering just over his, your breath hot against his skin. "Someone bold enough to see him for who he truly is...and who isn't afraid to take what they want."

With one swift motion, you undid the last of his trousers, letting them fall to the floor, freeing him completely, your hands grazing along the edge of his bare hips. Anthony gasped, his control faltering completely as his hands gripped the arms of the chair, his head falling back slightly as he surrendered to the moment.

You stood there for a moment, admiring the sight of him-the usually unshakable Viscount, vulnerable, exposed, and at your mercy. The firelight flickered across his bare skin, casting shadows that dances with the unspoken tension between you.

"Now tell me, Anthony," you whispered, your voice low and commanding. "Is this where your story ends, or is it just the beginning?"

The weight of the moment hung in the air, heavy and electric, as you glanced up at him, meeting his gaze with a look that spoke volumes. He was waiting, teetering on the edge of control, the authority he wielded in every other aspect of his life slipping further with each passing second.

Without a word, you got onto your knees in front of him and leaned forward, your lips brushing against his length, teasing him, barely touching at first. Anthony's entire body tensed, his grip tightening on the arms of the chair, his breath catching in his throat.

You smirked, pleased by his reaction. You had him exactly where you wanted him-no more pretense. Slowly, you parted your lips, your mouth enveloping the tip of him with gently pressure. The heat of him the taste, filled your senses as you moved, taking him in inch by inch, your tongue swirling against his sensitive skin.

Anthony's head fell back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut as a low, guttural moan escaped him. His hand moved as though to stop you-his last attempt at control-but it faltered, fingers curling into the armrest instead his resolve crumbling.

You moved with purpose now, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm, your lips and tongue working together to bring him pleasure. Each time you pulled back, you teased him with just the tip of your tongue, before sinking down again, deeper this time, letting him feel the full warmth of your mouth. His hips shifted involuntarily, his body reacting to the sensations, even as he tried to keep himself still, tried to maintain some semblance of composure.

But it was no use. Anthony's breaths came out in ragged bursts, his body trembling as you continued to work him over, the wet sounds of your mouth filling the room, mingling with the crackling of the fire. You could feel the tension in him building, the way his though tightened beneath your hands, the way his muscles quivered under your touch. He was losing himself in this moment, and you loved it-loved seeing him like this, vulnerable and at your mercy.

You paused for a brief second, just long enough for Anthony to groan in protest, his eyes snapping open, dark with need. "Don't...stop," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, his control slipping with each word.

You smiled, your hands lightly stroking him as you spoke. "Who's in control now, Viscount?"

Anthony didn't answer. He couldn't His mouth opened, but the only sound that came out was a low, needy moan as you took him into your mouth once more, your hand working in tandem with your lips, faster now, pushing him closer to the edge.

His breathing was erratic, his body moving with you now, no longer able to hold back. You could feel him getting closer, the way his muscles tightened, the way his moans became more desperate, more raw. You pushed him further, sucking harder, faster, your tongue flicking against the most sensitive part of him, until-

"God-" Anthony's voice broke as his body tensed, every muscle tightening as he reached the peak of pleasure. His hips jerked involuntarily, his hand gripping the chair so hard his knuckles went white as he came, his release filling your mouth in hot, pulsing waves.

You didn't stop until he had given you everything, your mouth and hand working together to milk every last bit of pleasure from him. Only then did you pull back, swallowing and licking your lips as you looked up at him, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

Anthony sat there, breathless, his head still tilted back, chest heaving, his eyes closed as he struggled to regain some semblance of control. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire and the sound of his labored breathing.

You stood slowly, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "I told you....no one could please you like this."

Anthony's eyes opened slowly, meeting yours with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. For the first time, he looked at you not as the Viscount, not as the man always in control, but ask someone who had been utterly, completely undone.

And he liked it.

Anthony's chest still rose and fell with the remnants of his release, but as the silence settled over the room, something new flickered in his eyes- something darker. He watched you, his gaze sharp and intense, but not with the softness of vulnerability that had been there moments ago. Instead, a shadow of jealousy clouded his expression.

You hadn't even had time to fully stand before Anthony's hand shot out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength, pulling you back down toward him. His gaze bore into yours, his voice low, edged with suspicion.

"Tell me," he murmured, his tone filled quiet intensity. "Do all the men in your stories end like this? Growing 'close' with you like this?"

The question hung in the air, thick with jealousy, his fingers tightening around your wrist as though he were afraid you might slip away, just like the words he was too proud to say aloud. You could hear the accusation in his voice, see it in his eyes-the doubt, the possessiveness. Anthony Bridgerton, the man who had always been in control, was now desperate to know if he was special...or just another conquest.

A slow smile spread across your lips, and you couldn't help but tease him. "Of course they do," you replied, your voice light, dripping with playful mischief. "Bold men who know what they want always find their way into my stories-and into my life."

You felt the shift immediately. Anthony's expression hardened, his grip on you tightening further. His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as the weight of your words sank in. For a moment, you wondered if you had pushed too far, but then something changed in him- a flash of determination, of possessive need that eclipsed his earlier vulnerability.

Without warning, he stood, towering over you with newfound intensity. He was no longer the man caught off guard by his desires. He was the Viscount again-dominant, commanding. In one swift movement, he cupped the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you back down to your knees.

"If that's how it is," he growled, his voice rough with jealousy, "then you can show me how much better I am than any of them."

Before you could respond, Anthony's hips pressed forward, guiding himself toward your mouth. His movements were deliberate, demanding, as if he wanted to erase any lingering thought you might have of anyone else. There was no hesitation now as he thrust himself between your lips, his hands still gripping your hair tightly, setting the pace.

You moaned around him, the sudden shift in power igniting something deep inside you. You liked this- liked the way Anthony took control, the way he used your mouth for his own pleasure, his jealousy fueling the intensity of the moment. Every sound you made only seemed to spur him on, his hips moving with more urgency, more need.

"That's it," Anthony muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watched you, his eyes half-lidded, dark with lust. "You like this, don't you? You like being used."

You didn't answer with words-you couldn't. But the way you moaned, the way your hands gripped his thighs as you eagerly took more of him into your mouth, told him everything he needed to know. You tongue swirled around him, your lips tight as you sucked harder, wanting to please him as much as he wanted to claim you.

Anthony's breathing grew heavier, his head falling back slightly as his hips rocked against your face, the muscles in his body tensed with the building pleasure. He groaned deeply, his hand tightening in your hair, his voice husky and filled with unrestrained desire.

"Better than any woman," he rasped, his words punctuated by a sharp thrust of his hips. "None of them could ever do this...none of them could ever make me feel like this."

The praise sent a surge of heat through you, and you responded by taking him deeper, your mouth working faster, more eagerly. Anthony's moans grew loader, more desperate, and you could feel him edging closer and closer to release. His grip on you was almost bruising now, but you didn't mind-you reveled in the way he lost himself in you, the way he surrendered to the pleasure you gave him.

"Look at you," Anthony muttered, his voice thick with lust. "My perfect thing. You'll never leave me wanting for anyone else."

You moaned in response, the vibration of your voice making Anthony curse under his breath, his bucking wildly as he reached the peak of his pleasure. His fingers gripped your hair tighter, his whole body tensing as he came, his release hot and heavy in your mouth. You took all of him, your hands steady on his thighs as you let him use you until he was spent.

When it was, Anthony stood there for a moment, chest heaving, his hand still tangled in your hair. Slowly, he released you, his fingers brushing your scalp softly as if he realized he had been rougher than intended. He looked down at you, a mixture of pride and satisfaction in his eyes.

He pulled you up to your feet, his fingers tracing along your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lips, swollen and slick from the intensity of what had just passed between you.

"Better than any story," he whispered, his voice low and possessive. "Better than any fantasy."

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x reader #x reader #x Male reader #male reader #gay men #Anthony x Male reader #Anthony x reader #Anthony Bridgerton x you #Anthony Bridgerton x y/n #smut #oral service #reader insert #fanfic #gay

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whiskyanndboots · 3 days

Text

Vertigo

Summary - You were kicking yourself, you were a coward, a hopelessly unrequited mess hung up on a time traveling genius who didn't end up with normal, boring girls like you.  Pairing - Five x Reader, OCxReader (briefly)

Warnings- Swearing, sexual innuendo, alcohol, canon divergence, pining

A/N - I didn’t edit this, sorry, but I got a little fic idea and ran with it. I’d never heard of Umbrella Academy until about a month ago when the series ended and the community was on fire, I only write for series 4 and Five is aged up in this one because it’s a travesty we didn’t get his family making jokes about him legally being able to drink now. Sloane is alive because so she should be.

You tilted your head back and finished your drink while the bartender was already making your next one, the pleasant buzz of alcohol thrummed through you easing the anxiety you'd had in coming here earlier tonight.   "He won't stop staring" Charlotte whispered in your ear, leaning into you so much you stumbled into the bar.   Charlotte was your favourite co-worker, she didn't seem to care much about your vague answers and the distance you kept from everyone at work.   "Who?" You answered with fake interest, you knew who.   "Oliver!" She exclaimed laughing into her drink still way too close to your face.   She was right, Oliver had been staring all night, aswell as flirting and buying you drinks. Oliver had asked you out once a few months ago and you'd rejected him, he took it on the chin and you'd been friends ever since. But you weren't blind, you seen the way he'd look at you, eyes flicking over your body before darting back up to your face when you'd walk by, his gaze always drifting to your mouth while you spoke. 

The only difference was that for the first time tonight you were flirting back.   "Come on, let's go dance" Charlotte tugged on your arm lightly gesturing at the packed dance floor.   "I'll get my drink and I'll meet you out there" You told her, she dropped your arm and practically bounced into the crowd, your gaze caught Oliver’s and you gave him a quick smile, ducking your head and turning to face the bar.   He was handsome, smart, funny, successful and he was very, very into you, you should have been over the moon, but there was one very crucial thing he was lacking when it came to your feelings.   He wasn't Five Hargreeves.  You'd been living with Five for two years now, you'd been surprised when he offered up his apartment while you were still reeling from having somehow, inexplicably, jumped timelines. He had said he was away working all the time and the place was empty anyway.   Considering you'd been staying with all the other Hargreeves siblings on a rotating roster the offer sounded like a dream. Five had eventually warmed up to you after he'd decided you weren't secretly trying to screw over him and his family, it took a few months longer than this siblings, you thought living with him would be awkward and you’d have this semi silent co-existence type of roommate relationship.   As it turned out living with Five was easy. Yes, he was snarky, bossy and arrogant, but he was an old man at heart and he acted like one. When he wasn't working he was home reading about things that made your brain hurt, watching jeopardy and random documentaries, he’d recently found his new hobby in building these little complex car sculptures he'd painstakingly put together for weeks at a time.   He liked walking too, the two of you often went for strolls, getting fresh air and finding new things to see, you were always excited about these little adventures and finding another hidden gem in the city. Five also had a love of classic cars and driving them very fast whenever he had occasion, the first time he asked if you wanted a spin in a 1983 Pontiac Firebird he’d acquired for a Saturday drive you spent most of it holding on for dear life. Five was an entirely sensible, though impatient, driver in the city, but he let loose when you traveled onto open roads. He liked to go see some of the weird wonders America had to offer, he had a list.

It was so easy to forget he was an old man on the inside while simultaneously forgetting his body was so young on the outside too.   Your favourite thing by far was drinking scotch at home on the couch just talking, laughing and listening to music as he tried to help you understand some complex theory on physics or his own time travel ones, he also told you stories of his life. Most of the time they were funny, but some nights it got somber and they were nights where you were brave enough to reach out and squeeze his hand as a comfort, he wasn't normally a very physically affectionate guy, but he always squeezed your hand back.   This was a problem because you'd very quickly fallen for Five, so quickly it was embarrassing, and Five had zero inclination towards you romantically.   You were helpless really, his tenacity, how incredibly intelligent he is, his arrogant charm and quick wit and how much he loved his family all made your heart flutter. There were times when he'd look up at you with mischievous green eyes, a slight smirk tilting his mouth and his dark hair falling so perfectly in his face that your heart would slam against your ribcage.   But as you had pointed out, this was all completely one sided.   Five saw you as a friend, a close friend, but there was nothing more. He'd never once made a move or even hinted at seeing you romantically in the last two and a half years you'd known him.   It was fine at first, it was enough for you just to be in his orbit, to live in your home together drinking coffee in the morning while he did crosswords in the newspaper and asked for your help occasionally, to be at family dinners or events and stand to the side to watch his incredible and weird family laughing and shouting while the both of you stole a moment for each other in the, usually, happy chaos.  It was enough to be cooking dinner and have Five come home muttering about the idiots he worked with, shrugging out of his jacket and coming to see what you were making. He'd lean against the kitchen counter venting while you were getting everything ready, he'd eventually sigh loudly and ask about your own day. You'd try not to get too distracted when he'd reach up and loosen his tie, long, tapered fingers plucking the knot expertly apart.   He'd always stand there until you were done cooking, hair messy, a slight smile on his face, sometimes teasing you as you tried to one up him with playful insults, you never could, but you still tried and the wide grin he'd give you when you inevitably were lost for words against him made your face flush.  It was all so domestic and you were far too comfortable with it.   The longer you indulged in the bubble you'd created with Five the deeper you were falling in and the more it was going to hurt when it ended.  You'd been thinking lately about the future, you wanted someone to love, maybe even a family, you'd spent over two years now in a kind of limbo not willing to accept you weren't going home to your old life. But you were getting older, you were watching everyone else's lives change and grow while yours stayed the same.   You dreaded the day Five told you he met someone, it was bound to happen eventually, if anything you were surprised it hadn't already. You'd see the way women looked at him, but he always brushed them off if they were brave enough to approach, atleast while you were with him. You didn't like to think about what happened when you weren't.  So you pushed yourself to do this, to have some fun and get to know your co-workers better, let your walls down and maybe even give Oliver a chance. Lila had even called and invited you out tonight and although you would much rather have spent time with Lila, Diego, Klaus, Luther and Sloane you declined. Lila sounded happy you were getting out of the house and making other friends.

You were glad you came, you were having fun and the more alcohol you drank the more free and giddy you felt. It felt amazing not to care so much about your problems.

You hadn't been with anyone since you found yourself stranded in this timeline and all the pent up frustration from living with the man who made your pulse quicken on a daily basis felt like it needed to be let out.   You grabbed your drink and made your way over to Oliver, he smiled widely as you approached, it felt good to have someone interested in you.  "Wanna dance?" He asked, there was a relaxed demeanour about him, he'd been drinking as much as you and you wondered if he could feel the same adrenaline about you as you were about him.   You nodded taking his outstretched hand as he led you onto the dance floor. The pub you all decided to visit had a band playing tonight, doing some pretty decent covers of some 80's rock and roll, you'd been here before with the others, it wasn't far from your apartment and Lila and Diego's house.   You saw Charlotte out there, swaying her hips with her arms around a mans neck, she winked at you with a wide smile when she saw Oliver pulling you further into the crowd of people.  You danced and sang , laughing and spinning around, everytime Oliver touched your skin it sent butterflies into your stomach, you don't remember the last time you felt this kind of nervous excitement, this exhilarated.  

A lie.

 You absolutely do remember.   It had been their birthday, all of their birthdays, but it was Five's second twenty first birthday, so naturally there was alot of alcohol involved. Five endured endless teasing about finally being able to drink and watching his cranky, snide banter with his family had you grinning all night.   You shook your head, you wouldn't let yourself think about that night. It was a year ago and you'd filed it firmly in the do not open part of your brain, you saved it for late nights when you couldn't sleep and you let yourself take a pathetic hit off the memory.   Oliver pulled you closer to him and out of your head, his hands were on your hips, he had an easy, boozy grin on his face while he held you tighter against his body, you could feel muscle and warmth, your breath quickened.  "You're so beautiful" He yelled over the music his hand sliding up to cup your face.   Your heart was racing as he leaned in, you'd been waiting for this all night.  His mouth clumsily pressed onto yours, you kissed him back with a vigour you didn't even know you had. This was what you needed to do, you had to get Five out of your head which was ironic considering its all you could think about now.   The kiss was messy, not unpleasant though, he pulled back to smile at you before smashing his lips back onto yours more forcefully now, his hands sliding down your body as you swayed to the music,   Your stomach turned flipped on itself, a sick feeling of guilt winding through you. It felt like cheating which was stupid, you weren't dating Five and Five wasn't in love with you. Five couldn’t have cared less you were doing this.   Suddenly everything was too overwhelming, you pulled back, but stayed in Olivers arms. His face was flushed and a goofy smile was plastered across it. You weren't sure you could do this, a kiss was one thing, but more felt like too much more.   You were kicking yourself, you were a coward, a hopelessly unrequited mess hung up on a time traveling genius who didn't end up with normal, boring girls like you.  You were abruptly pulled out of your mid makeout crisis when your arm was roughly yanked backwards and out of Oliver's arms. The alcohol made you unsteady and you'd almost tripped over stumbling into another body.  "Lila?" You blurted out confused when you turned to see the culprit, she looked furious.  "What the hell are you doing?" She barked at you loudly, you furrowed your brow at her, your mind trying to catch up with where Lila had just come from.  "(Y/N)?" Oliver asked moving closer, hand outstretched in concern.   "Back off wanker" She spat pulling you roughly through the crowd.   "Ow Lila!" You exclaimed, she was squeezing your wrist too hard. You quickly sent a reassuring wave and smile at Oliver behind you while Lila practically dragged you with her, your boozy legs not wanting to cooperate properly.   As you made it off the dancefloor you were greeted with a few of the other Hargreeves family members, you smiled before realising they looked didn't look happy to see you at all, Diego in particular looked furious.   "We're going home" Lila turned her head to tell you, not bothering to stop as she passed her family, even Luther and Sloane didn't meet your eye as you were tugged past.   "Why?" You tried to pull your arm back.   Lila turned to look at you with so much barely restrained fury you flinched, she didn't answer and you didn't fight her as she continued to pull you into the cold night air.  "I said I'm driving" You heard Diego arguing with Klaus as you tried to catch up with what the hell was happening. You were sitting in the back of Lila and Diego's van with Klaus, Sloane and Luther before you knew which way was up.   Klaus sat beside you, the side of his mouth lifted at your confused gaze, but his expression was pinched.   "Wait, I didn't tell them I was going!" You exclaimed looking back at the bar as the car jerked away from the curb throwing your body against your seatbelt.

“That’s what you’re worried about!?l Diego yelled, turning in his seat to glare at you, it made you flinch. You'd never been on the receiving end of a Hargreeves wrath before.

 You looked over to Luther and Sloane, their mouths were tight and they were pointedly not looking at you. You were so confused, you were willing your brain to sober up a enough to make sense of this.   "I can't believe this, how could you do this?!" Diego continued on driving the car faster than he should have been, white knuckle gripping the steering wheel, Lila was staring straight ahead seeming deep in thought.   You were definitely missing something because you had wracked your brain several times over and you were pretty positive you hadn't done anything at all to warrant this level of outrage.  "Are you gonna say something?" Diego once again turned to look over his shoulder at you.   "Just lay off, Diego" Klaus interjected "wait until we're home, she's drunk"   "Lay off?! I haven't even started" Diego fired back.   The car turned sharply and you grabbed onto the seat to steady yourself, you looked over to Klaus who's expression wasn't angry as he gazed down at you, it was worse, he looked disappointed.  "Has something happened?" You finally spoke up, as the words left your mouth you had a sudden scary thought "Is Five ok?"   "Oh, so now you give a damn about Five, huh?" Diego sounded exasperated even though he let out a chuckle, shaking his head muttering things you couldn’t hear.   The car pulled up in their driveway with a harsh jolt, you felt like the journey hear was way quicker than it should have been. You let yourself be led into the living room by Klaus who sat you down on the couch, the Hargreeves filed into the room each taking a seat, Lila pulled a chair from the kitchen into the room and planted herself down infront of you, Diego however was pacing back and forth looking like he was struggling not to explode.   Klaus appeared beside you with a glass of water, you hadn't realise how thirsty you were, "Thanks" you muttered taking a long gulp.   No one had answered you about Five yet and anxiety was building in your chest.   "How long?" Lila asked, the way she was staring into your eyes was intimidating the hell out of you.  "How long what?" You asked back creasing your brow.   "How long have you been fucking that guy?!" Diego exploded making your head snap towards him in surprise  "Diego, let me do the interrogating honey" Lila reprimanded, but turned to you expectantly.

"Oliver?" You asked quietly, what was their problem with Oliver?  "That the assholes name, huh? Oliver what a dumb ass name" Diego was muttering to himself.   "Well?" Lila widened her eyes at you expectantly. You suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable being stared at under a spotlight like this , this was your personal life and you could do whatever the hell you wanted.   "I don't see how thats any of your business" You replied steadily, Lila looked like she could have slapped you, the twitch in her hand made you pretty sure she wanted to.   "Our brother is our business" Diego stalked forward towards you "I never would have picked you for something like this, we all thought of you like family, Five worships the ground you walk on" You leaned back into the couch, Diego's voice was measured, but it felt oddly like being yelled at.   "It stops now. You tell him when he gets back or we will" Luther spoke for the first time, all business and no nonsense, nothing like the goofy big guy you'd come to know over the last few years. Sloane locked eyes with you before dropping them, a sullen look on her face.  "I'm sorry" You closed your eyes for a moment raising your hand up before running it across your face "why are you all so pissed?" You turned your confused gaze to Klaus.  "Well, I imagine it was having our night interrupted by our brothers girlfriend playing tonsil hockey with some guy who's definitely not our brother" Klaus answered, his delivery was light, but his tone was clipped.   "Five's gonna be devastated, is this what do while he's away at work? I just- I just- I just can't figure out why you'd do this to him, you guys are happy, aren’t you happy?” Diego was pacing again.  Your brain short circuited.   Girlfriend?  "Are you talking about me?" You asked bewildered. You weren't sober enough for this conversation because clearly you were missing something here.   "Well as far as I know there wasn't anyone else out cheating on Five tonight" Lila answered back sarcastically.   "You-" You couldn't even find the words, what in the actual hell was going on "I'm not Five's girlfriend"   The room went silent.  "You can't be that drunk, if this is your idea of a ruse, it's a shit one" Lila raised her eyebrow looking annoyed.  "Let me get this straight" you leaned back in your chair closing your eyes for a brief moment to organise your thoughts "you think I'm Five's girlfriend and you caught me cheating on him" You glanced at all the faces around the room.  "Yeah, obviously" Lila's face scrunched up in confusion.   "Well, you're missing one very important piece of that puzzle, I'm not his girlfriend" you shot back.  "You live together" Sloane suddenly piped up  "We're roommates"   "You're always together, you went on a date last Saturday" Luther joined in.   "We're friends, it wasn't a date it was a classic car show"

“You’re like a boring old married couple, I saw you arguing over whether to have blueberry or chocolate chip muffins with your afternoon tea last week! ” Klaus looked at you imploringly.

“I’m not boring” You spluttered

"You're definitely knocking boots" Lila raised an expectant eyebrow.   "No, absolutely not. Wait, you know that" You shook your head confused and turned to look at Sloane who also definitely knew that. You remembered the conversation with them about how you were most definitely not sleeping with Five despite everyone believing the contrary, but you cleared that up a year ago and no one ever brought it up again.  "But our birthday" Klaus sounded mystified, your heart started pounding.   How did they know about that night, did Five tell them what happened? You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.   "What about it?" You feigned innocence.   "Our master plan to make sure you two emotionally stunted sweethearts finally admitted you wanted to jump each others bones" Klaus looked at Lila who looked panicked at his admission.

“What plan?" You swivelled your head between them.  "Well, we thought Five was being a cowardly little shit and needed a nudge in the right direction " Lila's smile grew cheesy and fake, you were sure she could feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off you.  "It seemed like a giant success, I mean, when I drove you both home Allison and I were worried you were going to get it on in the back seat if I wasn't quick enough" Klaus replied laughing and nodding at his siblings, you were definitely red in the face.  "No!" You said borderline hysterical "that definitely did not happen" This was hands down the most embarrassing moment of your life.   "Wait, hold on, you aren't cheating on Five?" Diego asked with a hand in his hair.  "No, we're just friends" You desperately wanted to end this conversation “you can ask him if you don’t believe me” you offered.   "Holy shit" Diego looked equal parts stunned and horrified.

“But you two-“ Luther looked like he was struggling to find words “you’re both- you always-you know!” he exclaimed, his hands waving in front of himself.   "I need more water" you muttered going to the kitchen.   What an absolute nightmare, clearly the way you felt about Five was so obvious his own family thought you two were together, you were absolutely fucking tragic. You had to do damage control, the single worst thing you could think of happening in your life right now was the idea of Five looking at you with pity in is eyes if he found out about your feelings.   "Hey" Lila and Sloane both slunk into the kitchen as you were downing your water "I think we need to talk"   "What was this master plan Klaus was talking about?" You raised an annoyed eyebrow in their direction.  "Well, it all started last year on the twins birthday"   

A/N - thanks for reading if you got this far, most of this was a set up for another, hopefully, two parts to this series.

#five x you #five x reader #five hargreaves x reader

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