abadspellr

[evanbi-ckley]

Congrats on your milestone lovely!! If you’re still doing prompts, Bucktommy + early morning 🧡

once again, i failed at keeping this to 11 sentences OOPS

The sunlight breaks in through the open blinds, softly dancing across the bedroom wall as the household begins to wake up.

Tommy rolls out of bed first, as always. The coffee is set to begin brewing at 5:30, so he has about 30 minutes to himself in the gym before anyone will join him.

It feels good to stretch his muscles, push himself on the treadmill, deadlift only 10lbs under his PR weight from before the accident. Getting the all clear for everything from the orthopedic surgeon yesterday had lifted a weight off his shoulders, and he feels energized like he hasn't in months.

The door opens, and Tommy glances at the clock on the wall. It's only 5:34 which means it's not Evan, but Tommy's pretty sure he knows who the early riser is anyway.

"Liam?" he asks, almost certain as the smell of coffee comes closer.

"Hey, Pops," Liam says, a mug of coffee in each hand. At 15, he's a little young to drink coffee every day in Tommy's opinion, but there are worse things. Much worse.

"Thanks," Tommy says, taking the proffered mug and sipping delicately, the warmth immediately spreading through his body. "Sleep okay?"

"Mhm," he nods, taking a sip from his own mug. "Lottie was up late though. Her light was on when I went to the bathroom at 1."

Tommy frowns. Charlotte has been with them for almost 11 months and is doing fantastic, but she's prone to night terrors. He makes a mental note to talk with her therapist during her next session.

Shaking off the pit he gets in his stomach anytime one of his kids has trouble, he asks, "Did you want to lift weights this morning or do you have practice?"

"I gotta get going. Coach Pullman wants us on the field by 6:30. Denny should be here soon, actually," he says, glancing at his watch.

"Okay, go get ready," Tommy says, watching his son walk toward the door. Then he remembers what happened last week and adds, "And don't forget Benny this time. Dad and I won't be able to drop him off this morning."

Liam sends him twin finger guns then runs back upstairs, leaving the gym door open. Tommy shakes his head fondly, but doesn't get up to close the door. Instead he goes back to his workout, thinking about what he wants to make for breakfast when he's done, the thought of french toast instantly making his stomach growl.

Soon, he hears footsteps on the stairs and looks up to see Liam and Benjamin waving to him as they head outside to meet Denny at the curb. He keeps an eye on the two boys out the window until he sees the Wilsons' car pull up and the boys climb in.

Two down, three to go.

He finishes his workout just after 6:00 and wipes down the equipment before heading upstairs to the en suite. Evan still snores softly in their bed, his curls mussed and long limbs askew. He looks so much younger than 40 - well, 39, but his birthday is in two weeks - and still as beautiful as the day they met.

His shower is perfunctory, quick and efficient, but by the time he leaves the bathroom, there's a small body curled in next to Evan on the bed, cuddled closely in his arms. Hazel is only 4, but she's been with them since she was two months old, officially becoming their daughter a year later.

Not wanting to disturb them, he dresses quietly in the walk-in closet then leaves the room. He steps into the hallway and immediately feels a small body collide with his own.

"Hey, Papa," Evelyn whispers, clinging to his waist.

"Morning, Evie," he says, swinging the 6 year old into his arms for a hug. "Wanna help me make breakfast?"

"Yes," she says, nodding decisively.

They knock on Charlotte's door to make sure she's up and getting ready for school before heading down to the kitchen. The french toast is done quickly, Evelyn only spilling a little of the egg mixture while dipping the thick slices of bread. They also set out the powdered sugar, syrup, and fresh berries along with juice, milk, and water.

Charlotte makes her way into the kitchen, seemingly led by her nose as she smiles at the spread on the table.

"Morning, Pops," she says, stopping to give Tommy a hug. It will never stop amazing him that she settled into their family so quickly, easily transitioning to calling them Pops and Dad like the rest of their kids.

"Hey, sweetie. You doing okay? Liam said you might not have slept well."

She huffs and settles her chin on his chest, looking up at him with tired eyes. "Just a bad dream again. But Percy helped."

After the first few nights of night terrors, Evan had taken Charlotte to Build-A-Bear, hoping they could find something that might help her feel safe when she woke from the dream. Sure enough, she had immediately been drawn to a light blue axolotl that she named Percy. And he does seem to help, but Tommy still wishes there was more he could do to stop the dreams in the first place.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wish I knew how to help more."

Her face screws up in confusion - her expression eerily similar to Evan's - and says, "Pops, I'm nine. I'm a big kid. I can handle it myself."

Tommy chuckles and holds her tighter. "That may be true, but as your Pops, it feels like my responsibility to make sure any bad things stay away."

Laying her head down and squeezing him once more, she says, "Thanks. You're a good Pops."

He will not cry at 7 in the morning, thank you very much.

Charlotte goes to the table where Evelyn is already waiting for her, and they quietly start to pile food onto their plates. They're a few bites in when Evan comes downstairs, a very clingy, sleepy Hazel in his arms. She starts to wiggle, trying to get down when she spots the girls already at the table and goes directly into Charlotte's waiting arms.

Evan looks like he could use a few more hours of sleep, but just when Tommy's about to suggest he go lie back down, Evan leans into him and murmurs, "G'morning."

"Good morning," Tommy says, his arms encircling Evan and holding him close so he can kiss his birthmark. "You ready for today?"

"Absolutely." Placing his own kiss to Tommy's cheek, he disentangles himself from Tommy's grasp and joins their daughters at the table.

Tommy watches them for a moment, taking in just how much his life has changed since meeting Evan, how full of people and love and family it is now. Seeing his husband - a man bursting with love for everyone around him - taking care of their kids with nothing but gentle patience causes his eyes to prickle with tears once again.

He turns to refill his coffee and get Evan his own mug, composing himself as he stirs in the cream and sugar. Sometimes he takes all of this for granted; it happens after seven years. But he suddenly remembers just how lonely his life used to be. Yes, he had friends and work and the few family members who still spoke to him, but Evan gave him a real family. Evan gave him family barbecues and wedding dates and birthday parties and reasons to celebrate all the little things in life.

As he takes his seat at the table, he's greeted with a chorus of, "Hey, Pops!" and, "Thanks, babe," when he hands Evan his coffee.

The day has barely started, they still need to get two kids to school and one to daycare, and then they have to get ready for the ceremony this evening. Bobby's retiring, Hen will be taking his place as Fire Chief of the LAFD, and Evan is being promoted to Captain of the 118. It's a big day for their family. It'll be long and tiring, and there's nowhere Tommy would rather be than at Evan's side through everything.

[autobahnmp3]

grocery shopping was also successful but god i really know how to pick a time.... friday afternoon?????? idiot

[pucksandpower]

Ruin the Friendship

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you and Max refuse to confess your feelings for each other in fear of ruining your friendship. Naturally, Max chooses to ruin every date with another man you go on instead

You can’t remember a time when Max Verstappen wasn’t your best friend.

The two of you grew up together, playing in the streets of Hasselt since before you could walk. Your parents joke that you learned to crawl just so you could keep up with him.

As you got older, your friendship only grew stronger. You were inseparable, there for each other through all the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. When Max’s karting career took off, you were his biggest supporter, traveling all over Europe on weekends whenever you could to cheer him on at races.

After he moved to Monaco when he joined Red Bull, Max begged you to come with him. “I can’t do this without my best friend by my side,” he said. You didn’t hesitate — there was nowhere you would rather be than with Max.

Now you live together in his apartment in Monte Carlo. Mornings are spent on his balcony overlooking the glistening Mediterranean, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Evenings are filled with video games, movies, and dreams of the future.

You know everything about each other, from favorite foods to secret fears. You trust Max more than anyone else in the world. He’s your person, the other half of your soul. Sometimes you think you love him as more than a friend, but you’d never risk what you have. If you lost Max, you’d lose yourself.

Today is like any other day. Max is sitting next to you on the couch, focused intently on crushing you in Mario Kart. You’re trying your best, but he’s just too good.

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist in the air as he wins yet again. “Too easy!”

You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Whatever, I let you win.”

He laughs. “Sure you did.” His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to suggest another round when Max’s phone rings. He grabs it off the coffee table. “It’s Christian,” he says. “Probably wants to go over strategy for the race this weekend. I better take this.”

“No problem.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll make us some lunch while you talk to him.”

Max answers the call as he makes his way out to the balcony. Through the glass door you see him pacing, one hand waving animatedly as he talks. You smile and head to the kitchen.

As you rummage through the fridge, you think about the race this weekend. You couldn’t be more proud of Max and everything he’s accomplished. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he got into that car. Still, you know racing makes him happier than anything else in the world. And his happiness is what matters most to you.

You find the ingredients for Max’s favorite sandwich — nutella and banana. As you start spreading nutella on slices of bread, you hear Max call your name from the next room.

“Y/N! Come here, I need your opinion on something!”

You poke your head out of the kitchen. “Can it wait? I’m making lunch!”

“No, it’s urgent! Just come here!” He’s smiling like he has a secret.

You laugh, wiping your nutella-covered hands on a towel. “Alright, I’m coming!”

You make your way out to the balcony, wondering what Max wants your opinion on. With him, it could be anything.

“Ok, what’s up?” You ask.

Max grins and takes your hand, his eyes twinkling. “How would you feel about being my date to the FIA Gala this year?”

You stare at Max, stunned. “Your … your date? To the FIA Gala?”

He nods, still grinning. “Yeah! It’s next month in Baku. I could really use my best friend by my side for moral support on the big Red Carpet.”

Your mind is reeling. The FIA Gala is the biggest formal event of the Formula 1 season. All the top drivers and teams come dressed to the nines to celebrate the end of the championship. Rumors always swirl about who will bring the hottest date.

And Max wants you to be his.

“Are … are you sure?” You stammer. “Wouldn’t you rather bring a model or something?”

Max scoffs. “Please. You know I hate those stuffy events. But with you there cracking jokes and making fun of everybody with me, it might actually be fun for once!”

You can’t help but smile at the thought of being on Max’s arm. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist. “This is going to be epic. I’ll have my team sort all the details. All you have to do is show up looking gorgeous.” He winks.

You blush slightly. “I think I can manage that.”

Over the next few weeks, Max’s stylist comes by the apartment for dress fittings. You settle on a couture emerald gown with a daring slit up the leg. The perfect blend of classy and sexy.

Max lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your suite the night of the gala. “You look incredible,” he says, staring at you in awe.

You smooth down the front of your dress self-consciously. “So do you.” Max cuts a sharp figure in his black tuxedo.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

Your stomach flutters as you take it. You still can’t believe you’re Max’s date tonight. Part of you wishes it were real instead of just for show.

As predicted, jaws drop when you walk the red carpet on Max’s arm. Cameras flash furiously around you.

“They’re gonna think you’re my new girlfriend,” Max murmurs in your ear.

You laugh. “Let them think what they want.” But secretly, you wish the rumors were true.

The night flies by in a blur of champagne, dancing, and laughter. You and Max stay by each other’s side the whole time, laughing and judging everyone’s outfits. It’s the most fun you’ve had in ages.

On the ride back to the hotel, Max rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “That’s what best friends are for.”

But as you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but wonder if Max will ever see you as more than just his best friend.

***

Not long after coming back home, you’re getting ready for your first date since the FIA Gala. After seeing you all dressed up with Max, your friend Julian finally got the nerve to ask you out. You said yes, partly to stop constantly pining for Max.

You’re meeting Julian for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, Max lounges on your bed.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Julian,” Max says, scowling. “That guy is so boring.”

You toss a pillow at him. “Stop it, he’s cute! I think it’ll be fun.”

Max catches the pillow and frowns. “What if I took you somewhere way better tonight instead?”

You pause your makeup application. “Wait, like a date?”

“What? No!” Max avoids your eyes. “Just as friends.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Well, I already made plans with Julian.”

“Fine, go on your lame date,” Max grumbles. “But when Julian puts you to sleep talking about accounting, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You finish getting ready then head out to meet Julian. He greets you with a bouquet of flowers. “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thanks!” You reply. The date starts off nicely. Julian is a perfect gentleman over dinner. But as the conversation wears on, you find yourself growing bored. Max was right, Julian is really dull.

Suddenly, you get a text from Max.

SOS come quick! Emergency at the apartment!

You frown, instantly worried. “Sorry Julian, I have to go. My roommate needs me.”

Julian looks disappointed but nods in understanding. “No problem. I’ll walk you out.”

You hurry home, anxious to make sure Max is okay. You burst through the apartment door. “Max! What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Max looks up casually from the couch. “Oh hey Y/N. What’s up?”

“What’s up? You texted me that there was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah, we ran out of gummy bears,” he says, waving an empty bag. “I was hungry.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious, Max? I was on my date!”

Max grins. “Oops, my bad! But I saved you from dying of boredom with that guy. How about we order a pizza instead?”

You want to be mad at him for ruining your date. But looking at his smiling face, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible,” you say, plopping down next to him.

Max just winks and hands you a controller. “Now come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me in Mario Kart this time.”

And just like that, you forget all about Julian and your ruined date. Nothing is nearly as fun as spending time with your best friend.

***

A few days later, you’re getting ready for another date, this time with a guy named Levi who you met online. He’s gorgeous with tattoos and an edgy style, totally your type.

When you tell Max about the date over breakfast, he nearly chokes on his eggs. “You can’t be serious. That dude looks like a complete tool.”

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse. “Don’t pretend you know anything about him. I think he’s hot and he seems cool.”

Max crosses his arms. “Well I don’t like it. How do you know this guy isn’t a total creep?”

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, “But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself on a date.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a hand. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it! I’m running late as it is.” You give Max a quick hug. “Don’t wait up!”

You meet Levi at a trendy speakeasy bar downtown. He looks even hotter than his Tinder pics, with arm tattoos peeking out from under his leather jacket.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a crooked smile. He leans in for a lingering kiss on your cheek.

You blush. “Hi yourself.” Maybe Max was wrong about this guy.

You have a great time with Levi. The drinks are strong and the conversation is easy. After a few hours, Levi asks if you want to get out of there.

“I’d love to see your apartment,” you say with a flirtatious glance.

Levi grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He pays the tab and you start walking to his place. As you turn a corner, you run straight into someone, nearly falling over.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorr-Max? What are you doing here?”

Max steadies you with his hands. “Y/N! Fancy running into you!”

You stare at Max in disbelief. “Did you follow me?”

Max avoids your gaze. “What? No, of course not. I was just in the neighborhood.”

You cross your arms. “I find that hard to believe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Levi pipes up from behind you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you reply tightly, not taking your eyes off Max.

Max finally meets your stare, his jaw clenched. “I was worried about you, okay? This guy looks like bad news.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not your call to make. I’m allowed to go on dates without you ruining them.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I know, I’m sorry. I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He glances at Levi again uncertainly.

You soften a bit, seeing the genuine concern in Max’s eyes. You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ll be okay. See you at home later.”

You turn to Levi, who looks understandably confused. You loop your arm through his. “Shall we keep going?”

But as you walk away, the playful mood from earlier is gone. Levi tries to make conversation, but you’re preoccupied thinking about Max and the sad look on his face.

Levi invites you up to his apartment still, but your heart’s not in it anymore. You make an excuse and head home, feelings conflicted.

Max is on the couch when you storm in. “Hey! How was the date?”

You don’t answer, just grab a pillow and start smacking him with it.

“Ow!” Max holds up his hands, laughing. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what it was for, you sneaky jerk! Sabotaging my date again.”

Max grins up at you impishly. “Maybe I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You keep hitting him with the pillow, but end up collapsing on the couch next to him, both of you breathless with laughter.

“You’re the worst,” you say between giggles.

Max drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah but admit it, you love me anyway.”

You sigh and nestle against him. “Unfortunately yes, I do.”

And you know that no matter how many dates Max sabotages, he’ll always be your number one.

***

After the last two disastrous dates, you decide to take a break from dating for a while. But your coworker Jess convinces you to give it one more shot with a guy named Liam she met at her gym. Reluctantly, you agree to meet up with him.

The day of the date arrives and you get ready halfheartedly, already anticipating Max’s attempts to sabotage it. Speaking of Max, you realize you haven’t seen him all day, which is odd.

You find a note on the kitchen counter:

Had to fly to Milton Keynes last minute for work. Will be gone all weekend. Have fun on your date.

<3 Max

You’re surprised but also a bit disappointed. While his meddling is annoying, you’re so used to Max being a constant presence in your dating life. It will feel weird doing this without him.

You push that thought aside as you head out to meet Liam at a burger place. When you arrive, you’re pleasantly surprised. Liam is handsome, charming, and easy to talk to.

After lunch, you go on a walk through a nearby park. You’re having such a nice time, you don’t even think about Max. At the end of the date, Liam asks to see you again.

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile. Liam leans in for a sweet goodbye kiss.

As you turn to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling your name. “Y/N! There you are!”

You whirl around to see Max jogging towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you had that work thing.”

Max shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, it got canceled last minute.”

Liam looks between you two, confused. “Wait, is this the dude you live with?”

Before you can respond, Max strides up and vigorously shakes Liam’s hand. “Max Verstappen, nice to meet you! I’m Y/N’s … boyfriend.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “My WHAT?”

“Yeah babe, your boyfriend,” Max says, draping an arm around you. “Sorry I couldn’t make our date today, got held up at work. But who’s this guy you’re with?”

Liam stares wide-eyed at Max’s arm around you. “Uh, I should get going. See you around, Y/N.” He scurries off.

You shove Max away from you, fuming. “What the hell was that? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you dating that dude.”

“So you LIED? You scared him off forever!” You poke Max’s chest angrily.

He grabs your hand. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I was jealous and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You search his face and see real remorse in his eyes. Your anger starts to fade.

“Jealous? Why would you be jealous, Max?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

He takes a shaky breath. “Because the truth is, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend. I have been for a long time. Seeing you with those other guys made me realize I couldn’t stand not being with you myself.”

You stand frozen, stunned into silence. Max rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Please say something.”

You finally find your voice again. “Took you long enough, idiot.”

And you grab his shirt and kiss him deeply. Max grins against your lips, wrapping you in his arms.

“No more sabotaging my dates,” you murmur.

“Deal,” Max whispers. “As long as I can be your one and only from now on.”

You answer by kissing him again under the setting sun. At long last, you finally have your dream guy.

***

The next morning, you wake up in Max’s arms, still unable to believe the incredible turn your relationship has taken. Last night after the park, you came home and talked for hours, admitting your true feelings while cuddled up on the couch. You kissed and kissed until you both finally fell asleep tangled together.

Now in the light of day, your worries start to creep in. What if this ruins your friendship? What if you’re not meant to be more than best friends?

You untangle yourself from Max’s embrace and go to make coffee. He finds you a few minutes later on the balcony overlooking the sea.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Max says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kisses your shoulder.

You turn in his arms to face him. “Can we talk about this?”

He frowns slightly. “Talk about what?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This new aspect of our relationship. I’m just worried it will mess things up. Maybe we should take a step back and think things through?”

Max’s face falls. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“No, not second thoughts exactly. I care about you so much Max, as my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Max caresses your cheek. “You could never ruin our friendship. It means everything to me too. But we both deserve to be happy, and I know we can make each other happy in this new way as well. I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”

You search his earnest eyes. He’s right — your connection runs so much deeper than just friendship. And you trust Max. If anyone is worth taking this risk for, it’s him.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re right. I want to make this work.”

Relief washes over Max’s face. He leans in and kisses you softly. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!”

You laugh. “Well in that case, take me on our first official date tonight!”

“It would be my pleasure.” Max strokes your hair. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. On us. I know we’re meant to be, schatje. I’ve loved you all my life.”

“I’ve loved you all my life too,” you whisper. And you know that no matter what happens, your bond with Max will never break.

The future has yet to be written, but you’re ready to face it hand-in-hand with the man who has always had your heart.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are having a good day. May I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein he miscalculates how long his business trip would be and he comes home to emotionally wrecked and hungry darling ( He locked them in the closest as a punishment prior) which leads to hurt comfort between the two

Nanami opened the front door and kicked off his shoes, sighing in disappointment at his timing and at how late at night he got back at. Traffic was terrible, his shoes weren't as comfortable as they were this morning, and he missed you terribly. He ran his fingers through his hair that no longer mattered now that he was indoors and put his suitcase out of sight.

He was going to call out that he was home, but reminded himself that he still had you cooped up in that shitty basement. He walked through the house and into the kitchen to finally get you a glass of water. He was only supposed to be on that business trip for around two days and be back home by the time the third day ended. The basement was very spacious, but even he had his limits in there. Which is why it was a great punishment, in his mind. He had enough of your mouth and you attempted to escape after almost sending him over the edge all in one day. But he still worried for you. There were no lights or any sense of comfort in there. At this point, he just wants you in his arms again. The thought makes his heart race in excitement. You must feel so lonely, feel so anxious, so cold, and

You freeze when you turn and see Nanami standing a few feet away from you, watching you shove your fifth slice of bread into your mouth. The two of you mirrored the same look of horror as you acknowledged one another. Nanami's face contorts into one of realization while yours continues to drop. Your stomach twists in fear at the sight of your captor finding you outside of your confinement and suddenly you feel nauseous and no longer desire any kind of elements of nutrition.

Pieces of food that weren't swallowed fall out of your mouth in fear and surprise and you scatter off to the nearest room with a lock and you slam it shut, fiddling with the lock and somehow manage to turn it with terribly shaky hands. It's hard to breath and you hyperventilate as you scoot into a corner, keeping yourself huddled.

Kento was still stuck in place, his mouth open in complete shock. You had ransacked the entire kitchen. He lets his eyes scan over everything on the ground. Almost nothing in the cabinets or fridge was left untouched, so many things left open and touched by his poor, poor girl's fingers. Juice, crackers, the bread you tore into, butter, cereal, refrigerated rice, half-eaten boxes of vegetables and fruits, uncooked noodles......it didn't end there.

The more his eyes found laying around, the heavier his heart got. This was all his fault. He didn't mean to......do this to you. Not at all. His eyes flutter shut as he rubs them, a sigh leaving his mouth. This wasn't supposed to happen. He inhaled sharply to gather more courage to step past the obvious signs of severe neglect he had done to you.

He could hear your fast-paced breathing from outside of the guest-bedroom and shakes his head in shame. He was so fucking ashamed of being so irresponsible with taking care of you. He was supposed to be your lover, your caretaker, the one you should be able to trust. But it seems like he can't even do any of those things right. He was wrong. "I'm sorry." His throat felt like it was constricting his vocals as he chokes out the apology. No kind of words or affirmations could change what he did to you and he wanted to be able to help you see that.

His face was so close to the door, as if he could speak through it into your heart. The last thing he'd do is force you into anything. He deserved to work for your trust back. "I'm so sorry, baby, please." There wasn't much he could make himself say. His ears picked up on your silent sobs and he dropped his forehead on the door, his hands on it as well. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna see you. It's been so long, hm? Since we last saw each other? I just want to hold you."

You didn't know how to feel. You just did something so very, very wrong. This is the type of behavior that gets you in the basement and a chain on your ankle for decoration. You broke out and practically flipped the kitchen upside-down. What isn't he going to do to you??? You didn't even realize yourself speaking through your tears. Constant 'leave me alone's slipped through your lips as you cried. You were so damn scared of what he'd do to you.

Outside the door, Kento shakes his head at your words and presses the side of his face to the door to hear you better. "No, no, no, no, baby. I won't hurt you, I promise. Can you please trust me just this once? I just want to make sure you're okay. You're hungry, I can tell. Just let me help you and you can get all of the food you want, okay??" Kento shakes the doorknob subconsciously, which makes you gasp in fear. Kento flinches away from it when he hears you make the sound and immediately and tells you he won't do it again.

He continues trying to verbally sooth you through the door, telling you repeatedly that it's okay. "....Everyone has limits. And I pushed you to yours." You wipe your face of your tears and push yourself to your feet.

Slowly, you hesitate, but take your quiet steps towards the door. Nanami can't hear anything on the other side. Are you okay? Why are you quiet? Are you trying to escape through the window??? It's bolted. Never mind. He's worried. "Darling?" He silently whispers. All he gets is the sound of his own breaths.

Then the loud sound of the lock clicks and he takes a step back. The door cracks open, extremely slowly. It's almost impossible to tell. You only leave enough space to look through about 1 inch to peek at him through the door. And even with that much to look at, he can tell you are so scared. He shouldn't have done this. The constant anxiety this is giving him continues to make his stomach cramp. A wobbly smile makes its way onto his face. "There she is! Can you-.....please let me take you out of that room?" He stumbles over his words, his arms awkwardly spreading out to seem as if he's friendly.

The silence you let grow only leaves room for more interpretation. You just stare at him with that stone cold eye. Almost as if you're trying to see through him. But nothing is hiding behind his face but the constant stress he's getting from stressing you out. He obviously loves you too much. He gets overprotective sometimes.

You open the door and step out and his shoulders relax as he very carefully looks over you. You used the bucket. Which was good. So, you were at least somewhat clean. You just looked.....hungry. Your face seemed slimmer, your eyes sunken in exhaustion(not that much, but he's great at details when it comes to you).

Before you could stop him, he was cleaning the kitchen and got to running you a bath and making dinner.

[magicalbats]

Sanctuary

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,874

Warnings: sacrilegious content, monster fucking, tentacle/tongue fucking, brief throat fucking, reader is a nun so take that as you will

A/N: this is my very first commission ever and I had a blast working on it so I asked if I could share it with everyone! I went through and removed the identifiers for their OC but otherwise its exactly the same. I'm going to make a comms page later on for anyone interested so keep an eye out for that, and please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Snow flurries around your face and buffets the skin to leave your cheeks feeling raw as you peer out over the assembled crowd. There’s a restlessness that hangs over the multitude of heavily bundled bodies lined up in the town square but order had largely been maintained all morning. It was mostly a variety of women in differing sizes, shapes and ages, which tended to help in that regard, while the occasional man was either old, sick or otherwise unfit for the labor needed to support themselves. These people relied heavily, sometimes exclusively, on the church’s community efforts to keep themselves afloat. You could even make out a few small children among the masses where you were standing; antsy from waiting and fussy with hunger, and who were starting to get on their accompanying parents' last nerves by the looks of it. 

Cloak whipping in the frigid wind, you shift behind the table where two other Sisters were diligently working to ladle out the porridge and pass out thick slices of bread quickly enough to keep the line moving at a reasonable pace. You were technically supposed to be on break after standing in the same spot for hours, your dominant wrist giving a muted throb from overuse when you take up the spare baler spoon and dip it into the massive pot, but you were having a hard time walking away. You usually did, though. Some might accuse you of taking your responsibilities a little too seriously at times but you liked to think of it more as simply being pertinacious. It was better to toe the line of overzealous than to be apathetic or indifferent to the plights of others, after all, and you couldn’t think of anyone more in plight than hungry children. 

Speculatively, Sister Darya eyes the bowl you fill and set aside before starting to spoon out another serving into a second dish. She sends you a sidelong glance even while her hands continue to work through the monotonous motions. Dip, pour, pass across the table. Dip, pour, pass across the table. She doesn’t have to look to ensure every moving piece ends up exactly where it needs to be, and the line keeps moving without interruption even as she sets her prickly sights on you. 

“Back so soon, Sister? Perhaps we should have you chained to the nearest bench to ensure you take your breaks when you’re supposed to.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” You respond with a cool indifference, unperturbed by the pointed stare she gives you when you reach to fill a third bowl. “I’ll go take my rest once I give these to the children. Surely you won’t find any complaint in that?” 

Sister Darya draws a careful breath and lets it out with a sigh. When she speaks next, it’s very soft so that only you might hear her quiet response. “They are supposed to wait in line just like everyone else. Those are the rules. Do not give me that look, Sister. You know as well as I do what lows the starving and the sick will sink to.”

“Then I will take care to ensure nothing of the sort comes of it.” Stamping down the flare of annoyance that sparks in your chest, you stiffly drop the baler back to the table. The older woman narrows her sharp beady eyes at you in warning yet you pay it little mind. 

Quickly shoving a spoon into each of the four bowls you’ve prepared, you juggle the dishes into your hands and step out from behind the table. You can barely catch the sound of her grumbling something to the other nun stationed with her as you walk away but aren’t quite able to make out what’s being said. No matter though. She’d never been particularly fond of you and the feeling was decidedly mutual. Nothing that happened here today was going to change that. 

The first child you manage to track down in the crowd is on the verge of tears, fitfully tugging at his mothers skirts while he asks her how much longer it will be. She has her hands full with a mewling infant, swaddled and bundled in so many layers that it takes the use of both hands to properly hold onto the bulky mass, and she could not offer him much comfort aside from gentle reassurances that it would be soon. One look at the tired, heavy bags under her eyes vindicates your decision. These people needed help, and you wouldn’t sit idly by if there was something that could be done for them. 

Sweeping closer to the pair, you keep your voice gentle even as you project it enough to be heard over the general din. “Do not cry, little man. You must be strong for your mother and your new sibling, isn’t that right? Look at what I have for you.” 

Red faced from the snow and the wind, he turns to glance up at you from under the brim of his wide, fur lined cap. The green of his irises seems to swim with valiantly held back tears but they clear almost immediately when he sees the bowl you carefully offer out to him. They appear to you like crystalline lakes turned dazzling with the azure sheen of algae, and you give him your best smile when he eagerly reaches out to accept the porridge in his tiny gloved hands. 

Her expression morphing from one of surprise to immense gratitude, the mother ducks her head in quick thanks. “May the Cryo Archon bless you, Sister. Your kindness means much to me and my children.” 

“Speak not another word of it. You’re almost to the front of the line now, so you’ll be able to fill your stomach soon. Please take care.” 

With a brief nod of acknowledgment, you move on. There’s another child a few paces down, this one a young girl curled up in the arms of her father as if in search of warmth as much as comfort, and you tell them much the same. That they were almost to the front of the queue and he gives his words of thanks as his daughter shyly accepts the bowl you hand to her. Left with still two more to pass out, you work your way further back in the line while assuring the waiting adults that there was enough for everyone to be fed and to just be patient. 

Empty handed after finding a pair of brothers solemnly standing in line together, you start to retrace your path towards the table again. You’d spotted a few more kids and you wanted to make the burden of waiting a bit more bearable for them as much as for their parents, but a small scuffle up near the front pulls your gaze and demands your attention first. Your strides turn purposeful now as you make a beeline for the commotion. What you come upon gives you pause, though. 

The green eyed boy from before was picking himself up off the ground and trying very hard not to let the hiccuping sobs that shake his shoulders get the better of him. His bowl of porridge was spilled in the barren dirt and frozen mud. A gnarled looking man in a tattered coat was bending to retrieve the fallen dish, mumbling something unkind under his breath while the mother juggles the baby in her arms and frets over her fallen son. At first you think it an accident, the kind of misstep that could happen all too easily when there were so many people crammed together in a single place. But then, to your surprise, the surly man straightens up with the bowl, dips his fingers into what bit of porridge meal was still sticking to the interior and pops them into his mouth. 

You see an instant flash of red behind your eyes. 

“What is the meaning of this?” You demand, closing the distance at a rapid pace now. “Horrid scoundrel, do you truly intend to repay the Holy Mothers kindness and generosity by stealing from a child? Does that seem right to you?” 

The sallow faced man glances up at your approach, takes one look at the black veil covering your hair and scoffs before turning from you. It was clear he thought little of you and your opinions on the matter, and he disinterestedly begins to walk away with his spoils still in hand. Temper flaring just a pinch more, you lengthen the stride of your steps. You brush right past the mother and her children. Reach out with grasping fingers and snag the back of the man’s ratty coat. He aggressively spins around to snap at you, but you were ready with some choice words of your own. 

“How dare you! To think that anyone in our great motherland would behave like an uncivilized animal!” You practically spit up at him. “You should be ashamed of yourself for carrying on in this manner when there is plenty to go around for everyone. What have you got to say, huh?” 

“I don’t have nothing to say to you, crazy bitch. Let go! Before I get mad!” 

A chorus of horrified gasps erupts around you, but you only tighten your hold on him even when his coat is so grimy and unkempt it makes your skin itch. You’re distantly aware of the crowd shuffling behind you, no doubt considering the possible ramifications of stepping in or not, but there was a hesitation when so many of them were women with little to no able bodied men to help. It was only natural, and you didn’t blame them for it. You blamed this no good lout for causing such an unpleasant scene in the first place and you weren’t about to let him get off that easily for being such an inconvenient nuisance to everyone. 

“I will not let you go. You owe that boy and his mother an apology, sir. Come, I will even stand with you to lessen the embarrassment you have to face.” 

Becoming more aggressive by the second, he violently tries to yank out of your grip. You hold fast though, and only stumble a step before pulling back on his coat with everything you’ve got. He seemed annoyed more than anything else though, and he rounds on you again to loom over your much slighter frame in an obvious display of intimidation as he bellows, “I’m warning you, let me go! Now!” 

“And I am warning you, come apologize to them or you will not like how this is going to end.” 

His face growing red in anger, he tries once again to forcefully shrug you off. But when that doesn’t work he brings his hand up in a quick arc, clenching it into a tight fist. You barely have enough time to process it’s even happening and then it — harmlessly sails right over your head. 

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, you watch in mute disbelief as he’s roughly dragged back a handful of steps by an arm wrapped around his neck. The destitute man flails and kicks, grunting when he drops the bowl so he can reach up to claw at the limb cutting off his air supply. It’s useless though. Whoever was holding onto him had a grip as good as iron, evidently, and you catch a burst of coppery-brown hair behind him as he slowly starts to drain of energy and sag. One moment he’s wildly thrashing to get loose and the next he’s … going limp with a wet little gurgle. 

You catch your first glimpse of the young man — your heroic savior, as it were — when he bends to deposit the vagrant onto the cold ground without much concern for where or how he might land. His burden hitting the dirt with a bodily thump, he lifts his attention to you. You’re instantly struck by the intense blue of his eyes, and your breath catches in shock. 

Was he really human? 

“Are you alright, miss? Sorry I didn’t make it here sooner.” Straightening again, he wipes his gloved hands together as if ridding them of dirt after a messy job. Then he steps over the prone man on long, somewhat gangly legs so he can come closer. “When someone said there was a disturbance going on at the church’s food drive I came as fast as I could. I hope you’re not hurt?” 

Rousing from your initial disquiet, you take in the whole of him rather than just the strange eyes staring at you in question. You recognize the military uniform immediately, and bob a quick curtsy as was customary when dealing with someone of his station. “Worry not, good sir. I am unharmed and I have you to thank for that. I’d say you were just in time, in fact.” 

The young soldier gives you an abrupt, dazzling smile that is so filled to the brim with boyish charm it almost gives you pause. He was handsome, yes, but he also looked like a troublemaker of the highest order. Certainly not someone you would need or want to find yourself mixed up with no matter how good looking he was or how pleasantly symmetrical his features were. 

“It was my pleasure, of course, Sister …?” 

You lift your chin and tell him your name.

He slowly repeats your name, as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue and the way the syllables curl inside his mouth. “Well, Sister, although I was all too happy to offer my assistance, you still played an admirable part too. Thanks to you I didn’t have to go chasing this guy down. I owe you my thanks as well.” 

“Save it.” You sigh, giving your head a brief shake. “I was only doing what’s right. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to the boy he stole from and get him another bowl of food.”

Decisively turning on your heel, expecting that to be the end of it, you start to walk away. To your great surprise, though, he quickly falls into step beside you. 

“I’m Ajax, by the way.” 

“A lovely name.” You don’t miss a beat but, rather than discouraging him with your indifferent tone, it just makes his grin grow even wider.

“I can help you.” He says it so point blank and matter of fact that for a split second you’re not quite sure what he even wants to lend you a hand with. And that was to say nothing of the why. 

“Although I certainly appreciate the offer, I think you’ve helped plenty for one day.” Turning your head, you steal a quick glance back at the unconscious man still lying out on the ground. The boy with the green eyes was spitefully kicking dirt at him and, much like his mother, you willfully chose to ignore it. While it wasn’t exactly good or proper behavior, you figured he was entitled to a tiny bit of payback for what he’d endured. “Shouldn’t you be escorting that gentleman to the jailhouse right about now? Surely that is a much more pressing matter for you than feeding the sick and hungry.” 

“Don’t worry, he won’t be waking up anytime soon and I’m sure another officer will happen by any minute now to take care of it.” 

You send him a slow, curious look, but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit put out. “That’s an odd thing to say, isn’t it? As a young man in her majesty the Tsaritsa’s army I would have thought you’d jump at the chance for recognition of such a good deed.” 

He casually waves that off with a chuckle. “Ah, who really cares about recognition anyway? I’m much more interested in doing what I enjoy than making decisions based on what will earn me merit.”

Something told you that was only a very small fraction of the bigger picture. He was still young and clearly impulsive, so you didn’t doubt that he truly was far more inclined to do only what he found worthy of his efforts to pursue. It wasn’t your place to comment on that though, nor did you want to humor how that applied to you in the here and now by giving it any deeper thought than that. 

Ignoring Sister Darya’s incensed glare, you pause at the corner of the church’s food drive table and turn to face your dogged shadow. This man, this soldier named Ajax, obediently halts just within arms reach and looks at you with an expectant, almost puppy-like eagerness as if waiting for the next command to fall from your lips. You may have found it cute otherwise, but you weren’t about to encourage him in any way. It wasn’t in your nature to knowingly lead people on and unlike some of the other Sister’s in the order you didn’t derive any such pleasure from doing so. You’d have to be blunt then. 

“I thank you again for your assistance,” You pointedly intone. “But I cannot allow you to waste your time taking on the church’s work. Her majesty has greater expectations of you than handing out bowls of porridge. You have your responsibilities and I have mine. We would both do well to remember that.” 

He doesn’t look half as dejected by that as you’d hoped he would, his boyish grin only taking on a frustratingly sly edge now. “Aww, don’t tell me this is your way of sending me off into the cold again.” 

“I’m afraid so. I don’t have time to entertain anyone, you understand.” 

Those odd eyes of his dance before you as he gives you a quick, appraising glance up and down to take in your shuddering cloak and the fluttering veil atop your head. But it strikes you once again as being strange, how his irises don’t seem to reflect the light at all. Rather they almost seem to swallow it up like a void. You’d initially thought it a mere trick of the senses brought about by the heavy charcoal clouds hanging overhead but … even now, even standing near the cackling flame over which the pot of porridge was simmering, there still was no reflection to be found in his eyes. It was a little unsettling, if you were being honest. 

Just what was he? 

“You break my heart, Sister. Is it not also the responsibility of a soldier to see that the needs of the people he serves are met? Lending the church a hand would be nothing short of a great honor for me.” 

You set your mouth in a firm, unamused line. “I’m afraid I’m not fool enough to believe that when you just told me you’re not interested in doing things simply for merit. You’ve got an ulterior motive in volunteering your services and I’m not interested in such games.” 

A quick laugh huffs out of him as he lifts a hand to place it emphatically over his heart. “You wound me, Sister! What do you take me for, huh?” 

“Someone who’s time would be much better spent escorting that vagabond away from the food drive before he wakes up and starts causing more trouble for us, that’s what.” 

“Fair enough.” Shoulders shaking with laughter, he pauses to give you another glance over from the top of your head down to the toes of your smart leather boots. You’re acutely aware of the other Sister’s watching on in rapt fascination and morbid curiosity, as well as the townsfolk standing close enough to the front of the line to eavesdrop, but you firmly stand your ground. There would be time to feel embarrassed by this scene later, in the privacy of your own dorm. 

At length, Ajax finally gives his head a shake. “I didn’t know they made Sisters like you.” 

“They don’t. I’m all of my own making.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He finally falls back a step with a brief nod of acknowledgment. Allowing himself one final look at you, Ajax turns away with one last word of parting. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sister. I hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again soon.” 

Standing there in the cold and the chaffing wind, and the flurry of snow, you watch him walk away. You think you could go your whole life without having another run in with him and it would still be too soon. It wasn’t that he was just a bit strange even for a young, headstrong soldier. There was something genuinely peculiar about him. Even putting aside the way he’d kept looking at you, there was still a sense of undesirability about the whole situation. From a nuns perspective he presented a multitude of problems, the least of which being temptation that did not fall in line with your vows. 

Turning your head to look at the others when he bends to retrieve the culprit from the ground and save him from the agitated rumblings of the antsy crowd, you spare Sister Darya a withering scowl. “I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

The way her eyes flash at you in mute disapproval seems to say ‘I told you so’ but you adamantly ignore it in favor of reaching for another bowl to fill. At the rate you were going it was starting to look like you’d never get that break. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything seems so normal that at first you almost don’t even realize it’s a dream. 

Some distant part of you knows you’d been so tired from the food drive that you’d fallen asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow after taking a nice, long bath to rid yourself of the permanent Snezhnayan chill. But you were glad for the normalcy of it, content to meander your way through whatever your resting subconscious decided to conjure up. The first scene is a field of wildflowers that does not exist in the ice and snow of your motherland. It’s peaceful there and quiet. A welcome haven of tranquility which you dreamed of with some frequency. 

You’re more than a little disappointed when it suddenly changes to the town square. One moment you’d been picking dandelions to weave into a wreath for your hair, and the next you were standing in the middle of a cold barren wasteland. The streets were empty around you, the houses dark and silent. The flowers wilt in your hands. Dropping them, you turn in a circle to survey your surroundings. Nothing looked out of place aside from the total lack of people, or even any dogs or cats roaming the area. No birds, either. 

Without a particular destination in mind, you start to walk. A part of you hoped the scenery would change again and morph into a more pleasing visage around you, but that’s not what happens. It feels like you spend many minutes just walking up and down the empty streets like a lost ghost, each step its own eternity. Every breath its own death rattle. A niggling thought in the back of your mind whispers of danger, warns of something being not quite right, and yet you don’t retrace your path back to the starting point in the square. Like there was an invisible string tugging you along, you follow its suggestive pull straight through town to the church. 

Despite finding this rather strange, even for a dream, you open the door and go inside without pause. 

The sanctuary is just as desolate and deserted as everywhere else had been. You hadn’t seen so much as a suggestion of another living being, human or otherwise, and still the string tugs. Trance-like and spellbound, you follow the exigent summons through the grounds; past altars and holy relics, and pews and the baptistery, out into the courtyard. You cross over bare frozen ground to the monastery. Up the long flight of stairs and down the empty hall until you reach the door to your own room. 

This is the first thing that gives you any real amount of hesitation but the string just pulls harder. Like a puppet under the guidance of a masterful biloquist, your hand comes up to grab the knob. You watch yourself turn it and then swing the door open. Your skin prickles with static electricity when you cross the threshold but this, too, is empty. Having half expected to walk in and find your own sleeping form huddled on top of the narrow bed, you’re strangely disappointed to find the sheets neatly made and smoothed out. They looked like they would never be disturbed again, as if the room itself had been plucked out of reality and then frozen in time and space. 

You feel the string slip away then, as you’re standing just inside the doorway looking over your bed, and a rattling breath puffs out of you at its loss. It leaves you trembling with newfound life, as if whatever force served to guide you here had sedated your mind and body alike to encourage compliance. Now, though, you were suddenly acutely aware of just how disconcerting the trek here had actually been. How heavy and oppressive the static charged air really is. 

Hands clenching and unclenching at your sides to restore feeling in them, you cautiously step around the room. It was not a large space and you were able to complete a full circuit in only ten steps. The bed took up a vast majority of the capacity. Your writing desk took up most of the rest. Suspiciously, you even bend to peer under the metal frame that holds the mattress, but there’s nothing there. It was just as void of life as everywhere else. 

When you straighten up again something in the single small window in the room catches your attention. You squint at it a moment but your eyes can’t quite make out what it is, so you step closer. There’s a thin layer of condensation coating the glass and, thinking perhaps that was what was obstructing your view, you reach up to wipe it away. The very real sensation of cold, wet moisture under your fingers startles you more than you’d like to admit. Your foggy mind reels and stumbles over the visceral thought. 

And then your eyes adjust. 

A dull, muted burst of copper. Red horns. It wasn’t outside amongst the trees and the buildings, and the dark overcast sky. It was behind you. 

Holding yourself achingly stiff, you slowly turn around. You’re not really sure how you maintain your cool when every inch of your skin was crawling with a violent eruption of goosebumps but you’re exceedingly glad for it as you set your sights on the monster in the doorway. It’s not just large, it’s huge. You think it must be over seven feet tall, perhaps even pushing eight, and it takes up the whole frame with its massive stature. It seems implausible for something of that size to move around as silent as any soft footed cat, but you’re positive you hadn’t heard a single sound. If this was just a figment of your imagination, you sorely hoped it would dissolve away into nothing very soon. 

What you think must be its eye just stares at you though, unblinking and unmoving. This tense stand-off lasts so long, in fact, that your frightened adrenaline eventually starts to wear off bit by bit, leaving you feeling somewhat disoriented in the aftermath. Was it even alive? Had your taxed mind and body really summoned the likeness of a horrible monster just to terrorize you in your dreams? And, perhaps most perplexing of all, why did it spark a distant note of familiarity in the dregs of your memory? Almost like you’d seen it or something like it recently, but that couldn’t be true. Certainly you never would have been able to forget such a creature as this … 

You just start to toy with the notion of slipping around it to get back out into the hall when it sedately lifts its arm. Frozen in place by a fresh surge of uncertainty and fear, you watch it push the door so that it swings shut with an almost casual motion. The click of the latch catching sounds like the heavy swing of an executioner's blade. 

“You came.” 

Its deep, raspy voice seems to reverberate in the very air itself and, finally unable to keep your nerves in check any longer, you take a stumbling step back to press into the wall. Your heart threatens to jackhammer straight out of your chest as you frantically try to process the situation. Not only was it very much alive and capable of interacting with the environment, it could also talk. You’re not sure why that disturbs you as much as it does but there’s no denying how your stomach painfully cramps with sinking dread now. Every fiber of your being thrums with the desire to run and flee, to hide from this monster, and yet you knew you were trapped in here with it. Even if you’d wanted to make an attempt at the now closed door the room was much too small. You’d never get around it. 

All you can do is quake when it takes a deliberately slow step forward before stopping again. Just looking at you. Gauging your reaction, perhaps? You didn’t really care about any of that. 

“What are you?” It’s little more than a frightened whisper. 

“Think of me as a god come to collect on what is rightfully mine.” 

Your spine snaps straight even as a disconcerted shudder races through you. “You are no god, foul beast. You’re a demon.” 

The thing laughs, low and hoarse. “Close, but not quite. You may call me Foul Legacy. Or, if you would prefer, ‘master’ will suffice just as well for your role.” 

“I will call you no such thing!” You hiss in indignant affront. 

“You will.” It assures you, taking another controlled step closer. “If I command it of you, your only choice will be to obey. If I tell you to get on your knees and worship me then that is what you will do. I told you, didn’t I? I’ve come to claim what’s mine.” 

You start to open your mouth to protest but your words fail you, and you slowly close it again. Frantically now, your wide eyed gaze scans the room looking for any sliver of hope for escape. You were cornered against the wall though. You’d never make it past this thing, and the window was much too small for you to crawl through even if it stopped long enough to let you get it open. The window …

Stealing a split second glance at the rectangle of glass just next to your head, you confirm your suspicions. The streaks left behind in the wake of your hand were still there. The cool condensation had felt undeniably real under your skin which meant, at least to some extent, this dream was a tangible one. Or maybe it would’ve been more accurate to call it a hallucination? It didn’t matter. 

If this was real enough to touch then that must have meant the monster was too. It was a slim chance but maybe you could fight your way past it and get away …

“Are you so unimpressed with this form that you allow your mind to wander?” The creature remarks, but it doesn’t sound surprised or even offended at this fact. More than anything, it almost sounds amused and that is what ultimately steels your resolve. It’s mistake would be underestimating you. 

“I was merely thinking how best to convey my lack of interest in you, oh great demon lord.” You volley back rather primly. “You don’t exactly look like a man, but you are shaped like one … I wonder if a good kick between the legs might get the message across.” 

The fiery haired thing throws its head back and laughs. You almost lose your nerve, but you valiantly cling to that tiny spark of courage you still had left. Cautiously, you start to edge your way down the wall. 

“Splendid! I would expect nothing less from my future bride! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” 

Stilling, you widen your eyes at it. “Your what?” 

You realize your mistake a moment too late. When you should have kept moving towards the desk for the most direct path to the door you’d instead allowed it to give you pause. Even though it lasts for but a single heartbeat that’s more than enough time for the monster to act. 

It’s on you in the blink of an eye. Grabbing under your arms, it hauls you straight up off your feet like you weighed nothing at all. The sudden rush of movement, the unexpected press of huge, clawed hands curling around your ribcage shocks a sharp gasp out of you. But before you have a chance to do anything else, it shoves you back into the wall with a bodily thud that makes the old rafters tremble. The impact doesn’t hurt, not really — not as much as it could have, given how strong the creature evidently is — and you just gape down at its horrid face in stunned disbelief. 

You'd barely even seen it move … 

“Oh, that look of surprise is quite charming on you.” It rasps, snickering low under its breath. “I knew I could rip that frigid mask away with enough time. I wonder how else you’re going to warm up for me …” 

“W - what are you —“ 

The words trail off into nothing when the lower half of its jaw hinges open, and a long, snake-like tongue slips out to waggle tauntingly in the thin space separating you from it. Bile rises in your throat as you bring your hands up to claw desperately at its forearms but it doesn’t even seem to notice. That dreadful appendage just keeps unfurling out of its mouth, dripping threads of saliva here or there that land on the floor with soft little plops that make your stomach roil. Trying very hard not to panic, you futilely turn your head away from it. 

“Do not fear what I offer you, little nun. I have every intention of making sure you enjoy this just as much as I do.” 

It licks you then, that slimy tongue swiping up the side of your face from chin to temple. The wet, quickly cooling stripe it leaves behind makes you choke in disgust. You think it’s reminiscent of a dog, almost, that was much too eager to show its affection to stop long enough and consider how the recipient might feel about it. In the same breath you have the niggling thought that this was not the first time you’ve been reminded of dogs today. Before you have a chance to connect the pieces, the monster speaks again. 

“You really will make the most lovely bride, you know. I’m eager to see you with my mark.”

“I rebuke it!” You snap, struggling anew against its hold. “I rebuke you, foul creature! My faith will protect me and - -“ 

“Hah! I’d like to see that, Sister.” 

You go stock still when it says your name, and your heart skips across your ribs like a rock skimming over the surface of a lake. It felt just as heavy too, in that moment. 

But the monster doesn’t give you a chance to recover and that heinous tongue flicks across your cheek to rudely slip inside your mouth. You shriek around the abrupt intrusion, eyes wide and unseeing, as the length of it just keeps coming. It squirms and wriggles its way towards the back of your throat almost too quickly for you to react. Running on instinct now, you viciously snap your teeth down but all the creature does is let out a shuddering groan of pleasure, as if it liked the pain. Your jaw loosens in surprise as much as confusion, and it takes quick advantage of that to shove its tongue straight down your gullet. 

You gag on it, heaving with a violent wrench as your throat is penetrated. Tears spring up in your eyes but you can’t even scream with it blocking your airway like this. Helpless to do anything else, you just hang there and try not to pass out while it reaches deeper and deeper into you, through your esophagus almost straight down to your guts. It pauses there, giving you a moment to fully process the sensation of your whole body writhing on its tongue, before gradually starting to withdraw back the way it had come. It’s a sick, claustrophobia inducing sensation that only seems to double down when you dry heave and choke around it but, at last, it slips free of your constricting throat, and you suck in a wretched mouthful of air. 

Ignoring the way you cough and spit up bubbling sheets of drool, the horned beast takes a moment to swirl its tongue around the interior of your mouth; feeling along the roof, over your tongue, tracing the outline of each individual tooth straight back to your molars. You shudder and heave, struggling to even comprehend exactly how violated you felt in the aftermath of that disgusting experience. You’d been right to call it a demon … 

“You taste good.” It says when it finally starts to retract its tongue a moment later, setting its sights on lapping up the drool that coats your chin instead. “Good enough to eat, in fact. I wonder how much you’ll squeal when I feast between your legs.” 

“Unhand me this instant,” You wheeze as more of your strength and will to fight slowly comes back to you with the oxygen you pull in. “You are vile and repulsive … I want nothing to do with it!” 

“Oh, now that sounds familiar.” 

Noising a tiny sound of confusion, you clutch its thick forearms in a death grip while it moves to set you down on your feet. You don’t trust it, not by a long shot, and your greatest fears are soon realized when its fingers curl into the fabric of your smock. The sound of straining thread reaches your ears long before it actually rips and you cry out when the first ragged strip is torn from you with a deafening tear. Piece by piece, it shreds your clothes to tatters no matter how wildly you try to twist away or cling to the quickly dwindling panels of black cotton. All too soon you find yourself naked save your stockings and the bloomers pulled over them, and your brassiere which it promptly shreds too. 

Evidently saving your bottoms for last, it reaches for your veil next. 

“No!” You shriek, hating the terror you can hear in your own voice as you make a useless, frantic attempt to shove the monster away. 

It actually pauses even though you didn’t so much as budge it one little bit though, and it tips its head to the side inquisitively almost like … almost like a dog. There was that association again but where was it coming from? You couldn’t quite seem to remember, either due to your suffocating fear making the memory slip away or because your sleeping subconscious couldn’t quite remember enough to supply it on demand. Either way, you were sure it held the answer to your current predicament and you just couldn’t seem to grasp it. 

Why did this thing seem so damn familiar to you? 

“You do not want me to see your hair.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it takes everything you have not to outright scoff. 

“Of course I don’t, you fiend! It is improper for a — a man, even one such as you, to look at the uncovered head of a nun who has sworn herself to the faith. You should be ashamed of yourself!” 

It seems to consider that for a moment, humming softly as if in thought. “It is my understanding that, should one of the Sister’s ever take on a husband, then he alone is permitted to look upon her uncovered hair. Fine. Then I will allow you to keep your modesty until we consummate our union.” 

You prickle defensively at the way it almost spits the word, as if with contempt and spite. “I will not be wed to you! I swore an oath to the church!”

“And now you will swear an oath to me.” 

Hissing, it reaches out to grab at your bloomers even when you desperately try to slap its hand away. It tears them off just like everything else with neither forethought or effort, and you seethe at your own helplessness as you make one last ditch effort to wrench yourself free. But it’s too strong, too big. Just one of its hands seems to dwarf your hip when it possessively curls around your waist to hold you still. Your chest heaves with quick, panicked breaths as you tip your face down to watch it bring a claw close to your cunt, expecting it to rip off your pantyhose the same way it had all the rest. But all it does is caress over you with a thick knuckle and your face grows even hotter with indignation at the nudge. You couldn’t stand the thought of this thing touching you like this and yet you couldn’t seem to look away from it either. 

“I don’t want this,” You whisper, barely even hearing your own voice over the blood that pounds in your ears. 

“You will.” It assures you. Unexpectedly gentle, tentative almost, it curls its thick forefinger further back to prod at your crease and you fitfully shudder at the implication.

Was it really going to take you to wife? You’d never heard of anything more ridiculous; a nun and a one eyed demon, horns and all. It was completely useless to try and keep your cool any longer, and you outright whimper when it carefully pokes its claw up to pierce the thin layer of nylon. Hyper aware of how much it would hurt to get nicked by that sharp talon in such a sensitive spot, you force your body to stay as still as you can manage while it rips your stockings open at the crotch. Cool air wafts against your exposed cunt, making you tremble, and it breathes out a sigh of great pleasure as it teases the patch of curls there with those monstrous fingertips. 

“Am I the first one to ever see you like this?” 

“O - of course you are, foolish beast … I take my vows seriously. This isn’t — it’s not right, do you hear me? I was saving myself …” 

Issuing a low, rasping laugh, it reaches up to palm your other hip with a muted squeeze, holding your waist in both hands now. “You were saving yourself for me. This whole time you were always fated to become my bride and you did so well maintaining the sanctity of your body but that’s all over now. You’re free to embrace your most depraved thoughts and urges. Free to languish in the licentious and erotic desires you’ve been suppressing for so long. I offer you no judgment for your human needs. Only pleasure.” 

Squirming against its hold when your pussy flutters in unmistakable interest, you bring your hands up to weakly clutch its huge wrists again. You couldn’t believe this was happening. How could your body betray you over a creature like this? “No. I won’t fall for it. I refuse!” 

“We shall see.” 

Its tongue slips out again, curling through the air like a pink, wet serpent. Down to your chest where it takes a moment to flick over your nipple until it's coated in a fine sheen of spit and achingly stiff. You didn’t want it touching you like that but you also didn’t want to touch it, so you stop yourself from smacking at it. Just keep reminding yourself that this is only a dream — a very realistic, disturbingly tangible one, but a dream nonetheless. Whatever happened here held no weight in the real world. 

And maybe … just maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to indulge in the carnal just once? 

The prodding tip of its tongue gives your teat one last wet nudge before tracing a path down your front. Past your ribs and its huge thumbs bracketing your waist, over your bellybutton and straight down to brush against your curls. You shudder at the sensation, at the very suggestion of what was to come, but you don’t fight it now. Rather, you hesitantly shift your weight from one foot to the other and then cant your hips forward with a shy little push. The monster hums a rumbling sound of approval before dipping its tongue between your thighs. 

Eyes widening at the feel of it on your cunt, you just stand there like a frozen statue while it traces along the seam of your body. You’d never experienced anything like it before, and you were horrified at how eagerly your loins curl in anticipation. You almost let your courage waver, almost second guess your impulsive decision to humor this at all, but until you woke up you were effectively trapped and fighting it clearly wasn’t going to do any good. 

Oh, why couldn’t you just wake up from this nightmare already? 

“Relax.” It breathes out, unconcerned by the glistening threads of drool that drip from its mouth. “I will not hurt you, little nun.” 

You wanted to believe that very badly. Almost as much as you wanted to believe that indulging like this wouldn’t have any impact on your waking conscience. 

That slimy tongue starts to push up then, pressing into your lips, and you suck in a harsh breath. It teases around your entrance for a brief moment before it starts to wriggle its way in deeper. The penetration is not unlike that of your throat — all fleshy and smooth, and damp with spit — but it still stretches you enough to toe the line of discomfort. Swaying in its hold, you let out a dizzy groan. 

“Oh … that’s - -“ 

“Only the tip.” The thing laughs. 

You try to calm your breathing as it moves around inside you to work your body open, but it’s a losing battle. The stretch of until now untested muscle makes you wince while the slimy sensation of its tongue eagerly moving along your inner sleeve just leaves you wanting to throw up. You don’t think it’s supposed to feel like this, surely. Even without any experience of your own to go off of you’d expected sexual encounters to be more intimate and less … invasive. Less like you were being probed far beyond what any human hands should have been able to reach. 

But if it sees any of the uncertainty flashing across your face it doesn’t show it. The demon only worms its tongue deeper and deeper as your passage reluctantly opens until the distant sensation of it bumping the end of you knocks a harried whimper loose. It’s an uncomfortable pressure but it doesn’t hurt. You’re exceedingly glad for that as you awkwardly shuffle your feet further apart to brace against the overload to your senses. It was like burning from the inside out, and the epicenter of it was concentrated squarely in your cunt. You felt certain you were going to combust any moment now. 

“Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined. And so tight, too. I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock the same way.”

Your stomach clenches at the thought of how big a creature of this size must be. Fresh fear turns your veins to ice, and you weakly push against its hands. It doesn’t even seem to notice though, let alone take heed, and instead it just leisurely swirls that unnaturally long tongue around your guts. Back and forth, up and down. You’re dizzy with it and a little nauseous, but it also starts to feel good. Slowly but surely that initial discomfort fades to leave behind a thrumming vibration that makes you wheeze where you’re standing. And with it comes slick. So much slick that what you’d once thought only to be saliva quickly makes itself obvious as your cunt practically floods around the intrusion. It was impossible to comprehend the sheer extent of your arousal and yet it clearly didn’t matter. You’d toed the line a bit too close. Now there was no stopping it. 

“P - please … it’s too much!”

Giving your waist a careful squeeze, the demon alters the motion of its tongue from swirling to thrusting. Sedate at first, it withdraws to drag against your interior walls when they squeeze and cling to the appendage and then it pushes back in. Right up to the end of your passage where it can’t go any further and the intense pressure makes you go cross eyed. You can’t even fully process how stuffed your cunt actually is, your legs turning weak and jelly-filled as it slowly increases the pace. The force. You’re beyond ashamed at the sticky wet clicks it pulls from between your thighs, but all you can do is helplessly writhe in its hold. 

“Oh — oooh, wait … I - I can’t do this! I can’t!”

“It’s too late for that, Sister. You’re already doing it.” 

You mewl at its response and throw your head back to wheeze up at the ceiling. It wasn’t wrong. You’d already crossed the line, yes, but this … this strange, unfamiliar feeling low in your gut was far beyond anything you would have ever expected from this. It was like you had to relieve yourself but also different somehow. A complete unknown you had no idea how to make sense of, and you let out a choked off squeal when the thrumming tension rapidly starts to double and then triple. No amount of thrashing was getting you out of its hold so you squeeze your thighs together in a vain attempt to dissuade it from moving inside you like that but it’s no use. Even trying to curl your legs up doesn’t work. 

It just keeps fucking it’s tongue into your shuddering body without pause, and you start to feel truly dizzy as you dangle there between it’s massive hands. How could this be happening to you? And, more pressing, what was happening to you? 

“You’re getting close, I suspect.” It sounds quite proud of that, but you’re a little too preoccupied with the jittery, firecracker nerves making you tremble and shake to question it. The pressure was getting almost unbearable now. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. 

“Ahh — ahhghnn, ooohh please Holy Mother, please help me!” 

“Aww, don’t start making me jealous. I’m the only god you should be praying to right now.” 

Screwing your eyes shut, you turn your face from its horrible unblinking eye but it just laughs in response. Even if you’d wanted to snap at it for being so presumptuous as to think you would worship it in any capacity, you were finding your lungs constricting far too much to draw a proper breath. Your chest heaves with the blinding tension that races through your body and then — so suddenly you don’t get a chance to realize it’s even happening, it abruptly tips over. Spills out to wrack the whole of your body and devolve you into a shuddering mess of spasms. 

You shriek and yelp as your pussy almost violently squeezes down on its tongue which just keeps moving insistently inside you. In and out, in and out like a continuous piston that even your tightly clenching guts couldn’t seem to keep at bay. That slippery appendage keeps spearing through you unimpeded, forcing your roiling muscles to keep contracting with each plunge, and you very nearly pass out from how intensely the sensation hits you. It was simultaneously like drowning deep in the bottomless ocean and soaring high overhead at the same time. You couldn’t even begin to make heads or tails of it. 

But it starts to fade much too fast. The sharp jolts of undeniable pleasure only last what seems to you like a few seconds and then those cresting waves are rapidly receding, like the tide pulling back from the shoreline. You still can’t quite draw a full breath and yet you soon go slack as the tension drains completely to leave you twitching in the aftermath. An odd sense of elation quickly rushes in to replace it though, and you’re ashamed at how you innately warm to the monster’s presence. You couldn’t believe how good that had felt … and bless the Cryo Archon, did that make you a terrible person? 

All of a sudden you weren’t so sure you cared about that anymore, and that terrified you perhaps more than anything else that had happened here in this room. 

“You look so good creaming all over my tongue.” It murmurs, drawing your muddled attention away from those fuzzy headed thoughts. “And the way you taste? Burn everything, I could help myself to this pretty cunt all day. I'm eagerly looking forward to consummating our marriage on the next new moon.” 

Stirring out of your post-climax stupor, you frown at it in genuine confusion. “You aren’t going to do it now?” You weren't disappointed. Surely not. Just surprised, and very confused. 

The demon sighs forlornly — rather dramatically, if you were being honest — and shakes its head. “I’m afraid not. I’d like to, of course, but the mating ritual has its own rules that I can’t supersede. Oh, don’t give me that grumpy look, Sister. I’m not leaving you empty handed tonight, rest assured.” 

You draw a quick breath to berate the damned thing but then it starts to pull its long tongue out of your body and you tense up, seething through your teeth instead. The sharp sensitivity still racing through your nerves made you feel raw and tender. Overwrought in the most literal sense, and it finally slips out with a wet little slurp that makes you whimper at the loss as much as at the sound. You hadn’t thought yourself capable of, well … any of that. Any of this. 

How were you possibly supposed to rationalize any of it in the light of day? 

You’re still trying to work that out when it carries you to the bed where it sets you down, pulls back the sheets and then tucks you in with a truly shocking amount of care. You definitely hadn’t expected that. Not that you’d expected much of anything that had happened over the course of this implausible dream, but you decide not to fight it as the monster takes a moment to brush your veil over the pillow the same as it may have done with your hair. It was all much too strange to think about right now. You could pick it apart and analyze it tomorrow, when you’d had some time to actually process these bizarre happenings. 

Or maybe never, if your subconscious was kind enough to let you forget any of this had ever happened in the first place. 

“Rest now.” It tells you softly in that low, raspy voice. “I will be back to claim what’s rightfully mine soon enough.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You remember everything, of course. 

And somehow that doesn’t surprise you in the least as you lay there in your bed, staring up at the ceiling while warm rays of morning sunlight bounce off the stark, unadorned walls. In retrospect you’re a bit disappointed to think that you could ever be so naive. To believe you’d forget something like that … it had certainly left an impression, at least. 

What does strike you as odd though is the warm, continuous cramp in your lower belly. You readily want to write it off as menses related but … that doesn’t seem right. It should have been too soon for that just yet in your menstrual cycle. 

Unable to stay your gnawing curiosity any longer, you finally rip the sheets off and look down at yourself. Your plain white nightgown is a bit rumpled but given the dream you’d had that didn’t seem so strange. That’s what you try to tell the niggling voice in the back of your mind anyway as you gather it up around your waist but what you find underneath stops you cold. 

Etched into the skin just over the center of your pelvis as though with ink was a four pronged, hexagonal sigil. It was faintly purple in the light, and as clear as day. But that didn’t make any sense. Or rather, you couldn’t make any sense of it at all. You’d been asleep the whole night, here in your room, and this most assuredly had not been there when you’d taken a bath the previous evening … 

You bolt upright with a strangled gasp. Turning your head to look at the window sends a debilitating chill racing through your body. Through the morning condensation beading on the glass you could see the evidence of a hand smudge, right where you’d touched it in your dream. 

“No.” You whisper at the glass pane and then, with more conviction, “No. That’s not possible!” 

It feels like your skin is trying to crawl right off your bones as you shoot out of bed and make a beeline for the tiny closet next to the desk. You rip the door open so forcefully it rattles and groans in protest but you can’t be bothered to worry about that right now. Not when you were staring at your habits, the one you’d worn yesterday, hanging in shreds from the hanger. You couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it, but the proof of it was staring you right in the face. Even your brassiere and bloomers were torn to pieces in the little basket you kept them in on the floor of the closet. The only thing untouched was your veil. Just like in your dream … except, it wasn’t actually a dream, was it? 

Too numb to even wail over this revelation, you slowly sink down to the floor and just stare at your ruined clothes for what feels like a lifetime. There had to be some way out of this mess. There had to be. 

Right? 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

The archbishop gives you an exceedingly strange look when you inquire about exorcisms, and it only continues to grow more and more pronounced the more you push the matter while also skirting around the subject at the same time. Not that you could really blame him, of course. You’d had to wait until after the morning service to corner him next to the dais before he could slip out through the side door so you’d had plenty of time to stew over everything, which meant you were coming in perhaps a little hot on the topic. That didn’t matter though. You were determined to get this resolved regardless of the cost, and if that meant having to shake some sense into him before he’d take you seriously then that was exactly what you were going to do. 

Luckily it doesn’t come to that, and he eventually relents after you doggedly refused to give up your line of questioning. Giving his head a hopeless shake, he takes on the tone of someone leveling with a crazy person. “I understand your concerns, Sister, but exorcisms aren’t something that we implement unless absolutely necessary. It is very much a last resort, you see, and there is a rigorous process to even get approval for one. I’m afraid there’s not much else I can tell you.”

You remind yourself to take a deep breath and count to five before speaking next. It wouldn’t do to snap at the one person who might actually be able to help you get out of this mess. “With all due respect, Father, I don’t think that answer will suffice. Even if it’s not a full on exorcism, surely there must be smaller measures in place to help … discourage a demonic presence from returning?” Something a bit more effective than prayer and baptism evidently were. 

His eyes narrowing in clear suspicion, the archbishop speculatively regards you for a moment. “Is there something you aren’t telling me, Sister?” 

Of course it would finally get to this point. You’d expected as much, yes, but that doesn’t make the dread wrenching at your gut any less unbearable. How were you supposed to explain any of what had happened last night when you didn’t even understand it yourself? All you knew was that your clothes were in tatters up in your dorm, the window still showed evidence of your hand wiping across it and your lower stomach … 

“Ah, Sister! There you are! Just the lady I was hoping to see.” 

You spin around so fast your eyes feel like they’re going to pop right out of your skull. That feeling only increases when you find Ajax standing there at the end of the pew in his neatly pressed uniform and his smile blinding under the light that comes in through the stained glass murals. Your knees buckle and almost completely give out under you when your belly twists as if someone had shoved a red hot iron into it. Subconsciously you lift a hand to cradle the spot where the tattoo was but you couldn’t quite seem to tear your shocked gaze away from him. 

That was it, wasn’t it? The association. 

You think that has to be right. Had never been more sure of anything else in your life, and yet that doesn’t seem half as pressing as the thrumming arousal that grips you so suddenly and so tightly it actually pulls a quiet whimper out of you. Your cunt floods with it, so much slick producing at the drop of a coin that it makes you feel nauseous and disoriented in the same breath. But how could that be? And why was he just standing there inside the church as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing? 

This was hallowed ground … wasn’t it? 

“W - what are you doing here?” 

Grinning, Ajax tips his head to one side. Inquisitive. Eager. Puppy-like. Bless the Holy Mother, you really were going to be sick. 

“Aww, come on. Didn’t I tell you already?” He laughs softly, but those blue, blue eyes reflect none of that same humor. They reflect nothing at all, in fact. “I'd hoped we’d get to meet again after our little run in yesterday, so I just figured I’d take matters into my own hands and speed it up. I brought you flowers.” 

You just catch the sound of the archbishop scoffing beside you in obvious disapproval and you would have wholeheartedly agreed with him under better circumstances. But better circumstances would not have found you panting with the effort of keeping your wits about you. It was like you were suffocating under the weighty pressure of the mark branded into your skin, and it almost seems to throb as you numbly look down at the humble bouquet he holds out. You could tell it was handpicked at just a glance. Some frost growing ferns and puffy cats tails, and … purple ivy. 

Affection. 

Fidelity. 

Wedded love. 

He couldn’t be serious, could he? 

The sly edge that creeps into his otherwise boyish smile seems to suggest that he was, in fact, quite serious. You stumble back a step in your reeling disbelief and the archbishop hurries to grab you by the elbow so he can steady you, but you hardly even notice the presence of his hands. Your eyes, your mind, your entire being was for Ajax and Ajax alone. 

“I did not ask for flowers.”

“That’s true but I still wanted you to have them. You caught my eye yesterday, Sister. I hope you won’t turn me down.” 

Confusion and uncertainty grip you in equal measure, but it is the low pulse of the mark on your stomach that truly robs you of the ability to speak. It’s hot and uncomfortable, and the way it makes your pussy sympathetically flutter in time with your heartbeat very nearly overrides all of your higher functioning thoughts. Was he really the monster that had accosted you in your sleep or … could it have been a separate entity? One he wasn’t even aware of, if he thought you could really reject him when just the sight of him standing there made you desperate to be filled again. To be feasted upon by that beast. 

Slowly, you reach your hand out to accept the bouquet and the invisible string tightens its noose around you almost imperceptibly. Your fate was already sealed. You knew this to be true on an intrinsic, fundamental level. 

Foul Legacy had been right to say you’d been saving yourself for it. 

For him. 

For this. 

You would give him your sanctuary, may the Holy Mother save your soul.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 12 - Storm Chaser

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

The day truly began with the arrival of a scroll.  

You were sitting to breakfast, and your sisters hurried to receive it, while you lingered in the background, spreading damson jam onto a slice of toasted bread.   

You expected the scroll to be another invitation from Helaena, yet as Maris brought it to the table, you could see that the wax seal was black, embossed with the same Targaryen sigel as your note from Aemond.   

In fact, the only difference between the scroll you’d received last night, and the one delivered this morning, was the name written across the front.   

Maris Baratheon.  

You get an instant bad feeling, which is only made worse by the look on her face as she unfurls the scroll, and a handkerchief flutters to the ground.  

"Your favour!” Cassandra exclaims, bending quickly to retrieve it, and she’s right. It is Maris’ favour.  

Bright golden marigolds are still delicately stitched into the shape of a heart, but the fabric is pristine, as though it’s been carefully laundered to remove all trace of human touch.   

You can’t help but think of your own favour, dusty and ruined, but held so fiercely in Aemond’s hand.  

“What does it say?” Cassandra asks, leaning in to look, but Maris shifts away so she can read in silence, her eyes quickly scanning the words, her brow creasing with every passing moment.  

This can’t be good, you think, and your toast slips onto your plate, as you try to imagine what had been going through Aemond’s mind when he’d put pen to parchment this morning.  

Asking for Maris’ favour had been bad enough, returning it was a thousand times worse.    

Did he really know nothing when it came to women?  

After her second read through of the scroll, Maris scrunches it lightly in her hand before laughing sharply and smoothing it back out to read a quote.   

“Prince Aemond wants to ‘ thank’ me for my favour, and for being a ‘ dear friend to Helaena. ’ But does not wish for me to think he had ‘ any intentions’ beyond ‘honouring a friendship’ with his sister . ”  

There is a long pause. An uncomfortable pause.  

All those books and he really did know nothing .  

“I’m so sorry, sister,” Cassandra console’s gently, reaching to offer a compassionate hand for Maris’ shoulder. But Maris explodes before Cassandra can touch her, thrusting the parchment into your face.  

“This is all your fault!”  

“My... fault ?” you stutter, feeling that it is, in fact, all your fault though not for the reasons she believes. You’d told him not to toy with her, but you hadn’t told him to do this .  

“You are always so rude to him! To everyone! Is it any wonder nobody likes you?” she pauses, tears streaking her cheeks and, perhaps she’s wondering if she’s gone too far, yet she doesn’t stop.   

“You didn’t even bother to come to the hall last night. Did you even bother to give him the remedy? Or was that too much to ask when all you’ve done all summer is hide in your room?”  

“I gave it to him,” you say, your voice no more than a whisper as you try to ignore the sting of her words.  

“And then what?” she demands.  

You look at Cassandra, hoping for a port in the storm, but she’s waiting for your answer with as much interest as Maris.  

So, you shrug and pick up your knife to add even more jam to your toast, though you can’t imagine eating it now. What you really need is time to think, to decide what to say, because what happened after you gave him the remedy will really make her mad.    

Still, it is the truth, so you say it as plainly as you can without going into too much detail, or mentioning the part where Aemond had threatened every man in court who had any interest in pursuing your hand.  

“I gave his grace the remedy... and the queen asked if I might stay a while to keep him company. So we had a glass of wine and played a game of Cyvasse.”   

“You. Played. Cyvasse? And you did not think to tell me this until now? ” she waves the parchment around in the air as though it is a weapon, and the look of betrayal is clear on her face. But you’re growing tired of protecting her feelings from the truth.  

Maris was not the only person in this family.  

What of your feelings?  

What of your torment these past few weeks?  

You straighten yourself in the chair, meeting her temper with more steel in your voice, “I was sleeping when you returned last night, and what difference would it make? It was just a game, it had nothing to do with you and, to be perfectly honest, I think you would hate every moment of Aemond’s company if you spent any amount of time actually speaking to him.”  

“We have spoken,” she says defensively, but polite conversation was not real conversation.  

You stand, scoffing, “then you must know he is insanely arrogant, ridiculously competitive, completely insensitive and possesses not an ounce of chivalry. He spends almost all his free time reading, which you hate, playing Cyvasse, which you also hate, and regarding everyone at court as though they are complete idiots.”  

She tilts her head, her eyes narrowed as though she has come to some fresh conclusion, “are you certain you’re not describing yourself, sister ?”  

“I am nothing like him!”  

“Maybe you just want him for yourself then? Is that it? Was that your plan all along?”  

You gasp, more than a little dumbfounded by the accusation, “are you even listening to me?”  

“Yes, and you seem to know an awful lot about a man you claim you do not like.”  

Clenching your hands into tight balls, you’re annoyed that Maris is right.  

You do know him; far more than you would want to know a man you despise as much as you despise Aemond Targaryen. But, more than anything, you’re annoyed that anyone could think, even for one moment, that you would ever desire him!    

Yet , it’s your tone which now sounds defensive, "first you say I’m ruining your chances by being rude to him, now you’re saying I’m trying to steal him from you? Which one is it? Why don’t you decide before I tell you how stupid this entire conversation is.”   

At that, you abandon your breakfast, your sisters, and your cloak, as you head towards the door and tear it open, leaving it to swing on its hinges in your haste to get away.  

Seven Hells! You scream internally as you storm through the halls, the skirts of your dress kicking up with every stride as though they are trying to trip you.  

You hardly thought it was possible to hate Aemond any more than you already did, yet you feel as though you could tear him limb from limb as you make your way towards the gardens, seeking refuge in the long willowy stems of the blooms.  

But, like everything else in this cursed Red Keep, all you find is disappointment, as the first careful drops of rain hit the ground while dark clouds gather for as far as the eye can see.  

Knowing you should turn back, you press on. Hurrying along the gravel path to where a small stone folly is nestled among the fading summer roses.   

It isn’t much, but it's enough to provide temporary shelter as the rain turns into a downpour. The promise of thunderstorms crackling in the humidity.   

You’ve never longed for home more than you do right now. Even if Storms End had sometimes felt like a prison with her tall, dark walls; her dusty corridors had never felt quite so desolate as the bustling halls of the Red Keep.  

If you were home, there would be no sisters standing guard outside your room, no courtiers to avoid and, more importantly, no dragon prince .   

Stretching out your hand, you catch cool drops of rain in your palm, and can’t help but think of the beach. The thrill of the water rushing against your skin, the pull of the tide-  

“My Lady?”  

Startled, you turn towards the sound.  

“Lady Baratheon?” Tyland Lannister says, as though you might be confused about who he was talking to in a garden emptied by the storm. Yet, you’re so surprised he’s speaking to you, you look around just the same.  

“What are you doing out here?” he exclaims, his hair soaked with water as he strips his cloak from his shoulders before throwing it over yours without question.  

You're too stunned to answer, but he doesn’t wait for you to say anything. He takes your arm, guiding you across the garden to where a little covered terrace offers far better protection from the elements and, beyond the door, you can see the chambers are decorated in the style of House Lannister.  

He pulls out an iron chair from under an iron table and you sit, wishing you’d removed his cloak first, as he takes the other seat.  

“It has been far too long since I’ve enjoyed your company,” he says, as though the whole thing wasn’t by some cowardly design.   

You don't reply. You can’t exactly ask him why he’s chosen this precise moment to risk the removal of his manhood at the hands of Aemond Targaryen- but you do wonder it.  

What has changed since you last spoke?  

He'd seemed so afraid then and appears so relaxed now.  

He even smiles when you meet his eye, his gaze scraping approvingly across your cloaked form as though he’s very satisfied about the current situation indeed.  

Then he gestures for the servant, and she pours hot tea into delicate little cups while a long silence begins to stretch across the table, its length marked with every drop of rain which taps on the roof until he decides to speak.  

“How long until you return home, Lady Baratheon?”  

“Three days.”  

“Only three?” he shifts in his chair, his hand clenched while his thumb brushes thoughtfully across his finger, “I hear the Stormlands can be quite unforgiveable come winter.”  

You pick up your cup, “only to those who cannot withstand them, my lord.”  

“Casterly Rock is always pleasant no matter the time of year. You would like it, I think.”  

"My sister Cassandra would like it more. She loathes to be cold, but I could not find any pleasure in the summer if there was no winter to keep her in balance.”  

“And how did you enjoy the tourney?” he asks then, flitting the subject to one he hopes you can agree on, and you suddenly remember all the reasons you were trying to avoid his company before Aemond intervened.  

The rigid conversations, the fawning look in his eye, and the unspoken expectation of flattery and obedience.  

“I detest tourneys,” you admit, and Tyland’s gaze widens, his teacup hovering just below his lips.  

“I suppose they can be quite violent for ladies with such tender hearts.”   

His words make you feel a little nauseated as you settle your cup back onto the table. “It is not my tender heart which finds them disagreeable, my lord, it is my objection to idiocy in the name of glory.”  

Tyland frowns, confused by your honesty and seeming unsure on how to react.   

He was supposed to ask if you liked tourneys, and you were supposed to smile and say yes, before agreeing with every other remark he decided to make. But you were in no mood to fake interest for the sake of propriety or to fake anything at all.  

“My lady seems quite unsettled by the storm,” he decides with a small uncomfortable laugh, “perhaps you will feel more comfortable inside, where it is much warmer?”  

You glance back into the room, where it is all red upholstery and golden lions, and get the distinct feeling that this could be your life, if you wanted it.  

All you had to do was play the part you’d been born to play, and he would ask for your hand, and you would birth a little Lannister baby come spring.  

It would be so easy. The Lannister’s were wealthy and powerful, so you could find endless comfort and safety in this golden cloak. But were you really prepared to settle for comfort because you were too afraid of a little storm?  

Tyland was old enough to be your father, and boring enough to be completely harmless, but what was marriage without passion? Only duty, and all at once, you find you're not prepared to give your life away so readily in the name of that.  

So, knowing it’s likely a terrible mistake to spurn the possibility of such an enviable match, you do it anyway.  

“Please,” you stand, fiddling with the clasp of his cloak before it slips from your shoulders into a pile on the chair, “do not aim to speak with me again.”  

Tyland stands too, his face even more perplexed than before, as you head back into the rain like a mad woman instead of a future Lady Lannister, and you feel not a thimbleful of regret.  

Nor are you content. The downpour seems relentless, your dress growing heavier and heavier with every step you take as you trudge along the winding paths.  

Yet even with the rain, you do not wish to face your sisters, and feel as though there is really no place to go except one .   

The Crown Library.  

~~~

Thank you for reading! This chapter was getting so long I had to split it into more manageable chucks but that means next chapter is all Aemond :D

[arcanesea]

Slow morning | bang chan x reader | 615 w.

When you hear birds chirping and bright lights penetrating your eyes, you stir in your sleep, a little uneasy. You try to regain your consciousness quickly when you feel an empty space next to you. That is when you realize that you slept throughout the whole night. Something that doesn’t happen much for the last 4 months. You slowly slip out of the bed, tying your hair in a ponytail.

Your feet take you to the connected room, the door slightly ajar. When you peek inside, you find out the reason for your undisturbed sleep last night. Watching as Chris sleeps on the armchair next to the crib. One of his hands stretched out inside the crib, your daughter faintly trying to reach it with her small hands. Padding across the carpeted floor, you take a moment to bask in the scenery. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your husband’s phone on top of the changing table. Quietly picking it up, you snap a picture of the moment when your baby responds with a soft giggle. You send the picture to yourself before placing the phone back down and picking up your daughter.

You take a look at your daughter, judging if she needs a change of diaper before you prepare breakfast. But it seems like she’s already in a good mood. You took two slices of bread and put it on the toaster. While waiting, you took out a cup from the cabinet and poured yourself milk.

“Did you have a good night's sleep baby?” you ask your daughter with a small voice. She responds with a grabbing motion to your face, smiling. You took a sip from your cup, feeling a little bit better than usual.

“Good morning,” you heard a sleepy voice from behind you, followed by a pair of strong arms circling your stomach. Chris sinks his head in your nape, giving it feather kisses. “Sleep okay?”

“Good morning, baby,” you respond, tilting your head to meet his. “I had the best sleep.”

“Good, good, you look so tired,” he said again, not letting you go even as you tried to move. You only laugh in response. Tired is the default look for newborn parents, that’s for sure. But he’s sensible enough to take a month off after you give birth. When you feel like you’ve got the pace of being a mom, you assure him that it’s okay if he wants to come back to the studio. It took the both of you a week to settle on that, and he never stays too far away from his phone, in case you need him right away. He also took a drastic change in his working hours, coming home early to help you take care of the house, and trying not to leave too early in the morning just to bid goodbye to your daughter.

“Coffee?” you offer him.

“Yes, please,” he answers, finally letting you move freely. “Let me take her,” he said again, reaching for the baby. You turn to position the baby comfortably before returning to the pantry. He took a seat at the dining table, starting his baby talk that never makes you not smile, asking your daughter all kinds of questions.

You set down his coffee cup along with a sandwich you quickly assemble on the table. With that, you murmur a soft “thank you,” leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips.

“What for?” he asks, putting on a confused face.

“For making me the luckiest woman in the world,” you respond with a smile.

“Baby,” he said, taking his chance to lean in and return your kiss, “You’re not the only lucky one.”

a/n. it's 3 am and I'm thinking abt chan as a dad. very normal i guess? every time i remember those 2 episodes of him on the return of superman, my heart seriously gets warm... he'd be the best dad out there🥹🥹

divider from @cafekitsune (thank you<3 will be using them for future posts too.)

[msbigredmachine]

New To This - Chapter 4

MASTERLIST

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

The alarm on her phone had never sounded so loud before. Ever. It was a battle for Delilah to untangle herself from the sheets, grope around the bed for the pesky phone and disable the offensive sound. Cracking one eye open, then cringing at how bright the phone screen was, she glanced at the time and groaned. Five-thirty already? Jesus.

Throwing the sheets off of herself, Delilah struggled to blink her eyes against the darkness as she ran down her mental morning checklist, which mainly consisted of excuses to remain in the comfort of her bed. She’d been doing so ever since she began her training as a wrestler, but no matter how she tried, nothing seemed to be ever good enough, especially when she had two jobs awaiting her each day. And speaking of…the feel of the air conditioning against her skin reminded her that the light bill had to be paid in some form or the other, and soon.

Rolling out of bed, she winced as her feet touched the floor. The smoke had cleared and every muscle in her body now ached from her match the night before. Every ache would be worth it though, if she could experience the same exhilarating feeling she did in the aftermath – the applause, the plaudits, the attention. She only wished her husband-to-be didn’t have to fuck it all up last night by bringing her crashing back down to earth.

In all honesty, inviting Tank and Jey to her home after her match  had been a deliberate act on her part. Part of her had wanted Andre to be happy for her, and to realize that other people supported her. But deep down, another part just wanted revenge for all of the late-night boys’ nights he and his friends had shared while she herself was trying to get some rest. She really wanted to feel guilty for being selfish and retaliating, but after the way he’d disrespected her last night, feeling bad was a hard sell for her right now.

She tensed up when she heard the bathroom door open. His footsteps were soft and cautious, and as he appeared in front of her looking haggard in ragged jeans and a flannel shirt, he was rubbing his hand over his face. “Mornin’,” he mumbled, raising his tired eyes to hers and cringing at her angry expression. “Look…about last night,” he started.

“Ugh, here we go,” she rolled her eyes, wincing a little as she hauled her aching body off the bed and stood upright.

Andre followed her every move, his shoulders sagged dejectedly. “Babe, I’m tryna apologize here.”

“Oh really! Apologize for what exactly?” she demanded, “Not being there for me, or humiliating me in front of the two people who cared enough to come see my match, one of whom, by the way, is a big name in the company I could only dream of being a part of one day. Which is it, huh?”

“Dee, come on…”

Shaking her head, she turned and limped out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator, grabbing ingredients to set about making a sandwich for herself. None for Andre, hell no. She was more than mad at him right now. Plus, he was capable of fixing his own breakfast.

She heard footsteps a few minutes later, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Andre approaching the kitchen cautiously. He stood next to her, his sheepish expression a stark contrast to her irritated one. “Baby, I’m sorry. I was a dick,” he began, not taking his eyes off of her. “I was tired and cranky and wasn’t thinking rationally. Please forgive me.”

Delilah felt her stomach plummet when she noticed his bottom lip quivering. He knew what that did to her. He pinned her with those heartbreaking brown eyes of his, which shone with emotion, and she felt her heart thaw just a little bit. Sighing, she grabbed a couple of bread slices to make another sandwich. Shaking her head, she said, “I knew you’d be in bed, tired from work. I shouldn’t have brought them here so late.”

Squinting against the harsh fluorescent light overhead, Andre’s brows furrowed. “So that was the Jey Uso guy, huh?” Delilah nodded, handing him his sandwich as he cringed. “He’s a big dude.”

The wrestler-in-training took a bite of her sandwich, considering the goofy expression on his face and marveling at how attractive he was right at this moment. “He is. And probably pissed off too,” she added. “But don’t worry, I’ll see if I can work something out with him and Tank,” she winked.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it,” Andre chuckled. From there, a comfortable silence reigned as the couple settled down to have breakfast, each of them stealing secretive glances when the other wasn’t looking. Again, all seemed to be well. The calm manner in which they settled conflicts was something they’d both come to recognize as a key component of their relationship. Sometimes though, Delilah wished she knew how to remain angry with him. Maybe that way, he’d take her more seriously and stop shoving things under the rug like he tended to do a lot.

“So, two hundred dollars, huh? That’s a lot of money you made last night,” Andre commented, wiping stray mayonnaise from his mouth with the corner of his sleeve. “Any idea on how you’re gonna spend it?”

She did have an idea, but she was a bit surprised that he was asking. “Well, I split it in two; one part should be enough for the light bill,” she explained, “I confirmed that the deposit for the hall we’re renting for the wedding is covered, so we good on that front. I’m goin’ grocery shopping after my shift. It’ll be fresh foods for us this time, no canned stuff,” she added with a grin. “And if you’re lucky enough, Mr. Gibson, you might just get a nice, juicy steak for dinner.“

Licking his lips, Andre rubbed his hands together. "Hmm, that sounds like a plan, my love,” he said, checking his watch, then grabbing his car keys from the counter and moving towards his wife-to-be. Delilah was taken by surprise as he scooped her lips with his, seemingly determined to savor her delicious taste before he ventured off for the day. 

“I love you, babe,” he murmured against her lips, his calloused hands leaving her slender waist to squeeze her backside. “It’s Dee & Dre forever, you know that right?”

Delilah squealed lightly, pushing him away and handing him his backpack. “I love you too. Dee & Dre forever,” she repeated, grinning when he kissed her one more time. She watched as he headed towards the front door. Then, he stopped and turned, a small smile on his gorgeous face.

“I’m glad you did well last night. This wrestling thing might not be so bad, ya know,” he said, the sincerity in his eyes making Delilah swoon inside.

“Thanks,” she accepted the compliment with a blush, staring at the door as it shut behind him. Clearly Andre was having a change of heart. Maybe he would come around after all.

By the time she finished cleaning up the kitchen, Delilah’s body was crying out for her bed. She had only a few more hours to get some sleep before she had to be at the grocery store for her first job of the day. As her head hit her bed once again, she dreamed of replacing her rather meager paycheck for the much larger one she was guaranteed to receive as a WWE Superstar.

Seven a.m. rolled around faster than five did, and this time, it was the ringing of her phone that woke her up. Groggy and annoyed, she answered. “Hello?”

“Mornin’ baby girl. Did I wake you?”

Squinting, Delilah stared at the unidentified number on her phone, wracking her still sleepy brain for the owner of the deep, unfamiliar baritone voice. Putting her phone back to her ear, she demanded, “Who is this?”

“Damn girl, did you lose my number already?” the deep, yet soft voice responded teasingly. 

Heaving a sigh of relief as her brain finally sparked to life, Delilah slumped back against the pillows. "Jesus, Josh. You kinda scared me. What’s with the sexy creepy mystery voice this early in the morning?”

"Hmm, you think I’m sexy, huh?”

The mischievous tone of his voice reemerged, and Delilah shook her head and sighed. “Homie, I said sexy and creepy,” she reminded him. “That ain’t no compliment. That’s like being compared to a stalker. Or a serial killer.”

This time, Josh laughed out loud. “What the fuck kinda analogy is that? I ain’t never had no female compare me to a stalker before, or a serial killer for that matter,” he said.

“Yeah, well, you sound like that, so think about that next time you go around making wake up calls with no warning,” she retorted. 

“Everything okay?” Josh questioned, his previous playful tone morphing into concern. “You sound a lil' agitated.”

There were a lot of reasons to be agitated. Like for one, why he was calling her so early in the morning. If Andre would take kindly to another man hitting her up like this. After a brief moment of silence, along with her sleepy brain finally catching up with events, she replied, “I’m fine. So, is there a reason you’re calling or was it just to scare me shitless?“

"There’s a reason, sweetheart, take it easy,” Josh responded.

“Spit it out then.”

“Dee, relax, damn,” he reprimanded her softly. “You ever watched a WWE pay-per-view live before?”

She walked around the bedroom, getting her things ready for the day. “What, like on cable? Many times, yeah. Why?”

Josh chuckled. “A’ight, let me rephrase that. I meant have you ever been to a live event before? Like in an arena or a stadium?”

“No. Never. I had a few chances as an adult but I was always busy.” In reality, she couldn’t afford to go. Her limited income was always eager to remind her how expensive tickets were. She couldn’t even afford to give away ten dollars a month for the WWE Network. She always recalled the year 2018 with a hint of sadness. WrestleMania 34 had been only a three-hour drive from Pensacola, but the tickets were much too steep to even think of making that drive. The show ended up being one of the more memorable Manias, and it was one of the numerous times she regretted her and Andre’s financial difficulties.  

“Raw is in Panama City in two weeks,” the Samoan informed her. “I was wondering if you would be interested in attending. You and your fiancé of course,” he added quickly, as though to prevent her from getting the wrong idea. “Both o’ y’all will be there as my guests.”

Delilah stopped in her tracks, trying to digest this tantalizing offer. “Wait, really? You’re inviting us personally?”

“Why not? I thought it’d be something you’d wanna see.”

“I totally do. That’s so kind of you. I gotta talk to Dre first, but I’d love to be there. Definitely.”

“Great, I’ll make the arrangements for the tickets,” Josh responded, and she noticed the relief in his voice. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your beauty sleep,” he went back to teasing her, “I look forward to seeing you in two weeks, Delilah.”

Fuck. The way he said her name though. She thought back to the way the L’s rolled off his tongue whenever he pronounced them, in such a seductively lethal manner, coupled with the sensual twinkle in his eye…

Suddenly she felt a little heated and flushed, despite the air-conditioning. Willing away the fluttering in her chest, she gripped her phone a little tighter. “Can’t wait. Take care,” she whispered, mumbling a goodbye and hanging up. She breathed deeply and tilted her head up, lost in thought. That was done. Now all she had to do was convince Andre that they could afford to spend a few days in Panama City. But more importantly, convince herself that she was only looking forward to the live event in two weeks and nothing else.

————-

Thoughts?

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[eds6ngel]

second idea: would just love something with a convo about alena calling reader her step-mom or mom, instead of ms. or maybe something with alena calling reader mom for the first time! just cute and fluffy💖

of course honey!! this one is short and sweet, but touching nonetheless ♡

warnings: dad!steve. mom!reader. fem!reader. 90s!au. swearing. food mentions. fluff. comfort. slight mentions of alena's trauma due to motherly neglect. lots of happy tears from alena and reader. this is just extremely cute and endearing really!! [1.3k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

With Steve having to take on a weekend shift at Target, you tackled the weekly Sunday grocery store trip with Alena. Before leaving that morning, Steve gave you an overflowing list of groceries, more than he definitely needed.

“Why does your dad put so much on the list, baby? Like, watermelon. When has your dad ever eaten watermelon?” You were holding onto Alena’s small, soft hand, guiding her with you as you pushed the shopping cart with your left, slowly filling it up with each aisle you pass.

“I like watermelon!” she beams with a smile, you laughing as you reply, “But, not a whole watermelon! If you ate an entire watermelon, your belly would be this big.” You demonstrated by holding your hand out far away from her stomach, her gasping and going, “I would not be that big!”

Tsking with a squint of your eyes, you reply, “Oh, but I think you would, sweetpea! You would have a massive watermelon belly! Big ‘ol belly.”

The conversation with the eight-year-old slowly drifted away as you arrived at the cake aisle. She lets go of your hand, running over and jumping up and down, pointing up and shouting, “Look! A Smurfs cake! A Smurfs cake!”

You look down at her and raise your eyebrows, smirking, “So, instead of a watermelon belly, you want a cake belly?”

“Cake belly sounds better! Can I have the Smurfs cake mubba?”

You delicately lift the box, Papa Smurf stood proudly next to his daughter Smurfette, two huts perched in the background, other Smurfs going about their daily activities presented in different-coloured icings. Turning the box over, it read: ‘A jam and cream sponge, completed with edible icing for decoration.’

“I think…” you stroke your chin, “If we buy this cake, you have to be a good girl to your dad for the rest of the week, okay?”

“And to you! I’ll be a good girl for you too!”

You chuckle, ruffling her hair, “And for me, obviously,” playfully rolling your eyes and placing the cake into the cart, “Smurfs cake it is!”

“Yes!” Alena cheeses, gripping her fist tight and pulling them towards her chest in celebration.

The two of you continue walking down the aisles, having to make a pit-stop for longer than expected at the bread section. Steve had written down ‘loaf of bread’ on the list, but the endless piles of different brands, sizes and types left you in slight confusion. You had recognised that the Harringtons liked their white bread, an easy ignorance to the brown loaves. However, the size of the loaf was something you were unsure on. Since there were only two of them, perhaps three if you stayed overnight and needed a slice of toast for breakfast, you agreed with yourself on the smaller loaf. It was no worry if he indeed did usually buy the bigger loaf, you could always make a stop on your way home from work and pass it over to them.

“All right, Pepperidge Farm’s Hearty White Bread is what we’re going for! Does that sound all right with you Ale—” But, as you look down, the little girl is nowhere to be found. You peer down the aisle, a flowery, yellow dress and brunette pigtails out of sight. Your internal panic begins to rise, deciding to quick power back to the aisle you just visited, wondering if she waltzed back to the chocolate section.

But, you don’t see her. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, deciding your next safest bet was two aisles down, the one after the bread aisle. “Steve’s gonna fucking kill me,” you curse lowly, scared to death that you had lost his daughter. However, before you can make a turn to the right, the end of your cart collides directly into an older woman, her wearing a simple, long black dress, glasses neatly sat on the bridge of her nose.

“I am so sorry—” you begin to profusely apologise, however, the sight of Alena held tightly on her hip makes you let out a lengthy sigh. Thank God she was safe.

But, the word that comes out of her mouth shocks you to your core. “Mommy!”

Mommy. She called you mommy.

“Don’t apologise my dear, it’s okay!” the old woman calms your presence, “I’m assuming this one is yours. Poor baby was scared to death. Said she went around the corner and when she came back, you were gone.”

It’s then that you notice the tears rolling down her face, lips quivering and her holding her arms out, as if she wanted you to grab her. And that was the moment you knew: you were her mom.

The old woman lifts Alena up, you gripping her to your side as you cradle her head, her tears falling onto your bare shoulder. “It’s okay. Mommy’s got you. Mommy’s got you, baby.”

As you look up, the woman is smiling at the pair of you as she says, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. It was a simple mistake, you seem like a wonderful mother.”

You nod, mouthing a small “Thank you” as she bids farewell, attending back to her own grocery shopping around the corner. You cup the back of Alena’s head, stroking her hair as she stares at you with her beautiful, hazel orbs, just like her dad’s. God, they looked so much alike.

“Mommy,” she whispers out, almost as if she said nothing. You smile, letting a few tears fall yourself as you murmur back at the same volume, “Yeah, I’m your mommy, baby.”

And that’s when the waterworks burst for her. Even though she has no recollection or memories of her biological mom, you could tell it still had some heartbreaking effect on her subconsciously. It was a trauma she had no idea existed. You were the first ever figure in her life that resembled a mother, that cared for her like a mother, that supported her like a mother. So, that’s what you were. No, step-mom, no adoptive mom, just mom.

And even though she was eight years old, you cradled her in your arms as if you were caring for a newborn whose emotions were simply too big for their small body. You press a tender kiss to the side of her head, wiping the tears away from her face, making sure the salty liquid doesn’t fall into her mouth, infecting her taste buds.

She whimpers out, “I-I love you, mommy.”

You didn’t realise until that moment what an emotional impact those four words would hold on you. You’ve always wanted to be a mom, ever since you were a little girl. You think that maternal instinct you seemed to have inherited lead you to wanting to become a teacher in the first place. Something about raising kids to become healthy, human adults made you feel warm inside. But, no teaching position could ever come close to feeling the real thing.

“I love you too, baby girl,” you smile back, the pair of you wetly giggling, Alena using her small thumbs to wipe the tears that escaped from your eyes, collecting in a tiny puddle in the middle of your cheeks. “Want to stay on my hip?”

She nods in reply, “Yes, mommy.” God, you were gonna have to get used to that.

“Okay,” you quietly reply, the two of you continuing down the halls of the grocery store, filling the cart with the remaining items that Steve wished you collected for him.

But, what really was the absolute, top-notch tear-jerker was later that night when Steve returned home from his shift, Alena shouted to you from the living room, “Mommy! Daddy’s home!”

And to see the look on Steve’s face, the one that was of pure shock, made the tears fall all over again. You weren’t just looking after Steve’s daughter anymore, you were her mom, and that was the greatest gift you could’ve ever been given.

i hope you enjoyed!! feel free to keep sending in asks for this series!! also, any general cute comments from my pretty af followers and readers is appreciated too!! ♡

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[shukein]

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿(𝘀): 𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗮, 𝗱𝗲𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲. 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿: 𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭.𝟬𝗸

𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂

today was like any normal day. when there was no lessons to attend to, no errands to run, just a normal day sleeping in the dorm. [name], in the midst of the early morning, could be found in the dorm's kitchen, cooking something nutritious that he and his other three idiots friends could eat.

he'd hum a quiet tune, his gaze focused on the eggs that slowly turned white in the pan, not yet realizing somebody walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, but a loud yawn did catch his attention.

"Mrah? Oh, henchman! You're up early..." the tired grim spoke, his tiny paws rubbing his eyes as he jumped onto the counter, wanting to see what the male was cooking.

"Hm, good morning, Grim. Are the others awake?" [name] inquires, placing the cooked eggs onto a plate as he grabs the pack of raw ham, given generously by Sam at his shop.

"Mm, no." "Ah, well could you go and wake 'em up for me?" [name] queries, placing a few slices into the pan, listening to the satisfying sound of it sizzling.

"Ugh... fine, but only because I get an excuse to hit Ace on the face." and with that, the small creature ascends back up the stairs, followed with a loud scream from ace and deuce, who soon enough chased the weasel down the stairs.

"Get back here, you stupid raccoon!" ace exclaims, chasing grim around the lounge along with deuce, who soon stops when he notices [name] cooking in the kitchen.

"Ah, morning, [Name]. What're you makin'?" deuce walks up behind the [h/c] boy, peering over his shoulder to see what was in the pan. "Eggs and ham. You think you can make some toast for us?"

deuce nods silently, grabbing bread from the cabinet and placing two into the toaster. he'd wait patiently for the bread to pop out of the toaster, having small conversations with the [h/c].

ace soon walks into the kitchen, holding grim from his neck as the latter would scratch at his hand, causing the red-head to hiss and yell at the weasel. "Oi, [Name]! Control your stupid cat here!"

"I'm not a cat! I am the Great Grim! Unhand me now!" [name] merely ignores the two, grabbing out the last few slices of ham out of the pan and placing them on another plate.

"Deuce, mind bringing some plates for us and the toast, please?" he'd grab the plate of eggs, walking past his two bickering friends and sparing his blue haired friend a glance before leaving the kitchen and walking into the lounge.

"Uh, yeah sure," deuce grabs the other slices of toast out of the toaster, placing them on a side plate before grabbing four other plates, heading into the lounge after the [h/c]. all the while ace and grim continued fighting with each other.

but the two soon joins in, hair and fur completely ruffled and a mess as they take a seat down on the ground as far away from each other as possible. "Mm, the food looks good! Nice job, [Name]!"

ace would complement, dishing out some ham and egg onto his plate, grabbing a toast as well as he takes a bite, a hum of satisfaction erupting from him.

"Yeah, maybe you could make me a delicious tuna sandwich, henchman!" grim pitches in, his paws reaching out to take a slice of ham before devouring it.

"Right, anyways, what do you think you got on Crewel's assignment?" [name] suddenly brings up, taking a bite of his toast as he spares the three a short glance.

ace groans in annoyance, simply rolling his eyes as he takes another bite of his food, "Ugh, don't even remind me. I don't wanna think about it." "Well, I bet I got an easy 100!" grim speaks up, a smug grin etched onto his lips.

"Oh, please, your barely passing his class." "Says you, Deuce, you get straight D's, I don't wanna hear you talk about me not passing!" [name] sighs as deuce and grim begin to bicker this time. ace leans back, staring at the [h/c].

"What about, [Name]? What d'you think you got?" [name] hums in thought, tapping his index finger onto the table, "Maybe and 80? I asked Azul and Riddle for help, so I'd hope I get something higher than a 70."

"What!? You cheater! You got Riddle to help you out?" ace and grim yell out in unison, eyes widened in shock. "And Azul didn't make you sign a contract for it?" deuce pitches in, equally shocked as the other two.

"Mhm. I made a promise to Riddle that I'd make him a strawberry tart, as well as helping Cater out with painting the roses for the next unbirthday party. As for Azul... well, I owe him a favor, so, no contracts needed for it."

"Ah, lucky. Though, I probably wouldn't ask that octopus for help. He'd force me to sign a contract, and I learned from my mistakes." ace would say gloomily, grabbing another slice of ham.

"Yeah, and if I were to ask Riddle for help, he'd chew me out for not understanding..." deuce mutters, equally as gloomy as he slowly chews his food.

"Ugh, [Name]! Why couldn't you have taken me with you so they could've helped me out too!?" grim exclaims, huffing out as his small paws slam against the table.

"Hm? I told you, but you said you could do it yourself. Besides, who was the one that said they got an 'easy 100' just a minute ago?" [name] responds, grabbing another egg and eating it.

"Hey! Don't use my words against me!" grim yells, exclaiming a loud groan of annoyance as he lays his body on the floor.

"Hah... whatever, at least I know I'm not the only one who probably failed..." deuce would say, leaning his body against the couch as he was seemingly finished with his food.

"Oi, don't lump me in with you and this guy, I never said I failed, I just didn't want to think about that stupid assignment." ace grumbles, glaring at the blue haired boy as he points down at the beastman who laid still on the floor.

"Ace, you barely pass Crewel's class either, I think it's fair that Deuce can lump you in with him and Grim." [name] would say, playfully rolling his eyes as he grabs the dirty dishes and heading into the kitchen.

"Huh?! What's that supposed to mean?" "Yeah, henchman! Explain yourself!" "I said what I said. You're all idiots."

"Huh?!"

©SHUKEIN. please do not translate or repost any of my work on any other platform, or claim any of it as your own. 2024

[weemswife]

Work exhaustion

Larissa Weems x Female reader

Summary: Reader works as a part-time assistant for a fashion editor, so sometimes she can have very long and exhausting days at photoshoots, and this day was one of them.

Author's note: so yeah this is my first ever fanfic that i have written so please be kind lol, and this fic is maybe more like ‘day in my life’ kind of fic and is more focused on the reader than Larissa. And the fic is actually briefly based on my recent workday but i of course changed many things. Btw i would love to know your thoughts on this fic, and please remember that english is NOT my first language. And this is probably the messiest fanfic ever lmao.

Warnings: a brief mention of sexual content, exhaustion, a bit of strong language, bad english i think that's it but please let me know if you think other ways. ty :)

Word count: 2357

*alarm sound goes on*

“Goddamnit” you mumbled quickly turning off the alarm so you wouldn't wake the sleeping woman next to you.

you checked the time on your phone and it was 6:40am. You weren't a morning person at all so it took all of you not to go back to sleep because you knew how long your day was going to be.

You quietly got up from the bed the two of you shared, you didn't want to wake up Larissa because the school hasn't started yet so she could sleep a bit longer than normally even though she would be doing work things on her computer during the day, she didn't have to wake up at 5am like she normally did. You walked to the bathroom that was connected to your large bedroom and did your morning routines, after that you quietly gathered all the things you needed from the bedroom and went to the kitchen/livingroom to change your clothes that you already chose last night, (the outfit was just a dark blue hoodie and jeans) after changing your clothes you started making your breakfast which was just a piece of bread with cheese and cucumber slices on it and of course you had your morning coffee. 

After breakfast you took your favourite smoothie from the fridge and putted it in your bag because you knew that you needed something to drink during the day, you checked the time on your phone and it was 7:18am, two minutes before you had to leave, so you quickly checked that you got everything and putted your leather jacket and shoes on and then you opened the door of your so called apartment and left. 

Walking through the empty hallways of the Nevermore Academy you took your headphones from the front pocket of your hoodie and putted them on your ears, after that you opened the Spotify app on your phone and pressed play on the ‘This is Fleetwood Mac’ playlist that you listened all the time and the first song that started playing was one of your favourites songs that Larissa actually introduced to you and it was song called ‘Say you will’.

When you finally got out of the school you checked the time and it was 7:22am, you had 13 minutes before your bus to the city you were today going would stop on your closest bus-station, so you started walking toward the bus-station on your normal walking pace which some people wouldn't consider as a normal walking because you were actually a very fast walker, you had always been that way and you believe that you got it from your dad because he was also a very fast walker and of course one reason could be that you were together with Larissa because literally her one step was same as normal person taking two steps. And in your opinion you didn't have problems with keeping up on Larissa’s walking pace when the two of you were walking in the forest or in just around Jericho.

When you got to the bus-station you checked the time on your phone and it was 7:31am so you still had four minutes left before your bus would be there. 

The 4 minutes passed and you finally got on the bus where you would be sitting the next 40 minutes. The only thing that kept you together during the bus trip was music, it was probably one of the most important things in your life and as cliche as it was you believed that you couldn't seriously live without it.  

The 40 minutes passed very quickly and you realised that your stop would be next. You waited for a moment before the bus stopped and you got off. You then started walking to a studio where you would start your day with the photographer, your boss and the model. You were supposed to be at the studio at 8:30am but when you arrived in front of the building you checked the time on your phone and it was 8:22am, you were early as always. Then you realised that the door that led into the studio was slightly open and you were glad about it, because if the door was closed you would have call your boss so she could open it and you really didn't like calling to her so now that you got the change you opened the door a bit more so you could get in and closed it behind your back.

From inside the studio was quiet so you thought that there was no one except you so when you walked a bit forward into the studio you almost freaked out when all of sudden you saw Annie. “Hi” said she “hi, what are you doing here?” you asked “oh well i’ll be the assistant for the photographer today.” she answered. “Okay well i'm happy that you’re here ” you said, you liked Annie even though this  was the second time you actually met her, but she was much more energetic and helpful than you were. You didn't have anything to do so you just chatted a moment with her before she got a text message that she would have to go to the grocery store to get breakfast for your crew.

After a couple of hours everything was ready in the studio and you left to the location with the crew, you literally needed two cars because there was so much stuff that the photographer needed and also the clothes took a lot of space.

After you arrived at a small building that was in the area where the photo shooting would happen you were told that you would be staying the whole time in the building guarding the clothes etc.

So you just sat there and after everytime the shot for one look was done you of course helped the model change, there were 8 different outfits that would be photographed. Of course after your boss realised that you were just chilling during the shoots she made you do a million different kind of things that you had literally never done before.

The photo shoot took only 4 hours and when you were done you had to pack everything and carry all the bags to the car that would take them back to the studio. After everybody was ready you just left, it took a while to get to the studio but when you finally got there you started packing everything away with Annie.

After spending two hours in the studio packing all the clothes, shoes and bags with Annie you were finally free to go and you were exhausted. You thought that it was actually almost funny how tired you were, because all you did during the day was sitting around and help the model get out of the clothes and change in new ones, maybe it was the packing or the fact you slept only 5 hours during last night, or the lack of food or the fact you were working almost 10 hours straight, but honestly it didn't matter. When you left the studio and started walking towards the bus-station with Annie you took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and texted Larissa:

“I’ll be home in one hour and i haven't eaten much today…”

You checked the time and it was almost 6pm so Larissa should be done with her work for the day, so you waited a few moments when you saw that she had seen your messages and then she started writing you back.

“Oh sweetheart, that doesn't sound good, i’ll make you something to eat when you get home:).”

You just replied with “<3”. And then you put your phone back in your pocket. 

You realised that you were already at the bus-station so you waited with Annie for your buses to come, her bus came first so you said goodbyes and then she went in and the bus left. You checked the time on your phone and it was 6:01pm three minutes before your bus comes. So you took your headphones from your bag and put them on your ears and started listening to Fleetwood Mac again.

3 minutes pass and you are already in the bus where you will sit for the next 40 minutes again..

The 40 minutes pass surprisingly quickly when you try your best not to fall asleep and you realise that your stop is next so you get out of your seat and wait for the bus to stop and you get out. After getting out your tired mind realised that you have to walk to the school, you were still exhausted. Honestly you wished that you didn't have to take another step today, but you really didn't have choices because it was too late to call Larissa to come and get you and also you didn’t want to bother her anyway. So you started walking the road that led to the school knowing that it would take much more time than it normally took. 

Almost 15 minutes later, almost at the school you tried your best to walk even a bit faster knowing that in just a moment you would be at home with Larissa. Opening the main door of the school you started walking towards your apartment door, when you came face to face with a large wooden door you unlocked it with your key and went in.

Inside the apartment Larissa was buzzing around your small kitchen while making food for you, but when she heard you opening the door she immediately turned to see you coming into the room. 

“Hi” you said with a small voice, you seriously didn't even have the energy to speak anymore.

“Hi” she answered while walking towards you she saw how exhausted you looked and when she was close enough to touch you she took you into her arms and hugged you.

She eventually let go and started walking back to the kitchen so she could finish the food.

“The food is almost ready dear, so please take your shoes and jacket off and go to sit on the sofa.”

You didn't even realise that you still had your shoes and jacket on so you took them off and walked slowly towards the sofa and tried your best to stay awake.

Meanwhile Larissa has finished the food she made which was chicken and rice because she knew you loved it. She then came towards you and sat next to you on the sofa while speaking quietly.

“The food is ready now sweetheart, you can eat it on the sofa but first you need to change into more comfortable clothing, i can go get the clothes for you but what do you want?” she almost whispered.

“Maybe an oversized t-shirt and my black pyjama pants would be nice” you answered.

“All right, i’ll be right back dear” she said while getting up from the sofa.

A couple of minutes passed and when she came back she saw you almost half asleep. 

You were almost falling asleep until you heard Larissa’s footsteps coming towards you. Now she knelt in front of you and said,

“I’ll help you to change your clothes now if you allow me?”

You just answered by nodding your head.

Then she took the hem of your shirt into her hands and started moving it upwards.

“Darling, could you please raise your hands for me so i can take this hoodie off?” she asked.

You did what you were told and lazily raised your hands so Larissa could get the hoodie off easier.

After she had almost completely undressed you and the only things you still had on were bra and underwear, Larissa watched you for a moment while sitting on the floor in front of you.

Usually this sight would turn her on in seconds but she knew that you could fall asleep in any minute so she gathered herself from the floor and started dressing you in her old oversized t-shirt that had a picture of Stevie Nicks on it and after putting on the shirt she helped you into the pyjama pants.

After that she went back to the kitchen to get you some food, she then returned to the sofa where you were sitting and handed you the plate.

You started slowly eating the food that Larissa had made for you, while she sat next to you and watched while you ate.

After finishing the food you thanked Larissa and leaned your head on her shoulder.

She didn't first even realise that you had fallen asleep until she started hearing that you breath steadied and when you didn't answer anything when she whispered into your ear.

Larissa let you sleep for a while before she slowly stood up and you still didn't wake up. She then gathered you into her arms and lifted you up from the sofa and carried you into your bedroom.

She put you down on the bed and went to the bedroom to get your hairbrush and a small tube of gel that you put on your face every night before going to bed.

After she finished doing your nighttime routines for you and you were still sleeping Larissa just moved you so your position would be more comfortable and then she covered most of your body with the blanket so you wouldn't feel cold during the night.

She then left the bedroom and went back to the kitchen/livingroom and made sure that all things were where they should be so that you wouldn't have to worry about that in the morning.

After cleaning Larissa returned to the bedroom and started doing her own nighttime routines, letting her hair down and brushing it, changing into something more comfortable, doing her skincare routines etc. 

After she was done with the nighttime routines Larissa climbed into the bed and carefully pulled your body close to hers so she could spoon you from behind, then she whispered “good night my love”

And closed her eyes.

[weaveandwood]

Writing Prompt - Gale hosts a camp cookout! Everyone has to bring something to the party. Ora gets very flustered watching him cooking, and one thing leads to another...

Anything for you my love! I wanted to have this done closer to the holiday on Monday but here we are.

NSFW Words: 1982 CN: Oral Sex Watching Gale cook was one of Ora’s favorite pastimes. The sharp focus he got when he was doing something he loved was so attractive. From the very beginning of their journey together she had found her eye drawn to him, but especially so when he was cooking - something about the way his forearm muscles flexed, the furrow of his brows, the precision in his cuts. Someone that exacting with food would surely be as exacting in other areas of their lives, a fact Ora found out first hand almost a tenday ago, when he confessed he loved her and proved his diligence to her pleasure almost every day since. His attention to detail, whether it was spell casting, cooking, or remembering the exact amount of freckles that were sprinkled across her hipbone was one of the traits about Gale she loved the most. 

Now, with Ketheric Thorm out of the picture and Gale very obviously not blown up, he had suggested a celebration dinner where everyone would bring their own dish to the courtyard at the Last Light Inn and contribute to the meal before the party left on the road to Baldur’s Gate with the sunrise the next morning. Not one to relinquish complete control of the meal, he offered to cook the main dish, and claimed his usual prep spot in their campsite, leaving the others to find somewhere else to work on their contributions. Auroria walked up to Gale holding a loaf of bread that she managed to talk Jaheira out of.

“The best hunter in our party shows up with a loaf of bread?” He teased. “No matter, it will go perfectly with what I have planned,” he smiled and kissed her cheek as she pulled over a stool to keep him company while he cooked.

“I’ll have you know it took plenty of effort to get Jaheira to give up this loaf of bread. I’m positive the only reason she did was because we took out Ketheric. She also gave me this,” she smiled as she held up a bottle of wine, one of the better bottles housed in the basement of the Last Light Inn.

“Another thank you gift?” Gale asked, taking the bottle and looking at the label. “I’ve had this before, this is an excellent wine. Almost too good to be enjoyed at a party, better to be shared in more intimate surrounds,” he lowered his voice and winked - winked! -  as he put the bottle under the table, obvious in his intention to take it back to his tent to drink alone with Ora later that night. After they finished whatever battle, scouting mission, or strategy session they had for the day, she loved spending wine-drunk evenings with him while he read to her, his warm voice making even the most academic of passages sound downright sinful, often leading to other sinful acts before the night was over.

As he resumed his culinary work, the rhythmic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board took Auroria back to the thumping of the bed against the wall the previous night, when the two of them managed to secure one of the rare private quarters at the inn - the first thank you gift from Jaheira after defeating Ketheric and restoring Reithwin, breaking the Shadow Curse. After so many nights spent together in bedrolls on the hard ground, sharing a bed, a real bed, was revelatory. They had chased their first releases that night quickly, desperately, a confirmation of their survival, of defying the gods. A fire burned within her as she watched his elegant hands curve around the knife handle much in the same way they curved around the back of her neck whenever he kissed her deeply. 

Why did he have to push his sleeves up like that? It was maddening how she couldn’t draw her gaze away from them or the tendons working in his hands as he grabbed a tomato. The way his hair fell forward into his face as he leaned over, slicing it - each slice precisely the same thickness. The way he bit his lip as he looked for the next ingredient needed. Was she standing too close to the fire? It was suddenly very hot in this area of the camp. 

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours?” He asked, catching her staring at him. 

“Nothing appropriate,” she smiled. “Have you ever been told just how attractive you are when you cook?” 

He chuckled, slicing an onion now. “Well, considering how my last relationship before you was with a goddess who didn’t require food, and then I was a hermit for over a year…no, no one has ever told me that.” 

She stood up, brushing a strand of hair out of his face before leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Well, let me be the one to tell you that every time I watch you cook, I want to peel all your clothes off right then and there and give you as much attention as you give these vegetables.” She planted a kiss on his neck, knowing it drove him wild, confirmation coming in the form of a low groan. “And since we are the only two people in the camp right now, we should take advantage of it,” she said as she nipped his earlobe. 

He set the knife down, kissing her. “As much as I want to take you to my tent and give you every attention, there’s still some prep to do before we are supposed to reconvene at the Last Light Inn, my love. I promise to leave you doubly satisfied before you sleep tonight.” 

“You always do, and I will hold you to that,” she laughed. “But I said I wanted to give you all the attention, remember?” She kissed him again and pressed her body against his, feeling his growing desire for her. She reached between them, her hand rubbing his growing erection through his pants. 

He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers. She felt him gasp against her as she reached inside his waistband, under his undergarments and felt him, growing harder as her fingertips brushed over him. 

He broke the kiss and looked at her, a hint of nervousness on his face. “Out here, Ora? What if someone comes back to camp?” 

She kissed his neck again, smiling against it. “You are Gale of Waterdeep, I have utter faith that you would figure something out,” she smiled as she unbuttoned the front of his pants and loosened the laces on his briefs, enough to keep him covered but grant his hardness enough freedom for her to wrap her hand around it. His sharp intake of breath encouraged her and she started slowly stroking him, feeling him grow even harder in her hand. “I would have you right here, but I know you value privacy, and your tent is just over there,” she whispered. “Maybe you can take just a short break?”

“Gods, Ora, you will be the death of me. But I will die a happy man.” He kissed her and took her hand, putting aside his current duty and leading her to his tent, lowering the flap behind them. 

He put his hands on her hips and kissed her deeply. Her hands wrapped around his back, pulling them closer together. He reached between them for the bottom of her shirt, his hands running under the hem, against the soft skin of her stomach.

“Take it off,” he whispered. 

Auroria nodded, pulling off her shirt, leaving her in only her bralette, much to Gale’s dismay. When they stole time together at the end of the day she never wore anything under her shirts. He ran his fingers along the edge of the embroidered fabric, dipping just barely inside it to feel the even softer skin of her breast. His other hand drifted down, rubbing her over the fabric of her leggings. A soft moan escaped her lips. 

“Gale, I’m supposed to be giving you the attention, remember?” She laughed, her knees almost buckling from the friction between her legs and the way he was looking at her, a man starving. Like he hadn’t feasted from her the night previous, like they hadn’t spent the morning in each others arms, bringing each other into relaxed bliss as the sun rose. She reached between them, unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. Gods, she thought, admiring his chest, running her hands over it. 

“You’re so perfect,” she whispered, kissing down his neck, over the orb marking, down his chest. “Now, take off your pants, my love.” She smiled as he gladly acquiesced, standing naked before her as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him. She looked up at him as she wrapped her hand around him again, hearing him gasp as she stroked, his fingertips resting on her shoulders for balance. 

“Let me touch you,” he whispered. It was still difficult for him to accept receiving pleasure with no expectation of anything in return, no matter how many times she told him she enjoyed it as much as he did. She looked up at him, making eye contact as she flattened her tongue, licking the length of his hardness before taking just the tip in her mouth. 

She thought he might fall over. His eyes darkened with lust and he moaned loudly. His hands went to her hair, tangling in it as she took him farther into his mouth, sucking softly. One of her hands traced up his thigh, feeling the muscles underneath his gorgeous skin before settling on his hip. 

“That feels so good,” he said, watching her intently, his hips starting to rock in tandem with her hand and mouth, making her take him deeper. She hummed against him, loving the feeling of him against her tongue. She stroked him from base to tip, her mouth following, drawing new and louder sounds out of him. She was suddenly glad they were the only ones at camp - she loved when he let himself get lost in pleasure. His hips rocked faster, urging her to suck harder, faster, deeper. His hands were on her head, guiding her as he set the pace. 

She could feel his body stiffen, his breathing become more labored as he neared the edge of his release. She moaned against him, looking up and catching his eyes as the vibrations went through him. He looked down at her. He looked so undone, she had such power over him in this moment. 

“I’m going to…I’m almost…” he whispered. He maintained eye contact with her as he gave two more quick thrusts with his hips, crying out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over him, sending him over the edge. Auroria felt him pulse and throb in her mouth as his release coated her tongue before she swallowed it. 

“Gods, I love you,” he said, smiling as he reached down and stroked her face before helping her stand up.

She kissed him deeply. “I love you too. Thanks for letting me distract you for a moment,” she smiled as he pressed his forehead against hers. “We should probably get back out there and finish up. I’ll even help.”

“Ora, I’m not sure that’s the boon you think it is,” he laughed, remembering the last time she helped him unsuccessfully. 

She smiled and narrowed her eyes at him. “Get your clothes on wizard, and I’ll see you at the inn, then. And don’t think I won’t hold you to your promise of making sure I’m doubly satisfied tonight!” She laughed as she walked out of the tent. 

He smiled and shook his head as he reached for his discarded clothes. Gods, he was glad he didn’t blow himself up.

[jpmarvel90]

All for the mission

Masterlist Nat Masterlist

Relationship: Sister Nat, Sister Yelena x Sister Reader. Wanda x Reader

Summary: Growing up in the Red Room with Natasha and Yelena, Y/n was hurt when she woke up one morning to find them gone. Her life is forever changed by this moment and their reunion doesn't look like it'll bring any chance to fixing things.

Word Count: 12364

Y/n's POV:

I grew up in the red room. It was hell, but the one shining light was my sisters. Natasha and Yelena. I was the youngest, but we looked out for each other, doing what we could to make the others lives easier. We used to whisper to each other at night about our plans to leave. We had hopes for a better life. And that happened, for Yelena and Nat at least.

Early one morning I was dragged in front of Dreykov and was told about how my sisters had escaped together, left in the middle of the night. I was just 15 at the time but that didn't stop the brutality that was to follow. Although we had talked many times about escaping, I knew nothing about their attempt that night. Not that Dreykov or his dogs believed me. As they had lost their two greatest assets, I was to pay the price.

For a whole month, I was locked away in a cell where bright lights were never turned off and loud music played. The only release I would get was the brief walk to the "Interrogation room." But then a new hell would be inflicted on me as I was beaten and tortured. Initially for any information they could get. When they realised, I did in fact know nothing, they did it to punish me. I had a cup or water and two slices of mouldy bread a day. Barely enough to keep me alive. My body is now covered in scars from that brutal month. A reminder that I was expendable to my sisters. Not even worth a second thought as they escaped to start their new lives.

After that month, I was put back into the training programme. I worked my ass off. Not because I wanted to do well for the red room, but because I wanted to be as strong as possible and trusted to go out on missions. I had to escape, and I knew that was my only option.

It took four years before I got my opportunity. A part of me wanted to run as soon as I got my first solo mission, but I had to plan it all perfectly. It couldn't be a mission in the middle of nowhere, I had to have a means to not just escape but find a place to hide. Over those four years, I learnt every way in which they monitored the widows that went on missions. I then worked a way to make sure I could stop all of it to give me the best chance of getting away.

I was meticulous in my planning and finally the perfect opportunity came up. The mission was in the middle of Rome. I would have plenty of opportunity to escape. I just needed to make sure I got rid of all means of tracking me. I was so nervous as they dropped me in. I had to spend a week in Rome first to stakeout my target. This worked perfectly for me as it meant that I had money. I could buy clothes that I knew were clean of any tracking devices. I stuck to the shops near the target to not arouse suspicion. To the red room, I was just keeping up appearances. Blending in.

I ate as little as possible that week, knowing I would need the money to ensure my escape. Once I made my move, I had to be quick, and I wouldn't have time to be begging for help. It was the day I had to take out the target. I had found the most advantageous spot to carry out the assassination. It wasn't practical to their mission, but it was to mine. It provided me with an easy escape to the metro.

So as the time came, I set up my position before starting my daring escape. I was on the metro before they even noticed that I had left my position. Seems it was to my advantage that they had an idiot on comms that day! I got off when I knew they had noticed and found a bathroom to change. I then had the hardest part, cutting out the tracked from the back of my neck. It hurt and bled like a bitch, but I didn't have time to worry about that. I patched it up and jumped back on the metro to my next stop.

I had found a hair salon near Roma Termini. If I had this right, I would have time to cut and dye my hair before getting on the first train out of Rome. Every time I moved, I was careful to keep my face hidden, either wearing a cap or keeping the hood of my jacket up. It all seemed too easy and before I knew it, I was in France. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn't. It just was that easy. My four years of planning had paid off and I was finally free.

I spent the next year moving around mainland Europe, keeping a low profile. But by my 22nd birthday, I was settled in London. I had a job in a bar and a small crappy apartment. To most people, it wouldn't have been great. But to me it was everything. I was free.

I had no desire to follow in my sister's footsteps in become a superhero. I wanted a normal life. Yes, the horrible things I had done still haunt me, but I couldn't risk being caught. If I was, I knew that it would not end well, and I would either be tortured and killed or tortured and back to being a widow. My ledger would only grow.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. I was happily walking home one evening and it felt like someone was watching me. I took the long way home, turning at the last minute or dipping down alleyways. The presence felt closer than ever, and I knew it was time to fight. Before the hand could even reach my shoulder, I had grabbed it and flipped the shadow over my shoulder, avoiding their attempts to fight me off. I had them pinned under me and I saw a familiar smirk. "You've grown mladshaya sestra. (Little sister)"

Anger rages within me and the next thing I know, my fist is connecting with her nose. "Fuck! Ok, I deserve that." Nat says, grabbing at her nose as I stepped off her. I don't want to see her or have anything to do with her. She left me and I'm going to do the same now. I turn and walk away. "Y/n, wait!" Nat calls after me but I ignore her, taking a short cut through the park to my apartment. "Please!" She shouts. "Deep breaths Y/n. Just keep walking and she'll go." I tell myself. "I'm sorry!" She shouts in a desperate attempt to get me to stop.

It works and I stop in my tracks. I turn around to face her, a fire inside of me. "You're sorry?!" I shout at her as she reaches me. She flinches at my voice. "You left me in that hell hole. That was bad enough, but did you even consider that there might be consequences for those that you left behind?!" I yell at her. She doesn't answer me. "Of course, you didn't. We talked about escaping for years and when it finally came to it, you left me." I say in a much quieter tone, the hurt winning out.

"You were just a kid Y/n. You were safer there than if you came with us." She tries to convince me, but I just scoff. "You have no idea what happened to me when they found you gone. But I'll tell you one thing, I certainly wasn't safer." I turn to walk away again, wanting this conversation to end. "We were planning to come back for you!" She calls after me. It makes me stop again as I let out a loud laugh. "Really?! I was there for over 4 years. No sign of you." I chuckle sadly. "But I guess you had other priorities right. Like being an Avenger, keeping up your reputation." I seethe.

"I was coming back for you now. It's how I found out that you had escaped. We want to help you." Nat tries to reach out to take my hand, but I snatch it away. "I got out of that hell hole all on my own and I certainly don't need any help now. Especially from you!" I fumed. "Please pauchok. (Baby spider.)" She pleads with me. "Don't call me that. I don't need you and I don't ever want to see you again!" The pain in her eyes doesn't go unnoticed. But I really don't care. She hasn't been my sister in years.

Turns out, I would have to see her again. Every evening in fact. She found out where I worked, and she would come into the bar every day. The only interaction we would have, was me serving her drink. She would try to start conversations, but I ignored her. I wasn't going to let her in.

One night, to my surprise, she brought Yelena with her. Her body collided with mine as she pulled me into a hug. "I missed you pauchok." I peeled her off me and pushed her away. She frowns at my actions as I don't say a word to her. "Y/n?" She questions, as I return behind the bar. "What can I get you?" I ask her without making eye contact. I notice Yelena look to Nat with sad eyes. "Vodka." She replies taking her seat next to her sister. I place the glass in front of her and pour. Then turning my attention to other customers.

This goes on for weeks. Neither of them getting the picture that I don't want to talk to or see them. After a month, a new face is with them. I don't recognise her, but she is beautiful. It takes me a moment to compose myself before I take their order. "Y/n, this is Wanda. Wanda, this is Y/n our little sister." Nat introduces us. "We're not sisters. We just grew up together." I correct Nat, a wave of hurt flashes across her face. "But it's nice to meet you Wanda what can I get you?" I ask. "Uh, just a pinot please." She speaks quietly, but her accent is familiar. "Sokovian?" I question as I place the glass down in front of her, to which she nods. "Ah. Sorry about what happened there." I say and she shrugs. Getting the sense, she doesn't want to talk anymore, I go back to my job, and more importantly ignoring my sisters.

Wanda started to come in more with Nat and Yelena. I knew what they were trying to do. It was my weakest area. I'm a sucker for love and Wanda was exactly my type. I was always pleasant and nice to Wanda, whilst my "sisters" still got the cold shoulder treatment. She became more comfortable around me, and we hit it off.

She started to come in on her own and then one day asked if I would go on a walk with her. I happily agreed and we went around Hyde Park, getting to know each other. She was so easy to talk to and I felt safe around her. "I know that you're only here because of my sisters." I tell her as we take a seat on the bench. She looks up at me and her mouth opens and shuts a couple of times before she finds her words.

"I'm not actually. They were always talking about this amazing sister they had and showed me pictures. When Nat found you, she showed me a photo she had and there was something about you that I was drawn to. I had to get to know you. So, I asked Nat if I could come with her to meet you one time. She reluctantly agreed and here we are. This is all me Y/n." She reassures me, taking my hand in hers.

And that's how things went for the next month. We spent every day together and I was quickly falling for her. "You know, you really should talk to your sisters. They just want to make sure you're safe and help to get you back on your feet." Wanda says as we snuggle in my apartment. "But I am on my feet. I was never happier until they came back in my life. I've never felt freer." I defend. She adjusts herself so she can look at me better. "They really are sorry. Is there really no way you can forgive them?" She asks with her puppy dog eyes.

I sigh and roll out from underneath her, sitting on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. "It's not that simple Wanda. They just left. One day they were there and the next they were gone. And as their sister. I was the one who had to pay for it. I went through hell, and it was directly caused by their actions." I say, my voice muffled by my hands.

I feel my hands slowly being pulled away as my eyes land on the red head on her knees in front of me. "Tell me what they did to you." She whispers. "You don't want to hear it." I tell her, not wanting to burden her with any of it. "Please?" She asks, cupping my face. Her eyes bore into me, and I knew I was done for. So, I told her. I shared with her what I faced in the month after they left. The different ways they caused me pain and the way they used me as their own toy. Her eyes were red the whole time I spoke. Her anger no longer able to be supressed.

"Show me." She whispers when I finish baring my soul. "What?" I question. "Show me your scars. I want to see all of you." Her words are soft and full of love. I slowly undid the buttons of my shirt and let her push it off my shoulders. She gasps when she sees my torso littered with scars. Her hands slowly running over each one. I can't look at her. Ashamed of the monster they made me. "I'll kill them." She says quietly but there is a venom to her voice.

When she's finished taking in my form, she puts her finger under my chin and lifts my head so I'm looking at her. Her eyes are glossy and full of pain. "These are proof of the strong woman that you are. They show the fight you had to come through to get to where you are today. Never, be ashamed of them." She tells me firmly. I nod slowly, fighting my own tears. She leans in and captures my lips in a soft kiss. We've kissed before, but this one felt different. Like she was showing me that I was accepted and loved. It was the kiss that made me realise I would do anything to stay with her.

That was a decision that came sooner than I thought. The next week she came into the bar, her face showing that she had been crying. She told me how she had to go back to New York. She begged me to go with her, that I could live with her in the compound. I wasn't sure at first. I still wasn't on talking terms with my sisters, but my heart was breaking knowing that if I didn't go with her, I didn't know when I'd see Wanda again.

So, I agreed. I packed up what little I had in my apartment and followed her to New York. I was given my own room in the compound and shown all the facilities that I could use. Turns out they were expecting me. Apparently, Natasha and Yelena had talked to both Tony and Fury about me moving in way back when they found out that I had escaped. They wanted to keep me safe there. I must admit, I could feel the anger towards them starting to thaw, but I knew it would be a long time before I could truly forgive them.

Not wanting to just live off the Avengers, I got myself a job in a local bar and I really was having such a great time. Wanda and I were stronger than ever. Slowly, I was engaging more with my sisters. I had even started to train again. It was nice to have an outlet for my anger. Though it did become a bit of a showcase as I was one of the few that could take down Nat. Which was a surprise to a lot of them.

I formed a quick bond with Tony. I loved being in his lab and I helped him as much as I could. Most days I was with him, he was trying to convince me to join them. But it wasn't for me. Not now at least. But I promised him I would never completely rule out the offer.

Which for him worked out, because he was persistent. I guess you could say I became a part time Avenger. I still wanted to do my job in the bar. It gave me a normality I had craved all those years in the red room. But I also I found a newfound enjoyment in helping out on missions. It was a good balance.

I had been living at the compound for about 8 months now. I was meant to be at work today, but one of the pipes burst so they had to close up and they sent us all home. I was excited to get home as it meant more time with Wanda. She had only just gotten back from a mission at the weekend, so it was a blessing to get some unexpected time together.

When I got to the compound, I heard shouting coming from the common room. I made my way in that direction when I heard my name. Being the nosy person I am, I stayed back, not making my presence known. "I can't do it anymore. It's not fair. It's been 9 months of lying and doing something that I never wanted to do in the first place." Wanda complained. What is she on about? "Maximoff, you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be part of the mission. You knew that you would have to keep up the rouse with Y/n until we knew for sure that she wasn't under the red room influence."

What the fuck?! Was I just a mission to her? "Wanda he's right. We're so close to the end. You just need to hang in there." The voice of my sister feels like a burning knife to my chest. Was this all just a mission. Did they even want to come and find me? I knew I should have stuck to my instinct and not trust them.

"Maximoff, you will continue on with this mission for one more month. That's all I ask. Romanoff, Belova. Keep up what you're doing. We're not far from defeating the red room now." Fury's order ring around the room as my heart completely shatters. I decide now is the best time to make my presence known. I step out into view, and I see all of their faces drop. "I'm glad to know that I'm just a mission." I say as they all stand speechless. "But at least now I know, you don't to keep up the façade anymore Wanda." I say turning my back to leave.

"Y/n! Wait!" Wanda calls after me, grabbing my arm. "Let go of me." I growl, but she doesn't listen. "It's not what it looks like. Please, don't go." She begs but I shake my head. "In the park, when you said this wasn't my sisters doing. I guess you didn't lie. I just got the wrong person. It was Fury. God, I'm so stupid. I can't believe I actually fell for it and even fell in love with you!" I ranted. "No, no. Please." Wanda pleads again. "Answer me one question and I'll consider staying." I say to her, and she nods frantically. "When you came into the bar that first night. Were you there because you truly did want to meet me, or was it part of the mission?" Her head instantly drops, and her gaze is fixated on the floor. "I guess that gives me my answer." I slowly peel her hand from around my arm and walk away. Only this time to be stopped by my sister.

"Y/n." Nat says, moving in front of me, blocking my exit. Yelena by her side. "No. You know, I thought that leaving me in that hell was bad enough. But this. This hurts more than any pain I've been through." I trembled, trying to fight the tears threatening to fall. "You spent all that time trying to get me to forgive you, but it was all lies!" I cry out. "Tell me. Was it all a mission for you too? Were you actually trying to find me?" I can read the answer across their faces, but I want to hear it from them. "ANSWER ME!" I yell, causing both of them to flinch. "We weren't looking for you. Fury had learnt about you and when he found out you were our sister, he gave us the information to find you and to see if you were working for the red room. But we were so happy...." I hold my hand up stopping her straight away.

"You don't trust me. You have spent all this time trying to get me to forgive and trust you, but it was all a lie, because you don't even trust me. After you left, I was tortured and raped all because you were my sisters and had managed to escape their clutches. For four years, I had to fight to stay alive and keep my sanity so I could get out myself. Which I did! I had a normal fucking life. Something I had never thought I would get. But no! I'm the one that can't be trusted! Fuck you!" I scream at them.

I push past them and run to my room before anyone can come after me. "FRIDAY, don't anyone in." I instruct the AI. "Of course, Miss Y/l/n." I start throwing as much as I can in a rucksack. Luckily, I had saved as much money as I could, so I didn't need to worry about that. After a few minutes there is banging at my door. "Y/n, please! Let us just talk." Yelena begs from behind the locked door. I ignore everything they say until Wanda's voice pipes up. "Y/n, baby. Please open the door. It wasn't just a mission. I-I love you!" She cries. "STOP LYING TO ME!" I shout, I can't take listening to it anymore. "FRIDAY open the door please." Nat as, but the AI declines. "Miss Y/l/n has requested the door remains locked. Only Mr Stark can override it." I can hear her sigh. "Yelena, go and get Tony." Nat instructs our sister.

I know that I don't have long to get out of here before Tony gets here. I also don't know who else in the compound was in on this mission. But I'm not sticking around to find out. I leave the promise ring that Wanda had given me on the bedside table. Yanking it off my finger as it felt like it was burning my skin. Knowing the door is a no go, I make my way to the window and take a look down. Luckily, I'm only two stories up. It'll hurt a bit, but if I land it properly, I should be able to get away uninjured.

I push my bag out first and then I'm quick to follow it, just as I hear Tony's voice in the corridor. I sprint as fast as I can to the edge of the compound, not wanting to be seen. I can't believe this is my life again. On the run, but this time, I've got to watch my back from both sides, as it seems I can't even trust my own family.

Nat's POV:

Well, we have royally screwed up. When we finally get Tony to override FRIDAY to let us into Y/n's room, she's already gone. Her window open and my little sister fled. I go to the window in the hopes to see her, but there's nothing but darkness. I'm so stupid to have agreed to this. I'm so scared of the red room beating us that I couldn't even trust my own sister.

We made the worst decision when we decided to leave Y/n behind. We thought she was too young and would be a burden to us as we tried to escape. We did always plan on going back to her, but we go so caught up in proving our loyalty to SHIELD, that it kind of fell to the wayside. Once our loyalty was proven, we spent so much time on missions, we didn't have the chance to think about getting our sister back. It is and will forever be my greatest regret. Well, this moment may come a close second.

When Fury came to Yelena and me to say that he had information on our sister, I couldn't believe it. We hadn't long heard rumours about Y/n being killed in the red room. We mourned her, even though we knew that the rumours were unlikely true. But seeing the picture of her behind a bar, it was clearly her. I may not have seen her since she was 15, but she's not changed, she just looked older and more jaded.

We had no info on when she actually managed to escape. It was part of the reason why Fury was suspicious of her. Instead of trusting my gut and Y/n, we played along with him. Wanting to make sure there was no way that Y/n was under the influence of the red room.

It hurt Yelena and I when she ignored us. She was hurt and I can't blame her. But her words were as sharp as knives and each one hurt. It was so obvious we had let her down and although this was a mission. I was determined to make sure that she was safe, and I could do that best from New York. It was Fury's idea to bring in Wanda.

I had questioned it at first, I knew that Y/n falls hard. It was one thing to do what we were doing, but this felt like it was crossing a line. Wanda was happy to do it and Fury's mind was set. So, I watched as my sister fell in love with one of my closest friends. Knowing if she ever found out, it would break her heart. What took me by complete surprise, was the fact that it was obvious that Wanda felt the same. She too was falling for Y/n. That is how we came to be in an argument with Fury.

Wanda wanted to stop and tell Y/n the truth. She knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Y/n and she couldn't do that on a foundation of lies. But we still couldn't confirm Y/n wasn't working for the red room. Had I not let my desire to clear my ledger and the fear of what the red room could do, I would have seen how Y/n was just living her best life. She was free, something she had always dreamt of. Of course, she would have had no loyalty to the red room. Instead, I make her believe that I have no trust in her and that I never wanted her back in the first place. Which is a complete lie.

Once she moved into the compound, Yelena and I worked so hard to show her how sorry we were and how much we wanted her in our lives. Slowly but surely, she was coming around to us and we started to have a positive relationship. It was the happiest I had been since the red room. Being back with both of my sisters safe. I naively thought that if we could just take down the red room, Y/n would never need to know about the betrayal. Everything would have worked out. But that damn pipe at her work screwed everything up for us. Ok, that's a lie. We screwed everything up.

Seeing the hurt on Y/n's face caused me physical pain. I hated that once again I had let her down. But what hurt the most. What felt like I had just had my heart ripped out, was hearing that she was tortured and raped as a punishment for us escaping. We genuinely thought she would be safe. She was better than both of us and we knew she was an asset to them. We never thought they would go that far with her. But we completely got that wrong and I'll never forgive myself. She's my little sister, my pauchok and it's my fault that she is hurting.

Y/n had been gone for a week and we had no luck in tracing her. Tony and the others were not happy when they found out what we had been doing. They were non the wiser and had been fed the same line as Y/n. She was moving here to be safe from the red room. The only thing now is I think we've made the target on her back even bigger. She was helping us on mission, and it will have just put her back on their radar. Maybe we should have left her in London, she was safe there. I should never have listened to Fury.

Wanda was a mess. She shut herself away. When she saw the promise ring on Y/n's table, it broke her. Yelena and I would spend time with her but she'd just cry and plead for us to find Y/n so she could apologise. I don't think she thought she would fall for Y/n when this started and I'm sure she only agreed to do it because she feels like she still has to prove herself after everything that happened with Ultron. But here we are, the three of us completely broken and it's all our fault.

I spend my nights awake, wondering if we'll ever find her, and if we do, if she could ever forgive us. I wouldn't blame her. We don't deserve it. But I pray to a God that I don't believe in, that she would give us a slither of a chance and we'll do the rest.

I'm still spending every minute away from missions, looking for Y/n. I think I've found her in Reykjavik. But I don't want to go and risk losing her. I need to be 100% sure before I go in. So, I monitor the situation as best I can whilst following up on other leads. But that all stops with the receipt of a video. A video that makes my world completely stop.

I call the whole team into the briefing room, too scared to the play the video on my own. If this is what I think it is, I'm going to need the teams help. When I press play, I instantly hear a choked-up sob come from Wanda as a beaten and bloodied Y/n appears on the screen. Her hands are tied up and attached to a butcher's hook above her head. She's just in a sports bra and shorts, exposing all of the wounds that they have inflicted on her, both old and new.

I look to Yelena, and she has a look of horror on her face, which probably matches my own. That's our little sister and once again, she's being tortured at the hands of Dreykov because of us! "Hello Natalia and Yelena. We found your little sister here. We've been monitoring her since she started fighting on the wrong side. It was a surprise to us when we found her, she must have gotten too comfortable in her western ways!" The face of the man I loathed filled the screen and I wish I could reach through and strangle him, inflict all the pain that he was causing to Y/n.

"Wake her up!" He snaps, to one of his little guards. He grabs a taser and it jolts Y/n awake. "Welcome back Y/l/n." He sneers. Y/n's one eye, that isn't swollen shut, looks up at the camera. "Oh goody! A camera, who knew you were kinky!" She jokes. God, she's going to get herself killed! With her words, a swift punch is landed on Y/n's face. But she just spits out the blood and laughs. It seems to irritate Dreykov and he starts his interrogation. "Tell us, what is Fury's grand plan?" He snarls in Y/n's face. "Urgh, someone needs a breath mint!" Y/n scrunches up her face in disgust. That comment earns another swift punch to her gut, making us all finch at the cracking sound of a rib.

Dreykov carries on in asking her lots of question which he gets a sarcastic comment in return to. Which inevitably follows by some form of pain infliction. Each time, I flinch as Y/n tries so hard to not show the pain. Considering that we betrayed her, she's not giving anything away. She could easily answer all the questions she is being asked, but she doesn't. Once again just proving how wrong we got this. How wrong I go it!

I feel a hand clamp on to mine. I look to the source only to see Yelena, teary eyes fixed on the screen as our little sister gets a knife gash across her shoulder. I squeeze her hand back, trying to give her some form of reassurance, but I don't have much belief myself.

Wanda is sobbing as she watches her love being tortured in front of her, completely helpless to do anything. "Tony, can we do anything to trace this?" I ask, pleading in my head we can. "FRIDAY's working on it. Seems like they're not so smart and left a gateway through the telnet port. Hopefully through that we'll be able to triangulate a rough location." He explains. That seems to give me a sense of hope. Maybe we can find her.

After what seems like hours, Dreykov stops his attack and turns to the camera. "Natalia, you can see what we can do. If you want to save your sister, you know what you have to do." He threatens. Y/n's laugh breaks through the tension. This causes Dreykov's head to snap around to face her. "And what are you laughing at pauchok?" The use of the pet name has me fuming, the anger I thought was already at it's limit still growing.

"They're not there. They don't care." She sadly chuckles. The confusion on Dreykov's face doesn't go unnoticed. "You took a dead end. Wasted your time." She adds on, lifting her head to make direct eye contact with him. "You still don't get it do you. I wasn't lying all those years ago when you hung me to this same hook. I knew nothing about their escape. They didn't want a kid like me following them around." She explains and I can see as the realisation hits Dreykov. "But you fought with them. Lived with them." He questions back.

Once again, she laughs, but I can see the pain in her eyes as she speaks. "They may help the ordinary person, but they're no better than you, using people for their own gains. They just give you a comfy room whilst they do it." My head drops at her words. She's right, how can we preach about being the good guys when we've treated her like this. "My own sisters didn't trust me. Believed I was still working for you. I just wanted a NORMAL FUCKING LIFE!" She shouts, tears now falling down her bloodied cheeks.

"I was safe and happy. But they manipulated that. Used my weaknesses against me. I always used to think you'd never beat me because I still loved with everything I had. But now I see it, you're right. Love really is just for children. It gets you nothing but heartache and makes you weak and vulnerable." I look over to Wanda at this point and, if it's possible, I think I just saw her heart break even more.

That was something Yelena and I always admired about Y/n. Through all of the hell we went through, she still loved and cared for people. She never let them break that. The irony that her very family were the ones to actually make her give up.

"Tony, please say you have something. We don't have much time." I beg, knowing that Y/n's life is very much on the line right now. "I'm dispensable. No one really knows who I am. There is no one who will mourn me. But you've shown your hand. I'll die today but you won't win." I can't bare to hear her talk like she is. I'd mourn her. All those years we were apart, I felt like a part of me was missing. Then when we got her back, even when she was giving us the cold shoulder, I felt like I was whole again.

My eyes don't leave the screen as I see Dreykov step towards Y/n. "You always disappointed me. Always in the shadows of your sisters, never quite able to match their ability. And here you are, still disappointing me. You know what I do with lose ends?" He growls. "Cut them." And with those words he plunges a knife into Y/n's torso and twists it. "NO!" Yelena and I both shoot up from our seats. "You'll never win." Y/n whispers with a smirk, bloody starting to drip from her mouth.

"I've got a location! They're in Mexico. Suit up and in the Quinjet now!" Tony shouts, but I'm still staring at the screen. "She's no use to us now. She's not got long. Do as you please with her then leave." Dreykov coldly speaks as he wipes the blood from his hand. Forgetting the video, it carries on playing as his goons take turns in hitting Y/n like a punch bag. "Natasha, come on. We have to go now if we've got any chance of saving our mladshaya sestra." Yelena's voice pulls me back to the room, and I instantly run out to change and get ready to kill the son of a bitch.

The flight on the quinjet thankfully didn't take too long. Which was good as every minute counts. Who knows what they're doing to her right now. I just pray that she's still alive, clinging one. But I could see it, she had given up, accepted her fate of dying. "We need a plan for when we get there." Steve says looking to me. "Yelena, Wanda and I will go to Y/n. The rest of you, clear the building and get Dreykov. Then leave him for us." I order. Nice and simple.

Everyone agrees and as soon as the jet touches the floor, we are running out and heading in. There weren't many guards, clearly this was just a holding place. That works to our benefit. I pushed down every feeling I had to focus on getting to Y/n. I couldn't let my fear of losing her overpower me right now or I'd be no help to anyone. "Over here Natasha!" I hear Yelena shout. With one swift kick, I take out the last guard and rush over to her, Wanda not far behind. "It's locked, but I can hear those assholes in there!" She says as I grab the handle and try it for myself. "I'll deal with it." Wanda states, pushing us back out of the way.

Red whisps come from her hands and within seconds the door is off it's hinges. I gasp as I see Y/n's bloodied form. She's almost unrecognisable. The pool of blood under her body shows that she doesn't have much time. The guards in the room have a smug look on their faces as they turn to see us. "The boss will be so happy when we turn up will all three of them!" One of them sneers. With one swift movement the same red whisps wrap around his body and that smirk is soon replaced with fear.

"I saw you in the video. You enjoyed this the most." Wanda growls, her eyes completely red now as she stalks towards him. "I'll be sure to enjoy this, and with those words she snaps his neck, his body falling to the floor. Yelena and I fight off the three remaining men. As soon as the last body hits the floor I rush over to Y/n.

"Oh my God. What have they done to you?" I whisper. "Yelena, help me get her down." I order. We carefully lift her, but the movement jolts her awake and has her crying out in pain. "Y/n, it's Nat. We're here to take you home." I speak softly, slowly moving some of her hair out of her face. Yelena has taken off her jacket and is using it to try and stop the bleeding from the stab wound that Dreykov inflicted. "I don't have a home." Y/n struggles to say as her eyes flutter close. "No! Keep those eyes open pauchok. Yell at me, tell me you hate me, just don't go to sleep." I beg. Hearing how much she hates me would be better than this silence as she falls into unconsciousness.

"Let's get her to Bruce." I say, slipping my arms under her and lifting her into me. "We have Y/n. Bruce we're on our way to you." I shout into the comms before rushing out as quickly as we can. Yelena doesn't let up on the pressure to Y/n's stomach and Wanda's eyes only leave Y/n to open a door or take out the last few guards. "We have Dreykov." Tony announces through the comms. But right now, it's the last thing on my mind. I just want Y/n to be ok.

Bruce is waiting for us in the medical area on the jet. I gently place Y/n's body down onto the table and step back allowing Bruce and his team to get to work. My arms reach out to grasp around Yelena. I need her close to me and I know she does too. I notice Wanda looking lost, so I hold my hand out to her, which she easily takes. The three of us watch as Bruce fights to save Y/n. Minutes slowly ticking by.

"She's crashing! I need more blood, adrenaline and atropine." Bruce shouts his orders and the team react instantly. It feels like my own heart has stopped as we watch Bruce start compressions. With each jolt of electricity that is used to try to restart her heart, we collectively flinch. Tears are streaming down my eyes as I watch our sister slowly fade away and it's all our fault.

Bruce looks over to us and I see the pain in his own eyes. The short time Y/n had been with us, she had made close friends. Everyone loved her. I'm waiting for him to tell us that he's done all he can. That Y/n, my sister who I was meant to protect, is dead. He goes to open his mouth but it's like he second guesses what he wants to say. He simply turns on the spot and returns to working on Y/n.

He refuses to give up and I couldn't be more grateful when the heart monitor starts to beep. We all let out a collective sigh of relief. But it doesn't last long. "Aw, your pauchok is still alive. I guess I'll have to try harder to squish her next time!" I storm over to Dreykov who has his arms handcuffed behind his back. My fist connects with his smug face, knocking his body to the floor. Yelena is quickly by my side delivering a swift kick to his stomach.

"I'll get out. A prison won't hold me. I have friends in high places." He taunts from the floor. "That won't be a problem if we kill you." I snarl back to him. "You're not a killer anymore Natalia. You've done soft. The Avengers have tainted you." He's so sure of his words. Looking up I see the Avengers, my friends, my family, looking at me. Steve gives me a nod and turns his back, walking towards the jet. It's his silent way of telling me to do what I have to do. The others soon fall in line and it's just Yelena, Wanda and I left.

"You know. I hated my life in the red room. I've spent my whole time trying to make up for the horrible things I did whilst I was under your control. I lost sight of the fact that I gained two of the most important things to me whilst in that hell. My sisters." I tell him, connecting my boot to his face. "She'll never forgive you." He smirks through bloodied teeth. "You're right. I don't think she will. But I won't make the same mistake twice in not protecting her." I tell him, crouching down in front of him. "You two can go. You don't need to be a part of this." I say to Yelena and Wanda. But neither of them move.

"I want to watch this man die after everything he's done." Yelena hisses. "And I want to see him pay for the hurt he's caused to Y/n." Wanda adds on. "You're no different than us if you kill me." He speaks from the floor. I can see he's panicking now. "The only difference is, as much as I want to drag this out and cause you as much pain as possible. I won't. I'll make this quick." I stand up and take my gun from my holster, pointing it to his head. "Wait! No please..." I don't give him a chance before I pull the trigger. The bullet lodging in his skull.

Without giving him another look, I walk away, Yelena and Wanda following behind. When we get to the jet, we all go straight to Y/n. "She's stable for now, but she'll need surgery as soon as we're back at the compound. I've called Cho and she'll be waiting for us." Bruce informs us. "Thank you for saving her Bruce." Yelena says, taking Y/n's hand in her own. "She's not out of the woods yet. But she's strong." He replies, placing his hand on Yelena's shoulder.

The journey back to the compound is much calmer than when we left. The three of us never leave Y/n's side as we make the journey home. Just as Bruce said, Cho and her team are waiting for us and take Y/n straight to the medical wing. "You three should go and clean up. Y/n will be in surgery for a while. I promise I'll update you if anything changes before you get back." Tony tells us. None of us have the energy to fight and I can't bare to have Y/n's blood on my hands for much longer.

After Y/n's surgery, she falls into a coma. Her body had extensive injuries and it's a miracle that she is even alive. But we have no idea if or when she might wake up. Even if she does, she'll have a lot of recovery to go through. Between Yelena, Wanda and I, one of us is always with her. A lot of the time all three of us just sit with her, telling her how sorry we are, begging her to wake up. But nothing changes.

3 weeks. That's how long she's been led in this bed unconscious. Each day I'm losing hope that she'll ever wake up. But I won't give up on her. I have to be there for her as much as I can. Even if she has no clue that we're here. It's a Tuesday lunch time and the three of us are eating our salad around Y/n's bed. Filling her in on the latest stupid thing Tony did. Wanda suddenly grabs at her head in pain. "Are you ok Wands?" I ask, placing my hand on her back. "It's not me." She groans. I instantly turn my head to see Y/n's eyes flicking. "Y/n. pauchok? Can you hear us?" I say, gently running my hand through her hair.

I turn to tell Yelena to get Bruce but she's already out of the door calling for him. When her eyes eventually open, they dart around the room, trying to identify where she is. "You're ok Y/n. You're at the compound you're safe. Bruce is on his way." I try to reassure her. Having her awake, all I want to do is tell her how sorry I am and beg her for forgiveness. But I can't.

Wanda is by her side, her hand interlocked with Y/n's. But we all step back when Bruce enters the room and let him do his thing. She's not very responsive but Bruce looks somewhat happy. "She'll probably be in and out of consciousness for a while, but she seems to be doing ok. I'll do more test when she's more with it and I'll have a better idea at what we're dealing with." He explains before leaving us to it.

Over the next few hours, she goes in and out of consciousness, but we never leave her side. She becomes move communicative as she does, giving us the bare minimum to show she's awake. "Why are you here?" She asks when she's more with it. "I know you have no reason to believe or trust us, but we wanted to be here for you." She looks around the room at all of us but doesn't offer a response.

"Good to see you're awake. Would you mind giving us the room so I can run some tests?" Bruce asks us, taking Y/n's chart. We slip out of the room and stand by the window observing as Bruce carries out his checks. "Do you think she'll ever forgive us?" Yelena asks, the sadness evident in her voice. I sigh knowing I can't really give her the answer she wants. "I'm not sure she will. It was so hard to get her forgiveness when she came back in our lives. As much as that was real to us, it was based off of lies." I reply, giving no reassurance at all. But it doesn't pay to live off false hope.

Wanda stands there quietly, lost in her thoughts. "Are you ok?" I ask her, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I love her so much. I know it started as a mission, but I fell for her, hard. I can't bare to think that I've lost her. I know it's all on me, but I have to at least fight for her. You should do the same." She says before walking out and leaving us.

Over the next week, Y/n was starting to heal. Bruce had warned us that she would have to go through extensive physio to even have a chance at a full recovery. The beating gave her a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) and there is damage to her spin, which at the moment has resulted in paralysis from her waist down. Something Bruce is hopefully will be temporary with the help of physio.

Much to Y/n's dismay, we all stuck around. After what happened, Fury agreed to allow us all an extended leave of absence, only to be called upon for world saving missions. It meant that we could dedicate our time to helping Y/n recover. We are determined to show her that we're being completely honest and want to be there for her. I just don't know if she'll accept it.

Y/n's POV:

Well, that whole experience was hell. I thought I was going to die after Dreykov stabbed me. I had come to terms and accepted my fate. In my mind, I genuinely thought that I was alone. After everything that had happened with my sisters and Wanda, there was not one part of me that thought they would come for me. Especially as it risked opening them up to the risk of being capture by the red room again.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm so unbelievably hurt by it all, but they were there for me when I thought I was alone. But that doesn't make up for everything they did does it? It makes it harder to know what I'm feeling when they're around me all day being sickly sweet. When I heard they had all taken a leave of absence, I was shocked. Nat has always been so focused on making up for her wrongs, missions have become her life.

Seeing Wanda is the hardest. I still love her. That isn't going away any time soon, especially when I wake up to her, my hand clenched in hers, her beautiful red hair splayed over my legs. The pining looks she gives me don't help either. I know exactly how I feel, but I don't have a clue what is real and what is fake anymore. My trust radar is completely out of whack so I've gone completely on the defensive and built up my walls as high as I can.

On top of all this emotional stress, my body is broken. I'm stuck in a hospital bed having to rely on other people to help me do basic things. What makes it worse, is it's the people that I don't want to be around that are doing them. They've managed to scare off every nurse that Tony and Bruce have brought in to help and it's getting frustrating. Everything is just getting too much. I know even if I make ground in rehab, I'm not ever going to be back to where I was. I'll be no use to them for missions, so it won't be long until I'm back on my own anyway. I have sisters I can't trust and who don't seem to trust me and I woman I'm madly in love with but so incredibly hurt by. I just don't know what to do.

Sensing my frustration, Tony was able to convince the others to let him take me to my physio appointment. I was trying to get the use of my legs back. I can stand but walking is proving difficult. It was a relief to not have apologetic and pitying eyes on me the whole session. "Come on Y/n, you've got this. Just one step that's all." The physio, Mark, encourages. I frown as I have failed at every attempt to do this today.

I have a sheen of sweat on my forehead as I hold my body weight up on the two support poles beside me. If Dreykov could see me now, he'd laugh at what he had turned me into. I shake my head, trying to fight off the intrusive thoughts. I manage to get my leg to move forward in an awkward step, but I smile as it's the furthest I've got so far. "Amazing work Y/n!" Tony encourages me from the side. I place my foot down but I get the weight wrong and I'm tumbling to the floor, Tony's arms just catching my head before it could bounce off the padded base.

"You did great today Y/n. Let's get you up and try again." Mark says in an annoyingly enthusiastic voice. "I think she needs a rest." Tony suggests, already seeing my anger. "But she's so close, just one more try...." "No." I growl lowly. "No?" He questions me. "I can't do this anymore! I'm just useless! Leave me alone! Just get out!" I yell, tears forming in my eyes. Mark doesn't need telling twice as she scurries out of the room. But Tony doesn't listen to me. He just sits there holding me as I'm still in a heap on the floor.

My chest is heaving as I breathe heavily from the anger and effort I had put into today. "Talk to me." Tony says softly. "I look between his eyes, my own full of tears. I don't see pity. I just see care. "I'm scared." I admit quietly, afraid of my own voice. Tony doesn't respond, he just lets me reach the words I need in my own time. "I know I'll never be back to how I was. Which means when I leave here, I can't guarantee my safety. Before when I was on my own, I knew I could fight out of most situations. But now I'll be hindered. Dreykov may be dead, but there will be others in his place and my head will still have a bounty on it." I express.

He frowns as I talk but lets me finish. "Why would you leave here?" He questions a little surprised. "I can't bring anything to the team. I know the only reason that you let me stay before was because you were trying to work out if you could trust me enough to be in this team. As soon as my recovery is done, I'll have to leave." I reply but he just scoffs. "You have value without your fighting skills. Do you know how much work you help me do in the last 8 months? You'd be such an asset for me in my lab. But even if you didn't want to do that and just work in a bar. I pay for this place, and I'll decide who lives here and you're one of them. You're not going anywhere unless it's because you want to." He tells me firmly.

I smile at him, appreciating his support. "But I know that's only half the issue Y/n. The other three have refused to leave your side these last few weeks. I sigh, knowing ultimately the main reason for this conflict in my head. "I learnt to trust and forgive them again after everything they did when they left the red room. I can't be angry at them for leaving for a better life." I admit and he nods. "But I feel betrayed that everything was a mission to them these last few months. Did they actually want me to be back in their lives? Was I still an inconvenience to them? Then there's the whole Wanda situation. I don't even know if what she felt for me was real. And that terrifies me. Because I gave everything to her, I was vulnerable, and my walls were completely down. But now? Now I feel like that love was just used and abused all for SHIELD's benefit."

Saying this all out loud is actually helping. I feel a weight lifting off my chest sharing with someone, that I do actually trust, how I'm really feeling. "Y/n. I know what they did was inexcusable. But I can tell you now that Nat and Yelena were so excited for you to come to New York. I've never seen Nat like it before. She was soft. When we were waiting for your arrival, they couldn't sit still. They had spent time trying to make sure you had everything you'd need in your room. It wasn't just obligation." I think over his words, still unsure how it makes me feel.

"And Wanda. That girl has never been able to hide her feelings. The amount of times I would catch her just staring at you with eyes full of love, a smile on her face. You could be doing the simplest of things and she would be there watching you as if you were hanging the moon and the stars." He smirks at me as he remembers. "But she, all of them, hurt me." I state and he nods. "I know. I'm not saying forgive them. I just wanted you to know, that yes, maybe this was all a mission, but I truly believe that they care and love you. Maybe it'll help you get the closure you'll need."

I instantly pull Tony into a hug, even in our awkward position on the floor. He hugs back within a heartbeat and chuckles. "You're already getting your strength back I see." He says, pretending to choke. "Sorry." I say, letting go of my death grip. He helps me up off the floor and takes me back into the hospital room.

I get about 20 minutes of peace before two assassins darken my doorway. "Can we come in?" They ask. "You've never asked permission before." I snap back to them. "We realise that we've been a bit over the top these last few days and weeks." Nat admits shyly. It's very unusual to see her like this, the confidence drained from her. I nod and they both enter, taking a seat to the side of my bed. "How was physio?" Yelena asks when an awkward silence fills the room. "Ok. I took a step..." "That's great!" Nat interrupted but I shook my head. "Then fell on my ass." I add on and see them both frown.

"I told you I didn't like that, Mark. He's a fraud." Yelena huffs to Nat. "He's a physio Yelena, he's just trying to help." Nat defends. "Then why did our sister end up on the floor?!" Yelena shoots right back. I find it quite amusing seeing their little back and forth. It used to entertain me greatly back in the red room. It was some of the only humour I got.

After their bickering ends, Nat has been able to convince Yelena to not kick Mark's ass. "Did you just come in here to argue or was there something else you wanted?" I say when they finally stop their fight. The two of them look between each other and sit up straighter. "We would like to talk. But we'd also appreciate if you would let us finish before you say anything." Nat answers. I sigh but wave my hand for them to continue.

"I'm, we're both so sorry. I know that's not enough. We have let you down and betrayed you twice now. There are no excuses for how we acted this time around. But please know that we are both so happy that you are back in our lives. When Fury told us that he found you, we were so happy. We had heard rumours you were dead and that broke us because we thought we missed our chance to make things right. But when we got the chance to do that, we royally fucked up." Nat starts, Yelena nodding along the whole time.

"We have always trusted you. Although it may not seem like it. We were scared we'd lose you and wanted to do everything in our power to keep you safe and with us. So, we listened to Fury and agreed to this stupid mission. But it back fired and you ended up getting more hurt than either of us thought possible." Yelena now takes her turn to speak. I've never seen her talk with such sincerity before. No sarcasm or snarky comments.

"You died. We watch you die and then watched as Bruce fought so hard to bring you back to us. It was all our fault, if we had just been honest from the start, you'd be fine now. Not having to learn to walk and do basic things all over again." Nat takes a breath before looking at Yelena, who gives her a sad nod. "We know that you probably won't be able to forgive us and, as much as it hurts, we're ok with that. We just wanted you to know, that it was real to us. All of it." She finished her little speech and I let the words sink in.

They both give me a smile and stand up to leave. I watch as they get closer to the door. I'm sure they're walking slowly, hoping I call after them. "Oh, I'm going to regret this." I mumble to myself. "Wait!" I call after them. They both spin around to face me again. Expectant looks on their faces. "You're right. I'm not sure if I can forgive you. Not easily anyway." Their faces drop at my words, and I notice Yelena reach out to Nat's hand, seeking comfort. "You know, I worshipped the ground you walked on when we were in the red room. I would go to bed every night and dream of what we'd be like when we would finally escape and be free. This is far from that dream." I share and they both nod.

"I'm willing to try to, you know, maybe work things out." I say almost at a whisper. Both eyes suddenly lock on to me, but I can't meet theirs. "But there can't be anymore lies and you need to be patient with me. I don't think we can fall back to how we were." I explain, finally lifting my head to see my two sisters, who's eyes have tears brimming in them. "Really?" Nat whispers and I nod. "oh pauchok. I promise, we'll do everything you ask. We won't fuck this up this time." She replies through a cry.

"Can we hug you?" Yelena asks timidly. I nod hesitantly, but the moment both of them wrap their arms around me, I feel safe again. There is a part of me that hates that I feel like that so easily. I still want to be mad and angry at them. But I'll take this moment, this feeling. It's a long way, but I hope maybe we can get some resemblance of the relationship we used to have.

The next few days are like the others, though the tension with my sisters is a little less. I thought that after our talk they would be back to working and backing off a little. But they don't, they promised me there were here until I was fully recovered, and they were sticking by it but promised to respect my boundaries. I really appreciated it.

I had noticed that Wanda had been around less. I thought it wouldn't bother me, but I guess I found comfort in her presence. But I can't blame her, I haven't been the nicest person to anyone recently, and regardless of what happened between us, it's no excuse for me to be a dick.

Today I was having a rough day. Physio was hard, although I'm getting a couple of steps at a time now, the frustration that it's not progressing quicker really hindered me today. I fell, a lot, and I'm hurting. My mood is low and I'm really just not in the mood to see anyone. But tonight, my sisters decided they didn't want to respect my boundaries.

"Come on! Up in the chair, you're getting out of this room and getting some fresh air." Nat orders with a big smile on her face whilst Yelena is fighting with me to put a coat on. "I'm quite comfortable in here. Please just take your cheeriness away from my dark cloud today!" I complain. Both of them just laugh at me. "Oh, mladshaya sestra. Let us help to cheer you up." Nat cooed. I reluctantly agree, knowing that it'll be easier than fighting. Besides, I've barely been outside since I ended up in the medical wing.

They help me up into my chair and roll me to the small lake in the grounds of the compound. As I get closer, I see a familiar red head, standing awkwardly, picking at the skin around her finger nails. It's then I notice the picnic blanket and food dotted around. "Well, have a nice evening." Yelena says, letting go of my chair, which carries on rolling as it's on a slope. "Hey, what?! Wait!" I call after them. "You didn't need to push her." Nat scolds as they run off. "What, the witch will catch her." I hear Yelena defend.

And she's right. As I turn around to stop the chair, Wanda is already there, her hands on the arm rest to stop me going any further. "Hi." She squeaks when our eyes meet. "What's this?" I ask, pointing towards the little set up. She rolls me closer and offers to help me out of the chair, still not offering an explanation. I raise my eyebrow at her not letting her help until I get some idea of why we're here. "Can you please just sit with me, and I'll explain?" She pleads. Against my better judgement I agree.

She helps to lift me out of the chair and onto the blanket. She is then quickly throwing another over my lap to keep me warm. My eyes are firmly on the ground, embarrassed that I still need help to even get in and out of this damn chair. "You shouldn't be ashamed of it." Wanda's voice breaks through my thoughts. "It's not weak to need help." She adds on. I sigh and look at her. "I'm sure you didn't bring me here to talk about my wheelchair." I say, a hint of frustration in my voice.

She quickly shakes her head. "I love you." She blurts out and it takes me by surprise. I can tell by her body language there is no lies, but I still find it hard to believe. "Yes, it started as a mission, but it very quickly stopped being one for me. All the feelings I had, have, for you are real. I never should have agreed to the mission in the first place, but I was desperate to prove myself to Fury. I didn't even stop to think about feelings through it all. But once I started to fall for you, it was all I could think about."

She rambles on as all her feelings come tumbling out. "I hated lying to you. I should have ignored Fury and just told you the truth. I know that you still probably would have left me, but at least I could have explained it all to you. I'm so sorry Y/n. I really am, I'll regret what I did for the rest of my life." She's crying as she speaks "I wouldn't have left you." I say quietly. "What?" She questions. "If you had told me. I would have been really mad, but I wouldn't have left you." I tell her but that seems to make things worse. I guess it just reiterated for her that she made the wrong decision.

"But you have to understand how hard it is to trust what you're saying right now." I say with more confidence. "I do. But let me show you. Let me show you that everything I felt was real. You can do with it as you please, but at least you'll know the truth." She suggests. I think for a moment before nodding. She raises her hand to my head and red whisps appear before my vision is clouded. I see flashes of all the times that we're together and how she was feeling. It's almost overwhelming how much love she feels towards me. She also shows me the sorrow and pain she felt when I was gone. As my vision starts to return, she's looking at me with tears falling down her face.

"You don't have to forgive me or take me back. I just had to let you know that it was all true. I couldn't bare you thinking that I manipulated it in anyway." I really appreciate her doing that. It helps to bring me the closure that I need. "I'm not sure what to do with this." I admit and she scootches forward a little and rests her hand on mine. "You don't have to do anything. But if you don't push me away, I'd like to try and make things up to you. Maybe we can get back to being friends at least. Maybe one day you might find it in you to forgive me." She replies. "But for now. Just sit and enjoy this picnic with me?" She says but it comes out as a question. I nod and reach out for the plate on the blanket. It's a nice evening and there is no pressure.

It takes time, but I can feel the relationships between my sisters and Wanda starting to mend. They stick by my side through my recovery, along with Tony, and I didn't realise how much I needed that. All of their actions went to show how much they care for me.

A year after the kidnapping, I'm finally up and walking, with the help of walking sticks, but I'm not reliant on the wheelchair anymore. I'm helping Tony out in his lab, as he suggested, and I'm really enjoying it. Problem solving and building tech that helps people is really rewarding to me.

Nat and Yelena are slowly starting to go back on missions but are around a lot more. It took me a while, but I think I'm finally there in trusting and forgiving them. I feel like I have my sisters back. Along with it I gained a family with the Avengers. Something I never thought that I would get.

And Wanda you ask? Well, our friendship really started to flourish and became really important to me. But tonight, I think that friendship could be ruined. But in all the best possible ways as we're going out on our first official date.

[dawnoftime22]

"...because it feels like it will."

| W.M ( -> N.R )

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 4

Chapter Warnings: Staying underwater in a bathtub for a couple seconds, relationship problems, avoidance, distancing, alcohol, getting drunk.

Summary: Everything in your world starts to fall apart.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 5.1k

Category: Angst. Full on aaaaangst.

A/N: this was...a lot. and unlike anything I've written before, but hooooo! I love how it turned out. I was a little late, but I hope you enjoy it <3

| Started on 19/01/2024, 2:28 PM |

| Finished on 05/02/2024, 8:18 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 3 Chapter 5 ->

"When did your heart stop beating as it once used to for me?"

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Light broke through the window, dawn visiting the sky with the sun. The bed was empty of either of your bodies. Dust could be seen floating around in the sunlight that came in the room.

You were up and about, already having finished showering and wearing your clothes. Wanda on the other hand, had gotten out the house even before you awoke.

Your feet takes you to the kitchen, the dim lighting adding nothing but only sleepiness to your still low energy. Even though you got your rest and showered.

You open the pantry to grab two slices of bread, to then put in the toaster after making sure the timer was set right. The watch on your wrist tells that it was 7:43 AM. You still had time.

As you waited for your bread to toast, you went to make a drink in your mug. Your thoughts drift to the brunette as you do so, not being able to help it.

Wanda had slowly started to not be present. You could say it's work, you could say she's busy or tired, but it was starting to be unavoidable to think about.

With you starting up work again, it being a weekday once more, you weren't sure if you were glad or not. It'll either be a distraction to not thinking about her at all, or more time alone to yourself to only be thinking about her.

A sigh leaves your mouth and you gently shake your head, trying to rid the endless thoughts in your head. Your hands cup the freshly made drink held within the warm mug, letting it sit on the cold marble counters.

Soon enough, your bread pops up from the toaster, and it was nearly perfect aside from the slightly lesser toasted parts. You probably need a new toaster.

Not caring much about it though, you grab a plate and place it on there, making your sandwiches easily for a morning breakfast. The minutes were going by a little quicker with every second you spent eating, and honestly, time was starting to look like its going against you today.

After you rush to finish the last few bites and put the plate in the sink along with your now empty mug, you go to the front door, phone and keys already in your pockets.

The drive to your workplace was a blur, your eyes were focused on the roads and your mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of everything and nothing as you tried to distract yourself with music.

You arrived soon enough and walk through the building, passing by co-workers, and many other people you didn't take mind to put a name to or even know.

Your work was pretty boring, sitting down at a desk with a plastic chair-- Yes, plastic, as there weren't any that were comfortable around the building except for the one in the boss's office.

The only thing that wasn't boring with it was being able to fiddle around with some spotlights and having fun with the colors. Your fingers move around the control board as you set everything up.

As time went by, you finished it up and let the lights do whatever you set them to do. Now, you had a choice to either sit and do something else, or do paperwork.

Although that sounded awful, you went to work on them instead, not wanting to be sore from sitting in the same position for the next few hours on your chair watching whatever show you downloaded on your phone while working on the lights.

The time went by, and you finished up most of it all, until lunch came by and it was time to get a break. You get up from your chair and leave the pen you were holding in your hand to lay upon the papers, going off in search for some food.

You made sure your phone was still in your pocket as you made your way out, your car still waiting for you outside. But, seeing as the place was close, you could just walk there. The sun shone down on you, the heat obvious both from your body warming up, and the bright yellow sunlight across the concrete sidewalk and other buildings.

After you went in the nearby café, you started cooling down a bit, the ac within it easily helping you out. The place was starting to get packed, but you've always had a small little corner you're able to keep for yourself every lunch break.

You go up to the front counter, ordering a few things before you went to the empty table. Your order number was a bit far, but you didn't mind it as you stared out the window. Lucky the sun didn't filter in through the glass here, seeing as it was behind the building.

Your mind then drifted off, stuck on a certain thought ever since you saw the clock strike lunch time. You bit down on your bottom lip and your hand reached in your pocket to grab your phone.

As your fingers unlock it and go through the apps to then scroll in your contacts list, your mind reeled with every possible thing that could happen. You probably shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But it's worth a try.

Your thumb hovers over her name for a short while, but you give in and tap on the contact, giving in. It switches to calling mode, and you put your phone to your ear, anticipation making your heart beat faster.

The dialing tone keeps sounding out, and you were starting to regret it, but hope lead on with every beep. You hoped it doesn't go to voicemail. And it doesn't.

"Hello?" Her voice comes through the phone clearly, and you let go of a breath you've been holding quietly, looking out the window, so your eyes don't just focus on the plain table. You gather your thoughts, turning them into words.

"Hey. Um, you have lunchtime free, right?" You ask, your eyes moving to the orders list. Your number was going up, but you had enough time to keep talking with her.

"I do...Why?" She asks, as if skeptical of something. Had she forgotten about lunch break? You didn't let the curious thought linger and instead fiddle with the paper in your hand of your order number.

"I was just...wondering, because I do, and well, do you wanna have lunch together?" You say casually, expecting a denial with the many times she has before.

"Sure. Sure, that sounds good." She says, and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. But your heart jumps at the agreement.

"Okay. I'll maybe..." You pause for a second, looking down at the time on your watch. It showed 1:15 PM. "...see you at 1:20 PM?"

"I can be there by 1:30 PM." Her voice elongates some words, probably also checking her own watch as she said it. You smile, happy with her answer nonetheless.

"Okay. See you here." You say quietly, trying your best to keep your cool, like anyone else in the café. Although, they're probably pretty calm at the moment and not getting excited about something.

"See you." She didn't say anything else, and all you heard after was an end call tone. You pull your phone away from your ear, and right when you do, you notice the order list moving to your number.

You stood up, and went to grab it, thanking the cashier. When you sat back, you took a sip of your drink, but nothing more, thinking of waiting for Wanda.

As you waited, and waited, checking the time, your meal was starting to get cold and you were getting hungry. You took a couple bites here and there, enjoying your lunch.

Soon enough it was now getting to 2:20 PM. Your lunch break was ending soon, and you finished up the last of it, but not with someone you were hoping to spend it with. You check your phone again, in case you had somehow missed something even with the past few minutes you looked.

hey, are you coming?

if you have to cancel that's okay, just say it

Sent at 2:00 PM.

Wanda?

Sent at 2:14 PM.

No reply. Your hope was running short, and the café was starting to empty out. You take another look at the empty seat in front of you, then to the window's view of the roads outside. There was no sign of the brunette you much so keep precious.

You sigh, and get up, holding your phone tightly in your hands before storing it back in your pocket. It wasn't much. She was starting to deny spending lunchtime with you, and today was the first in a while she accepted. But it's worse when you find some hope and it escapes from your hands.

You put on your headphones, playing some music as you walked back, knowing the rest of the day you had to just finish up work. Hours and hours passed by and you had to stretch so you wouldn't get sore. But you made it through the end. You always do. The sun was setting as you collected your stuff and exited the building, going to your car.

You soon enough get home, having driven on auto-pilot, which was quite dangerous, but you've made it back unscathed. Or, well, physically. Mentally? You weren't doing so well.

The lock of the front door clicks with the movement of your hands, that then glide off to let your legs be free of your shoes. The place was quiet. A usual greeting whenever you'd come home, but it's gotten quieter, an in between from that horrid silence and just the atmospheric quietness. A void that seemed to swallow you up whole within your mind, replacing the silence.

You sigh heavily, walking to the bedroom. Nothing else was in your mind to do but just to take a shower. Although with how draining a shower in of itself sounded to be, you had decided with another version; the bath.

Your bag and jacket was taken off and thrown gently on the bed as you went to search for some comfortable clothes in the closet. Shirt, another shirt, jacket...Wanda's jacket, hoodie, collared shirt, and then your hand lands on a comfy oversized shirt you'd wear at home.

Sweatpants was swiped off from another part of the closet and put on the bed, ready for you get into after you were done. You go into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it, even though no one else was in the house. Habit, you supposed. Plus, safety.

You turn on the faucet at the bathtub, letting the water run hastily down. You made sure the drain hole was closed and the temperature was just right before turning it off, peeling off your clothes to then carefully climb in the tub.

The warm water eased your tense muscles, the gentle small ripples visiting your skin as you moved to get comfortable. The bathtub was cold as you placed your hands on the sides, a big range in the temperature difference with the water.

Sounds of water tapping from the sink or showerhead every now and then echoes, reverberating off the walls. It was nice. Something to keep you company here and there even if your mind was hazy with thoughts.

Your eyes focus on a part of the wall somewhere in the bathroom, spacing off. You try not to do it for too long, knowing you'll only dig yourself a digger hole with thinking. Slowly, you take a deep breath in and sink into the bathtub, holding your breath in the water while bubbles went to surface.

You can feel the pressure heavy on your head. The water devouring you as you stayed down. After a few seconds though, you pull yourself back up, letting air flow back into your lungs and wiping your hair off your face.

It made you feel more alive, oddly enough, for something that's dangerous. Rather concerning if you thought about it more, but you brush it off and started to do more things, such as cleaning yourself off with some soap, the familiar scent filling the bathroom and making your exhausted soul relax just for a while.

Soon enough, you get out and dry yourself up, making sure the bathtub was drained of any water too. The cold air that visits you when you step out the bathroom, although even with a towel wrapped around your body, still stings your skin.

Your legs take you over to the bed, your hands moving on their own as you wore your clothes, the fabric covering your body and warming you right up easily.

Once you got done, you were right about to drop onto the bed, but then you look around the empty room. You end up staring at the flowers you got her in the corner of the room, sitting atop her desk. You clench your jaw slightly, and walk over to it. But you didn't do anything, really. Only your hand went up to gently touch the soft petals. You take in a deep breath before letting it go, your hand going into a fist as you let out your breath.

You turn away from it and walk back to the bed, shaking your head at your own movements and thoughts. You sat on the bed, the sheets soft on your hand. You then slowly drop down to lay your back against the mattress, your eyes looking up at the blank ceiling while your legs dangles off the edge of the bed.

With the seconds that go by, just as you were about to finally move to the pillows and lay comfortably, your phone dings with a notification. Your heart skipped a beat, and you freeze, a dreading feeling overcoming you.

You think it over and hesitate, not wanting to feel any worse, but having a gnawing feeling to check. But then you prop yourself up with your hands and grab your phone, the screen lighting up with your lockscreen as you clicked the power button.

The time shows up and a few other notifications, but one thing stood out to you most. A message. By who? Well, of course the one that's been on your mind for all of today. Your heartrate speeds up and you read the message.

Hey, sorry, I forgot to tell you I couldn't make it.

I'll try to make it home before you sleep though. Love you.

Sent at 7:34 PM.

Your eyes falter with any spark of hope you had left, and you click the power button once more, turning your phone off and slightly dropping it on the bed, it making a soft thump against the soft mattress. Your phone was fine and safe with the drop, but your heart surely wasn't.

Your throat swells up, and you hold your tongue against your teeth, trying everything within you not to let it get to you, but you slide off the bed and go to sit on the floor, your back resting against the side of the bed now.

A sniffle comes from you and your eyes well up with tears. You didn't want to cry. But with everything-- your lungs do a sharp intake of breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, pulling your legs up to your chest and hugging your legs with your arms.

Your tears soon leak from your eyes, down to your cheeks and sobs left your mouth. God, of course you were crying. It was just a small thing. Or well, that's what your mind wants you to think. She's never left you waiting just like that.

A few more couple of minutes went by, with you letting out your built up feelings until you calm down a little more. You wipe away the mixed tears that were both from your nose and your eyes, both the skin of your hand and your arm filled with it.

They dried off though as you pulled yourself up off the floor and got back on the bed, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. So many muscles working to keep yourself moving, even though they got a rest in the bathtub, they were kept going even after.

But now, you relax a bit, shuffling to lay your head on the pillow. It was cold, so you go to grab the covers first and pull it over you. You curl up under them, your nose red from the crying. But your body got to rest as your once heavy breaths went softer with every minute.

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The next day you once more awoke to empty sheets. Again and again. You were starting to question what exactly was happening, because it all seemed to be something rather than just your mind playing tricks on you.

Nothing much happened in the day. You worked at home, doing stuff on your laptop. Once you were done, you laid around relaxing while all at the same time being anxious. While the sun went down, the skies got cloudy, and just as the moon started to glow brightly, rain starts pouring down.

It was getting cozy, with the dim lighting. You watched a show on the tv, but wasn't really waiting on much, just scared of what you'll have to soon face.

As an hour or two go by with you sitting on the couch, you start to get sleepy, your eyes heavy. But right as you shut off the tv and was about to get up, you hear keys clinking near the front door.

You kept your place on the couch, your eyes keeping watch of it, but when you hear a struggle with the keys going in and not unlocking, you stand up, going to go open it for her.

You turn the lock and open it, behind it revealing Wanda who had seemed like she just got up from crouching to grab her keys.

"Hi." She says with a small laugh, smiling sheepishly as she held her keys between her fingers, showing them to you. "Slippery hands."

You didn't react much, only your lips moved to form a straight line as you stepped aside to let her in. She goes in and kicks off her shoes while you closed the door behind her, locking it.

As Wanda went to take off her jacket too, you walk more to her front, your mind only focused on what had happened yesterday.

"You didn't show up yesterday," you say in a whisper, the words coming out of your mouth without much thought. She turns her head to look at you, her mouth open slightly as she took in a breath in surprise but as if moving to say something.

"I got caught up in doing stuff and I...forgot." She puts her keys in her pockets, turning fully to you. That was when she saw your face, how different you seemed than the soft look you'd usually look at her with.

"We had lunch break, Wands." The nickname slipped from your mouth easily, especially in the situation of the confrontation. Your voice was gentle, but stern, and full of emotion.

"I know, but so much is going on and..." she trails off as she looks away from you, and you had hoped she'll go on, but instead she purses her lips and her eyes travel back to you, a breath of a sigh leaving her mouth.

"Come on, it's going to be New Year's soon." Your eyes widen a bit at the mention, having forgotten it was going to be the start of a new year from the weeks you've been lost in. She puts her hands up as if to gesture before she reaches in a bag she had brought home, grabbing something.

"I got us wine." She pulls out the bottle of wine, a small smile playing on her lips as she raises her eyebrows. Surprise was on your face before you furrow your eyebrows, seeing where she was going with this.

"Right...but we should really talk." You say, your eyes following her movement as she walked off to the kitchen, grabbing some wine glasses and popping open the wine.

"Soon, Y/N," she said sternly herself, focused on pouring the drink down in the glasses as you made your way to where she stood near the kitchen island.

"Now, are we going to party or are you going to ruin it?" She finishes up, grabbing a glass full and holding it out for you, her face obvious with expecting you to go with the first choice.

Your eyes flicker from her and the glass, before lingering on the glass. A breath leaves your body through your nose gently and your hand impulsively reaches up to grab it. It was a moment of weakness and you took it.

She smiles and hums, grabbing her own glass and taking a sip. You too, although you took a bit more than she did. The liquid easily ran down your throat, although burning slightly.

"You know what I think we should do?" She sounded out, her eyes looking towards the watch, counting down the hours until New Year's came around. You follow her gaze, and there was around two hours left.

You hum in question, looking back at her. She smiled wider and goes to the drawers nearby, opening one. You gazed curiously at her, wondering what exactly she was up to.

"We should play some Uno." She holds up the box that held the cards, and your eyebrows rose, but finally your lips raise up too slightly.

She goes over to the living room, sitting down on the couch and setting up the cards. You follow behind her, sitting on the bean bag nearby the couch as you wait for your set of cards.

The two of you start the game, it starting off slow until it moved to a few Unos and fails. You had one too many reds now, and really you were starting to hate the color.

She calls out Uno, and you had two cards left. You hoped she didn't have a yellow, seeing as she's been going with your last few reds and blues, but not a yellow.

As it was her turn, she cheers and whoops, throwing her last card onto the pile of uno cards you two played. It was a wild card.

"I won!!" She says, putting her hands in the air, and you had your mouth open in shock, looking at her with an unbelievable expression.

"That's not fair! You're using a wild card." You put your hand out, gesturing towards it. Sure you've seen this strategy before, and even used it yourself, but it definitely frustrated you most times.

"It is fair!" She laughs, drinking more from her glass and finishing the last drop of wine in it, leaving it back on the coffee table next to the stack of cards.

"Nope!" You say, grabbing the pile of Uno cards and gathering them, putting them together properly once more for another match.

"Is!" She exclaims with a smile and a tilt of her head, watching you shuffle the cards when you got them all.

Soon after a couple more rounds, and a couple more wine refills, the two of you get drunker as time inched to New Year's, your happiness only there because the alcohol riled you up.

"How'd we end up on the floor, anyway?" She asks, laughing, and her words slurring as you had your feet in her lap, your back laid on the floor while hers was against the couch.

"Because we are extremely drunk. That's how." You say through a giggle, putting up your index finger as if to make a point.

You moved to sit up and shuffle to sit beside her instead of laying down, her gaze focused on the time. You smile, looking at her lovestruck, although drunk. You then whisper, "I love you."

But she only went with, "Andddd...Happy New Year's!!" She puts her hands up and turns to you, going in to kiss you on your lips. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but you take it.

That was how that night turned out. You both went on, and danced, and did other things until you fell asleep. The morning was ruined with a horrid hangover, but you managed, somehow. Wanda just spent her day by going with sleeping longer.

And then, in the span of months, the relationship you built so carefully with love and passion, through four months, started to fall down. All along with your heart. Slowly. Oh, so slowly.

You started to only see her in the middle of the nights, whenever the bed dips and you wake up just slightly. Most times she wouldn't even bother to go close to you and pull you close. Just keeping her distance.

On some random day, you decide to break and pick up your phone, being unable to deal with any of it anymore.

You go through the grueling process of going to your contacts and searching her up once more, your fingers not hesitating to tap on the call button.

And as you wait, you hear the calling noise sound out. That sickening. Call tone. But after just a few more, she picks up.

"Hello?" She says, and you could hear a bit of her sokovian accent coming out. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. She only did that when she was angry or something, but you went on with your plan.

"Wanda, we need to talk." You say, although slightly calmly, you were certainly trying your best to keep yourself grounded than splutter out all the words and questions in your head.

"Yeah?" She says in a breath, and you can hear something in the background. You assume she dropped something, because it sounded like clutter.

"Why are you being so distant lately?" You slowly ask, and she went silent. It left you sitting in your thoughts as to what exactly she was doing on the other side of the call.

Probably thinking about her next words. Probably 'busy with work,' probably this, probably that. Then you hear her take in a breath.

"...I think we need to take a break." She says suddenly. You were expecting it. Not that sentence, and certainly not that straightforward. You were expecting her to say, 'We need to break up.' But your mouth would be open slightly either way.

This was happening on a phone call. Of all the times you could be together, and she decides to do it over the phone. Sure, you rang her up, but it was to go in the direction of communication, not to do something a little extreme.

"What? Wanda, what we need least of all is a break. Honestly, we need more time together than less." You say in disbelief and scoff, knowing you had spent less time than you ever had the start of last year.

"Communication. We need that. Please, we've been through this before." Your voice came out more gently, and a little shakily, your thoughts having gone to the past but not lingering.

"I tried spending time with you. It's just...I don't know, Y/N." She said in frustration, and your eyes roll slightly then move around the room, looking at every furniture here as you tried to make sense of the situation and find more words to say to her.

"What do you mean, you 'don't know'??" You question. She was either just as confused of her emotions or feelings just as you were or, she was holding something back.

"I love you, you know that. But I...don't think we can work right now." She said urgently at first before transitioning to a slower pace in her talking. Your eyes well up with tears, and it took everything in you not to straight up hang up the phone. You had to deal with this even through the tears while talking to her. You took a deep breath.

"Talk, Wanda." You say, and she goes quiet once more. This time, perhaps out of guilt. The silence was deafening, and you had nothing to focus on except for the hardwood flooring and the carpet.

"I...think I'm falling out of love with you." At that, your heart drops. Her voice was shaky too, and full of emotions. Way more than you've ever heard for the past few days.

"What...?" The word comes out in a breath from your mouth. It didn't feel real. This didn't feel real. Your heart didn't even feel like it was beating anymore. Was this one of your nightmares? Well, it's a real one, that's for sure, with the texture of the couch felt against the skin of your hands.

"I don't wanna fight with you and...you're making no sense." You look up and sniffle, trying your best not to let yourself cry while still on the call. Wanda was silent.

"But okay. If that's what you really want." You nod continuiously, your voice obvious in sounding like you're about to tear up. And you were.

"I'll see you later, Y/N." She said. You didn't even get the chance to hang up, the ending tone sounding out and echoing. The silence wasn't a welcome back at all. A welcome to hell? Maybe.

You sat with your shoulders slumping, processing what had just happened, and you finally break, crying once again.

The rest of the day was filled with dread and like your heart was getting beat and shattered to a million peaces. You had retreated to the comfort of your bed, laying in it and letting your tears stain the pillow you laid your head on.

You slept all alone.

But you'd do it over and over again for her. Just because you believed it'll pass with time. Just because...you didn't want to let go yet. Just a little longer.

You only saw her once in december. And it wasn't even really december anymore, it was new year's day. Plans that started every now and then, though rare, was getting cancelled.

She seemed like she was getting sick to her stomach every time she met you face to face once more. Either that or your mind was tricking you.

Your body subconsciously moved every now and then, searching for the warmth of another body next to you, but there wasn't one, and your body had found your own warmth by curling up instead.

end of chapter 4. </3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 3 Chapter 5 ->

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[octuscle]

hey support, I need some help. So I work as a waiter at a restaurant and we recently got bought out by one of these giant chains. They’re very big on this whole “Australian theme” and already started redecorating and stuff. They were at least nice enough to not fire the staff so we all still have jobs, but they keep saying that we need to get into the company’s mindset. And recently I’ve been noticing I’ve been calling my friends “mate” and my voice keeps cracking. Everyone else seems to be fine with it but I don’t like it ‘ere.

You're actually a waiter trained in top gastronomy. You don't know what bothers you more. The quaint and rustic new interior. Or your very casual dress code. You're no longer allowed to come freshly shaved. And your shirts must have at least the top two buttons undone. And the sleeves must be rolled up at least to the elbows. It looks really ridiculous with your thin arms. Anyway, you need the job. So put on a good face. And greet your next guests.

"Welcome ta the grill downundah. I'm christian 'n i'm yah waider fawr tonight. Can i get ya somethin' ta drink already?" You almost have to bite your tongue. Did you really just say that? Your guests look at each other and start to laugh. "Wonderful, so authentic!" says the woman to her companion.

The evening is hell. At the beginning, you try to speak sensibly. But especially with your colleagues, you speak in a language that sounds more like a dock worker than a waiter. In fact, the tips that evening are not bad at all. And the crocodile fillet served after work is actually quite tasty.

The next morning you have the breakfast shift. Getting up early has never been a problem for you. You do a few push-ups to get your circulation going, spread two slices of bread with Vegemite, drink your filter coffee, get on your bike and set off. You like the morning shift. The air is fresh. And you like setting up the tables on the terrace. At least it's physical work for once. Not that the 20,000 steps you take a day aren't strenuous enough. But carrying the tables also exercises your upper body. And as long as the store is still closed, you can do it bare-chested. You love making your pecs dance. And you like the smell of fresh male sweat. And most of your customers love that too.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look a bit like one of the Hemsworth brothers?" the hot guest flirts with you. He looks like a model himself. You smile your $5,000 smile and say "Hey, I'm Liam's hotder cousin, ya bastahrd! Too right, mate." He smiles back at you and asks what you're doing after work today.

You love this damn job here. Working in this restaurant won't make you homesick for Sidney. Just real honest Australian mates working here. You go through the fire together. No matter how awful your guests can be, you're always in a good mood. Because you know that at the end of a hard day's work, there's at least one good shag in the staff toilet.

And if things go really well, you and your mates play a bit of football in the park afterwards. None of that sissy American stuff. Australian football. Sport for real men. The kind that only exists down under.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for rearranging my brother’s groceries?

I (22M) am a senior in college, and my brother (18M) is a freshman at the same college. I’ll call my brother “Drew.” We’re living together in an apartment close to campus.

Drew and I have never been super close, since we don’t have a lot of interests in common, but we got along pretty well until now. Our parents thought him moving in with me would help him get settled, and I agreed. However, it seems that while Drew has been enjoying his newfound independence from our parents, he’s forgotten that he’s still sharing a living space.

I’ve been living away from my parents for the past two years now, and when I did live with them my room was down the hall from Drew’s so I didn’t hear him much unless our doors were both open. However, at our apartment we share a wall that’s way too thin, so I can hear him talking on the phone. He’s always been into gaming which I never had a problem with, but nearly every night he’s up till 2 or 3am chatting with his online friends. I think it’s great that he has these people, but I have morning classes and need to go to bed by midnight. Drew’s classes don’t start until the afternoon.

Before anyone says to just communicate, I have. I told him that the sound is bothering me and asked if he can try to keep it down after midnight. He kind of brushed me off and quieted down for a few nights, then went right back to normal. I asked my parents to talk to him but they said that this is up to us to figure out. I’ve tried earplugs, white noise, etc and none of it has helped. After our second chat didn’t go anywhere, I decided I would have to do something else.

My first thought was to eat breakfast loudly, but Drew is a very heavy sleeper so this had no impact. I thought about unplugging the router when I go to bed, but figured he would just turn it right back on again. Finally, I came to a solution.

For many years, Drew has always had the same breakfast of eggs and toast. He always eats his eggs in a very specific order from the carton. I decided that for every night he keeps me up late, I will start rearranging his eggs in the carton. The first day I did this he didn’t notice, since he was already running late for class. The next day, however, he texted me very angrily. I told him that until he stopped keeping me up late, I’m going to keep moving his eggs. I kept this up for a week before he started hiding his eggs further into the fridge.

At this point, I decided to escalate a little. Along with moving the eggs around, I started swapping the positions of his bottles and cans one at a time. Still no progress, and the tension in our place was getting more and more intense every day. I even started rearranging the slices of his bread when finally he blew up on me. He told me that having to hunt down his groceries in the fridge every day was making him extremely stressed and interfering with his classes. I replied that not being able to sleep was stressing me out as well. He told me that since a lot of his friends are in other time zones, super late at night is the only time the can talk. At that point I had to go to work and I got a text later from our mom asking me to please try to be more understanding. I don’t feel like I’m an asshole since I already tried to communicate clearly, but what do you guys think?

TL;DR Brother keeping me up past my bedtime, tried to talk to him normally, he didn't listen, so I'm rearranging his groceries as revenge

What are these acronyms?